Beneath roiling clouds, we continued our early-Spring exploration of Vermont.
Occasionally rain spattered the windshield, but only momentarily.
The land has recovered its verdure.
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Final naked appearance of the trees.
Soon this path will seem to disappear into the woods.
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Isn’t it said that appearances are everything?
But appearances can be so deceiving.
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At the dawn of time, when I was a new airline employee we had flights from New York to the West Indies.
One afternoon, a passenger who was checking in looked around in agitation at the queue forming behind her. Was she going to be sitting with black people?
She seemed displeased with our response and asked for the supervisor whose name was Swedish. We smirked: “No problem!”
Our supervisor was from Haiti. And black.
He gave one of his most charming smiles:
“How may I help you Madam?”
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It was always shocking to me how freely people expressed their prejudices.
One of our London flights continued to Tel Aviv and not infrequently carried numerous members of the Hasidim.
At the boarding gate one night, we were approached by a passenger who wanted to know:
“The dudes with the hats! Where are they going?”
He may actually have been nervous because it was the age of hijackings.
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It’s hard to believe now, but when I first worked at JFK there were no security checks. If a passenger no-showed at the gate, the flight left without them. Life was so simple.
There were so many hijackings, I don’t know that any one in particular resulted in the first security checks which involved the searching of all hand baggage.
In the beginning, this delightful task fell to the customer services staff and suddenly we had a function even less popular than baggage check!
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You never knew what you might find.
One of our agents found a box in a young boy’s bag and as she opened it, he piped up: “That’s my snake!” Dear little lad. I don’t know what became of the snake.
It was astonishing what people sometimes travelled with then. We handled Air Portugal and one night there was an appeal for cleaners to go to the gate:
Asking the nature of the mess, the cleaners were told:
“Pheasant shit!” One of the birds had attempted to flee.
Poor thing.
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On one occasion a passenger was found to have a gun in his carry-on baggage. Fortunately it did not turn into an incident as it easily could have. We were not trained for security procedures of that sort.
Not very long after an agency was contracted to take over the function which was a very great relief.
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How did I get here?
Oh yes, it was the word appearance.
Brain has a habit of picking things up and running with them, or rather compelling my fingers to run, so to speak.
Brain tries to freak me out sometimes.
Like this morning…
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We drag after breakfast, I with my iPad and Grant checking his messages. This morning he wanted to show me one.
He brought it up but stopped it from playing.
Looking up from my iPad, a tune arrived in my head.
Grant started the message which was accompanied by the exact tune I had just been hearing in my head.
At first I was a little stunned. I checked in with Brain:
“Heard it before, didn’t you? That split second when the message started to play, before Grant stopped it.”
“Hear what? I didn’t hear anything.”
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Amazing, isn’t it how the smallest hint of a familiar tune will fetch it up for you. Because I’m sure that must be it.
Otherwise it would be too weird.
….
We stopped to take another brief walk.
Brief is the only kind I can do, especially if I don’t get my footwear sorted out. Yesterday I was wearing the too big kind which is not recommended for walking on uncertain terrain.
I kept to the path.
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A little bird sang such a pretty tune for me.
But did not introduce itself.
Trying to zero in as well as focus failed. Never mind.
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Only because we had stopped, we realised this was a little marsh.
Something I had never seen growing before!
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Truth is, I never knew much about Pussy-willow.
I seem to recall seeing it in flower shops when I was a kid.
And that it turns yellow.
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Now that we had noticed it,
…we saw that it was all around us.
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Masses of it!
A return visit will be required.
Apparently it comes in other colours.
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Happy with our excursion we started for home.
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As we set off, we noticed three geese overhead
We caught up with them, headed the same way.
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We offered a lift, but they politely declined.
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Thank you, Carolyn, for a delightful tonight’s musing. I love the pictures of the roads that seemingly lead to the edge of the world, and the catkins!
Joanna
This time of year I love Pussy Willow, Catkins, and Weeping Willow, but the emerging buds of Chestnut trees are my favourite!
There is a song that includes them…it’s been a long time, I’ll have to think about it, it refers to the flowers as candles….???
Yes, they do look like candles!
It’s bothering me that I can’t remember the song. It was one they made us sing in boarding school. I don’t think it was religious though.
It will come to you in the wee small hours!
I’ve never heard of Pussy Willow! You would love the cherry blossoms in Japan – spectacular.
Wow, no passenger checks – how novel.
It always amuses me what people try to sneak into Australia. Typically, I see as I’m in the customs queue, sometimes for a long time, especially if the flight hails from Aisa. Most people know that Australia is one of the strictest countries for bringing in stuff and you still complete a declaration card on the flight before landing, and yet, still they try!
Yes, I remember that the Aussie customs blokes were very serious! I found most such officials were humourless. Understandable why they could not be friendly but most of them are jumped up little creeps who like dominating people. Maybe things have changed, but I doubt it!
I can’t think there was a time when there weren’t security checks before you got on a plane! How the times have changed! As for the Pussy Willow … I don’t think I’ve ever seen it before (yet it looks familiar – like I saw it between arrangements in a flower shop). Lovely drive!
At one time, I took many flights on Aeroflot. The Embassy in London used to check our passports for Israeli stamps, and refuse a visa if you had one. (I didn’t as I have never wanted to go to Israel) On internal flights in the Soviet Union there were no restrictions on cabin baggage. I once sat next to a woman who had ten boxes of oranges stacked on the floor across the three seats. We all had to sit with our feet on them for a long flight. They also made no announcements in English on internal flights, so when we were involved in a runway crash landing in Central Asia, (wheels would not lower) the first we knew about it was when the other passengers assumed the crash position and started groaning!
Best wishes, Pete.
Oh my! Maybe not knowing about the crash landing was a good thing. At least it reduced your worry time! My friend Tim flew on an internal flight in India where someone had a tank of exotic fish. There are a lot of stories about aviation that make one shudder!
Wonderful photos. We have so many geese flying over us at present. They are doing the annual relocation.