Site 5: Simon Silk Mill – Log Report 1

Posted on September 15, 2015 by Alexa Gatti

By Alexa Gatti and Nicole Maksymiw

Today, we explored the Simon Silk Mill site from multiple perspectives. We began in the parking lot at the end of the Karl Stirner Arts Trail and found a run-down pathway leading toward the creek. We sat on an exposed bed of rocks deposited on the edge of the creek. It was clear that this area is submerged in water at times of greater water flow. We wondered how flooding issues may have impacted the location and the mill. Did the force of water cause operational hazards or contribute to the eventual closing of the mill? The rocks around us were damp, so it seems that the force and amount of water in the creek varies regularly and affects the rocks and other features of this area. The rocks in this area were smooth and rounded, mostly of a larger size. This part of the creek was well shaded during the mid-afternoon. The creek appears quite clear and shallow, since the sun shines through the water to the pebbly bottom. Moving at a steady pace, the water movement around the shallow rocks creates many riffles in the creek. The sounds of this area are a mixture of water rushing past these riffles and traffic rushing past in the road.

Simon Silk Mill

Our vantage point as we journaled

To our left was a bridge that connected the arts trail side of the road to the silk mill side. Behind us, there was a built stone wall along the arts trail. The brick silk mill was across from us. The windows closed with green-painted wood, looking as if it were still in fairly good condition. on the left side of the mill’s face there is a path of plants sprawling upwards. We wondered how this area may be impacted by invasive species. To the right, the mill looked more decrepit. The glass of the windows were shattered. One large smoke stack stood at the right-hand side of the building. What was emitted from this stack? Water vapor or pollutants? This made us wonder what processes and resources are required to produce silk. Is water a major component of production and, if so, how was the creek impacted by this? We imagined workers coming out to the creek for lunch and commuting to the mill. Who were the workers and what were conditions like in the mill? A little ways down the creek we saw a mysterious structure protruding from the stone wall. We contemplated whether we’d be able to wade to that spot, but opted to hold off. (Nicole was wearing a dress and Alexa had Spanish class in an hour.) We did approach the mysterious contraption from above before returning to the car. We must investigate what it could be but it seems that it would have connected to the mill. Large rusted cables were strung from a thick metal beam. Attached to the cables was a long rusted metal pillar lying horizontally in the water. What purpose did this feature serve? We have not yet investigated the history of the mill so we are eager to piece together a clearer picture of the past.

The Mysterious Contraption

Reflection of the Bridge

After wandering in this spot down by the creek, we decided to explore the surrounding area more. We found a “Catch and Release Area” across the road, so there must be a fair amount of recreational fishing just up the creek. A sign on the side of the old silk mill recognized it as Silk: A Creative Community. Silk is an initiative “dedicated to the development and advancement of the creative and cultural industries.” There is also evidence of ongoing construction within the mill. This is a project we will explore further in research.

While walking alongside the mill, we noticed a contrast in design and building materials between the creek side and the far side of the building. The creek side has newer brick patterns, a modern concrete frame of the windows, smoother window boards, and a newer chimney than the circular metal ones on the other section of the building. We look forward to exploring the timeline of development in this location.

Project Research Log Report 1: Erik, Tessa, Bethany

Posted on September 15, 2015 by Bethany Rack

1. Confluence– Ice cutting operation, log drives on Delaware, Getter’s Island

The Confluence is a hidden gem of Easton’s edge. Where the Bushkill meets the Delaware, there is piece of crumbling infrastructure that now acts as a partial dam. To the south, there is a homeless person’s paradise. It is complete with a practice target, a rope swing and a fire pit. The home is made up of blue construction tarps along with fallen trees that offers a great deal of protection from the elements. The ground is rocky until it meets the water edge. The water is calm off the Bushkill tributary; it appears to be no deeper than a foot.

Getter’s Island is in the middle of the Delaware River. It would be impossible for us to get there without swimming across. The island shores are rocky, and it is covered in various varieties of trees and shrubs. We see no wildlife, but you can hear the birds in the trees.

As we walk North towards 611, the cars pass us, speeding to their destination. The riverside of the highway is covered in litter. We pass another homeless person’s campground, carful not to disturb them. We come to the end of Getter’s Island, the entire landmass can be no more than half a mile long and 200 feet across at its widest point.

Observing Getter’s Island would have been much different if we were able to physically get on the Island and experience it. We would have been able to be up close to the nature, but instead we observe from a distance.

Erik Better, Tessa Broholm, Bethany Rack

Crowfoot, Crowfoot Why the Tears?

Posted on September 15, 2015 by Maggie Noonan

When we watched the short litter-prevention ad of the “Crying Indian” I was promptly reminded of an exhibition I once visited that centered on the indigenous people of Canada. Amidst traditional clothing, hunting tools, building tools, and other artifacts and pieces of information, there was a small screening room that featured the short film/long music video I am posting here. It’s dense and historic in content but I have watched and listened to it so many times I’ve lost count. It speaks to the strengths and sorrows of the native people of the North American continent who have historically recognized and respected the natural world far more than their immigrant, namely colonial (and us as descendants) counterparts.

It is a moving piece if you devote the time to it, featuring pleas to remember the importance of the drive to save the buffalo and stand their ground, and lamenting of the loss of life at the hands of those who didn’t care enough to preserve it. I think it would be cheap to offer too much of my own interpretation without opening it first to anyone who wishes to form one of their own, but I find it an important and memorable piece of Native art and music.

Down by the River

Posted on September 15, 2015 by Maggie Noonan

There’s a TED talk I once listened to that featured Mark Ronson and a few other collaborative artists on the nature and importance of collaboration, as well as the apparent human instinct to collaborate. One of things I always remember when I am quick to question a remix or a re-imagining of something that I already love is something that Mark Ronson said which was that we are drawn to insert ourselves into that which we love. When we began briefly to talk about songs about rivers, other than The River (which is my favorite in the Boss’ grand repertoire) I thought immediately of Down By The River by the king of angry environmental folk rock himself- Neil Young.

Though I actually knew of the Dave Matthews & Tim Reynolds version before I knew the original, I have always connected with the instrumentals in the song in a way that I identify with the rush of a dammed or rocky river. The way it’s fluid but also jolting is especially evident whilst kayaking, particularly in the rippling rapid-like patches we traversed. I don’t know, I guess either version is just a treat to listen to so I thought I would leave them here for anyone who hasn’t had the pleasure of hearing them previously.

Neil Young:

Dave:

Another one – this is an outrage

Posted on September 15, 2015 by brandesd

On the wall in front of the library yesterday afternoon:

Dying hummingbird in front of Skillman

Notice the broken wing feathers and foot. Sorry if this turns your stomach, but imagine what its like to be him

Two rather different river songs (classics)

Posted on September 15, 2015 by brandesd

Here’s one that celebrates “Manifest Destiny” and the harnessing of the Columbia River (Woody Guthrie, 1941):

And another one, 30 years later, that mourns the loss of the Green River (KY) to the Peabody Coal Co (John Prine, 1971)

River Twins

Posted on September 15, 2015 by Shawn Hogan

I first heard this song at a music festival in Prague where Ibeyi (“twins” in the West African language, Yoruba) performed. I was immediately enchanted by the simple beauty of this song and the warmth of the flowing harmonies. Upon more listenings of this song, I began to induce meaning from the lyrics and instrumentals, alike. After our kayaking trip and river readings, I began to find even more meaning in these lyrics. For reference, here are the lyrics:

Come to you river
I will come to your river
I will come to you river
Come to you river
(Wash my soul)
I will come to your river
(Wash my soul)
I will come to your river
(Wash my soul again)
Carry away my dead leaves
Let me baptize my soul with the help of your waters
Sink my pains and complains
Let the river take them, river drown them
My ego and my blame
Let me baptize my soul with the help of your waters
Those old means, so ashamed
Let the river take them, river drown them
[Yoruban Outro]:
Wemile Oshun
Oshun dede
Alawede Wemile Oshun
Moolowo beleru yalode moyewede

Unfortunately, I cannot find the Yoruba translation for the last verse, so I’ll just focus on the english parts. The song talks about cleansing, “baptizing,” and asking the river to wash away negativity such as “pains and complains.” There is definitely something pure about rivers, regardless of their actual chemical purity. The phrase “baptize my soul” makes me think about Abbey’s “Down the River” because he seems to experience a sort of spiritual awakening and soul cleansing during his journey down the Colorado River where time becomes irrelevant, and civilization just a dream. Both the song and “Down the River” invoke the feeling that experiencing rivers is necessary for human cleansing and peace. The river can “carry away my dead leaves” in a literal sense if leaves are falling from trees and in a metaphorical sense if the leaves are the stagnant remnants of society hanging from the limbs of one’s soul.

The music itself, without the words, also describes the personality of rivers. The pounding drum beats are the rocks which shape the river flow of the river as the drum beats shape the song. The consistent harmonies in the background are the constant flow and dynamism of the river. The vocals on top of the simple backbeat is the variation in bird sounds, insect sounds, waterfalls, etc. which one also encounters while on the river. Notice the vocal melody is dynamic, but does repeat throughout the song. Each bird voice is unique, yet aligns with the other bird voices around it, creating a repetitive tune. The outro is completely different than the song before it, symbolizing that a river can change pace and personality changing from completely calm to rocky rapids.

House Hunters: Delaware River Edition

Posted on September 15, 2015 by Bethany Rack

My mom is an avid watcher of House Hunters and our TV at home rarely strays from Home and Garden TV Station (HGTV). She forwards me emails weekly of houses around our area in New Jersey because “it never hurts to look.” She has a platinum card to Pier One Imports and a box of decorations for every season change and holiday that she adorns throughout our home.

Needless to say, wherever I go, I look at houses. This includes going down the Delaware River. The majority of the homes here are on stilts, built up to protect them from flooding when the river rises. After Sandy, a large portion of the houses along the Delaware were swept away, but a lot of people chose to rebuild despite the risks.

A lot of things draw people towards the river. It’s peaceful, it’s nature, and it’s a chance to get away from society. When you live on the river, all your problems seem to flow away. None of the homes along the Delaware were mansions lined with white picket fences and flowery beds, but there is a certain thing that draws people to the water. Be it the beach, lakes, streams or rivers, the allure and magic of water appeals to people.

River Songs

Posted on September 15, 2015 by Teresita Galarce Crain

Music is something I find very important and am rarely not listening to something. There are many songs about water and rivers, and I realized that some of my favorite songs fall into this category. I want to show two songs to you all that are very different stylistically but have a very similar message.

“Like a River” by My Morning Jacket This is my favorite song and is part of their newest album The Waterfall, which I recommend listening all the way through.

http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/mymorningjacket/likeariver.html
This song describes a love for the river and the joy of flowing with the river.

Similarly the collaboration between two excellent singers: Johnny Flynn and Laura Marling named “The Water” describes the importance of water. Not only does water sustaining physically with life and growth, the water sustains the soul of a person.

http://songmeanings.com/songs/view/3530822107858798941/

DelaWHERE? – Rivers & My Sense of Place

Posted on September 14, 2015 by Alexa Gatti

Andy held A Sand County Almanac to read a passage from “Flambeau.” He read as his kayak continued to drift downstream. In that moment, I realized how unique this experience was. At the same time, I realized our insignificance in comparison to the water that flowed beneath us. The river continued on, despite our conversations, while we sit in class at Lafayette and even as we sit right on its surface. The river has been flowing and will continue flowing.

The Delaware is the longest free-flowing river along the east coast of the United States. I am amazed by this fact. Our professors joked, “Let’s go to Cape May!” We could row to Cape May? This is a place where I spent so many summers as a child (Book your Lobster House reservation now!). I think of the 3-plus hour drive it takes to get to this shore point from my home in Whippany, NJ. I am amazed by the vastness of rivers and all to which water connects us. Prior to this trip, I thought nothing of the Delaware River and the significance of time, space, and culture that courses through its water. I felt this connection – the “magic” – that Eiseley so powerfully describes. And what of the other rivers that I have yet to explore? I have rafted along the Colorado River, I was amazed by the canyons that surrounded me and somehow I felt the Delaware was less significant. While driving through Utah, along the Colorado River, this is the song that we played:

I thought of the great expanse of our country – the rivers and roads that seem to create a great distance. Our trip in the Delaware put rivers into perspective as a connecting force across time and space. Rivers are a way of bringing people, goods, and cultures together. This is a sentiment that has been lost with the ubiquity of railways and roads.

Our kayaking experience was enlightening. I now think of each stone that was deposited on the riverbank, shaped and eroded throughout its journey. I think of the monstrous rocks jutting from below the surface – Dave’s words: “BILLIONS of years!” echo in my mind. James Hutton’s discovery of Deep Time is tangible here. I think of the deer carcass that had deposited in the shallow waters along the river’s edge. I am humbled by the time that has past to bring the river to this point – all of the systems, lifecycles, evolution, erosion, deposition, journeys that have been a part of this river’s history. I am humbled by the fact that I can experience a brief glint of that mighty river’s story. I am just floating along the surface, being carried as the river pleases. I am a visitor here – one apparition along the river’s path. Will it remember me? What significance can I pose when confronted by such a perpetual force? For now, I will float on.