Buffumville Lake

Buffum_01A friend who lives in Charlton told me about a hiking trail that loops around Buffumville Lake, so this afternoon, I headed to this nearby recreation area to get some exercise.  It’s not too far from my house: take 49 South to 20 East to 31 South and follow the signs.  It cost me a dollar to park in the lot for the day.

The US Army Corps of Engineers maintains the property:  basically, because they built it.  In the olden days, the Corps never met a river it didn’t want to build a dam on; here’s what they say about Buffumville (note the “flood control” justification):

[The] Dam is located 1.3 miles above the point where the Little River flows into the French River. Completed at a cost of $3 million, the dam is part of a system of six flood control projects designed and built by the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers in the Thames River Basin.

The Lake itself is man-made and at 200 acres, has a peak storage capacity of 5.2 billion gallons. The Park covers almost 500 acres and now includes a beach with an enclosed swimming area, picnic tables and grills, a volleyball court, and a horseshoe pit. Hunting, fishing, and boating are all permitted. I guess they figured, Hey, there’s all this water behind the dam now — what else can we do with it? Sorry to be such a cynic, but to many environmentalists, the Army Corps of Engineers is Public Enemy Number One.

But I digress. I came for the hiking: the seven-mile Lake Shore Trail begins at the beach and loops all the way around the Lake.  At my walking pace of about three miles an hour, I knew I wouldn’t be able to hike the entire trail today. So I walked counterclockwise around half the lake, clambered up to the road which cuts through the middle of it, and was back at my car an hour and some minutes later.

I did stop and take some photos along the way.  Here are two thumbnails of a tiny snake (the same individual), which I can’t identify, and one of a dragonfly, possibly a Ruby Meadowhawk (Sympetrum rubicundulum) .
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The trail is well-marked with blue blazes, and wooden bridges have been built where small streams flow into the lake; the left thumbnail depicts one example. A tree has fallen across the trail in the center thumbnail; judging by the numerous tiny shelf fungi, it may have been there for a while. The right thumbnail is my best shot of the Lake, looking as serene and as blue as the summer sky.
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Though many families were enjoying the Park this afternoon, during the entire time I spent on the trail, I saw not a single other soul.

Clara Barton Birthplace Museum

CB_01I’ve had some luck with historical homes recently, so this afternoon I decided to visit another one in a nearby town: the Clara Barton Birthplace Museum in North Oxford.  Clara Barton, as we all know, was a local gal who became a nationally recognized heroine, the “Angel of the Battlefield” during the Civil War and then the founder of the American Red Cross.

I started out in the late afternoon of this hot summer day, taking 49 South to 20 East, and then 12 South for a few miles to Clara Barton Road on the right.  As I was the only visitor at the time I arrived, the docent provided me with a personalized tour of the house.  She was very knowledgeable and enthusiastic, and there’s some cool stuff in the house, so I had a great time hearing about all that this remarkable person had accomplished in her relatively long life.

Clara Barton was born on Christmas Day in 1821, in one of the bedrooms in this house, and died on April 12, 1912, in Glen Echo, Maryland.  The family was prosperous and well-respected; Clara was particularly close to her father and also maintained warm relationships with her siblings throughout her life.  When she was 16, she began teaching in a one-room schoolhouse in North Oxford; she excelled at teaching and eventually, after more than a dozen years in the profession,  founded her own school in New Jersey.  When a man was hired to be the school’s principal, she resigned, and soon after began working in the Patent Office in Washington, DC.  Hostilities between North and South had commenced by then, and when wounded Union soldiers began arriving at the building where she worked, Clara realized that she could do something to help them.  Throughout the war, she both nursed wounded soldiers and also helped organize the collection and distribution of food, medicine, clothing, and other supplies.  After the war, in 1865, President Lincoln asked her to co-ordinate the search for soldiers listed as missing, a task which included verifying the names of men who died in Andersonville.  In 1868, Clara was diagnosed as suffering from exhaustion and was sent to Europe to recuperate.  There, she met the founder of the International Red Cross and was inspired to start an American chapter upon her return to the United States.  She served as president of the American Red Cross from 1881 to 1904.  Her home in Glen Echo, the first headquarters of the ARC, is now preserved as the Clara Barton National Historic Site.  Many of her papers, including letters and diaries, are housed in the Library of Congress and can even be read online.

Interestingly, the museum I visited is administered by the Barton Center for Diabetes Education, non-profit 501(c)(3) organization governed by a volunteer Board of Trustees; its mission is “to improve the lives of children with insulin-dependent diabetes through education, recreation, and support programs which inspire and empower.”  According to the website,

In 1921, on the 100th anniversary of the birth of Clara Barton, humanitarian and founder of the American Red Cross, the Women’s National Missionary Association of the Universalist Church purchased the home in North Oxford, Massachusetts, in which Clara Barton was born. The property included a farmhouse, a barn, and 96 acres of land. The home was restored as a museum and in 1925 a “fresh air” camp for inner-city youths was opened. This humanitarian endeavor was designed to honor Clara Barton, herself a Universalist.

As it turned out, the docent on duty this afternoon was a “Clarkie,” meaning a graduate of Clark University, where I worked through most of the 1990s, so after the tour, we chatted amiably about this and that, and I didn’t leave the property until almost 5 pm.  Here are some photos of the house, from the street in front and then the entrance at the rear:
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