Category: Camping

Off Season Adventures

Published on by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

Rocky-Mountain-National-Park-16-HD-Image.jpgMost of my life has been directed by the school year calendar. Whether as a student, a parent or an educator I measured my days in six or nine week cycles filled with reading, study and compositions. It was only in the warm months of June, July and August that I had enough free time to experience the wonders of nature beyond the confines of places near my home. I saw the world from the perspective of only a quarter slice of time. I had little idea that so much was happening in the places that I so loved while I was ensconced in classrooms and libraries. Because I did not have the benefit of taking a vacation at a time of my own choosing I never truly experienced the changing of the seasons or the differences in color and light from one month to the next. Mine was always a holiday shared with vast crowds. It was not until I finally retired from my labors that I began to see the world around me in new and quite enchanting ways.

Travel is quieter and less hectic when schools are in session. Campgrounds and hotels generally have many vacancies from which to choose. The roads are less congested and the drives are leisurely. There is no ticking clock announcing a need to hurry. There is a glorious feeling of aimlessness that allows for random explorations that lead to exciting discoveries. For the first time in my life I am at liberty to take advantage of my freedom from an academic calendar and head in any direction that I choose on any day that I wish. I experience an exhilarating freedom every time that my husband and I hitch up our trailer and head onto the open road.

I have seen the rich hues of red, orange, yellow and gold that paint the fall landscape. I have felt the crackling of the fallen leaves beneath my feet and the sting of a cool afternoon on my nose. I have stood all alone in a forest while the wind blew across my cheeks and tousled my hair. I have listened to the silence all around me. I have enjoyed a steaming hot bowl of chili at the top of a mountain in a restaurant preparing to close for the coming winter. I’ve stopped at a Buccee’s when I was able to park right in front of the door and walk straight through without bumping into hordes of people. These were wondrous moments for me because heretofore I had never been able to enjoy such experiences. I would have been busy imparting the knowledge and skills of mathematics to the latest members of my class.

I have learned that the ocean is perhaps at its loveliest in the winter. Its aspect changes from hour to hour. It may be draped in early morning fog and then glistening in afternoon sunshine. The beaches are pristinely empty and it takes little imagination to feel the sense of wonder that may have been the reaction of the first explorers who landed in such glorious places. There is a majesty in hearing only the sound of the waves and the flapping of the wings of the birds who have reclaimed the area for the season. I so love staring into the horizon and feeling as though I am looking into forever. I think of all of the people who have stood in the same spot from which I am viewing the splendor of the sea and wonder what dreams and stories unfolded from my vantage point. I find buried treasure in the form of sand dollars and shells of many shapes and colors. I eat the lunch that I have brought in silence, starring out as far as my eye can see and feeling that surely I have found a tiny slice of heaven.

I have passes to the Texas state parks and all of the national parks as well. I love to explore the trails and pathways that invariably lead to the most delightful destinations. I feel my energy and health improving with each step. It is a glorious way to exercise. I have no need of machines when the great outdoors is beckoning me. Everything that I need to shed anxieties and pounds is right in front of me. I forget about the stresses and concerns that so often plague me when I am communing with the forests and the creatures that skitter around me. I feel at home enjoying the bounty that no man is capable of reproducing. For all of our genius we cannot build a mountain or an ocean but we can enjoy and honor the wondrous bounty that nature still provides us and there is no better time than when our footprints do not have to compete with big crowds.

I never sleep as well as when my trailer is parked in a secluded area surrounded by trees or the vistas of a lake. I am caressed by the quiet and warmed by the heavy blanket that I always carry for cold nights. A simple cup of tea tastes like the nectar of the gods on such nights. The starry sky puts my own place in the universe into perspective. I understand that I am but a tiny speck in the grand scheme of things and yet I am unique and important. I feel content as I become a shadow in a darkness that is not possible in the lights of the city. I feel relaxed and I find the comfort of slumber so easily.

The food that I eat on such journeys always seems to be so good. A bite of baked chicken or a crisp apple lingers on the tastebuds of my tongue. I have no need to hurry my dining. I sit at the table and slowly partake of my simple feast while enjoying the antics of a rabbit or laughing at the cardinals that zip past my window. Sometimes a family of deer strut through my campsites and on occasion I see something truly exotic like a moose or a turkey or a roadrunner. It is like having dinner and a movie, more special than the most expensive night out and often I am among an elite group lucky enough to be present when few others are there.

I feel blessed to be able to enjoy my little adventures and to discover the world as it is during the school year. It is truly grand to visit places in the off season when the tourists are mostly gone. Sometimes my husband and I may be the only people in sight. In those moments I feel as though I am royalty enjoying a private beach or a castle in a forest of my own. Who knew how many simple pleasures were just waiting for me to find them? Traveling at odd times of the year is truly one of those little known secrets. It is the best.

Nature Unplugged

Published on by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

21nov2011_1__dsc7226My husband and I went camping last weekend when the temperatures were in the freezing range. Our neighbors wondered out loud if we had perhaps neglected to note the arrival of colder than normal weather, especially when they heard that we were going to Galveston Island State Park. Somehow in their minds it seemed rather strange to head to the beach in low thirty degree conditions. I suppose that most people would agree but that’s because they haven’t tried it.

We covered out plants before leaving and took the more delicate potted ones inside. We kept our smart phones tuned to the Weather Channel and equipped the trailer with our warmest blankets, lots of hot chocolate, coffee and tea. We made sure that we had coats, gloves and hats and that the propane that runs our heater was in full supply. Mike even had foam insulation to put around the hoses that provide water for our convenience. We were as well prepared as a bevy of Boy Scouts.

It was grey and rainy when we arrived at our campsite. We had a grand view of Galveston Bay which was anything but tranquil. The thirty mile per hour winds created enormous white caps on the waves that churned the water. It was a glorious site that we enjoyed from inside the cozy comfort of our trailer whose walls were buffeted by the storm. We listened to music and had the rare privilege of simply enjoying the scene around us without interruptions from phones or unexpected solicitors at our door. We felt as though we were in a warm cocoon hibernating from stress and it was wonderful. We had neither the need nor the desire to venture outside because we were surrounded by the serenity and bounty of nature.

The marshlands between us and the bay were teeming with exotic birds doing their best  to hunker down until the environment became less hostile. They were magnificent and I felt as though I was being given a rare treat because I doubt that they would have been so bold if the other humans that were in the park with us were walking about. Since all of us stayed indoors we had a rare peak at what goes on inside such an ecosystem. I most enjoyed the pelicans who somehow appear graceful in flight despite their bulkiness in physique. There were cranes and seagulls and grumpy blackbirds that attempted to take control of the area but were generally ignored.

After dark we watched a movie while wrapped tightly in our blanket with the heater warming all of the corners of our tiny home away from home. We sipped on chai tea and hot chocolate and munched on bowls of popcorn. I couldn’t imagine a more perfect evening.

The sun eventually came out and we ventured over to the Galveston Seawall where the water was crystal clear and shining like brilliant jewels. Nobody was swimming but many sauntered along in their heavy winter gear just enjoying the sound of the waves and the lack of big crowds that usually cram the beach. It was actually far more beautiful that it is in the heat of summer and I began to think of all of the secrets of the sea and wonder what the waters had witnessed during the course of history.

We followed Seawall Boulevard all the way down to the end of the island where huge ships were entering the bay. I wanted to know from whence they had come and where they were going. There was a virtual traffic jam of tankers, barges and tug boats. Along the shore fishermen quietly cast their lines in hopes of landing dinner for the evening. It was isolated and felt like a private  tour of places on the island that I had not before seen.

We drove to the historic Stand and braved the cold to walk among the shops and browse the wares. The clerks were happy to have customers and the time to tarry in conversation. I learned that many people come from other parts of the country just to live in Galveston during the winter season. Most of them had neglected to bring their cold weather clothing and so they had to make do with layering on that very cold day.

It was Galveston Restaurant Week and so we stopped at one of our favorite haunts, the Gumbo Bar. It was good to find some warmth and a special menu in honor of the festivities. We enjoyed oyster po’ boys and bread pudding and then drove to the ferry that goes across the bay to the Bolivar Peninsula. There were more ships and hundreds of birds as well as offshore oil rigs to keep our attention in the short trip across.

I had not been to that area in a long time. I had heard that there had been grave damage when Hurricane Ike hit several years ago. It seemed to have recovered rather well but as always it is a quieter side of Galveston Bay without nearly as much of the tourist trade. It’s a paradise for fisherman and those who want to catch a few of the blue crabs that inhabit the waters. I noticed a number of RV parks hosting snowbirds from northern states, people who come each year to avoid the snow and months long cold of their homes.

By the last day of our mini-vacation the temperature was hospitable enough for us to take a long stroll along the beach. We bundled up and brought a bag to use in collecting the many shells that had been left behind by the storm. I found some beauties but mostly enjoyed the fact that we were the only people anywhere. I felt a contentment as we walked silently from one end of the beach park to the other with the waves whispering their welcome to us. I didn’t need to enter the water to feel a sense of joy. I only desired to observe all of the wonders of nature that graced us in our solitary little haven.

We reluctantly left for home driving for one last time along the seawall. There were more people braving the cooler temperatures to walk on the wall built by people attempting to tame the wildness of the sea after the ocean swallowed Galveston in a hurricane of 1900. The waves were asserting themselves as if to remind us all that they are ultimately in charge. Their power is breathtaking and my last glance at them left me with a lovely memory whose image I draw upon for comfort and serenity.

Those who believe that there is nothing to do in Galveston on a freezing cold day in January have never been there to see what we did. It was one of the loveliest camping trips that I have ever made. It’s delightful to visit a place without the sometimes intrusive footprint of other people crowding the view. Go there in the winter. Linger in the quiet. Enjoy nature unplugged.     

You Just Might Get What You Need

Published on by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

davis-mountains-night-skyFort Davis, Texas is a tiny town nestled in the shadow of the Guadelupe Mountains in the far western reaches of the state. It is a place with so little human footprint that it is home to the MacDonald Observatory and the annual gathering of the Texas Star Party. Here the stars at night truly are big and bright. Without the lights of more populous areas it is possible to see the nighttime sky the way it was once viewed by our ancestors. It is a place where it becomes easy to sense our place in the universe and in turn to shed the baggage of stressful times. In Fort Davis, particularly when the day is done, the stars, the planets and the creatures of the night remind us that we are part of a vast expanse of history that has come before us and is still yet to happen. It is a humbling and healing experience to be there.

Fort Davis came to be in the middle of the nineteenth century when the California gold rush led to an unprecedented western movement. The journey was long and treacherous, moving through deserts and land belonging to Native Americans who were becoming increasingly more concerned about settlers claiming property as their own. The fort was not just a way station for travelers but also a means of protection for safe passage. It was home to officers and their families as well as the famous Buffalo Soldiers, Black recruits so named by the Comanches who were fascinated by the dark skinned men. It was a rough and tumble society on the outer edges of civilization where everyone had to work together to keep things from falling apart.

The fort and its purpose lasted only a brief time. When the Civil War broke out it was used as a western outpost for the Union Army until the Confederates defeated the troops there and used it for their own purposes. After the war it once again became useful but not for long. It was abandoned late in the nineteenth century and sat that way for decades. Luckily there weren’t many people in that part of the world and so the buildings were never completely destroyed. They simply sat waiting for someone to notice their historical significance and to restore them to their former glory.

Today they are a living record of an era when many citizens of our country were seeking futures for themselves and their children. It takes little imagination to understand the difficulties of their journeys. The post is four hundred miles from San Antonio which now as then was the only major city in any direction. At a rate of five miles per hour, the wagons that carried the families were excruciatingly slow. Travel took more than ten times longer than it does today and that was if all other conditions along the route were perfect. I thought of how long it had taken us to pull our trailer from San Antonio to Los Angeles on our vacation and began to understand the sacrifices that the travelers had to make. I thought of the heat and the uncertainty of the road ahead and marveled that anyone might have felt adventurous or desperate enough to consider such a daunting expedition.

There is a hospital in the fort that holds records from the doctors who worked there. The stories tell of horrors such as the family that lost seven children in two weeks to diphtheria. The primitive nature of the treatments are as frightening as the injuries and diseases that found their way so far from the rest of humanity and yet the daily lives of the people who came here were often as routine as anywhere. They wrote to friends and family back home and celebrated the coming and going of the seasons. They drilled on the parade ground and periodically defended themselves against cattle rustlers and thieves. They watched the comings and goings of the pioneer families and no doubt observed the same stars at night that continue to brighten the skies. When they were gone they seemed to have been forgotten for a time but today thanks to the National Park Service they are remembered by people like me who walk in the shadows of their history with a kind of awe.

Fort Davis is now mostly a destination for tourists and astronomers. Those seeking refuge from the hurly burly of our modern times like to sit on the porches of the inns on the main street of town and listen to the silence. An old time drug store offers a daily menu of breakfast, lunch and dinner along with a soda fountain featuring banana splits and root beer floats. Fort Davis State Park has tent sites and full hookups for campers. The Prude Ranch which hosts the Texas Star Party offers horse back riding and a vicarious ranching experience. The MacDonald Observatory is a scientific wonder that hosts tours and star gazing opportunities for the public even while it studies the heavens and learns more and more about our universe.

There are things to do in and near Fort Davis for those who like to keep busy but it is also the consummate location for simply relaxing. We spent an entire evening just gazing at the stars which were so plentiful that it was breathtaking. Some people actually sleep during the day and stay awake all night long to watch the changing spectacle in the sky as the earth spins on its axis.

Being in Fort Davis is a priceless experience that puts life so clearly into focus. Somehow out where mankind has such a small footprint it is easier to understand that our days and our nights will continue in much the same way that they have for eternity and none of our worries will change that. It reminds us of the beauty of nature and the cosmos and urges us to realize that we owe it to ourselves and to the future to honor the miraculous magic of our world. It tells us to learn from both the courage and mistakes of our past. It challenges us to become protectors of humans and nature lest we lose what is most important.

We know more about how things work than at any other time in history but I suspect that just as our ancestors, we still have much to learn. We need not berate ourselves for the ignorance of those who came before us but instead should celebrate the knowledge that has allowed us to become better. Somehow both our history and our future converge in Fort Davis in a way that makes our path as the human race seem so much clearer. It is difficult to visit this place without changing just a bit. It is both spiritual and scientific, reaching into the head and the heart. You won’t find raucous and artificial excitement here but you just might find what you need.

A Heavenly City

Published on by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

Torrey-Pines-State-Natural-Reserve-California-community-of-La-Jolla-San-Diego-California-1024x682My youngest grandson William sometimes gets lost in the raucous crowd of his fellow grandchildren. There are seven of them in toto, ranging from a second year college student all the way down to a rising fifth grader. They are a good bunch of kids who are all quite polite, bright and hard working. Mike and I decided some years back to give each of them a special vacation with us. Our journeys across America began with a trip to Boston and over time took us to San Francisco, Washington D.C., New York City, Seattle, Canada and a host of national parks, museums and art galleries. At long last it was William’s turn to choose a destination.

After briefly considering a drive along the Atlantic coast or a Florida excursion featuring Miami, he quite surprisingly settled on going to southern California, specifically to San Diego, and he wanted his sister Abby to accompany us. His determination overcame my own misgivings. In all of my years I had never thought of trekking to that city. I’d heard about it from my mom whose descriptions of the place came from a time when our country was embroiled in a world war. I thought of it mainly as a military town that just happens to be on the border of Mexico as well. I found little reason to desire seeing it and my only connection with it was a brief stop over on the tarmac of its airport which allowed me to view the harbor as we landed. I felt that my glimpse of the city was all that I needed and thought no more about this little jewel that is so often forgotten in the shadow of its California siblings like Los Angeles and San Francisco. When William insisted that this was his ultimate destination I concurred but wondered why it had been his choice.

We decided to take our travel trailer on the trip which necessitated a more extended time together than usual. It also allowed us to see the amazing sights along the way to San Diego. We enjoyed so many incredible places and activities as we slowly made our way west that I generally believed that our ultimate goal would be a letdown. I learned soon enough just how wrong I was.

San Diego is a beautiful city with a temperate climate even in the dog days of summer. Almost as soon as we had entered its boundaries we had left behind the soaring heat that had stalked us for days. Instead we were cooled by a constant breeze from the bay. The waters of the Pacific Ocean were an inviting, glimmering blue that shone in the sunlight like a blue topaz. The streets were clean and filled with smiling people who appeared to be participants in a permanent celebration of life. A huge gay pride festival gave way to Comic-Con while we were there. The skies were filled with colorful kites and laughter. The beaches were family friendly with little of the superficial sights of Malibu and enough warmth in the water for a day long love affair with the waves. I felt as though I had found a little paradise.

There are so many things to do in San Diego but William chose the leisurely route. He wanted to tour the U.S.S. Midway and took hours experiencing its many features. Afterwards his only desire was to enjoy a picnic at one of the city’s many parks and to drive along its scenic highways. Along the way we caught a glimpse of the downtown area and smiled at the fans making their way to a Padres game. We cooled our heels in the evening at our campground on Santee Lake, a lovely spot where we felt quite relaxed and happy.

Our premiere enjoyment came from a day at the beach. We had hope to go to La Jolla but our efforts were thwarted by the huge crowds and lack of parking spaces. Instead we discovered Torrey Pines State Park where we rented boogie boards and prepared for the sun with gallons of sunscreen. Mike built an enclosure with a tarp and we spent the rest of that glorious time dancing in the water, walking along the shoreline and watching the birds and the people who had joined us. Somehow our food tasted magically more delicious than usual and our smiles seemed permanently tattooed to our faces. We only grudgingly left when the sun grew dim. We wondered how the hours had ticked by so quickly. We laughed and excitedly talked over one another as we made our way back to our trailer. I knew that the beach had been a hit with William when he struggled to decide whether he had most enjoyed his romp in the ocean or his time in the land of Harry Potter at Universal City.

We decided to forgo a visit to the famous San Diego Zoo when we learned that over a third of the famous landmark is presently under construction and that the entrance fee would be about fifty dollars each. Commentaries from people who had been there warned us that the crowds were brutal and many of the animals spent most of their time sleeping, sometimes in hidden areas. The complaints were so frequent that William declared that he wanted to spend more of his remaining time outside in the invigorating ocean that so inspired and energized us.

We drove to the island of Coronado and explored its beaches and streets filled with quaint homes. We rode a boat into the harbor and marveled at the ships and the San Diego skyline as helicopters and planes flew overhead. We purchased a kite that featured a many colored parrot whose wings flew high above us in the gentle wind. Somehow we all knew that we would always remember that simple moment with the kite soaring aloft under William’s able guidance. Everything around us was perfection. The sky was a brilliant blue devoid of the pollution that had enveloped us in Los Angeles. The air caressed our skin unlike the harsh heat that had seemed to follow us all the way from Texas. The city and the ocean provided a gorgeous backdrop to the fluttering object that seemed as heaven bound as our own spirits. Nothing might have been more perfect and I found myself feeling especially grateful to William for having the foresight to choose San Diego for our once in a lifetime vacation together.

It was with great reluctance that we left San Diego. We all agreed that if we were ever to move to California we would want to live in that wonderful city. All of my preconceived notions about the place were laid to rest. It might possibly be the best of all the wondrous cities in this picturesque state and I plan to return again one day and maybe even bring William with me when I do.

The City of Angels and Demons

Published on by Sharron Burnett1 Comment

Los_Angeles_-_Echangeur_autoroute_110_105I have just completed a five thousand mile road trip with my husband and two of my grandchildren. It was a glorious adventure that will be forever imprinted on my memory. Together we saw and did wondrous things. This morning I am experiencing the letdown that so often comes with a return to normalcy. It has been three weeks since I was last inside the realm of reality. I managed to avoid the depressing news cycles and the speechifying propaganda of the Republican convention. I suspect that my journey would have exceeded perfection if it had been timed to ignore the Democrat convention as well. If there is one thing that I know for certain it is that a single speech does not define a political animal so I really don’t need to watch the cleverly rehearsed commentaries to decide how to vote in November.

When last I submitted a blog I was on my way to Los Angeles. We were driving through the Mojave Desert from Needles, California, a place so hot and devoid of personality that I had to wonder why anyone ever chose to live there. I noted that it was the home of Spike, one of Snoopy’s brothers, and had to chuckle that it must be a dog’s life in that dry and forlorn place.

By the afternoon we had reached our destination in the greater Los Angeles metropolitan area after wandering through a seemingly endless stretch of bone dry land that was nonetheless hauntingly beautiful. Many miles out of the city we caught up with the famous LA traffic that slowed our progress to a disturbing crawl. It felt as though we had somehow found our way into a beehive of uninterrupted activity.

Los Angeles is a behemoth of a city. It stretches in every direction with seven lane highways creating pathways from one part of town to another. Even with such gigantic road systems progress along the roads is slow and deliberate. There is no room for the timid. The landscape is a patchwork of ethnic and economic diversity from the plenty of Wilshire Boulevard to the want of East LA.

We stayed in a campground just past Magic Mountain that harkened to the California of the nineteen fifties. My grandchildren voted it the best of its kind with its two kidney shaped swimming pools and credit card operated laundromat. It lay in the shadow of Santa Clarita where we shopped for provisions and cooled our heels on a Saturday afternoon watching a movie. I remarked at the time that the entire area appeared to be a tender box just waiting for someone to carelessly toss a cigarette or match. I mentally planned an escape route if the place were to suddenly become an inferno. Luckily we did not experience any problems but only one week after our departure an enormous wildfire broke out nearby and it continues to rage to this very day. It seems that my instincts were right on target.

We did the usual touristy things in Los Angeles. We visited Hollywood and even joined a snake-like parade of cars in the drive to see the famous sign that sits on a hill overlooking the city. We saw the Walk of Fame and drove through Beverly Hills. We went to Rodeo Drive and up and down Sunset Boulevard. I suspect that some of the luster chipped away for my grandchildren who found the endless traffic and the multitude of homeless to be quite disturbing.

They were much happier at Universal City where they immersed themselves in the fantasies of moviedom. Under their direction we arose early and arrived at the theme park at 7:30 in the morning. We were able to enjoy the Harry Potter section without crowds and partake of the rides a number of times without much wait. The attraction was indeed as magical as the children had hoped and served to reinstate their interest in this incredible city.

We stayed until the park closed at ten that night. We felt an ecstatic kind of exhaustion that comes after an incomparable day. We had braved roller coaster rides and an hour standing in line to tour the studios. We jumped in fright at a velociraptor and were taken by surprise by a giant Egyptian. We walked through the Walking Dead exhibit with delight and I had to laugh that my grandchildren seemed to be the only youngsters daring enough to do so. All in all the park was well worth the long journey that brought us to this place.

We did not have as much time in Los Angeles as we had hoped. We found that getting from one area to another was far more time consuming than we had imagined it would be. I had hoped to visit the Huntington  Library on our final day but my crew was far too tired to make the trip. Instead we enjoyed the southern California sun at the swimming pool and took in a movie which seemed appropriate given our locale. Our journey to our next destination, San Diego, would take us across the entire north south expanse of the city and with wall to wall traffic that hardly moved we managed to see much more of this famous town.

Los Angeles is definitely a study in contrasts. North Hollywood where I lived for a short time when I was eight appears to have seen better days. Back then it was a middle class enclave with stucco structures much like the one where my family resided. We had a big yard with trees that shaded us from the sun. Our living room boasted a fireplace which was quite exotic to me. I recall riding a bus to school through hilly streets that held lovely structures that appeared to be the domains of the wealthy. Sixty years later the area has lost the luster that I remember from my childhood. It has a run down appearance as though it has been abandoned for greener pastures.

The LA freeways are in constant motion even at midnight. It seems as though the city never sleeps. In the more wealthy areas the streets are manicured and clean. In those where the economically disadvantaged reside there are mountains of trash littering the roads and bright and creative graffiti voicing the frustrations of those who experience want in a land of abundance. It is a vibrant place where one must keep moving just to stay in place. In many ways the city wore us out.

Even though my own home of Houston, Texas is the fourth largest area in the country it is a far cry from Los Angeles in terms of population and the problems that come with ministering to such an enormous number of residents. I found LA to be more than I want to handle at my age. I enjoyed the excitement for awhile but longed for a slower pace by the time that we departed.

Our three days in Los Angeles were wonderful nonetheless and I hope to one day return again. I have to admit that I found LA to be far less beautiful that the northern areas of the state. In spite of the luxurious estates of the rich and famous, Los Angeles still has a kind of gritty feel that evokes images more of the old west than opulent culture. It is a working man’s town where dreams seem likely to come true but often lead to bitter disappointment. It is a place filled with millions of stories that live themselves out while tourists imagine fantasies about what life must be like in this vast expanse. I have to commend anyone willing to try their luck in this city. It’s streets are both paved with gold and filled with dangerous detours but all in all it is a truly amazing place.