Encountering Earth

  I can't believe that I haven't posted since May 23! Four months! I have had some wonderful nature experiences, but for some reason, I have writers' block. Well, Barberville Falls rushed over me and said - get with it! I went to the Falls in Poesten Kill with a friend. The guidebook says that the 92-foot falls are "spectacular"! An understatement to be sure! The volume of water from heavy rains the week before made the falls an absolute torrent! It rushed and pounded seemingly from every rock. The water was a  frothy   white like it was being whisked by an invisible hand. Tannins in the stream created a cream latte color. Water thundered over the rocks with such force that the base of the falls was churring and creating waves. These waves of water caught the wind and turned back on themselves creating rainbows in the mist. It seemed that the mist was jumping off the water with abandon, reaching up into the colors and creating more. All this under a clear blue sky

 Spring has slid into summer. The leaves on the trees are full and green and giving shade. It seems like just a couple of weeks ago that I took a hike to Strawberry Fields over near Amsterdam. This lovely preserve is "managed" by the Mohawk/Hudson Land Conservancy. If you are local check them out; there is a preserve for everyone! As I hiked the two-mile perimeter trail, I noticed how the trees were at all different stages of leafing. Some Maples, eager to get going, were in full leaf. Magnificent in their reaching. The Oaks were a bit reticent. They usually are - the last ones to lose leaves -  hanging onto them into the Winter and early Spring; they are shy about Spring budding. Delicate amber leaves are mixed with the sepia catkins that will blossom into acorns. Standing back, looking up I was enthralled with the many shades of bronze the tree produced. There were Shagbark Hickories who were not having any of the coming-out thing! Large buds remained sealed tight. Apples w

 Spring is the season of running water. Earth thaws, comes alive, and is exuberant to start running. Water wants to go! Last weekend a friend and I made a pilgrimage to flowing water by visiting four waterfalls in the Adirondacks: Auger Falls, Griffin Falls,  East Jimmy Creek Falls in Wells, and Beecher Creek Falls in the town of Edinburg. (I leave any commentary about the names of the Falls to another time, just mentioning that Native Americans name landforms for a quality found in them, not for some dude that stumbled on them or bought them!)  Auger Falls was cavorting through a gorge in the Sacandaga River. The water frothed and foamed in white and the clear, translucent tea color that the hemlock-stained tannins provide. The rushing, jumping, twirling movement of the river, as it lept from boulders was thunderous.  Watching the course of the water was mesmerizing, even hypnotic! A cool spray rose from the falls. With it came the smell of "cedar water" - a way of describin

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  Did you ever take a walk in an "ordinary" place where you do not expect to see something unique? I was walking in Central Park a few weeks ago and saw dozens of small birds under the pine trees. The birds were sparrow size. The male was red-orange - looking like he was dipped in color - except for his black wings. The wings had unusual white bars. The female was larger. She wore pale yellow, with the distinctive white wing bars. I looked intently at them, trying to memorize field markings and enjoying their presence. I wanted to return the next day with binoculars. It rained. The following day they were gone. The park was probably a stop-over. I discovered that they often chatter away in spruce or conifer trees, eating voraciously. According to Cornell Lab All About Birds, i ndividual White-winged Crossbills can eat up to 3,000 conifer seeds each day! (I would like to know who is counting!) Look carefully at the picture and see that their bills do "cross" so tha

 The other day I went to Five Rivers to do a Raptor count. Before the count started I had time for a walk around the Beaver Tree Trail. The pond was still frozen - the ice looked brindled in jade and black swirls. On the opposite side of the pond, the ice was white. I know I have read explanations of what makes the ice different colors, but right now it was enough to enjoy the creativity of colors moving in elegant frozen waves. Icicles hung from the spillway. Reaching down into the water flowing beneath them. The last vestiges of winter.  Rushes were bent and broken by winter winds, snow, and ice. Soon, new growth would replace them. The earth was brown with ozzy mud. The kind that is just as slippery as ice. Hopeful trees were budded crimson against the sky. Willows flushed orange, so stark and striking. The sky was layered in soft blues, white and grey.  Dampness seeped from the ground and folded around me. The Raptor count  is a DEC project which counts the raptors seen on specific

 Ice. Even the sound, the hiss, the word makes as it slides over our teeth makes us edgy. Yes, we love it in summer drinks, cooling iced tea, and lemonade. But it strikes fear in our hearts as it comes down from the sky and covers the roads in terror. When it encapsulates wires and brings trees crashing down - then ice is a fiend, not a friend.  Having had a few ice-related falls, I know ice makes me tremble. But then I don my trusty microspikes and set out on icy paths with glee. That's when ice isn't intimidating but inviting. It beckons - "I have some delightful surprises for you"! Paths that lead to ice adorned creeks are so welcoming. Ice-covered branches bob happily in the water; ice-covered rocks shine in the sun. Ice sculpts itself as it clings to trees and rock faces. It has an amazing color palette. Depending on minerals seeping from tree or rock it may be amber, or jade or butterscotch or blue. It can be smooth as a mirror. It can be ridged deeply and resem

 Breathtaking. We all have had experiences that we describe as breathtaking. A stunning sunrise, or sunset. A night sky that draws us into the cosmos with magnetic attraction. Woods that are shrouded in snow. Ice encapsulating a tree. The roaring waves of the ocean. A magnificent flower. A mountain vista. Nature gives us many opportunities to take our breath away!  This winter I have had other experiences that are breathtaking - literally. I have had the pleasure of skiing on local golf courses and bike paths. Some days it has been frigid! The wind whips down and grabs my breath and makes me work for each gulp of air. I wonder- should I stop and breathe or just catch a bit of air before it is sucked away?  On Saturday, skiing across Long Pond at Grafton, I had to stop and put on my neoprene face mask so the wind wouldn't remove my skin! The power of the wind is always breathtaking!  I watched the wind blow through the trees spreading puffs of snow over the hemlocks. There was such

 A few weeks ago I took a hike at the Vischer Ferry Preserve. It was a grey day as much of January has been. I wondered if I could really see any birds since the light would not be very good, but I forged ahead. There is always something to experience in nature! I felt enveloped in a monochromatic gray. The sky was a veil of silvery clouds that reached down through the trees to the ground. Trees were etched in hues of washed-out black with brown shadows. The limbs and branches of each species sketching delicate traces or thick, dark lines across the clouds. The canal and march were frozen and the ice continued the pearly tones - white-streaked only in small places. I felt that I was lost in a Japanese watercolor! As I walked I looked more deeply and carefully. Grey was not the only color here! Muskrats had kept the water at the edge of the marsh open and brown reeds and loosestrife stood out there in the black water. The reeds towered tall and tan and rustled a song in the wind. Little

 Why do I do it? I was hiking with a friend, so I should ask, why do we do it? Do what? Go out on a morning when the temperature is 18 degrees, but the Weather Channel has told you "feels like 9". I asked myself this question last week as I put on layers of clothing to head out. Actually, I have hiked at much colder temperatures and left the house much earlier than our 9am rendevous time. But the question still hung in the frosty air. Why? Then we got to the trailhead of the Sanders Preserve. My question evaporated as I put on my microspikes for safety. The air felt and smelled so fresh, even if a bit frigid. The trail beckoned us into the woods. Lovely hardwoods greeted us. One of the first trees I saw was an Ash, so I had to give her a special greeting since these dear trees are under assault from the Emerald Ash Borer. Many other species called to me - Shagbark Hickory, Oak, Maple and then the coniferous- Hemlock, White Pine - all friends. The Oaks were especially magnific