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 rapto...
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 ...
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