Last week I took a walk on the bike path along the Mohawk River. I tried to pay attention to the changes in the river since the weather turned cooler. First of all, the invasive water chestnuts that had chocked the shore were gone and the water ran freely. The reeds and the cattails were turning brown and struggling to stay upright in the Autumn wind. The geese were gathering close to shore; mallards too. An ice coating formed on the water. It was thin and subtle, but it foretold the coming of the winter. The water of the Mohawk would be stilled by the ice, resting from its labors. I love to watch the freeze-up process - some years huge chunks of ice cover the river. Paying attention was the gift of the day. The river was speaking of this transition to winter; it told many tales. I love this river that braids through Schenectady. It has its story and mine is included with it. Tenonanatche is its native Mohawk name - "a river flowing through a mountain". Native names a...
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Leaves... I love this quote, "Lord, let your love fall down on us like Autumn leaves". The leaves are such blessings to the whole community of life. They thrill us with color. They tantalize us with textures. They gentle our path and make music as we walk through them. Squirrels use them for nests. Little critters like bugs hide in them. The forest floor rejoices in receiving the abundance of prospective new soil and insulation from icy winter storms. Often times they are seen as a nuisance - work in raking or leaf blowing, collecting, bagging, etc. Truth be told our landlady has someone do these tasks so I can wax poetically about the leaves. But I have been trying to pay more attention to each leaf - each has a journey, each is unique. I focus on each singularity, never to be repeated leaf - well of course not everyone, but a few individuals! A leaf caught in a fence, a leaf spinning from an oak tree, a leaf floating on the water of a pond. The veins in the leaf help me...
Fall is one of my favorite seasons! The colors are rich and luscious. The textures of trees and branches being un-dressed and plants showing their inners are so fascinating. The crunching of the leaves, the calling of the geese, the last songs of the crickets create a symphony of sounds. Last week I walked the towpath at the Vischer's Ferry Preserve. The marsh was resplendent in its dying. Cattails were turning from green to yellow; their tails were bursting open with soft, plushy fiber that holds their seeds. Reeds were yet refusing to bend to frost, so they set a green background. The vines were brilliant crimson. Oaks put on a deep copper color. Maples flamed in reds and oranges. Poplars seemed unimaginative and turned yellow and brown. I kept saying to myself- pay attention! When did you ever see such an amazing palate? Drink in the beauty and the wonder of how nature dies in style! What do you love about Fall? Please share it!
Last weekend I was in the Adirondacks and took a hike to a waterfall. The day was a luscious sky blue. The kind of sky that wants to pull you into eternity, until you realize that eternity is always right where you stand! The falls were running - a steady flow that bounded and lept over the rocks. The flow was just enough to cause the water to shine in the sunlight coming through the hemlocks. But it wasn't a cascade that covered the rocks. There was a gentle play of water and rock, water and sunlight. A gentle music filled the air and lulled me to sleep in the arms of the roots of a hemlock. Fast asleep! I awoke, feeling like Rip van Winkle and thinking I'd better get up and get going, or who would find me there? But I fell back into a sweet slumber. I felt grounded, held, peaceful. Mother Earth wants to sing to us, to be with us, to soothe and heal us. When do you allow her to do that?
I am usually consistent about doing things - especially things I enjoy. So, I ask myself, why don't you consistently do your blog? I haven't done a post since March! Sometimes, I think I just want to give up all environmental work. The news is bad and getting worse. I find all the destruction really depressing. But that is a poor attitude since one of the purposes of this blog was to share encounters with Earth and invite others to do so too! So this is my attempt to get back on track. The last Sunday in September I took a delightful hike to the Strawberry Fields Preserve outside of Amsterdam. The preserve is managed by the Mohawk Hudson Land Conservancy www.mohakhudson.org It was a blue sky day with mare's tail clouds high in the sky. The trail was well mowed and effortless. The trees were an amazing diversity of oaks, hickories, cherry, maple, and hophornbeam. Purple astors and lavender fleabane dotted the field. But the reason for my pilgrimage there was the fringed ...
I have a connection with hawks and birds of prey. It really goes back to 2006 after my brother Tom died. Tom spent his life in a wheelchair because of a birth defect. He never let that stop him. I remember well his drive to get a job, to go to college, to engage in sports, to have a social life. A few weeks after Tom died I went hiking and climbed Allender Mt. I was bereft and feeling so down. As I sat on the top of the mountain a falcon whizzed by me and hovered out about 30 feet in front of me. I was startled to say the least! Then I laughed. I felt that Tom was visiting me telling me that he was free and enjoying his new freedom! Ever since then, I have had some very interesting experiences with eagles, hawks, and falcons. Each time I feel my brother's presence, his humor, and his care. A couple of weeks ago I was taking a walk and talking to a friend. I looked up to see a red-tail hawk perched on the top of a pine tree. He was large and the top could barely support h...
Waiting for the right moment... I was out skiing the other day. The weather was pleasant. The golf course was mine. A hawk flew from a stand of trees, calling as he went. His wonderful hawk call resounded over the course. Then I heard another hawk in the same stand of trees. Persistent, like she was unwilling to let go of her friend. But on close examination of the voice in the trees, I realized that it came from a blue jay imposter! I had read that jays will imitate hawks, but I never experienced it myself. So there was the jay, as bold as anyone calling hawk-like and hiding in the low branches of the pines. The more she called the stranger the imitation, but she was unvexed. I had a good chuckle! It was worth the wait! A hawk bursts from an Aspen: climbs, dips, ...