LATE MARCH WATERFALLS ITHACA, NY

This winter has been very long and now, as the end of March is near the cold is still entrenched. The nights are very cold, sometimes in the teens F. and the day time highs barely freezing.

In mid-March a glimmer of spring appeared but lasted only two days followed by almost 2 feet of snow one Sunday. But that is gone and as snow melt flowed in field and stream another chill arrived. This time only a few inches of snow fell and if it was November and not March it would be quite pretty.

Since the sun shines more in spring than in early winter and is much higher in the sky, the falls are nicer to visit. The shadows do not dull the glens and falling water.

This is the swimming hole waterfalls at Treman state park. The stream, Enfield Creek, is dammed in summer to provide a swimming pool. Early afternoon and the sun shines bright as the water shoots out of the narrow walls of the glen, exploding into a snow white cascade.





Next is Buttermilk Falls, at its base it too is dammed in summer to provide a swimming area in the warmer months.

Rarely is a winter photograph of this falls interesting because it faces almost due north and therefore, when the sun is low on the horizon, it is almost constantly in the shade.

But in late March the sun shines and brightens the stream bed and falls. And today a slight coating of snow makes the light more even, the shadows less harsh.

The golden glow of afternoon sun beautifies the ornamental grass plantings near the park ticket booth.

Soon the spring will return, but of course April is the cruelest month and is yet to be.

WINTER SILENCE

February 2011

At times in winter the silence numbs the spirit as the chill does to the body.
White upon white is but illusion, reality is forever gray the sky, forever gray the night, forever gray is bright as onward winter drifts.

February 17

The wait of winter oppresses even though today the temperature is somewhat mild~45 F. The air is heavy with moisture, the clouds gray and burdened, calm is still everywhere. Snow is heavy, dirty, unclean, ice is everywhere gray and slick, a winter’s worth of compressed moisture on walkway and drive. Every seep is froze gray as sun warms and thaws, while night freeze builds. Winter seems eternity, yet eternity still lies so far ahead.
When brief appears the sun its rays slant at angles last seen in late fall as fall was in decline. The last leaves of summer growth holding on until their time to fall. A golden ray, deep slanted, gloried their final days.
Now the sun is quite recluse, rarely ever about, its golden rays strike bare and dormant buds just playing a waiting game. The February sun is as strong as November but seems not.
December and January predate this month with very long nights and weakened sun. With dark nights the rule, chill earth is February’s legacy, not as September and October warmth is to November’s, and so all is still, so quiet, so still.
Awake, awake February sun, announce that spring is near, free the cardinal’s song for all to hear, free the joy with raucous noise to awaken quiet fields, arouse the crow to caw its ancient tune, and bless the little chickadee, happiest of winter woodland souls, exploring every wrinkle in the bark of every woodland tree.
But for now it is just so still, quiet presses into each soul, the wait of winter still, for as yet the rills and brooks drip not with spring.

All is still, so quiet, so still.