LUCIFER FALLS- AUGUST-2011

Standing at the brink of Lucifer Falls its height and drop is impressive.

Although Enfield Creek is usually a fairly small stream, when swollen with heavy, quick downpours, spring run-0ff or long periods of rains, it can become a raging torrent! With swollen flow, large volumes of debris and rocks can alter the creek bed. This year I was lucky enough to visit before the flooding of late August, so the colorful algae growing on the rocks all summer were still there. Now the rocks have been scoured clean, becoming merely grey again.

Early this season when it was wet and flow was high, a large log got hung up at the very brink of the falls. Grasses, delicate and graceful, fresh and green, growing in rock cracks, belie the harsh reality of their existence.

Walking along the pathway edging along the cliffs, the falls opens up, revealing new looks with each step.

The level stratification of the layered rocks seems impossible. So much time to form, so uniform to be!!

Layer by layer the mountains drifted into the ancient sea and now exposed for us to see, to see and wonder how it and we came to be.

Lucifer Falls is but one of many water falls at Treman State Park, perhaps the loveliest of the parks in central New York!!

BOUNDARY ASH - AN OLD FRIEND

Early last fall into the woods I walked where I had not walked in many years. Wind and snow and ice and new tangled growth and even poison ivy, had hindered any desire to wander there. The goal was to visit an old friend or two, with whom I had shared this land. They of course had been here much longer than I.

When I came upon them they seemed in good health, had weathered recent life intact. One or two, I never was quite sure, so close they were together, large boundary ash they are. For many, many years they stood on the line, observing life’s comings and goings. How long I do not know, but it is a long time. The woods have grown around them reducing what they could see, but quietly they knew “the world was a changing”.

When younger the woods was not, all around was open, and spread their limbs they could, for young and vibrant they were. Just above them, also on the line, a white pine grew and spread its limbs to embrace wide-open space. Not far from each other and on the line they grew, grew bigger than all the rest, and towered high they did. When I first came here, they could clearly be seen from far across the valley, being high above the rest, marking clearly where the lot line was. Now the white pine has fallen, split in two during a long winter a few years back and the ash is surpassed in height by more vigorous off-spring.

As I left my old friend, I looked back and thought I saw a sadness in appearance, even an old limb seem to say good-bye. Much was heard with little said.