Saunterings: Photo-essays exploring nature's truths and beauty.

JANUARY-2012 JOURNAL

2012-01-18T11:17:00.002-05:00

JOURNAL-2012

Thus begins a new year, beginning now, ending how?

A small rent in the earth, formed by years of erosion and glaciation, is my quiet and special place, near enough to reality to hear the world go by, but sheltered enough to protect against intrusions invading ones thoughts. For as a ray of golden sun penetrates the newly opened autumn canopy, that special ray seems meant for me. Meant for me to see, to know and attest to its glory. Nowhere rays, nowhere in particular, each becomes within when I am about. We all have our special rays shining only unto ourselves, enlightening the special we each are. Sometimes to be shared, sometimes best to be kept within, for others see not as you and may not understand.

JAN. 6, 2012

JAN. 12, 2012 as sometimes I do not understand.

Winter chill has been rare and even now the ground is soft, springy even. Although the morrow will bring a change and near zero may be on the week-end. Two falls ago my creek was almost a stranger to me so seldom had I visited. With heavy snows and ice storms for several years building up debris by knocking down trees and branches, the stream had become an impassable mess. Last winter and spring heavy water flow had jammed the stream bed with logs and branches, rocks and mud and leaves. Instead of flowing over bed rock it flowed over this debris. Near the log jam itself the water flowed at a level almost four feet above the bedrock.

I had wanted to take photos of the area but it was not pleasant looking, so throughout the summer each visit was a working vacation. I moved branches and tree boles, rocks and mud, especially after each rain. Surprisingly the water channels I opened up widened and slowly the mud and leaves and small stones “floated” away. While it sounds like a lot of work, the water and rains did the most, I merely guided and encouraged. It is truly amazing how much stuff passes through this small ravine in the course of a year and yet superficially it still looks the same. I would guess the debris behind the log jam was four feet at the highest and tapered to bedrock at the first water fall sixty feet up stream. Not all was cleared out, but the main channel did make bedrock by this fall. The stream flow path is much narrower though, mud and leaves and twigs on one side, gravel and stones on the other.

JAN.13, 2012

Last night snow fell and November turned back to January. Every branch and twig, bough and needle, whitened. Into the woods the view was obstructed as if white leaves had sprouted overnight.

Now the snow is back it’s time to reflect again on fall with images captured of flowing streams, colorful leaves, on the ground and on trees, and summer warmth still fresh in mind.

JAN. 14, 2012

Below zero last night, calm and frigid at -2 F., but at least the sun will shine today. Although the snow fell yesterday and some breeze kicked up during the day the boughs and branches still suffer their snowy burden. Once evergreens sagging under heavy snow seemed “picturesque”, now they seemed stressed and sad. Perhaps I’ve seen too many broken and felled by ice or snow, friends disfigured or gone, leaving a vacancy in the heart as in the sky.

JAN. 17, 2012

Today the cold broke and all the trees are free from snow. Cold rain has shrunk the small amount of snow on the ground. Tonight’s freeze will ice the driveway, always fun.

Squirrels came out to play, first time since the bitter cold started the end of last week, at least 5-6 from every direction in the woods. Also turkeys made an appearance from the upper woods. They did not come down near the house looking for food since not much seed has been set out yet this year, only suet.

JAN. 18, 2019

Normal winter returned with seasonal cold and a few lake effect showers. Yesterday’s melt exposed the grass and three deer took advantage and grazed upon the still green lawn. Although there is some snow the green shows through, but the deer have not reappeared yet today.

With the warm snowmelt of yesterday the tree trunks and woods in general darkened with the wet. The lichens on the boles blossomed with color despite January being only half past. Remarkable is the resiliency of mosses and lichens.

EMERSON’S POND-FALL-2011- WATERY WEDNESDAY #162

2011-11-21T14:07:00.019-05:00

The week after the fall back to Eastern Standard Time is always such an eye-opener. So early comes the late, mid-day the evening time. One sunny day that week I spent an hour picturing the ravine and creek until the sunshine was beyond the ridge and the creek was all in shade.

Although well into November, the air was warm and still and in the open the sun had hours yet to shine, a perfect day for a chat with my neighbor, Walt, and to visit his pond. He doesn’t get to his pond as easily anymore, so after a brief chat on the driveway off I went.

From the spillway with the sun at my back, the water was calm and perfectly still. While walking around the pond, a stand of poplars, against the deep blue north sky, looked as if in reflection. Looking up seemed as looking down, sky seemed as water.

The ornamental grasses are at their finest in the fall, reflected in the water or catching sun rays reflected white or transmitted almost orange aglow.

High, thin clouds were moving in as the afternoon wore on. The reflections were ideal, but time was a concern, an hour or so at the pond, then I was back on the patio with Walt to talk the day away.

Nature Notes #136 THE GENUNG NATURE PRESERVE- FREEVILLE, N.Y.

2011-11-20T17:15:00.007-05:00

Lovely is the deep blue sky with dappling sun leaking through newly opened canopy onto fresh, leaf-covered woodland ground. Who can resist this invite, every day a new masterpiece of sun and blue sky, and leafy color above one’s head and at one’s feet.

Often fall can be cold and wet and windy, especially late October and early November, this fall we have been blessed with abundant sunshine. With adequate moisture and plenty of sun fall color has already lasted a very long time this year, although the color was not as brilliant as it could have been with a few more frosty nights.
The trail into the Genung Nature Preserve in nearby Freeville, N.Y. along Fall Creek invited one fine day, a short but pleasant walk, especially on an early fall afternoon, warm and full of sun.
An open copse of American hornbeam, commonly called ironwood or blue-beech, dominated a section of the trail. The open, airy look gives an almost mature feel to the wooded area and the reddish fall foliage, both on the ground and the few left on the trees gives a warm glow. Often recently abandoned farm fields growing into woods are a tangled mess of vines and shrubs, small trees and bramble.

A nice clump of coral mushroom was caught posing for a portrait, a brief moment basking in a spot of sun shining through a canopy break

Along the bank of Fall Creek a mature oak and younger maple held out their leaves to catch some last moments of sun for this growing season.

As the season is fall, the sun settles too quickly and with barely enough day left, Dryden Lake beckons just down the road . As the sun drops lower in the sky a fisherman, perhaps with un-baited hook to avoid being disturbed by a luckless fish, quietly sits soaking up his fair share of autumn sun.

Each moment needs to be savored, one never knows how many more, if any, warm and sunny fall days will be.

Written late-October, posted today. RDS

A TOAD'S VIEW OF COMING WINTER

2011-11-02T14:07:00.006-04:00

In mid-fall are summer days when temperatures deceive, except for turn-coat leaves, shadows long and days too short, the season is remiss, each mild day a respite from reality. For soon leaves will tumble, twist and float from on high to mosaic the ground below. The week-end of mid-October was like that, two wonderful misplaced summer days.
But then a front passed through and fall breezed in right behind. The southern-sent humidity dropped, as did the temperatures too. The reign of fall returned as it must with rain drops and leaf drops and spirits dropping too! Reality of the season returned.

We all handle the season’s change in our own way. Some are more sad than others that the prospect of the long winter looms!!

As an aside, I’ve seen toads out as late as mid-December in mild wet weather. Whether they had never began hibernation or were fooled by the pleasant weather spell I don’t know. But it is quite rare!

Also in the greenhouse I had a desert planting on the ground and while weeding once in late February the sand under my hand began to move, as I jumped up, startled, a toad wiggled from the sandy soil!!

One spring when lifting pots of perennials again the soil began to move!! Again a toad was coming out. The surprising thing was how shallow he had spent the winter. Between three pots, not more than 2-3 inches below the surface I could see the hollow he had scooped out. It was obvious this was his retreat from the winter. Being so shallow it was also obvious the soil around him must have been frozen during the winter months. I was really amazed!!

LUCIFER FALLS- AUGUST-2011

2011-09-20T16:38:00.005-04:00

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

2011-09-15T16:08:00.006-04:00

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.

JUNE-JULY WORDS AND IMAGES

2011-07-19T14:01:00.017-04:00

To the far right.
The snow melt and winter exposure left some interesting patterns on an old sheet of plywood propped against the greenhouse wall.
The image is a close-up view!

Early spring a small freshet guides the spring run-off around the house. In melting months the freeze- thaw slows or stops the flow.
At close-up, the frozen freshet seems an imagined glacier knocking vast forests in its wake!!!

Near the house on my property is a lovely brook and small gorge that is quite isolated from reality.
A nice escape not far away.

Last fall the brook was so very tranquil and idyllic, so peaceful and calm. But a very heavy down-pour this spring log-jammed and left a mess.

Each year it is amazing how dramatically it changes. The amount of stone and tree trunks and branches
that move through is mind-boggling.

Every few years a log-jam forms and the volume of material dammed up stuns.

This year unfortunately the nicest part of the stream bed was silted in.
Looking up-stream is a mess, but down-stream is still bucolic.
The images are from the same rock seat only in opposite directions. The difference is dramatic.
A few years ago the log-jam formed where the stream is the nicest now!!
The only constant I guess is change.

This is the Upper Falls area of
Letchworth State Park walking to towards the the falls. A train of containers is going over the RR bridge.

In mid June the evenings are long and shadows creep slowly across the scene.

The gorge walls cast their shadow on the falls but one side of the river banks still glows with evening sun.

I’m writing this on a beautiful July morning when all is as should be with a good ball-point pen that effortlessly glides the paper: not as lovely as a fountain pen, but who has any handy anymore.
I’ve noticed the last few decades that younger writers, when they take pen in hand struggle with said instrument as if each word written must be choked out of it. It is quite painful to watch. Pity the poor pen, pity the poor fingers choking the life out of words. Are thoughts and words such a struggle that pain itself must be endured to release, free, their meaning, their beauty.
I have tried to coax thoughts from a keyboard but not much of value flows. As my handwriting deteriorates, and since thoughts must be transferred to bits and bytes, soon my choice will be no more. Now I scribble with pen on paper then slowly, hunting and pecking, letter by letter, enter written thoughts into a computer. The job done twice.

Words and thoughts wander here to seems,
Hand written cursive twists and oxbows,
Floating along meandering streams,
Giving testament, life, to dreaming flows.

Warm the morning sun, golden hues, back-lit leaves and dew glistened evergreen needles. Yet in the shadow of the woods, down the gentle hillside slope, the cool of night still drifts. Out of the still dark woods shadow, a doe and new fawn wanders, wanders to my lawn swing as quietly in daydream I sit. They pause, about twelve feet away, she senses a presence, she stares, head bobs as she assesses. I bob my head in return, still she senses no fear just uncertainty. Her fawn is still unaware. I lift my coffee cup to sip, she has none and decides it’s time to retreat. A leap turn and a few quick bounds and they are gone.
An idyllic moment in my Eden! Not quite. Cruelty of the real world is too evident, for on her backside dozens of flies in several patches annoy her so. Constantly, but to no avail, her backside twitches trying to rid the flies. As she bounds away a swarm of the flies, about twice as many as I had seen from only one side, follows ready to alight as soon as she stops. There were no sores or any injury and she seemed quite healthy, barely annoyed.
Life sucks at times and on all levels. One can only wonder WHY! Be annoyed and die!!
Damn another mosquito buzzes me.

Two days later:
Warm rain refreshed the earth last eve. This morning’s dawn, gray from mid-night’s fog, awoke surrounding all with good earth smells, alive smells, as only an early summer shower can. Life’s exuberance perfumes the air. Life is at this year’s zenith, new born with fresh leaves and insects and birds and beasts. All is good!

SPRING TAUGHANNOCK CREEK

2011-07-10T13:02:00.010-04:00

Too often the destination becomes the journey and the between becomes a blur. A good discipline would be to start each trip a little early and set aside time for the “next time I’ll stop”s. When ever I vow to stop and do rewards exceed the effort. The journey is not longer only better.
For many years I’ve driven over the bridge via Rte 96 near the village of Trumansburg, NY that crosses Taughannock Creek. From the bridge is glimpsed a lovely, small waterfalls, just glimpsed because there are always places to go!! But I always look to see what I may see, I never miss the glimpse.

Occasionally if the journey is short I’ll stop to take a photograph knowing “a picture-perfect” image may be found. But each time I’m never satisfied, until one morning late spring on a June day this year. In the early morning light all came together, me with camera and spring and morning light and time to stop and look!
Walking across the bridge, to the left, the creek flows away, a shallow stream wandering with no haste, to the great gorge and falls of Taughannock. On the other side of the bridge, looking upstream, a small, quiet cascade forms and this morning is seen in picture-perfect light. The sun is slightly dimmed by morning haze formed overnight above Cayuga Lake, yet overhead, deep blue sky. Perfect!! The shadows cast aren’t as dark, the sun lit brights are not as “hot”. The blue sky glows the water bright.

Traffic roars over the bridge, pounding expansion joints to deafening extremes. But every once in a while a quiet as breaks occur in traffic flow, then, for a brief moment all is good. Soon the light changes as higher goes the sun. the magic glow is gone. The scene becomes daytime pedestrian.
I again cross the road and gaze at the stream below, watch the water flow, this time from my right as I walk. I take another picture and head on my way. After I look at my pictures at home I notice the “handedness” of view. The point-of-view is quite different. One has a left-to-right diagonal view, the other just the opposite. Yet, as I took the photos I was standing straight, looking directly down stream. The initial point-of-view was retained.

After getting back to the car, I continued down stream. From a pastoral, quiet calm, the creek soon plunges down a narrow chute and within a few feet opens into a deep gorge, gouged out of relatively soft shale rock. And soon another plunge, Taughannock Falls, gouging out an even deeper gorge as the creek races to Cayuga Lake.

Letchworth State Park in upstate New York

2011-06-22T12:48:00.020-04:00

Letchworth State Park in upstate New York is a special place for me. In the magical time of life when imagination and reality blend, as identity and values form, it’s beauty and agelessness impressed. Historical perspective, both human and geological, was absorbed. An outlook on reality, the who, what, when and where we each need to know took root.

In passing through a human life is short,
Enough time to wonder why,
But not enough to know.

Magnificent the Genesee Valley farms and hills and meadows and woods and vales, on and on seemingly from forever into the present, at one’s feet the present falls away on and on into the past. Layer by layer of age exposed, exposed by time. Forever ago vast ocean deposits where uplifted to form giant mountains of time, knocked down grain by grain to form vast level layers before me now, exposed by time and relentless water flowing, ever flowing ever removing grain by grain the ocean floor that once was a mountain top that was an ocean floor. Repeated not forever but cycled only few, for time is short yet time is long. Now I stand and see almost eternity where thick rivers of ice at times ran free. Not once, not twice but many times, making the valley of Genesee.

Passing through a human life is short.

More than once ice rivers, heavy and deep, flowed south, as the Genesee River now flows north, scouring clean the living earth, gouging deep and rending sterile the rock beneath. So small seems the living, so large loomed the ice. Again and again, it scoured, again and again, life retreated, again and again, the ice fell back and life advanced, reclaiming the barren land. However, each advance changed the landscape and before us now the result of life and ice in conflict so very long ago.

Further and further from ago highway hum makes numb.

Taking vast vistas at a glance frees the spirit, frees thought from earthly constraints.

Eternity almost becomes tenable. Into far distant eras, the mind easily slips, but projections into a future time remain remiss. Ahead is seen as only the recent past projected, seen as the result of what happened, not of what will be. Brief our sojourn, brief our history. Thinking back but only three or four generations is a monumental leap of imagination, for reality begins at our birth, all else is hearsay.
Someone living today could have spoken to someone who talked to a Founder, almost certainly someone who lived the Civil War. How brief the modern era, how changed the world in so few lifetimes.

Brief life’s light does shine,
Each a moment’s flash divine.

Many a year ago, a man named At and a woman named Sophie began a family. On the first of June this year, for the first time in more than a hundred years, no child of theirs breathes upon this earth.

The earth is now less. Blessed have I been to have known and loved and lived among their offspring and now blessed am I to carry onward in their stead.

Another Passing:
The sign’s askance, hanging, hanging sideways by only a single nail, looking sad as does the garden and drive. Invasive plants and time overtake. Few splashes of colorful blossoms defy the trend. It is sad to see, sad to feel, sad so much effort wasted.

Life is a struggle and relentless nature wins. Take advantage of your strengths for soon they will become your weakness.

Inspiration Point

Old age is difficult to fathom. Decline depresses. Youth’s strength, enthusiasm succumbs to eventuality. Change is constant, life is brief, life is change, and then life is over, a one-way ride to eternity. If each genetic being, the union of two other genetically unique beings yields a forever entity, why the pain and anguish of an earthly existence? Life is good, life is short, life is incomprehensible!! Endless seems the river flowing from source to sea, it is but delusion. Ebbs and flows beyond one’s years one’s only sense of eternity.

Ominous the cold, gray clouds, dripping heavy silence, stillness reigns, death in spring’s prime. The first of June, twilight, a life passed, one last breath and all is still.

Now At and Sophie’s kids are no more, and the world is less!!

Brief life’s light does shine
Each moment’s flash divine.

Rainbow at Middle Falls

Winter’s retreat-At Home and Sapsucker Woods

2011-06-21T12:56:00.001-04:00

Evocative is winter’s retreat, before spring begins and life awakens, invisible forces secretly work life’s magic. The air is still, so very still, and cool, a bit too cool; the sun is radiant, bright, too bright on the few remaining patches of snow. They sparkle so on this cloudless day as blue sky is as blue as blue sky can be. It seems that only in the late winter, early spring or mid October does such sky delight. Evergreens are splendid against the blue of sky and tans and browns of leafless trees and shrubs.
A lone crow breaks the silence, cawing his story for all his world to hear. Perhaps I am the only one to note his solitaire refrain so quiet seems the woods. I know I am not important in his world, but his caw renews faith that spring approaches, that is important in mine.
Although the sun is warm, the spring seeps are stilled from night’s chill. Despite the cold nights, a spring freshet near the house was busy with the season’s business; bringing life’s liquid from freshly melted snow to eagerly awaiting roots. So busy doing spring.
Now with only scattered remnants left the white snow blanket, now quite threadbare, retreats deeper into darker recesses of the woods. The cold hangs tightly in these chill pockets. Daylight’s bright sun and blue sky come at a price, paid with clear, dark, frosty nights of jet black sky and a penetrating cold that needs all day to thaw and soften remaining snow.

April 2011
For miles along the thruway, Interstate 90 between Rochester and Buffalo and on the parallel NYS Rte. 20, large sections of the wet, swampy areas and ditches, once the realm of cattails and redwing blackbirds are now are taken over by perennial pampas grass. In April, tall, these dried stalks are invading wetlands and overgrowing the valuable native cattails.
Last April was warm and tinder dry, by contrast this April was cold and moist. Last May there were even more unseasonable cold and late frosts. This May is yet to be.
May: Each spring has its unique personality. Some begin early, some late, some wet some dry, but all are sweet. This spring has been late and wet, last spring was warm early and dry but ended cold with freezes while many plant blossoms were peaking. This May I cannot remember even one frosty night, although in the valleys nearby I’m sure there was. Around here, I always fear an early spring because even if warm early May always gets cold late. Sometimes a frost, sometimes not, it depends on your address!!!!
Each day the forest closes in more and more as leaves bud out and unfold. Sad though the sight has become for now the earliest under story shrubs to leaf out are the non-native honeysuckles. Bird poop shrubs that now dominate mainly because the deer do not eat them and birds poop a lot. Sad the monolithic under story is almost devoid of so many natives. Even woodland spring ephemerals are becoming more scarce as the deer run roughshod through the woods. “Bambi” is quite destructive. Sad so few realize the damage. Superficially, the woods are still the woods but so many details are absent. In the mid 1990’s Cornell’s Lab of Ornithology’s Living Bird had an article about how deer induced habitant destruction may be harming woodland bird populations. But “Bambi” is so cute!!
To add insult to injury a few years back a destructive beetle all but eliminated many native and non-native viburnum species in our area. Native viburnum species bloomed over a very long period in spring and their berries ripened throughout the late summer and early winter months thus providing early nectar for insect species and also nourishment late for many birds. The brush also provided much needed cover of various heights to protect nests from predators.

Bambi lovers seem to love diversity as a worthy goal, but seem not to understand that woodland diversity is rapidly disappearing, that Bambi is a menace too. How many woodland birds cannot a living make? Superficially, the woods are there, the shrubs are there and all is good, all is happy in wonderland.
The swamps are not immune from sad but subtle change. For many years, purple loosestrife ran amuck in the muck, driving out cattails. Loosestrife appears in decline, weakened by an introduced insect that enjoys eating it.
But now a new invader, non-native grasses are overrunning the swampy areas, choking out the cattails. Because they have no colorful flowers, they are especially pernicious. Nobody really “sees” them.

APRIL-2010 FIRE @ MONTEZUMA WILDLIFE REFUGE, NEW YORK

2011-05-04T11:27:00.019-04:00

Unlike this spring when spring was late and very wet, last year the spring was very dry and early.

Driving up the east side of Cayuga Lake in the distance black smoke was seen in the sky from about the village of Aurora, half-way up the lake.

At first I thought it was a barn fire, but soon it was apparent the fire was in the marshes of Montezuma.

Soon it appeared to have burned itself out. Apparently it had been burning since 4A.M. and it was now early afternoon.

The non-native grasses that have newly invaded were tinder dry and burned quickly. Luckily there was no wind and spreading was reduced.

Since the fire seemed spent, I wandered to the nearby observation tower just as a new flare exploded into fire. The flames shot high again and smoke blackened the sky. But water and shorter plants restricted the spread and soon the flames died down.

Heading back to the car, an old black willow trunk, split and gnarled caught my eye.

Willows hold leaves late into the fall and often leaf out early in the spring. These leaves hold the wet and heavy snow that may fall early or late causing many branches and trunks to crack or break. Character is born from life's trials.

When looked at closely it is amazing the fantastic shapes and color and texture that reveal a beauty all its own.

In northern part of the marsh the NYS Barge Canal runs. These two images were the only real color to be seen this early in the spring except for blue sky and a little bit of green grass.

The locks and lock-master's house had just been freshly painted and just screamed to be taken!!

The strength of the rack and pinion used to open the lock is evident in its mass!

FALL -TALLULAH GORGE- GEORGIA

2011-04-19T17:29:00.026-04:00

Hurricane Falls

The goal of the visit.

Only the bottom portion is visible from an observation deck, but its height can be gauged by the rather large pool at its base. A large force must be at work to carve this pool.

Geology is a humbling science second only to astronomy. But geology is touchable, we trip and fall and pick ourselves up in geological environs. We can ponder the stars, but we can touch the earth, see the effects of time's passage before our very eyes. A speck of stone is revealed in each dawn’s light as new, never before seen by conscious beings, tiny specks of life that are aware as no other specks have been in the eons that is earth’s existence.

On July 18, 1970, the high-wire artist Karl Wallenda walked across the gorge. Only eight years before members of the Flying Wallendas were doing their famous human pyramid in Detroit, falling and killing two and injuring him. In 1978, eight years later he himself would fall and be killed while performing.
The towers used in 1970 are still to be seen above Tallulah Gorge, a grim reminder of a dangerous profession.

Just along the rim the long downhill trail to Hurricane Falls and the river bottom start. There is plenty of warning about the trail, all justified, 1099 steps I think! The downward steps aren’t that tough but uphill they turn against you.

Atop the rim of the gorge looking upstream, white waterfalls and rapids are seen, while looking downstream some pines cling precariously to the wall, and the beauty of the season and sunlight dramatically complete the scene.

Hurricane Falls is only partially seen from the bottom and the downstream look is mostly boulders. It is hard to believe that
kayaking is possible through the rocks but when the river flow is increased with releases from the dam it is quite popular.

Looking up the gorge walls you can see an overlook. I commented to a man that I had seen at the overlook earlier about how smart to be up there. He replied “ No, not really, because up there you what to be down here!!”

About two-thirds up from the river bed, past the suspension bridge above the falls, the steps seem endless!!

LATE WINTER THAW-SAPSUCKER WOODS

2011-04-01T15:23:00.030-04:00

Winter goose prints exposed in spring as thawing begins on Sapsucker Woods pond

Early in March a two day thaw and spring seemed so close. Silly me I made a trip to Sapsucker Woods thinking that this would be my last chance to see the retreat of winter. Chuckle, chuckle, Thursday and Friday were sweet with spring fever breaking out. Robins were arriving and Red-winged blackbirds too. Cardinals sang into the deep blue sky, chickadees and jays and even crows changed their tune!! Then Sunday early snow began, and fell for 24 straight hours and almost 20 ". Spring sprung a snowy leak.

This is what caught my eye when spring was on my mind and Sapsucker Woods called forth!!

Winter's first retreat is at the edge when dry draws the solar warmth and spreads to the wet.

Every non-white absorbs the ever-brighter sun and, as the degree days accumulate, dramatic changes occur.

In winter all is uniform, details matter less. But as spring draws near they matter and become early spring events.

For while most life is still dormant, the
the first hints are seen.

In nutrient rich, shallow ponds exposed to the late winter rays of sun, non-green algae starts to grow and spread in March "warmth".

Branches, twigs and sprigs and even sub-surface variations alter degree-days and magnify the effect.

The snow spots in the pond seem to be remnants of goose prints made in winter snow. Slightly compressed snow, compacted and with more moisture, freezes harder and denser in the cold that follows a brief thaw.

Adding yet another discontinuity that is magnified as thaw sponges solid ice.

Surprising is the color as the winter begins to ebb. Sky blue sky appears while even looking down, the fall leaf color brown and tinge of moss green portend the life abundant soon.

At Sapsucker Woods the trail crosses a road to a more wooded wetland that is so dramatically different from the large open ponded areas.

A twig in ice not visited by much sun is still encased in gray ice and not surrounded by brown algae. Is pi R squared or calligraphy displayed?
The wooded ponding areas are less nutrient rich and gray is ice color.

Along the H. W. Saunders boardwalk these roots of a long fallen giant have always caught my attention. Many moments of searching and with much film exposed I have yet to capture the feeling that I have when I pass and stare and reflect.
The years that have passed since this tree has fallen, the character and beauty, a patina of moss and lichen and old age, pine needles and and fall leaves, is never fully captured.

I guess the image is in my head and perhaps will stay put!

Patterns and swirls form as the ice slowly thins. Currents ever so slight enhance patterns and leave their mark to see. Soon all the ice will melt and patterns disappear.

Each spring paints images, ever changing images
never just the same.

LATE MARCH WATERFALLS ITHACA, NY

2011-03-29T14:27:00.006-04:00

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

2011-03-02T11:34:00.003-05:00

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.

SILENT WANDERS A MIND SAUNTERING

2010-12-09T10:43:00.001-05:00

Silent wanders a mind sauntering
Vast vistas in quiet soliloquy,
Seeking within, content in being,
Thoughts adrift about eternity.

Quiet is right, quiet finds luminance,
Illusions delude, thoughts so crude,
Pondering self, pondering existence,
Receive revelation in quiet solitude.

I know not others, I know not me,
I can only dream, imagine that I see,
For all I see exists only at my will,
From chaos to tumult to all is still.

Your bright rays are not my rays,
Your rainbows are not my rainbows,
As thoughts pass through all days,
Blessings untold, glory life bestows.

RDS

FIRST THOUGHTS ON WINTER'S BEGINNING

2010-12-06T09:37:00.004-05:00

December and winter arrived together, not unexpected, only dreaded. In early December winter seems to be in store forever! But eventually the daylight lengthens and the sun rises earlier each day, still two weeks from now by the way, and winter's beauty begins to snow. That is until waning March days when winter forever appears.

Crescent moon part aglow,
Dark abates but slight below,
Warm appears basking sunlight,
Delusion against chill twi-night.

Still and chill tests one's will,
Never a jay's screaming shrill
Cracks the morning still with chill
When from dark night frosts distill.

Short the sun's daily ascent,
Sharp journey's arc is bent
As the end of year is sent,
Gone forever, forever to lament.

RDS

LATE NOVEMBER THOUGHTS

2010-11-27T13:02:00.004-05:00

Wispy white brushed upon the blue, wispy white thickens to gray, to cover all the blue. Now the early wispy white thins ever so slight with a tinge of blue showing thinly through.

Looking at a single stalk of seeded goldenrod, dock or even freshly faded frost aster just recently gone to seed is a marvel to behold. Uncountable the seeds developed on even just one and uncountable stalks just within my line of sight. Prolific are the living trying to continue with a legacy, so awesome is the profligacy needed to survive. Also note well that each individual will continue this profligacy for many years, trying to legacy continue.

Go with the flow, an admonishment to be admired perhaps, but passion only just begins when flow becomes agitated.

A subtle drift of air from the east, as gently from the west a wisp of white envelopes blue and dissolves shadows into nothingness. Thinking of photons from the sun dancing or is that waves dancing on the nothingness, sustained only by electro-magnetic self. Clutter fills the mind, clarity floats away as clouds disperse shadows.

The quiet echoes between the ears, quiet are thoughts, no whirr of grinding gears, no vibrating hum of electron gigabytes galore.

MORE NOVEMBER MUSINGS

2010-11-20T11:40:00.002-05:00

Still, so very still, on a weak sun filled November morning. The chill of the black, starlit night stiffens still, all about, frosty blades of grass and still morning breath of air. Few are left the leaves, unmoved in the morning bright, single spider strand dangles pine needle in the calm, only the raucous blue of the jay disrupts the solitude.
Soon waning late sun of fall doubling with a southern influx, will rite the serenity. But as the sun path this late in the year is brief and low soon another black night will still again.

Life’s domestic chores must be done for the season as quiet as the natural world seems. No birds, no squirrels of chipmunks, no rustle of leaves hung from branches, dead calm is the afternoon air, even the bright sun cannot muster enough to disturb the calm. Such is a wan November day as the wait for winter has begun.

Soon bluster and snowflakes will rile the air, gray clouds abound, snow snakes will prowl the roads, and darkness will overwhelm both the mind and the spirit. So low the sun’s zenith it barely tops the trees. Even at the noon hour, shadows are so long they seem as cast from giants.

Again high clouds form in the west, its thin veil broadcasts the change. Fronts buffeting air masses frequently, fall hastens to winter. Late fall becomes the winter before the winter solstice arrives to begin our inevitable and tortuously slow march to spring. Today’s shadows are akin to late January but without the fate.

Even as now I write, gone are the shadows, blue sky and pleasant musings, thin clouds drift in from west to east. Tonight the stars will not twinkle, Orion will hunt unseen behind his cloudy blind, frost will not whiten, yet still is the calm.

IDLE SUNDAY MORNING MID-NOVEMBER THOUGHTS

2010-11-17T15:03:00.004-05:00

Clouds give sight to air, masses drift or storm across the upper atmosphere known only by the clouds that move. So subtle and sweet the many forms of water that envelope our very being, the sine qua non of our existence. Can life’s complex subtleties exist in another realm, say a methane “friendly” world or is the H2O dipole molecule unique?

Liquid, watery sap drawn up hundreds of feet from root to dormant twig to explode into a leafy canopy, all without mechanical moving parts. It’s magic, truly mystical in every conceivable way. Constant life’s current flows liquid and vapor, amorphous forms, rock-like ice given much character by temperature and pressure, by density’s intensity itself!

The strangest fact of life in the entire universe is not life itself but that ice freezes less dense than water. A miracle of miracles as miraculous as can be. A simple fact, quite unique, but the basic fact of life is ice floats!!! And so our living world exists.

Clouds form and float, ice forms and floats!

Clouds form and rain falls, so simple a basic fact, but WHY. What if water vapor was slightly more dense than air, how would water get from here to there?

A distant cloud shadow blues the tree horizon as from the west a weather front advances. Slowly more white than blue, soon late fall sunshine will disappear too and spring in fall will yield to winter’s approach as the week comes to end.

But first a gentle, aimless breeze is developing some character. Swirling first east and then west and now only west, change one could say “is in the air” and in the clouds and inevitable.

Another cup of coffee later quiet again, advance clouds are thinning into drier air just east of here. Distant western horizon clouds thicken, but wind was east and now within minutes from the south, now calm with slight east drift, now south, a little more brisk enough to twirl a few leaves across the way. A quiet coffee morning watching a distant flag, a quiet Sunday morning before winter perhaps begins. Back to flag observing, it is pointing west by gentle eastern breeze, now south but drifting west again, now southerly in bent, but tending west again. The tension is almost unbearable!!!!! But now I must go, my coffee cup is empty and my sunshine is fading fast.

And now I must go home. RDS

SAUNTERING NIAGARA FALLS

2010-11-15T13:02:00.004-05:00

Low the late October sun, chill the northern blow that may chill worse than a winter’s blast, trees less of leaves, open vistas long obscured, crowds thin too, not around to view, all the glory of an evening sun at noon. Sparse the leaves, sparser still the crowd, but glorious the mighty falls, the wonder that is Niagara.

Glimpsed through new formed vistas, the river gorge below the falls opens, framed by foliage colorful and still glowing with autumn’s shrubs bared not yet by late fall breezes.
The arch of the Rainbow Bridge and the half-arched Observation Tower become new focal points now the leaves of trees are almost gone. Arches are of course less obtuse than a glaring straight line, and a simple, single tower accomplishes its need while not overwhelming its surroundings.

Once my images would always strive to avoid man-made intrusions, intrusions into the natural world, but now I see they intercede not intrude, are necessary at times to give scale and perspective to the awe at hand.
Today’s chill breeze suppresses the mist of the falls and hustles it towards Canada opening the view on the American side and making the saunter drier and more pleasant.
The torrent, the headlong rush to the brink and frenzied final leap off the edge to froth and foam and white purity freed by power basic, but almost divine, mesmerizes. Standing so close, at the brink, the glorious line between the flow and the chaos, before such force, eternity beckons.
I have always loved to wonder above a waterfall, as the quickening pace of the water’s flow begins its rush to the edge, seemingly oblivious to all the tumult that lies ahead. However, water, unlike the living, emerges unscathed by such chaos, tumult and abuse, for after this horrific ride comes the calm again. Not so us!!

Niagara Falls is split by Goat Island. On the USA side the falls of Niagara is called American, the falls in Canada is called Horseshoe, Horseshoe is obvious, the title American seems only a mere afterthought. The falls called American is more accessible and personable.

Many small “islands” dot the river immediately above the precipice, even if quite small, each supports some woody growth, defying the majesty and awe-someness of the great Niagara. In the spring, I have seen large ice floes rush the scene above the falls that should scour clean each “island”, yet the trees and shrubs still seem to defy and life clings brazenly.

Goat Island, someday destined to be a pinnacle perhaps, as the falls inevitably retreats from that ridge of limestone known as the Niagara Escarpment, divides the great Niagara River into unequal parts, the Horseshoe Falls much larger and dramatic, and the American Falls smaller and accessible.

In the late October season, with no jostling crowds to contend, solitude and piety indulge the moment. A vast force intoxicates, humbles and empowers, universal thoughts collect, time disperses, uniting forever with today. Humbling is the great falls of Niagara!

EARLY OCTOBER THOUGHTS AND IMAGES

2010-10-04T10:14:00.004-04:00

Gently fall the yellow honey locust leaves, russet colored white ash leaves descend to the earth from on high, droopy are the blossom spent goldenrod and aster blue or white, exhausted in the summer heat of almost early fall! ~90F.

Oppressive is the newly arrived fall, resigned to summer heat. Quickly on the morrow a front will toss the heat and brisk chill will follow, follow on the retreat of this last of summer heat. Always one must remember wherever one does live nothing more can be asked of the weather than “Give me long-term averages and no questions asked.”

Retreat the summer green, early stress of shorter days and late summer dry, protect against come what may, abort excess to save the rest, early fall is late summer triage. Slow the summer dies, quick the fall advance. Leaf by leaf the story’s told, how the summer dies, but fall does not begin, it’s seen as summer’s end.

Standing beside a stream the water rushes by; following along stream banks, to its source or end, streams seem a journey. Perception changes from one’s attitude, along the banks when sitting at one spot, life is seen as passing by, always changing, yet never has beginning nor even an end, but walk along a bank and as each bend and rill leads to another, life’s a journey once again. Take the time sit and watch and take the time to walk.

From where I sit, a sugar maple changes into fall, mid-September and already one third is a lovely Red, two thirds remain a summer green. Each year this tree is among the first to change and always the pattern is the same. As the tree grows on a very dry embankment to its north, dry stress would seem to favor the north side. The south facing branches seem to be the first, perhaps added stressed by the summer heat? Anyway, the blush of Red begins the tree’s undress of summer greenery.

I always love the many shades of Red in the early fall. Red is the color, the color that is fall, from berries to foliage to fiery sunsets, the glory that is fall.

Fall also seems spider time, everywhere they appear. Especially tiny ones that like to wander and jump about. The arachnid wolves who hunt and stalk, not ensnare. Some how this seems a more honorable way to gain ones nourishment than weaving webs of death.

Soon some quiet night, out of clear black darkness a killing frost will fall, thereby ending all tender summer growth. Sometimes it seems a blessing if early frost is hard, mercifully ending daylight-starved, suffering summer plant life, or worse soft-frost disfigured beauties lingering on and on.

Although fall weather following a killing frost can yield pleasant days, these days are but an interlude, only a false image of summer plenitude. Spring and fall transition times are better than the doldrums summer heat and winter cold present.

LATE SEPTEMBER MUSINGS

2010-09-30T15:35:00.004-04:00

Dragonflies zigzag the open lawn!!

Earth-bound August morning dew twinkles as July’s evening fireflies, falling out of the dark starry-night, twinkling only from one very special spot. Formed from star-filled sparkling nights, they are, perhaps, ephemeral starlight, not just diffracted sun rays, for sunny morning delight. Each drop seems a blinking rainbow in the morning light or perhaps a blinking Morse code from starships far away, revealing eternal truths for every one to see.

Drifting in a ray of morning sun, strands of a night-constructed cobweb death-trap float gently in the air, harmlessly passing by. I’ve seen a spider fall from a branch fifteen feet to the ground, attached to a silken bungee cord, formed so effortlessly. How can so much silk so quickly flow from such a tiny source? Truly does astound!!

The first hints of fall’s approach are seen in the early goldenrod. Goldenrod, glory of the fall, has kin that blooms late July and early August and is quite the family, friends of insects, butterflies, wasps, bees, bane of gardeners, farmers, livestock and many other fall bloomers. A stand of goldenrod, Solidago sp., covers dense areas with invasive, overlapping roots and rhizomes, choking out virtually everyone else.
Not eaten much by bugs or foragers, only stung by gall mites that disfigures but doesn’t really harm, Solidago canadensis is the worst offender. Makes one wonder why it hasn’t taken over the entire sun-drenched areas of the northeast. However, eventually a stand weakens, becomes shaded or invaded, a bad season may give reason, but someone moves in and changes the neighborhood.

Change is always King, variety the spice of life, to resort to an old cliché. Seems clichés become old because they speak such basic truths.

ATOP MT. WASHINGTON, NEW HAMPSHIRE

2010-09-21T16:23:00.003-04:00

From meadow and valley fields, though open deciduous woods, then dense evergreens growing smaller as road’s ascent grows longer and higher and vistas begin to open. Then in a well- marked demarcation trees reach their end of line. Grasses, sedges, few small flowers too, barely clinging to mountain side, mosses rare and lichens, yellow bright, declare tree line is finally reached. Life becomes most difficult.

Winds whip, abrade with specks of rock, freezes thaw, then freeze again, well below the base-line norm. Botanic life is shorn of height, hiding from the furies might, between weather ravaged rock, sheltered in frost created cracks, within a pile of freeze created rocks.
Primitive and basic, life is lived in extreme, as from beginning it does seem. Water is life’s necessity, water is the enemy. While flowing moist it nourishes, wind-driven, frozen-dry discourages.

Imagination cannot comprehend the time that has been spent to construct and destruct such massive stuff. Fragile and easily destroyed we are, civilized but not too far, searching for a place to realize who we may be and Why. Reduced to insignificance we seek to find our magnificence, but there is no inevitable defense, for soon we all will be past tense. That is what unites us all, visitors from around the globe, to clamor to the top to find ourselves in awe.

At the top of the northeast all the world comes to see, by foot, by rail, by car, truly an amazing sight. Many languages spoken, bound by a common bond, to stand atop Mt. Washington, to stand atop and stare. Stare to see forever, everywhere, a universal need, a universal desire. Many cluster a the top, the goal being reached, but few stop along the way to discover that the journey is the true goal, the peak but a brief reward, a trophy.

The mountain train has been climbing the this high peak forever, a hundred fifty years. The highest peak was much higher once, forever ago, two hundred million years, give or take a few. Forevers are indeed forever, forever will they seem. Each forever is forever in its own esteem. Each a cosmic blink depending how you think. On the macro-side the frost chunks the rock apart, forever freezes thaw and water slips between, on the micro-scale lichen does the same! One an act of physics, the other of chemistry.

Billowy white the clouds that float the sky become gray fog when with mountain peak collide.
Slow the rock does bend and fold, perception does lie, rock is not as solid as we’ve oft been told, for solid rock so old belies such tales told bold.

Browns and tans and greens and yellows, bright blooms , dull seeds, bright seeds, dull blooms, in the late summer the stress of living shows how great the toll extracted. The pain of reality, reversing one small patch of entropy, is obvious, yet so painful to see. Wonder what the point is really meant to be. Strive and die forever, but prepare to future face? Such is the faith of living, running the great race. For each life exists to better life for life yet to be.

MID-AUGUST THOUGHTS

2010-09-06T20:16:00.006-04:00

There is no blue as blue
As the blue that is the sky,
Golden sunlight upon the air,
Blue scattered to your eye.

BODIE ISLAND LIGHTHOUSE
OUTER BANKS
NORTH CAROLINA

Collected caws of several crows that rang throughout the woods ending month of July, have been replaced by raucous rantings of blue jays when mid- August appears. Loud and boisterous, the world around here belongs to them, at least for this moment. Must be family obligations end sooner for old crows than it does for the jays.

As an aside, the goldfinches seem to be just pairing, still carefree as a summer breeze.

A few thin wisps of white dot the blue bright, drifting features across pure blue. Soon more wispy white floats thin and general haze begins. The blueness of the blue sky dulls as mid-morning air fills with moisture-laden vapors.

Plaintive lament of mourning dove, what caused your grief, such endless sadness compelled to proclaim for all to hear. What pray tell, what can be the source of so much remorse. Sadness sung when spring has begun and domestic chores can overwhelm, such sadness at the prospect may be understood, and now spring has gone and summer to reflect, surely some joy is to expect, but again your sad lament. Perhaps there is a sad thought that the task is now complete.

As mid-morning passes on towards noon, the jays are gone, all is silent, all is calm. Slight is leafy movement, quick is wispy flowing whiteness. Cool is becoming warm, and warm is the forecast, return of haze and hot and humid.

Since life’s excess is yet to be,
Morning light can not compete
With glory color that ends a day.

Filled with life’s breath so moist,
With brilliant blue fading gray,
Golden globe sets a glorious way.

From air that was crystal clear,
Life-filled, mid-summer’s day
Sun set sweet on crimson play.

RDS

SAUNTERING SAPSUCKER WOODS-MARCH 2010

2010-08-10T10:40:00.009-04:00

.....................Thoughts..........................
In solitude thoughts drift in and out,
Words rarely make the page,
In company words drift about,
Thoughts rarely make the stage.

Late in the month of March winter weariness sets in, spring crowds out the last of winter thought. But after a long, hot and humid spell in July and August winter thoughts become more “pleasant” shall we say. And so I add these thoughts to my blog although the saunter was long ago in the late winter.

Slowly dies the winter in the month of March. Quickly one day becomes the summer, spring barely makes the scene. Spring is but a state of mind slowly building in the soul, building as slowly as, day by day, the sun rises in the sky.
In the earliest of spring, often late winter by calendar reckoning, winter retreats but gradually. Small, shallow ponds seem to freeze the hardest, are held in winter’s grip the longest. Slowly, ever so slowly, long after their shorelines have shed winter’s icy grip, released from winter bondage, ponds reluctantly, concede to spring!
White snow covered surfaces gradually go grey or may even surprise with an orange color, almost rusty from winter algae growing wherever winter sun had often appeared. Solid winter ice sponges in the warming, growing days, punky and crumbly like a rotting woodland log returning to the soil from which it once had once sprung.

Soon spring rings the ponds and ice continents separate into but islands in the sea. Life, never really killed by winter, slowly revives to prosper in the sunshine glory that is spring. Notice, notice, always take note subtle changes every spring day. Always notice, changes always changing is the game, day by day, year by year, ever are the changes changing to unite us to eternity.
Plants are such wonderful time-temperature integrators and never is that more apparent than in the early spring. Sun warmed soil springs life forth quickly and where the snow lies longest, green always grows the last.

Soon the sun begins to fade, a last sparkle in some icy water mix and I go home!!
RDS

SUMMER SAUNTER AT SAPSUCKER

2010-08-07T15:02:00.013-04:00

A calendar year is a very long short space of time. So much occurs in duration, but in end seems yet yesterday. Each passing year is compressed when comes to close, but exists forever while living.

Last summer an evening was spent at Sapsucker Woods to photograph the summer sunshine. Two weeks ago another summer evening was spent at Sapsucker seeking images of mid-summer bright. In summer, woods are mostly just green and dark from leafy canopy’s shade, a respite from the summer heat, but the light does not excite. After a cool and refreshing cold front passed through, pushing away recent heat and oppressive humidity, open areas, recently too hot, welcomed with open arms, a restless soul.

A year ago the summer was cool, a brief hot spell in April was about all we could call summer!! Long daylight of June was largely wasted because of the chill. Days of course were long but degrees where lacking, shrinking the magic degree-days needed for growth, dwarfing plant production, so to speak.

The ferns along the boardwalks luxuriated in this summer’s heat and humidity and sufficient rainfall. Never stressed they grew and grew, easily reaching 5 ft. for some, over flowing the boardwalk itself, lush, beautiful green, full fronds , so dramatic. Last year the ferns barely made 3 ft. and were much more sparse. And two years earlier, they actually took on a fall look by August because of a long dry, hot spell.
An interesting side-bar to this season’s story. Last year the cool weather was kind to some planted “wild-flowers” at the sanctuary. The bergamot plants were superb last year. They were planted in full sun but prefer dappled sun at clearings or creek sides, not liking to cook in the hot sun. Last year, because it was cool they did fine, this year not so good. They were not happy sweltering in the heat or humidity. Perhaps some seeds will find a spot more to their liking in the future!! So every year is different, every year some are happy, some are sad. Every year is not all good, every year is not all bad.
But what is consistent from year to year is the journey of the earth around the sun, around it’s axis, around and around. Late afternoon becomes early evening, shadows become longer at noon, day’s end-pieces yield softer, less harsh light. From the end of July, each week the length of daylight and shadow is more noticeable, as September and October approach the pace quickens, i.e. “time-rate of change” becomes greater to use an old calculus term.

The sun has almost set
And then its time to go home!!
RDS

ANGEL INSPIRED RESTLESS SUMMER THOUGHTS

2010-07-27T09:51:00.004-04:00

Glimpsed but sporadically through the leafy canopy,
Southward glances in the pre-dawn darkness,
Silver slivers of light are seen, but it's not the rising sun,
It is the near-new moon giving false sun to me.

In darkness of predawn only light to see,
Is reflected sun shining from the moon.
Although too far east to be seen
Your sunlight still reaches me.

In mid summer, morning light is early
And twilight still seems so long.
Finally the sun comes into view,
Silver moon develops golden hue
Before dissolving into blue.

Blue sky o'er takes the golden moon,
But still the moon glow twinkles through.

Mysteries of mysteries our magical point of view,
Why are the moon and sun same size.
Humbling to marvel, surmise, on such eternal whys.

How special is a conscious being,
How unique the act of seeing.
Life is here, simple, complex not clear,
Why is the question that is so dear.

Why reflect upon the moon and sun early on summer morn.
Perhaps to see an angel and an inspiration too!!

I have not posted much of late, not sure why. Then a special angel came and inspired me!! Thank you K!! RDS

Niagara Falls in winter

2010-02-10T14:34:00.002-05:00

WINTER SAUNTER AT SAPSUCKER WOODS

2010-01-29T14:42:00.005-05:00

MESSAGES- SUNDAY SCRIBBLINGS

2010-01-25T09:38:00.005-05:00

MESSAGES

Words transmitted quick as thought
Understanding by others sought,
A moment clear in poet's mind,
Words, echo, re-echo and unwind
Around, around inside anothers head,
Until all meaning's mixed instead.

Brief moment froze in poet's mind,
Becomes to another an insightful find,
Insightful meaning with each read,
In reader's mind reflects indeed,
The many moody moments found,
Deep, deep within the reader bound.

................RDS

2010-01-19T10:14:00.001-05:00

WINTER'S RESTLESS SOUL

Restless is the night,
Darkness haunts my weary soul.
Wandering beauty with insight,
Offers only brief respite
From the demons of the night.

Darkness fills with restless dread,
As silence echoes in cavernous head,
So much so often left unsaid,
As silence speaks too loud instead.

Last week moon light glances
Danced upon the snow,
Tonight only darkness dances,
Dances until morning glow.

......RDS

DISTANT ROMANCE ONE SINGLE IMPRESSION # 8o

2009-09-08T17:57:00.001-04:00

DISTANT ROMANCE

Two heart’s begin to beat as one,
As innocent love’s journey has begun,
Though heart and soul are one to see,
Love’s heat and passion cannot be.

Although time has lost it’s sway
And great distance melts away
And even with love’s bond today
Love’s heat and passion must delay.

Lover’s eyes will forever search
Into each soul themselves to see,
Reflecting delight in lover’s sun,
Blinding their sight of everyone.

On soft shoulders lovers rest,
Wrapped arm in arm lovers play
At dream’s love imagined best
As great distance melts away.

.............................................RDS

SAUNTERING SEPTEMBER MORNING NATURE NOTES # 25

2009-09-07T16:37:00.021-04:00

Sauntering September Morning

Sauntering a September morning at Sapsucker Woods at the break of day and beyond, armed with a thermos full of coffee and a camera, the morning was full of promise. It did not disappoint.

The big surprise of the morning was talking to a beaver out strolling the path ahead. He didn’t say much, left in a hurry, told me his presence then splashed in the pond. Swimming under the surface, seen only by a trail of bubbles lasting but four feet, soon he was gone.

The first glimpse of sun through the trees reflected gold and glory off the Fuller wetlands pond and water lilies. First light is magic but fleeting, a lot like my buddy the beaver.
It is surprising how quickly the sun moves at the horizon. When trying to align and compose a photo time is of the essence. What catches your eye is not static and may soon not be there. Gold of sun lasts not long.

Reflections are nice in the late summer light.

The inevitable creep of water lilies will choke out the reflection of this landmark barn at Sapsucker Woods.

But the morning stillness perfects the illusion that the world looks upside down

An hour later the sun spotlights the woods, giving accent to normally obscure scenes. A simple fern frond appears dramatic.

Lit only by a shaft of morning sun and framed by shadow, mushrooms, the fungus “flowers” of the fall woodland, give color in dark woods.

A cup of coffee later, the sun is not golden but silver, giving a new look to the very same spot.

Hiding the sun’s globe behind water lily leaf edges sparkles the water’s surface.

The lateness of the summer, accented by lower sunshine angle, shows dramatic in the occasional, premature coloring of some tree branches. Stressed by too much or too little summer moisture, fall colors spot the woods and fresh, dried leaves speckle the ground.

Muskrat trails part the weeds like spokes of a wagon’s wheel. The shortest way across a circle is through the center, even a muskrat figures that.

Soon the sun is high and shadows shorten,

time for lunch and camera packing,

and so I go home.

.....................................................................RDS

BOXCAR-LOADING DOCK RESTAURANT

2009-08-31T16:26:00.005-04:00

BOXCAR-LOADING DOCK RESTAURANT
circa 1986

ITHACA, NY LANDMARK FOR OVER 30 YEARS

Built in the 1960's by TV personality GARY MOORE'S son after graduating from the Cornell Hotel School. This was his first "theme" restaurant and was very successful as a noted bar and restaurant.

Behind the restaurant was the famous Warehouse bar, a sheet metal building that was one of the largest drinking establishments in the state, those were the days of 18 year old baby boomer drinkers!!

Currently the property is an orchid growing facility with only the Loading Dock section of the restaurant left. The original Boxcars were torn down in 2004!
.........................................................................................................................RDS

BLUE MOOD RISING ONE SINGLE IMPRESSION

2009-08-30T10:50:00.006-04:00

BLUE MOON RISING

Protect a very secret, special spot,
One's vulnerable and secret heart,
And almost always come to rue
Allowing anyone at all to view.

Vulnerability but seems a curse you see.
Angst begets a sorrow not meant to be,
Painfully, one's emotions swing rapidly,
Events spiral out of control, helplessly.

Love's journey looks to be catastrophe,
Not heart's blissfulness it's meant to be,
Surrender, release your heart, be free,
Suffer not angst's misbegotten tyranny,
Surrender yourself, Love is meant to be.

...................................RDS

POETRY MUSE : SUNDAY SCRIBBLINGS "POETRY"

2009-08-29T16:33:00.003-04:00

POETRY MUSE

Before rising morning sun
A pleasant walk was begun
To my quiet, special place
Nature's beauty to embrace.

Vicissitude does not intrude
A walk in morning solitude,
Living life with beatitude,
All becomes good attitude.

Soon golden rays of sunny day
Brought company from far away
To enchant and even beguile me.
Alone in solitude was not to be.

For in a sunlit leaf I would see
Your charm and femininity,
Golden sunlit glow on pines
Is inspiring in my designs.

So on this pleasant sojourn,
You will be glad to learn,
Even though you never went
Morning together we had spent.

...............................................RDS

ALLOW ME TIME ONE SINGLE IMPRESSION #78

2009-08-26T11:13:00.004-04:00

ALLOW ME TIME

Would you take a walk with me,
A quiet, simple walk with me,
Discover quiet, simple things,
The quiet joys of life with me,
A special, quiet brook with me,
A ray of light, a leaf with me,
A morning song of bird with me,
A meadow flower and bees with me,
And especially,
A quiet in dappled sunshine with me?

........................................................RDS

EVENING AT SAPSUCKER WOODS WATERY WEDNESDAY

2009-08-12T08:45:00.005-04:00

EARLY EVENING AT SAPSUCKER WOODS

Early August usually means that the streams around here are running fairly quiet, but excess rain has given them a rage.

Quiet summer thoughts seem out of place standing near a maddening stream, but a calm pond filled to the brink, on a pleasant summer evening, a perfect, soul reflecting spot.

August sun slants the horizon more each day as the days shorten, the march towards the solstice quickens.

The deep-blue reflected sky on the pond is deceiving, from a different angle the pond is brown from the heavy rains. With camera in hand perspective is everything, poetic photography!!

Quiet along the pond a few details.

The late sun gives sustenance to a small beech struggling on the shady forest floor for its moment in the sun.

Along the waters edge wild bergamot blooms, less showy than it's cousin beebalm's brilliant red but I like it's fragrant foliage better.

And what would summer be without the ubiquitous Queen Anne's Lace. This flower head caught my eye by facing sideways, not flat, and catching the back-lit sky, it's fabled tiny purple bloom so clear in the center.

The final photo is just my back yard, where I like to dance in the morning dew!
.........................................................RDS

SAUNTERING TREMAN LAKE NATURE NOTES

2009-08-11T09:20:00.008-04:00

Picnicing and Sauntering Upper Buttermilk Falls

Buttermilk Falls State Park in Ithaca, NY is probably the most crowed of the local parks because it is at the city's edge. Yet the Upper Buttermilk section is almost always quite, a great picnic and sauntering spot.

This small waterfalls and stream is actually the outlet of Treman Lake, a man-made lake formed by damming one side of a pinnacle of land that was the original stream bed.

It's always amazing that in a fast moving stream back eddies are formed that seem to catch and hold so much floating debris. The story of the stream can often be read in this floating mosaic.

The Treman Lake dam is deceptively high. The lake laps at the top and must be nearly 40ft. deep. No hand- railings on the water side, vertigo on the other! The old gorge and pinnacle makes a perfect dam site.

In the Finger Lakes gorges it must be said there is never a shortage of stairs. Built mainly in the Depresion era they have taken on a natural patina and even seem part of the geology now.

Sauntering around the lake, half the time was cloudy, then late in the day the sun broke out, then with a sunny backside, the reflections and gorge walls became painted with color.

And then its time to go home! RDS

DREAMS ONE SINGLE IMPRESSION

2009-08-09T10:25:00.003-04:00

DREAMS

Stormy waves of passion,
Released by ocean's fury,
Exists only as a dream,
In morning's gentle calm.

Dreams, inner soul's reality,
Heart's truth so contained,
Reveal desire long restrained
In the morning's gentle calm.

Gentle sea, shore waves silent lapping,
Quiet moment, humbled in solitude,
Inner soul's reality certain to intrude,
Humbled by the endless calm.

.............................................RDS

A NEW BIRTH --- SUNDAY SCRIBBLINGS

2009-08-08T21:41:00.004-04:00

A NEW BIRTH

All character is etched,
Upon our very being
By life's beginning,
When we started seeing,
Seeing truth of ourselves,
Seeing truth of all others,
When first light of ourselves
Begins to glow awareness of whom we are.

Retreat we cannot, for who is there
Who starts not blank.
Develops into what?
We grow from our earth,
Though unknown in worth
Until too late in life.
When what we are is
Whom we seem to be.

What seems but destiny,
Doesn't have to be.
Take charge,
Become the one whom you want to be.
Pain is not all that life is meant to be.

Reject, reject, reject early reality
Then accept only as allegory.
For the story that you write
Is the right story meant to be.

Attack, attack, attack the past
Until it has no sway,
For then and only then will home
Be home, not just a place too far away
From which your life to stray.

Release its painful hold,
That painful past to which you have surrendered,
For until released by you, life will be rendered
Sad, not joyous, potentially forever lost,
Love never tendered,
Life's beginning love may never be remembered.

Free, free, free yourself
To love yourself unfettered,
To love yourself for the truth
That to yourself you are!!

............................................RDS

TREES ON STILTS

2009-07-28T20:25:00.009-04:00

TREES ON STILTS

At Sapsucker Woods there seems to be quite a few trees that look like they are growing on stilts.
In reality they are trees whose seeds sprouted on punky stumps or fallen boles of long dead trees. The moist punky wood provides an ideal seed germination site.

Also I think that existing living trees, especially the prolific beech trees at Sapsucker Woods, inhibit seed germination in the soil by new tree seedlings. There are very few seedling trees in the large beech tree areas unless they are on "stilts" .

One unique individual looks like a tree but in reality is a platyphant. This is unique to Sapsucker Woods. It is a cross between a platypus and an elephant, a platyphant.
It is very secretive and not much is known about it. I think it lays eggs under tufts of sedge, then quickly runs away so as not to be seen. As protection at egg laying time it covers itself with mosses and looks like mossy logs. This is very effective. As far as I know these are the only known pictures of a platyphant at egg laying time.

.........................................RDS

SUMMER VISIT TO LIME HOLLOW

2009-07-26T13:56:00.005-04:00

SUMMER VISIT TO LIME HOLLOW

LIME HOLLOW CENTERFOR ENVIRONMENT & CULTURE is located in Cortland County, NY.

A new visitor center is located off the McLean Rd near Cortlandville and is quite informative.

The area is second growth woodland, with some mature fields and ponds. A large spring in the woods feeds ponds and a brook which is used as a source of water for a fish hatchery.

One of the ponds near the hatchery is where the two water photos were taken.

This gray bark birch root is neat because the tree seedling sprouted on a punky stump many years ago. At the very top you can see where the original trunk was, a black line is visible. The lower section is actually roots that have "barked" with exposure to air as the old, punky stump rotted away.

Summertime is algae time even in a relatively "clean" pond. Nutrients from the surrounding woods still leach out to support the algae. Between the large algae mats the water is crystal clear.

Along this part of pond's edge a few aquatic insects are seen, but not many, and very few tadpoles. There are some small blue-colored damselflies flying here. Near the "swampy" part of the pond there are more insects.

Calm water is always so visually interesting, great for photos!

The vegetation above water, below water and reflected in water all have differing colors.

The water's surface tension gives great shadow effects on the pond's bottom. The multi-dimensional look is mesmerizing.

Visit Lime Hollow, it's always fun!! RDS

EARLY SPRING AT SAPSUCKER

2009-07-20T20:47:00.006-04:00

EARLY SPRING AT SAPSUCKER

In the early spring before real growth happens the woods are fairly open and few signs of green appear

Early creatures inhabit the shallow waters of the woodland ponds. I think this beast is a dragonfly larva, but I'm not sure. He sure is strange looking.

Reflections in the open ponds are quite dramatic and clear because plant and algae growth is minimal. Later in the summer duck weed, algae, cattails, waterlilies all intrude into the picture.

The new Stone Egg Sculpture at Sapsucker Woods is interesting. Luckily it is along a trail leading to the parking lot and doesn't intrude on the ambience of the bird sanctuary.

RDS

BLUE RAIN, CLEARING STORM ONE SINGLE IMPRESSION

2009-06-30T08:42:00.006-04:00

BLUE RAIN, CLEARING STORM

The day dawned cloudy cool,
Broken promises seemed to rule,
Drizzle rain made one more blue,
Taking heart of strong-willed too.

The in sudden fury, the storm broke loose,
Lightning flashes vertical shaft
Thunder crashes valley deep
Passion furies from sultry heat.
Wave after wave rain’s pounding beat,
Rolling wave after rolling wave
Rocks day’s soul with passion sweet.
Every lightning’s pulsing shaft
Excites storm to new release.
Tension builds, lightning strikes,
Thunder crashes valley deep.
Torrents come from on high
Wave after wave releasing wet,
Moisture giving her life to earth.

Lightning’s flash vertical shaft
Thunders crash valley deep
Wind and wet take breath away
And yet the best is to come.
Building slowly in the west
Heart beats faster and excites
As storm’s fury reignites
Pounding, pounding waves of wet.

Then as suddenly as it can
Tension relieved, quick as began
Wind’s breath subsides,
Calm’s norm presides.

Storm’s passion satisfied, day is sent
With golden sun the clouds are rent
With sunny afterglow evening went
Into nighttime’s dream well spent.

Life and love no longer blue.
........................................RDS

ABSURD MY SOUL SUNDAY SCRIBBLINGS

2009-06-14T09:16:00.004-04:00

ABSURD MY SOUL

Enter bravely if you dare
But with certainty beware
Even I’m totally not aware
The cauldron boiling there.

Evil and scary even I admit
Whenever I venture into that pit,
Where whatever is so brazen writ
The light of day should not permit.

Beauty will hold no sway,
Will never evil keep away,
Charm may beguile and delay,
Truth sought will rule the day.

So welcome you are, venture in,
Partake the glory if you find within,
For the darkness may yield only sin,
Or maybe, brightness rewards will win.

................................................RDS

LIFE'S INTERSECTIONS ONE SINGLE IMPRESSION

2009-06-07T10:19:00.004-04:00

LIFE’S INTERSECTIONS

The vast majority of humanity
Seek to destroy with inanity
Much quicker than profanity.
Let them curse, I shall ignore.

Never was the world in step
With this strange beast called me.
If you don't get along, no sense
One trying to join, you see.

I've tried to run the silly race,
To oblivion. A race to disgrace
Where free thought is condemned.
Now, myself I only want to face.

Be smart and keep to my own pace,
I need to find that special place
To reach beyond the shallow role,
Where I can cleanse my very soul.

....................................RDS

SKUNK CABBAGE - TODAY'S FLOWERS & WATERY WEDNESDAY

2009-05-13T08:41:00.008-04:00

SKUNK CABBAGE
Symplocarpus foetidus

DENIZEN OF THE SWAMP

Seeks still water more than flowing,

Even damp spring woods will suffice!

Bizarre and quite unreal, gotta love it!

Before the frost has left the ground, skunk cabbage melts through ice and snow to get a heads-up, literally. The flower bud has elevated its temperature with respiration, 15-35 degrees C above ambient temperature. Even while blooming the hood allows heat to build up and “ripen” the skunky stink. Heated stink is more attractive, if that’s what turns you on!!

If you stick your finger in the hood it does feel warm. And if your nose is in this close the smell is definitely not sweet!

It’s fascinating wondering how such survival methods ever develop.
The struggle for early, scarce spring pollinators is daunting, but with the right “bait”, rewarding.

As the leaves emerge after flowering, I always marvel at the contrast of the coarse, huge leaves of skunk cabbage and the delicate finery of fernery. Being neighbors really enhances that contrast!

As a fan of ferns and not of stink, my heart leans to finery, but in my head skunk cabbage has a spot.
.......................................RDS

OSI: WHAT'S IT LIKE?

2009-05-10T06:59:00.004-04:00

What’s it like?

What’s it like when lost
In conscious thought
And reality’s surreal?
When what is real
And what is thought dissolve,
Uniting to form anew,
Tempered by truth and experience.

What’s it like on restless nights,
When slumber does not quiet,
And mind races on and on
To places quite unknown?
Unknown places seem so known
when night thoughts,
Drifting thoughts, invade the day.

Let the subconscious rise
To guide the pathless way.
Wandering the wilderness
Is the saunterer’s stray.

Nothing’s left to say!

…………………..RDS

NATURE NOTES: ROOTS

2009-05-09T18:09:00.007-04:00

ROOTS

In the ageless drama
Where life meets earth,
Gripping great strength
From that so fragile,
Brief moment in the sun,
Living defies the vastness,
The vastness of eternity.

Where tree and earth unite,
The struggle of life is seen.
Roots cleave, mine solid rock,
No apparent rhyme or reason,
Except to live,
Cling and claw at life,
And fight against the ages.

Soft and fragile, temporary and new,
Leaves harden to root and trunk sinew,
Course of season stolen from eternity,
Moot testimony, giving life its due.
...................................................RDS

This posting is dedicated to the memory of
Mary Lou Keifer
“roots show such strength of character”
as did she!

WATERY WEDNESDAY- MARSHMARIGOLD

2009-05-07T18:48:00.005-04:00

MARSHMARIGOLD

Caltha palustra

Out of black ooze,
In slowly moving melt,
Brightest lush green,
Encouraged by golden sun,
Eases from the earth.

Mounding watery leaves,
Amid the brown remains
Of growing season past,
Arise above reflected sky,
Gathering flowering sun.

Every yellow bloom
Glows against the dark,
Glows with gathered sun,
Uniting spring with one.
..........................................RDS

TODAY'S FLOWERS-- APRIL HEAT

2009-05-07T08:18:00.008-04:00

SPRING EPHEMERALS

WOODLAND VIOLET

RED TRILLIUM

HEPATICA

SPRING BEAUTY

BLOODROOT

ADDER'S TONGUE

Oppressive is the April heat, spring stealing days of bloom, soon the leafy canopy will close as spring woods hasten towards the summer shade.

Brief is the refrain of spring’s ephemerals, heat shortened even more. The glory of spring quickly passes; savoring the moment in in summer oppressive heat is not to be.

.
.

Life mysteries are best
In proper perspective kept,
Only gradually revealed
Should such Truths yield.

Long winter wait is hardly worth the effort. Optimism tries to win the day, but time is of the essence. Blink and spring is in retreat, to hide from summer heat. Richness of color, largeness of bloom, all shrivel in dry April, shrink in April heat. We are all adapted to long term averages, be we plants or not, to really reach our peak.

Each weather shortened spring seems stolen from our lot, never gotten back and too quietly is forgot. Memories and fondness harken back to springs that seem to last forever, with time to relish changes life begets with winter’s mantle tossed. But summer with no spring is winter with no fall. Neither quite as bearable, transition much too short, for it is the changing that spring and fall does best.

Endless summer, endless winter, boredom soon prevails, give me change in spring or fall, with time enough to savor, that does seem best. Enlivens life to reach a peak, Frees thoughts stifled by the Bore.

The summer-like dust smothers fragrance so much alive in April’s good, rich, damp earth. RDS

WRITTEN AFTER 90F. HEAT!! The last week in April.

One Single Impression #60 One Word

2009-04-19T09:17:00.002-04:00

To Listen, a Friend

To focus concentration
One needs to dialogue
With but one To Listen.

To Speak one word
Without To Listen is
But noise,
Dissonance not resonance.

Thought is not wasted
Within vast emptiness
With but one, one To Listen.

An audience is one,
The necessity of one,
With but one, one To Listen.

Into nothingness ideas float,
Without an audience of one,
One To Listen, a friend.

OSI # 59 LIVE WATER

2009-04-12T12:00:00.004-04:00

LIVE WATER

Coursing through spring veins,
Being red or even not,
Live water, Life streams.

...............................RDS

Spring runoff, greening open fields and newly budding trees, life seldom is any better!

Thoughts along a camera-less brook.

A fine spring day near a sparkling surfaced brook, the sun is high and bright, blue sky is deep, crystalline, and multiple in the liquid brook below.
A small brown bud coat shed by a neighboring tree glides over this page every so often, another major event in the sequence of spring.
A flowing brook is an ever-changing sparkle, a study in contrasts, the rough and tumble commotion at stream’s center is surrounded by back eddies of solitude. The many faceted jeweled surface sparkling in reflected sunlight and the haloed darkness of shadows on rocky bed near the shore. Each rock and pebble, every reflected hill and hollow appears on its surface. Each point transforms the streambed’s shape to light.
A fine spring day means life, and life can be smelled in the air; it enters every pore. Awaken and observe, it is but a fleeting moment, an emotional state of mind, a culmination of a sequence of events. You have to be right for spring, it is but momentary, that special joining of the sun, water, air and you. RDS

WATERY WEDNESDAY # 30 HAVANA GLEN

2009-04-07T21:24:00.008-04:00

HAVANA GLENN PARK NEAR MOHTOUR FALLS,NY

At Havana Glen Park, McClure Creek heading for Catherine Creek the main inlet to Seneca Lake, is squeezed by towering cliffs into a narrow channel.

Near the falls, called Eagle Cliff Falls, the headlong rush of the creek calms as the falls-carved amphitheater opens more creek bed. The falls is positioned in a beautiful setting, clearly marking the passage of time.

After summer thunderstorms the creeks in central New York rise quickly, before slowly retreating a few days later. Water clarity usually returns rapidly since the stream beds are rock solid.

The trail, after entering the woods from an open picnic area, virtually overhangs the creek.

The roar of McClure Creek, thunderstorm swollen, echoes off cliff walls. Rushing, tumbling, agitated, the water hypnotically draws you towards it. The effect is intriguing.

OSI: LISTENING & REFLECTIONS AT SAPSUCKER WOODS

2009-04-05T16:25:00.008-04:00

LISTENING

Out of stillness, listening
A distant voice is heard.
Darkness flees tear-felt eyes
With every heart-felt word.

Noiseless, dark clouds flee
Stillness of silent listening,
Pursuing others relentlessly,
Deaf to distant voices heard.

Out of stillness, listening
For distant voices heard
Silent seclusion steals away.
Its vision proved absurd.
.......................................RDS
.
.
.
　
REFLECTIONS AT SAPSUCKER WOODS.
.

The absolute stillness of the water contrasting with the clouds moving quickly overhead gave one pause, a reason to stop along the trail. The mood of the woodland pond changed as the clouds passed by the sun, sometimes somber, other times cheery. .
.
Looking down to see the sun and sky,
Looking down to glimpse the tree tops,
The wonders of a woodland pond.
.............................................RDS

Watery Wednesday: Sauntering Chimney Bluffs

2009-04-02T19:28:00.009-04:00

CHIMNEY BLUFFS STATE PARK WOLCOTT NY NEAR SODUS BAY ALONG LAKE ONTARIO

The park showplaces an eroded drumlin in central New York. Drumlins were formed by the great glaciers from about twelve thousand years ago. According to geologists there are about 10,000 drumlins near Lake Ontario. As far as I know there is only one Drumlins golf course!

Drumlins are scattered throughout the area and appear to be smallish, elongated hills.

These spires and chimneys can be as high as 150 ft. Walking at their base along the lake shore is humbling. The erosion of the drumlin is quicker than plants can grow to stablize the slopes.

Old tree trunks, cobblestones and clay actually make an interesting mosaic.

From the shore to the top is a long way, all stairs, too many stairs. But the view from the top is worth the sweat, as the two pictures at the start show. The kayaker gives some perspective of the height.

The rate of erosion is seen by some perched garden plantings! The trail along the edge was missing occasionally, eroded away.
.

The trail back was through pleasant woods made unpleasant by heavy rain from a quick summer shower that lasted until the parking lot. At least it diluted some stair-sweat from the shore to ridge hike.

SUNDAY SCRIBBLINGS: AGING

2009-03-29T11:50:00.008-04:00

AGING

Circles of the earth and moon
Seems movement not at all.
But the movement of modernity
At times seems nothing but a blur.

Seeing change at nature’s pace
Seems quick enough for me.
But the movement of modernity
At times seems nothing but a blur.

……………………………..RDS

Thoughtless Thoughts:

With effortless ease thoughtless thoughts drift in and out,

A life’s worth of life floats through the course of a day,

Distant youth wistfully beckons,

Yesterday’s nothings carelessly occupy more space than worth,

Tomorrow’s sorrow and tomorrow’s joy is yet to be.

Another day, another series of thoughtless thoughts

Effortlessly eases one through the day.

Returning to old attitudes, seeing with old eyes,

How fresh the world seems after a long absence.

Details eat up a life and details are the very fabric of life,

So pick and choose your details wisely.

Live long enough to outlive your mistakes.

ONE SINGLE IMPRESSION #56 EQUALS

2009-03-23T17:39:00.010-04:00

SETTING SUNLIGHT

SETTING SUN LIGHT GLOWING ON THE SEED ARM OF A GOLDEN ROD
WITH A STRAY MILKWEED SEED CAUGHT WHILE DRIFTING BY. DIAGONAL RAYS ARE FROM LENS "NOISE" FROM THE SUN RAYS TRAVELING THROUGH. RDS

"EQUALS"

VERNAL EQUINOX

Winter past is present still
When day first equals night.
Long trapped in winter’s chill,
Springs earth with growing light.

Spring time, no thoughts stray
To fall harvest, September distant,
Roles exchanged, night outraces day
And lazy summer remains persistent.

Life’s assertive best always occurs
When days and nights are sequels,
Each soul truth and beauty stirs,
One and eternity meld as equals.

...................................................RDS

BLUE SKY

2009-03-19T20:17:00.012-04:00

BLUE SKY

Blue sky is mystery,
Nothing’s really there,
Only a vast darkness
And blueness everywhere.

Thus stare, stare
At the blueness,
reality aware.
.............................RDS

.

Mysterious is mystery,
Magic is but trickery.
.
.
.
.

Walked in silence, not alone
Brought life along, on loan.
Loan, interest not demanded,
Given, paid, but not to own.
.
.
.

Silent screams are never heard,
Doesn’t mean they don’t disturb
But echo again, to chagrin
The agitated soul within.

Scream, at the top of your lungs,
Silently.

If others hear they will mistake
The silent screams their own,
Condemning silent screams as fake.
Silent screams best not known.
............................................RDS

WATERY WEDNESDAY # 27 TAUGHANNOCK CREEK

2009-03-18T10:13:00.010-04:00

TAUGHANNOCK CREEK

Ancient bedrock patterns,
Shallow flowing streams,
Restless summer ripples,
The patterns of reflected sun.

Sparkling golden highlights,
Darkened surface lows,
Are endlessly changing,
Yet surprisingly constant.

The dry summer, without any heavy rain storms, left the creek beds with a colorful coating of algae on normally gray rock. Together with the low sun light the creek bed had better fall color than the tree foliage.

.
.

Today I’m different than yesterday

And tomorrow more the same!

Winter hides in shady hollow,

Woodland ponds, deep or shallow,

Where ever gray ice forms,

So dense and fallow.

Spring plays on sunny slopes,

Filled with life and full of hopes.

...............................................RDS

Death in fall,

Spring reveals it all

Depresses the sign of joy.

Hope can be a false god,

Deceives to onward force

A journey without meaning.

Death in fall,

Spring starts the path

Resurrection to realize,
Death in fall is not real.

Spring will soon give lie

Of the death in fall.

...................................RDS

A terrible thing this morning, the value of the written thought was determined, not by scratchings on a paper, but by bytes and pieces on a monitor. The bright screen with darkened letters seemed more real than hardcopy, transposed by flesh and blood, imperfect lettering quickly written, can be seen, quickly byteing cannot.

This Luddite, dragged kicking and screaming, fighting tooth and nail, not giving up without a fight, is losing the battle with modernity. I never seem to plan ahead, so I run out of spa

ce at the end.

P.S. Even yellow lettering on a blue screen has become too real. ... RDS

OSI: FAREWELLS

2009-03-15T07:58:00.002-04:00

GREETINGS SPRING

Sun is warming, water is flowing,
Birds are singing, kine are lowing,
Buds are swelling, greenness growing,
Greetings spring, farewell snowing.

The list seems endless, as do farewells,
Farewells to winter and snow’s repeat.
Often spring encore is followed by more,
More farewells to winter and snow’s repeat.

As tempo quickens and life gets sweet,
Spring’s advances outreach retreat.
Relentless progress ensures defeat.
Farewell to winter and snow’s repeat.

.................................................RDS

AN OLD STOMPING GROUND

2009-03-14T08:34:00.015-04:00

SAUNTERING AN OLD STOMPING GROUND.

RETURN

Living on the edge pursuing
The truths of life worth doing
Endless way into the distance,
Well-trodden sauntering path,
Leading to a known unknown.

Have been here before,
Have never seen here now.
We two have changed,
Myself the more.

Today I’m different than yesterday,
While tomorrow more the same.

I wish to see with experience
What I saw so clearly without.

...................REMINDERS OF FALL, POTENTIAL FOR SPRING.

...........WITCHHAZEL-- IMMATURE SEED PODS

HAIR CAP MOSSES ENJOYING LAST AND FIRST RAYS OF SUNSHINE FOR THE DAY.

LAST RAYS OF SUN WHILE WALKING HOME.

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BUDS OF SOME NUT TREES

BLACK WALNUT

JUGLANS NIGRA

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SHAGBARK HICKORY

CARYA LANCINIOSA

BUTTERNUT

JUGLANS CINEREA

MARCH SPRING

2009-03-12T11:32:00.014-04:00

EARLY MARCH SPRING

Today, light snow, deep freeze.
If November’s first snow
It would be pretty,
But it belongs to March,
That’s such a pity.
.

In early spring the winter retreats and then returns. A melting flow nightly freezes, spring locked again in winter’s clutch. Soon returning sun warmth re-releases, reviving hope of season’s promise.
.
Not yet fully rushing, the early spring still retains fall reminders, sere and crinkly leaves, pale stalks devoid of life and cattails hiding muskrat lodges.
.
Green, a very scarce commodity in the earliest of spring, is treasured. Each location duly noted, a reason to stop, think and even listen as spring surrounds.

MUSKRAT LODGE IN CATTAILS
WHITE PINE SPRIG WITH PRINCESS PINE.....RDS
PHOTOS at SAPSUCKER WOODS CORNELL LAB of ORNITHOLOGY

WATERY WEDNESDAY #26

2009-03-10T21:58:00.007-04:00

SPRING TIME RILLS AND RIFFLES

The quickening pace of spring melt busies every rill and riffle. Long locked in winter’s vice, rushing snow melt foretells the headlong rush to spring. Snow melt, courses through the spring’s veins, nourishing the life forces newly awakening in the warming, lengthening days. RDS

SWIMMING HOLE FALLS
ENFIELD CREEK
ROBERT TREMAN STATE PARK

The crowds are gone,
The stream flows free,
As late afternoon glow
Colors buttermilk algae.

The long dry summer
Reveals aged rock seams,
As another season was
Etched into the rocks.
................................RDS

CAMERA CRITTERS #48

2009-03-09T17:47:00.006-04:00

MOSQUITO AND BUTTERFLY

MEETING ON QUEEN ANNE'S LACE

WITH THE SETTING SUN

EARLY OCTOBER A FEW YEARS BACK
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A WHITE MOTH OR BUTTERFLY
TAKEN WITH A FLASH AT NIGHT

BRAINIAC CATTERPILLAR???

WHILE TAKING THE PICTURE HE ATE MOST OF THE LEAF SECTION THAT IS MISSING, FROM HEAD TO POINTY BUTT.

TODAY'S FLOWERS #30

2009-03-09T17:32:00.011-04:00

...............................................MONKEY FLOWER
...............................................MIMULUS RINGENS

.............PRIMROSE PACIFIC GIANT HYBRID

CLIMBING RED ROSE HYBRID

...................................................MAGNOLIA X BETTY

OSI: FORK IN THE ROAD

2009-03-08T12:10:00.007-04:00

FORK IN THE ROAD

Sauntering alone one fall day,
Came upon a spoon in a brook,
Although I had the time, No way
It was a stream to go afishing in.

Weathered stones, weathered spoon,
Much time together had been spent,
Some much alike they’ve come to be,
To separate would violate. So I went.
And I left them.

Sauntering home that fall day,
Came to a fork in the road,
It was new, so I took it, and that,

That never made any difference.

............................................RDS

MARCH, WINTER RETREAT AND WORDS

2009-03-05T19:53:00.010-05:00

Mourning Cloak Butterfly resting on milkweed

Nymphalis antiopa
.
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Butterflies with sooty wings
. ........Fledgling Poet

To whom it may concern,
That at a place far away
On this distant date, March 1, 1972

“The day dawned with a slight haze which gave the eastern horizon a fresh, rosy veil to clothe the awakening sun.”

I saw and confirm hereby,
That at a place nearby
And most recent,

IT DIDN’T!! RDS

Warmed by March sun, a tinge of spring arrives.

On non-storm winter days
When cold penetrates the body,
A silence penetrates the soul.
Painful is the lonely silence,
Seems no life is found.
The soul exposed is naked
As trees devoid of leaves.

Soon melt replaces silence.

The loosening winter grip frees
Thoughts as well as streams.
The winter melt is transient,
Come and go, give and take.
A front goes by, winter appears,
Approaching lows westward pass
And spring magically appears.
...........................................RDS

.......WORDS

Words
Said often enough
They soon give up their meaning
Words
Said often enough
They soon become no meaning
Words
Said often enough
they are just noise and scratchings
Wandering inside the brain
Lost, confused
Devoid of sense,
Between noise and knowing.

Words anger or console,
Connect sense to idea.
Imperfect means to spread the word
Masking as reality.
Even in disconnected words,
Beauty can be found.

What is sense? What is idea?
......................................RDS

CAMERA CRITTERS#47 & WATERY WEDNESDAY #25

2009-03-02T17:25:00.014-05:00

LEOPARD FROG

Rana pipiens

BLUE DARNER
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Waterfalls

I Remember Wondering,
While Standing at the Brink,
On the Edge of a High Cliff,
What if the Placid Water
Slowly Gathering Speed
Could Ever Realize the Wild,
Yet Unavoidable Journey,
It is About to Undertake.
Life is Like That as a Kid,
Lots of Wondering.
............................................RDS

.......WINTER WATER COLORS

Not pulsing green of life
That strange green color
Permeating stream water
Charting its ice free course.

A green born from the cold
Not begot by warming sun,
A green that chills not cheers
A winter weary soul.
...................................RDS

With the chill the blood rushes from the extremities to preserve the body at the expense of the brain!!

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FORMING HABITS

After repeatedly repeating a task,
Shifting brain gears to automatic,
Freeing rational brain portions
To achieve a goal hard sought
By repeatedly repeating the task,
The extension of the brain
To the body to the task
Magnifies the effect of the affect desired.

Thus is born a comfortable habit!

Learning is a wonderfully painful process.
.............................................RDS

CLIFFS

Etched on crumbling cliffs,
Wondrous tales do unfold,
So clearly in these layers,
A fresh spring story is retold.

Etched on crumbling cliffs,
Each spring unlocks pages,
Reveled stories of long ago,
The wisdom from the ages.

Reduced to no significance,
Within this towering pastness,
Not etched on crumbling cliffs,
Our time in this great vastness.
............................................RDS

ONE SINGLE IMPRESSION #53 CIRCLES

2009-02-28T08:33:00.015-05:00

................................................CIRCLES

Continued circles of earth to sun
Decrease our allotment one by one.

Circles within circles valid no more,
The present is now, past is but lore.
Circles within circles even still last,
As new life grows, covering the past.

Look to the past to show the way,
Only as a guide it’s valid to say,
For future circles, as yet unknown,
Perfect will be always never alone.
..........................................RDS

Too perfect is the circle,
Round and round eternally.

Today it is so perfect,
Ditto all the yesterdays,
Tomorrow more the same.

Nothing to mark the time,
To show the wear and tear,
And character that that gives.
For this and many reasons
The being’s all a sham.

Perfect beings, circles,
Perfection one can fear,
Perfect every boring way.
.

I’d rather be a gear!!

...........................RDS.

.......WIND

Yesterday the wind
With snaps and howls,
Whipped thoughts
Right from my dread-filled head.
Reality flew away,
Leaving fear to stay.

Until the devil moves along,
Defiance is in vain,
Either stand, be brave
or cower half-insane.

Today the quiet has returned,
Free flowing thoughts are norm.
Survival has survived.

...............RDS

WATERY WEDNESDAY #24

2009-02-25T08:54:00.005-05:00

SUMMER DEWDROPS

Dew drops glisten on a spider's cobweb in late morning August sunshine.

Seems along way off in February
.
.
.

AFTER THE STORM

After wild storm thunder,
Dark, dreary rain clouds,
Relieved of their weight,
Lighten, float over the ridge.

Now dusk, sunlight breaks out,
Hill shadows descend to the lake,
Raindrops, looking like dewdrops,
Sparkle and dance with the sun.

And I go home.
.........................................RDS

Rain drops on canvas boat cover
At Treman Marina
Cayuga Lake , Ithaca, NY

ONE SINGLE IMPRESSION--TWILIGHT

2009-02-22T11:51:00.007-05:00

SEASONAL TWILIGHT

FIERY OCTOBER SUNSETS

While The Harvest of Summer
Alights upon the Breezes of Fall,
Fiery October Sunsets
Mark Summer’s End.

While Spreading Nature’s Bounty
On Delicate Gossamer Threads,
Fall Breezes Down Leaves
Forming Seedbeds for Spring.

The End Is Really the Beginning.

..............................................RDS

TREES & WATERY WEDNESDAY #23

2009-02-18T09:23:00.011-05:00

IDLE THOUGHTS LOOKING AT TREES.

Branches are stretching out into the sky searching; leaves are hanging in air, grasping for an elusive something, light. Roots are tunneling blindly through the soil, mining chemicals in minute deposits, patiently searching for life-giving water. They are growing so they need ever more of these scarce resources, struggling, clinging to life, only to be knocked down by snow, wind, ice, lightning, disease, any one of innumerable agents.
Why struggle? Why life? What good is it? The tree must know for it continues the struggle unabated. You and I seemingly must know for we also continue our struggle!
The earth endlessly circling the sun is interesting physics, but the tree growing from virtually nothing to tremendous size, is life, overwhelming purposeful without a seeming purpose, the life spirit, the endless fight to temporarily reverse entropy.
The tree builds order out of chaos, organizes minerals, water, air, light into a structured whole, if only temporarily. The human body also builds order out of chaos, organizes minerals, water, air, light if only temporarily. In addition the human mind also builds order out of chaos, organizes forces and thoughts into a structured whole, a culture, if only temporarily.
The principle is the same, reverse entropy; only the degree of complexity is different. The common factor is life; the difference, again, is only a matter of complexity. Maybe the degree of complexity arises through mobility. If a tree could walk, could it eventually develope a culture?

Honor all temporary, entropy reversing entities.

---------------WATERY WEDNESDAY #23

The setting October sun glowing through condensation on a plant room window

REFLECTIONS&SAUNTERING BLACK CREEK CHILI,NY

2009-02-12T10:30:00.005-05:00

REFLECTIONS

Reflections are but half-truths,
Where reality seems surreal,
Where reality ebbs and flows.

Reflections are but half-truths,
Not perfectly reflected back,
But faithfully enough to be
Recognized as half-reality.

Projecting on one unseen
Reflections of ourselves,
Reveals more to one’s self
Than bruising self reality.

Sauntering to Black Creek and back,
In Chili, NY many years ago
On a glorious winter afternoon.

The low winter sun shines golden, almost warmly, on the chill arctic landscape. The short thaw of a few days ago caused a curious phenomenon on the creek. During the recent thaw, the flooding meltwaters had overflowed the stream bed, leaving a white ribbon of snow, suspended between two sections of frozen brown slush not yet snow covered, thus mapping the summer stream banks.

The graceful curves of the white ribbon wandered between tree boles rising from the discolored slush. The slanting rays of the winter-weakened afternoon sun warmed to a golden-brown the tree boles that stood ankle deep in frigid melt water. The infinite blue depth of the north sky provides the perfect backdrop for the snow bound herbs. Even the gray seed-heads of the goldenrod catch the yellow light to offer a faint reminder of the long ago summer sun.

As the sun descends, a few wisps of white clouds arise, dotting the blue sky. Soon a thin grey veil is drawn; shadows lose their blue blush and become less distinct. The sun’s warmth, though slight, quickly disappears. The bronzed boles become cold and grey, the glory of the sunset will not be. The distant horizon shortens up as the grey of the clouds blends with the newly greyed snow.

A cold shudder runs through me as I begin the trek home. My morning footsteps extend ahead of me forever; the grey of the clouds blends with the newly greyed snow, earth and sky seem one, as I go home.
..............................................................................RDS

…in the midst of a crowd keep with perfect sweetness the independence of solitude.”
..............................................................................................Ralph Waldo Emerson

WATERY WEDNESDAY,CHITTENANGO FALLS & more

2009-02-11T19:12:00.014-05:00

WATERY WEDNESDAY

FLUTED ICICLES

IRONDEQUOIT CREEK

FISHERS, NY

CHITTENANGO FALLS

Drawn into its spell.

A wild patch of roiled water
Awe filled in its power,
Frightening in its anger,
Mesmerizes in its ability
To awe, to frighten, to endanger!

Raging water carry me along
For the ride, the thrill, the danger,
But don’t carry me over the edge
The drop’s to steep, the fall to long.
...........................................................RDS

Barging into the brain raw thought,
Raw energy needing to be tamed.
Tamed by time, civilized to usefulness,
Raw thought matures into idea,
Acceptable, but tame.

Spend more time with raw thought.
.........................................................RDS

Absorbed in self,
The non-self is ignored.
Since much greater is the non-self
Why waste yourself upon the self.
The reason is quite clear,
Without the self,
The non-self disappears,
And thus more easily ignored.

Without non-sense the world is really boring,
Even with no sense at times it can be tedious.
...................................................RDS

Lofty boles in winter woods,
Dwarf into nearly nothingness
A sauntering soul in search.

......................................RDS

The rising sun light loosens,
As winter’s grip is weakened,
A steady drop of drips,
The only sound that’s heard.
As clouds move in,
The sun moved out,
The morning melt
That dripped of spring,
Changed back to winter.

A sad chill is felt.
.....................................RDS

ONE SINGLE IMPRESSION 2/15/09 SPECTRAL

2009-02-08T16:57:00.021-05:00

SPECTRAL VISIONS

Out of the frigid night
When demon’s haunt….

Escape! Escape! Escape!
It’s not an option though.
The worst is stuck in here
Here, in the head, the race is lost
The mind cannot out run.
Reminders ever reappear
In unexpected places
To mock good thoughts
Into oblivion.

..........................................................................................

Retreats the goodness in an instant
When demons do appear
Many a pleasant moment,
Dashed by fleeting thought
Recalls the demon’s presence
When absence cannot be bought
With fresh currency of good thought.

Away, away, away you demons that do haunt.
Banished forever from my kingdom
The kingdom of my thought,
Invited not you are
To ruin another day.

There is a part within all of us,
Needing constant taming down
For suddenly, from depths unknown
The demons rush right in.
Rising from the backwaters of the mind,
Twisting angels into nefarious beings,
Demons everywhere appear.
Common-place death, death to the demons.
Let good spirit override.

Our alter ego, evil,
Its ugly head arises
Out of completely nothing
His vision can appear
To mock the pleasant nature
That civility wants to hear.
Visions that are that vivid
Must reality based appear.

Save me from myself,
Elevate my thoughts,
Oh unseen Muse,
Betray me not in time of need
For sanity is at stake.
The tide of battle hinges now,
With room for no mistake.
So unseen Muse, return,
Return to strengthen my resolve.
An evil genie just released
Seems impossible to contain.

Why does one stray, evil vision
Over power a multitude of good?
Fearfully it seems,
One’s nature drifts towards what it is,
Not what it wants to be.
Demons of self doubt
Stifle much that is so good.
So vanish demons of self-doubt
So vanish demons of the soul.

..............................................RDS

MOVEMENT OF LIGHT

Movement through
The tangle of one’s self
Light and love distract.

The tale is much confused,
More than slightly twisted.

Each day’s light impresses,
Forever does it change,
Perceptions of affections
Of when we love and why.

The photo is the sun backlighting the filaments of the seeds of the native clematis commonly called Virgin's Bower. It flowers early summer and the seeds form in late fall.

The color is from the sunlight, the seed filaments are actually white.

ONE SINGLE IMPRESSION, WATERYWEDNESDAY updated Feb. 5

2009-02-03T19:46:00.015-05:00

Observing Crustose Lichen on Granite

Strange Bedfellows These Alga and Fungus
Joined Together to Forge an Alliance of Ancients
To Dissolve an Even More Ancient Alliance
In Order to Form a More Perfect Alliance.

SOLITUDE

In solitude, drifting in and out,
Words rarely disrupt or intrude.
But words can sneak into the mind
To steal away that solitude.

From long dusty pages of prose
To vibrant pulses of bits and bytes,
Only a few heart sourced words
Refocus a drifting soul from self
To beyonds and endings unknown.

Solitude is always never alone.
........................................RDS

In the distance, bathed in sunlight, an embankment's
fall foliage reflection is caught in the garden pool
at the Glen Iris Inn located at Letchworth State Park, NY.
The concentric rings are from a fountain in the pool.

So we saunter toward the Holy Land, till one day the sun shall shine more brightly than ever he has done, shall perchance shine into our minds and hearts, and light up our whole lives with a great awakening light, as warm and serene and golden as a bank-side in autumn.

Walking by Henry David Thoreau

WATERY WEDNESDAY

White Water, White Noise.

White water, white noise,
The focus to daydream,
Focusing on nothing
To focus on everything,
A joyful adrenaline rush.

The water rush frees,
Frees thoughts imprisoned,
By life’s daily grind.
Gives freedom to think,
Gives freedom to focus.

ONE SINGLE IMPRESSION

SLOWLY

Forcing retreat upon the darkness,
Slowly the dawn glow earlier awakens,
Slowly evening is mere afternoon,
Slowly mid-day shadows shorten,
Slowly flowing sap fills swelling buds,
Slowly the pace quickens, quickens to spring.

Although the worst of winter may yet be,
Lengthening days proclaim inevitable spring.