Back Bay, Moreau Lake State Park
In the summer, greenness is cheap,
now it is something comparatively rare,
and is the emblem of life to us.
HDT's Journal October 4, 1859
It was a sunny Sunday, and I could take a nice long walk today.
Time to check on conditions at Moreau Lake.
During the heart of winter, the ice gets to be a foot thick here.
Today – April third - it is still frozen over.
No picnicking or swimming today !
Although it was melting at the edges.
Just as in the beginning of winter, I’m irresistibly drawn
to the meeting-place of ice and water.
To watch the transition from one state of matter to another.
The ice has melted and refrozen in interesting patterns -
did Monet ever paint ice, as well as water-lilies?
Despite the beauty of the ice,
it’s also a joy to see the water moving freely again.
Turns out I’m not the only one attracted to such a place.
There were newts, which evaded the camera, as I peered into the water and cast shadows on their sunny underwater forest of dead leaves.
There were minnows, flirting with the sandy shallows.
They played peekaboo at the small holes in the ice.
While I was watching the minnows, Jackie hailed me. She had come here today too, to see if she could find the trailing arbutus.
It should be budding by now, being one of the earliest flowers of the year.
Another name for it is Mayflower.
Despite extensive snow cover still on the ground today, there were some areas near the back bay that had melted back in recent days.
So that’s where we headed, to a place where we had spotted this plant before.
The past few weeks have been a test of our not-so-abundant patience,
as winter has seemed to linger on and on.
But it seems important, somehow, to be there when things happen.
Even if it's to check on the progress of a shy and retiring plant.
We are grasping for ANYthing green.
And when you find it, it brings you to your knees in gratefulness.
It may look as if she is praying – and indeed there are many forms of prayer.
It’s a relief to know that despite the apparent lateness of certain phenomena on the calendars we keep so faithfully,
Nature is still moving along, although on her on time and schedule.