Ice, Thrice

January 1, 2015

Moreau Lake State Park, NY

Part One: The Brook

In this lonely glen,
with its brook draining the slopes,
its creased ice and crystals of all hues,
where the spruces and hemlocks stand up
on either side,
and the rush and sere wild oats in the rivulet itself,
our lives are more serene and worthy to contemplate.

     HDT A Winter's Walk, 1843

After getting comfy at the Warming Hut (It should be called the RE-Warming Hut), I went out again with the idea of stopping back at Zen Brook to see if it had settled down. 

Back on Christmas Day, I had gone there with Rick, who was visiting for the holiday. Usually, at this time of year, the brook slows to a trickle, and freezes most wonderfully.
This year, after the very un-usual Christmas Eve rains,
it had come to life again and was churning down the hillside in a torrent. No ice !

A week had gone by, and on this New Year’s Day, the weather had definitely turned much colder. Having the whole day at my disposal, I turned back from the Warming Hut and headed up to where the Red Oak Trail crosses Zen Brook.

I call it Zen Brook because it is a place of meditation, at any time of year. 

It's amazing how many varieties of ice there are --
what fantastic shapes and shadings have formed
out of almost nothing ! 

Thoreau mentions "chandeliers" and "organ-pipes" in his Journal,
in an attempt to describe some of the kinds of ice he observed
on the rivers and brooks. 

Later that night, I open his Journal,
and it's as if he was there beside me,
with his notebook out:

At the fall on Clematis Brook
the forms of the ice were admirable. 

The coarse spray had frozen as it fell on the rocks –
& formed shell-like crusts over them,with irregular but beautifully clear & sparkling surfaces like egg-shaped diamonds 

each being the top of a club-shaped & branched fungus icicle –

This spray had improved the least core
as the dead & slender rushes drooping over the water & formed larger icicles about them …

on similar slight hints then were built out from the shore & rocks all sorts of fantastic forms

with broader & flatter bases from which hung stalactites of ice 

and on logs in the water
were perfect ice fungi of all sizes
under which the water gurgled flat underneath
& hemispherical. 

A form like this would project over the water
six or 7 inches deep by 4 or 5 in width & a foot long held by the rocks but with a slight weed for core. 

You could take off the incrustations on the rocks – turn them up –
they were perfect shells –

      HDT Journal, January 26, 1853

Just before the brook reaches the Lake, it “disappears” underground.  In the dry pebbled bed,  there were forms even more fantastic. No obvious water formed them. The frozen breath of the Earth.

One imagines Ice Sprites, painting the night air with frost.

Happy New Year!

January 1, 2015
Moreau Lake State Park, NY

 The Big Lake is finally skimmed over at one end

What better way to start off the New Year
than to go on the First Day Hike at Moreau Lake State Park?
Parks all across the state of New York are participating in this new tradition. We were even presented with spiffy little fleece hats with the NY Parks logo on them. 
Later I found out that this was a part of a national initiative from America's State Parks, with over 400 hikes scheduled this year in all 50 states.
There was quite a turnout at Moreau Lake. Group size had to be limited, and thus some folks were actually turned away.

The day began cold but sunny. We walked all the way around the lake, mostly along the shoreline. In a year of normal water levels, this wouldn't be possible.

Andy, the new intern, officially led the hike. 
Rebecca, the Park Educator, brought Abby along too.

Abby the chilly-dog

Besides myself, there were several other members of the Friends of Moreau Lake State Park. We took the opportunity to point out some of the great things about the Park, since for some of the hikers, it was their first visit.
At the end of the circuit around the Lake, Dave awaited us in the Warming Hut, with hot mulled cider and other treats, to be enjoyed by a toasty fireplace.

Volunteers keep the Hut cozy on winter weekends

Jackie and I visited here repeatedly in December ... waiting for ice to form so that we could see the bubbles in Bubble Bay, or for a good snowfall to reveal animal tracks. But so far, it has not been a typical Adirondack winter.
Temperatures so far this season have wavered back and forth between cold and unseasonably warm, with very little snow.
Although there is cloudy grey ice on the shallow and sheltered Back Bay, the Big Lake has yet to freeze over completely.
Today there was a fresh layer of skim ice over two-thirds of the lake, and a big area of open water by the Fishin' Bridge.

The rains of Christmas melted what little snow there was on the ground, making for a dull brown landscape.

  Huge frost crystals emerge from the earth

Maybe this year,  it's because of Global Warming, 
but there was a winter like this back in Thoreau's day, too. 
He loved to skate on the river, wade through the snowy woods, and admire ice along the brooks. You can hear his disappointment in a journal entry of December 1855:

No snow;
scarcely any ice to be detected.
It is only an aggravated November.

Nevertheless, it's great to be outside with other folks who can appreciate such a fine day.
And we look forward to better days to come.

Resolution

December 31, 2014

Near Cole’s Woods

As I was driving home from work on the afternoon of New Year’s Eve,
a list of possible resolutions was going through my head.
You know, all the usual ones - 

lose weight, 

exercise more,

try new things, 

manage stress better, 

etc. etc.
It's usually a pretty big list !

Where should I even start ?
Then I saw a sign - 
one that seemed to roll them all up into one.

The one that could best change my life:

 Nothing is so much to be feared as fear. 

    HDT Journal, September 7, 1851

Aeschylus had a clear eye
   for the commonest things.
    HDT Journal, January 29, 1840

The meaning I picked,
the one that changed my life:
Overcome fear, behold wonder.
   Aeschylus (525-456 BC), Greek tragic dramatist

Comfort and Joy

December 25, 2014
Merry Christmas to one and all !

This year's Christmas carol comes from the mid-eighteenth century,with a tune first published during Thoreau's childhood. 

As with many carols, it came about as a festive alternative to the somber church songs of earlier times.

May you all be refreshed by the joys of the season!

God rest ye merry, gentlemen
Let nothing you dismay
Remember, Christ, our Saviour
Was born on Christmas day
To save us all from Satan's power
When we were gone astray
O tidings of comfort and joy,
Comfort and joy
O tidings of comfort and joy

In Bethlehem, in Israel,
This blessed Babe was born
And laid within a manger
Upon this blessed morn
The which His Mother Mary
Did nothing take in scorn
O tidings of comfort and joy,
Comfort and joy
O tidings of comfort and joy

From God our Heavenly Father
A blessed Angel came;
And unto certain Shepherds
Brought tidings of the same:
How that in Bethlehem was born
The Son of God by Name.
O tidings of comfort and joy,
Comfort and joy
O tidings of comfort and joy

"Fear not then," said the Angel,
"Let nothing you affright,
This day is born a Saviour
Of a pure Virgin bright,
To free all those who trust in Him
From Satan's power and might."
O tidings of comfort and joy,
Comfort and joy
O tidings of comfort and joy

The shepherds at those tidings
Rejoiced much in mind,
And left their flocks a-feeding
In tempest, storm and wind:
And went to Bethlehem straightway
The Son of God to find.
O tidings of comfort and joy,
Comfort and joy
O tidings of comfort and joy

And when they came to Bethlehem
Where our dear Saviour lay,
They found Him in a manger,
Where oxen feed on hay;
His Mother Mary kneeling down,
Unto the Lord did pray.
O tidings of comfort and joy,
Comfort and joy
O tidings of comfort and joy

Now to the Lord sing praises,
All you within this place,
And with true love and brotherhood
Each other now embrace;
This holy tide of Christmas
All other doth deface.
O tidings of comfort and joy,
Comfort and joy

Crickets

October 17, 2014

Water's Edge, Hudson Falls, NY

I hear a cricket in the Depot field,
walk a rod or two,
and find the note proceeds from near a rock.
   HDT Journal, August 20, 1851

No matter how busy a person may be, the world keeps turning,
and the seasons progress.
Now the days become shorter, and tinged with a vague melancholy.

In the twilight – which arrives earlier and earlier each day – one can still hear katydids out in the yard.

The crunch of leaves underfoot foretells the end of the growing season
-- the end of many things, for a while, 

such as the evening songs of the crickets. 
We cling to the sounds and smells of Summer, hesitant to let it go.

This year, we’ve been granted an extension of sorts.
With the exception of a few chilly mornings, the temperatures have stayed well above normal.
We have yet to experience a frost.

And for a little while longer, the crickets are still with us – a summer sound which, for Thoreau, was always a harbinger of autumn.

They are shy as birds, these little bodies.
Those nearest me continually cease their song
    as I walk,
so that the singers are always a rod distant,
and I cannot easily detect one.
It is difficult, moreover, to judge correctly
    whence the sound proceeds.

They are somewhat protected
    by the universalness of the sound,
each one’s song being merged
    and lost in the general concert,
as if it were the creaking of earth’s axle.

Snappy Birth-day !

September 11, 2014

Water’s Edge, Hudson Falls NY

Back in June, we watched several snapping turtles emerge from the canal
and dig nests in our backyard, here at Water’s Edge.
There was construction going on at the time, but they kept appearing in the morning, digging here and there, ignoring the clamor around them,
seemingly oblivious to the risks they took with themselves and their offspring.

After all, they’ve chosen this spot for perhaps as long as the canal has been here
(it was built in the 1820s.)
 With cautious optimism, I’ve told my curious neighbors that we might see hatchlings some time around Labor Day.

On the last day of August, I did find one little guy,
back in my old neighborhood, along Meadowbrook Road.
(I know where to look for them there.)
Of course, I helped him get to the marshy slough across the road. 

A week later, despite all my apprehensions,
the long-awaited hatchlings appeared in our yard at Water’s Edge.
It was a warm clear evening,
and as several of us sat out on the porch after sunset,
one neighbor mentioned that about an hour ago,
someone had seen "a little turtle" out there in the grass.
I jumped out of my chair and the search was on !
We found four of the little guys  --
there they were, clambering over the grass and weeds,
right out in the open.

Despite sod, concrete, large stones, a vigilant family of crows,
and other obstacles,
they had left their well-hidden nests
and headed straight toward the canal.
They were not fooled by the swimming pool, which they bypassed.
It was that murky canal water they aimed for. 

Home sweet home.

We were witness to a miracle -- to see how they had triumphed,
despite the odds being against them.

And on September 11, 1854,
Thoreau wrote in his Journal of a similar evening:

It is surprising how much cunning it already exhibits.
It is defended both by its form and color
and its instincts….

When to-day it lay within half an inch of the water’s edge,
it knew it for a friendly element and,
without deliberation or experiment,
but at last,
when it thought me and all foes unobservant of its motions,
with remarkable precipitation
it committed itself to it
as if realizing a long-cherished idea. …

It does not so much impress me as an infantile beginning of life
as an epitome of all the past of turtledom
and of the earth.

P.S. – Special “Snappy Birth-day” wishes for my friend
and fellow nature-blogger   Andrew Lane Gibson,
whose birth-day it is to-day.
May you also realize long-cherished ideas in the coming year !

Utmost

June 26, 2014
Here and There

More mid-summer thoughts ...
there is so much going on in the natural world right now,
so many different flowers blooming,
so much leafy abundance,
that it's almost overwhelming.
But then again, it's meant to be !

We now have roses on the land
and lilies on the water,
-- both land and water have done their best, --
now just after the longest day.
Nature says,
“You behold the utmost I can do.”
   HDT Journal, June 26, 1852