Going Dutch

October 11, 2009

Sunday I was the guest of Crailo State Historic Site in Renssalaer, New York.
The large brick House, which dates back to the early 1700s, contains what may be the only museum dedicated to the Dutch colonial period in the Hudson Valley. Kiliaen van Renssalaer established a settlement here in the late 1600s, across the river from what was then Fort Orange (Albany). The area was a focus of the early fur trade, and a meeting place for Native peoples and Europeans.
The museum has recently been refurbished and features state-of-the-art displays. I certainly learned a lot about a little-known time period in our local history.
My visit today was part of the Museum’s summer-long series of Sunday presentations on Dutch and Native American culture. As a historical re-enactor, I portray a Mohawk woman of the 1750s.
On display were examples of Iroquois foods

And some typical trade goods, and other items.


The House sits facing the river, and the small grassy park where I was set up for the day had a wonderful view of the river and Albany.


I met some interesting folks, including visitors from the Netherlands.

My mom wasn’t sure how to work my little camera.
Here’s the only shot she got of more than just my feet, as I am hailing the Dutch Apple tourboat as it returned upriver.

Not surprisingly, they did not stop. Guess they weren’t interested in beaver hides today.

For more info on Crailo, follow the links on this general site:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fort_Crailo

The Pond at Mid-Day

October 6, 2009

It's been over a week since a moose was spotted in the vicinity of Moreau Lake. No one that I know has actually SEEN the creature, but there were abundant signs of the presence of something just a tad larger than a white-tailed deer:

In the past week, these footprints were seen in various places, along with moose-droppings ( a.k.a. "milk duds"), and flattened areas that were like deer-beds, only larger and out in the open. (you can see photos of such things on Jackie's sublime blog www.saratogawoodswaters.blogspot.com)

People were saying they'd seen a cow and her calf. If so, it would be best to not get too close to them. There's nothing like a mother's love, and moose are known to be very protective of their young. Then again, it is October, a time when bull moose are doing cross-country jaunts in search of love. Either way, you've gotta respect a critter that weighs in at 500 to 1000 pounds!

With hopes of seeing a real live moose, Jackie and I took a walk over at Mud Pond. The moose have probably moved on, miles and miles away ... but you never know.

We walked along the easement trail which is bordered in places by head-high hazelnut shrubs. The leaves were pretty in the slanting morning sunlight.

Of course I was fearfully imagining a moose around every bend. Jackie laughs. She'd like nothing better!

All around the trail are little moss-forests.

Shrub-sized sumacs, oaks and hickories were beginning to take on their fall colors.

There are still interesting insects to be found, in these days Before the Frost.
I don't know what these are, but their wings remind me of the stoneflies I saw this spring.

I like this guy's feet.

Jackie showed me an American Bittersweet and Shining Sumac, new plants for me.

In the sandy soil, we found some days-old moose tracks. I'm a size 7.

We wandered down by the water's edge, where Dwarf St. Johnswort, Water Horehound, Frostweed and Goldenrod were abundant. We followed some beaver-trails along the shore.

The Canada geese kept up a regular quiet gabble out in the middle of the pond. Once in a while, you'd swear you heard a human word or two on the breeze, but it's only the geese talking.

There were fresh cuttings around the beaver-lodge.

At noon, the beaver were elsewhere. The moose was not to be seen.

Is the water reflecting the sky, or vice versa?

It's a nice place to sit and think, or not-think.

After a while, you stop looking-for-things,

and for a few moments, are content to become just another part of the scenery.

Leisurely Sentries

They stood in the midst of the open river,

on this shallow and reedy bar in the sun,

the leisurely sentries, lazily pluming themselves,

as if the day were too long for them.

They gave a new character to the stream.
Thoreau’s Journal, August 14, 1859

It’s easy to take herons for granted during the summer – they seem to be everywhere along the river, and in quiet backwaters.
Now that they are beginning to leave for warmer waters, you miss those casual meetings.

Soon they will be gone for the winter.

Thinking back on those I have seen this summer -

Sometimes they remind you of a snake.

Other times, a giraffe.

Or perhaps, a yoga instructor from that evening-class.

When in flight, they have the voice of a pteradactyl.

And viewed straight-on, become an alien from another planet.

They keep to themselves, mostly. It's not much to ask.

It can't be too easy catching frogs on foot.

Or eating fish without hands.

And yet, they are supremely adapted to their environment.

You have not seen our weedy river,
you do not know the significance of its weedy bars,
until you have seen the blue heron wading and pluming itself on it.
I see that it was made for these shallows, and they for it.

Now the heron is gone from the weedy shoal, the scene appears incomplete.

(HDT)

Life’s a Beach

September 16 and 17, 2009
Rockport, Massachusetts

After three magnificently sunny and warm days, the weather changed overnight.
Just before midnight, a gusty northeast wind began to blow. It was constant throughout the night – you couldn’t hear the waves at all, just the wind snapping the flag out front of the inn. Fresh cool air, straight from the ocean!

The next morning, the wind abated somewhat. The sky was full of slate-colored clouds. Mom and I took our morning walk, buttoned up proper in our windbreakers.
We walked up and down narrow streets and alleyways, admiring the man-made scenery.

First, a little snippet of Rockport history: during the War of 1812, a British warship came into the little harbor. When the townspeople began ringing the church bell as an alarm, the British commander ordered his gunners to aim at the belltower.

They missed the bell, but a cannonball still adorns the tower. A pretty good shot, eh wot?


The Old Cemetery has some very old stones with many a tale to tell


Houses in Rockport are as colorful as flowers;
the large -


- and the not-so-large


And flowers are everywhere, no matter how small the dooryard


Even the apartment buildings are colorful


As we walked to dinner, we passed another artist finding inspiration here ...


... where everything looks like a potential painting


The Ocean! Remember the first time you saw it?


For many here, it provides a hard-won livelihood.


From our table at dinnertime, we watched a woman dancing on the beach.
She was there for at least two hours, moving with slow graceful gestures.
It was as if she was calling the tide in.


Was she crazy? Was she happy? Was she giving thanks?


After our meal, there was time for one more walk that day.
Past the harbor ...


... and up to the Headlands, where small trails lead out to a wide open view.
We said our goodbyes to the ocean.

Gulls Just Wanna Have Fun

September 15 – 16, 2009
Rockport, Massachusetts

Yes, it’s not the beach without a seagull. Or lots of seagulls.
When I was a kid, my family always went to Ocean City, New Jersey. As far as I can remember, hefty Herring Gulls ruled the beach, stealing food right out of a toddler’s hand. The air was filled with raucous Laughing Gulls, wheeling about endlessly.

On this visit to Cape Ann, I saw neither one of these gulls, but then again, I was only casually looking. (Even my eyes needed a vacation!)

There were some that I might identify as Ring-billeds, like the hungry fellow above, and Black-Backeds (seen in the previous blog entry) –

Then others, in immature plumages, strikingly beautiful but maddening to identify – someone help me with these!




Early one morning I walked back to a quiet millpond near the inn. There, I caught a view of several blue herons sleeping – long grey pods seemingly without heads. It was dim lighting, so my attempts to photograph them didn’t come out well. They soon woke up and headed out to their day’s hunting.
A few feet away from them, was another shape - a new bird for me!

A black-crowned night heron, who was just settling down after being up all night.
(It’s a grainy shot, but you can see his red eye.)


Later, at the Dogbar Breakwater in Gloucester, I saw some unfamiliar large ducks out in the water. One was sitting in the rocks – she stood up to flap out her wings:


And when she settled, I zoomed in – the schnozz was the giveaway - a Common Eider:


There were cormorants fishing the seaward side of the breakwater – but they were too fast for me. If you look closely, you can see part of him under the water.


Back in Rockport’s harbor, we watched one from our restaurant table.
They are the fishiest birds I know. They seem perpetually wet and oily.


But to get back to gulls -
As I sat in a sandchair on Front Beach that last warm and sunny afternoon, it was fun to just watch one individual gull for a while. He found a little tidal pool left behind as the tide had gone out, and assiduously bathed himself, just like any sparrow in a birdbath. After a good deal of dunking and splashing, he walked over to a sunny spot and began to preen, arranging all his feathers just so.



One last fluffout, and he’s ready to hit the fashion runway.


Tyra Banks, step aside!