One Big Tree Monday, Sep 26 2016 

We are still wandering about in the wilds of Connecticut in an empty flood control reservoir. When they built it, they cleared out a village and, along with the village, some very, very big trees.  This was an elm, growing as elms like to do, right above the river in the flood plain.  The man is a bit over six feet tall. The tree is an easy four plus feet in diameter when measured across the top of the cut. It must have been a magnificent tree, and a lovely river bank, for both sides of the stream were lined with these elms, all the way down through the old village.


Ghost Towns Tuesday, Sep 20 2016 

Ours are a little hard to find around here….

I am looking right at a church though, honest!


Only this was built downstream for flood control:


Water’s edge Saturday, Apr 16 2016 

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Ambitious animals, those beavers! This dam, with its classic serpentine shape, ranges from two to five feet in height and is about sixty feet long.  It is actually part of a complex of ponds, there is another higher pond (different stream) just off to the right.  While chewing on several good oak trees (annoying), the beaver also seems willing to use barberry that has gotten to the inch plus in diameter size in his construction.  Or possibly as a food source.  This is rather nice of him.

I can see you! Friday, Mar 11 2016 

(There were actually two of them, both good sized cows without collars or tags)

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About the same location where we saw an untagged cow moose last fall, so possibly the same ones. Unlike deer they are not flighty at all, quite content to stand and watch us and then go about their business.

Satan’s Kingdom Friday, Dec 11 2015 

Sometime, when I have more time, I will walk this trail (I know exactly where it goes). Preferably on a relatively ‘unpleasant’ day so as to reduce the number of people making like corks in the river below.  Winter is good.  Perhaps a bit treacherous given the rocks and water.  I have never seen so much liverwort in one spot in New England: just up around the curve was a cliff where the sun never hits and a convenient spring way up at the top is a constant source of water. Impressive. Easily a hundred plus square feet and so old that it was spongy to the touch.

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Rocks, Folded.

Yellow Pot Tuesday, Aug 11 2015 

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A walk around Saturday, May 9 2015 


It would seem likely that I am making apple sauce this fall (the solid mass of white is a Wolf River apple!)


A good year for apples, this is one of the crab-apples


Looking back up at the Wolf River. Spring was in a bit of a hurry this year, usually the big Spirea hasn’t leafed out while the King Alfred Daffodils are still going, a bit of a clash of yellows there…


That crab-apple again and a window.


East lawn: Redbuds, Saucer Magnolia, Daffodils, and tulips


A quick walk Saturday, May 2 2015 

around the place, widdershins as seems typical, from a few days ago, at this time of the year things change so quickly that these are now out of date:












Learning Sunday, Apr 26 2015 

It is always useful, interesting, and otherwise educational, to go to nearby places and look at them from a different angle. Even when, especially when, you think you know them.

For example, I have crossed this bridge many times, almost daily recently, but I have never bothered to go down below it.  It is a good sized bridge (that white pine over there is a fully mature tree, no twig). Yet, we are so used to our environment, in this case a fairly narrow road deck, that we don’t stop to appreciate it nor to look at the thing as a whole. Go look, again, from a different angle, on a different day, and the world is new.


(Satan’s Kingdom, if you were wondering)


Rivers Sunday, Dec 7 2014 

My current commute, such as it is, takes me along when of Connecticut’s nicer rivers: the Farmington. Aside from bird watching for bald eagles while driving, it is always interesting to study the river itself. It is a tame, little river compared to many in North America, though it is bigger than one thinks it is.

The water level in it is largely at the mercy and whim of man; throughout the 1800’s and into the 1900’s, it repeatedly flooded with catastrophic results. Many bridges and chunks of communities went downstream due to spring ice and summer hurricanes. Flood control dams, major drinking water reservoirs, downstream power dams, and the interests of the trout industry all conspire for a constantly managed water flow.

Still in the summer, the rocky, rapid nature emerges. Snags appear and disappear, and the water has a glinting blue color. It is fast running and clear.

And then there are days like today, swollen by the night’s torrential rain on frozen ground. It almost seemed sluggish, how deceptive an appearance, and had risen above its normal high water level,so it had a curious weight: filling its banks completely. The light, even though clear, in the setting sun was that grim pewter color with the faintest tints of orange. A cold reflection. Colder, somehow, than late winter when it is black water is crowned in white ice.

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