The temperature is rising and ice is melting and after the gritty, dirty snow finally vanishes, spring will come to the Adirondacks.
Or its alternate title, “High above shallow water.” Near an oxbow in the Grasse River, shifting land is turning the pine forest into an area of swamp.
When foot upon foot of snow stacks up outside, looking back to pictures from springtime on St. Lawrence’s campus helps to remind me that this condition is not permanent.
Thick forests carpet the hills of Utah, except where they don’t. In many of those little clearings, a human-made structure is visible. The cabin in the foreground clearing looks particularly inviting.
Given all of the natural or semi-natural textures in Muir Woods National Monument, the metal patches (held in place with nails that look like rivets on an early aircraft) in the pathway make for an odd juxtaposition.
The end of St. Lawrence’s school year means that the hikes through areas like nearby Colton’s Stone Valley will be coming to an end for many graduating seniors.
Living in this Adirondack-ish reality of the region presents opportunities to stand face-to-face with nature.
Quiet contemplation of the future is at the end of the trail.
High above the wet woods of northern Vermont in early winter, the contrast between dark coniferous trees and blanched deciduous trees makes for a mottled appearance. Down amongst that Ising Model of tree distribution, a little building or two make for odd inhomogeneities.