In a too-on-the-nose metaphor, here the Oswegatchie River joints the St. Lawrence River, with Canada looking on; this week, a new class (2024!) of Laurentians arrived to St. Lawrence University’s campus.
Bob-Ross-ian “happy little trees” may look their best in autumn, but I’m not sure they’re at their happiest while heading into dormancy.
A big view of a little building: St. Lawrence University’s Herring Cole Reading Room. Though it was once a library, it’s now the best study space on campus.
A consistent theme in my posts over the past few weeks has been “reflection,” raising the question: Am I feeling particularly introspective, or have I just been finding great views with water ?
Each pine tree in the forest stakes out its own space in the canopy, with only the tiniest channels of light between them.
In the depths of the humid dog days of summer, I already feel myself cooling off from a reminder of the crisp afternoons of fall.
The tiiiiiny pack of runners in the distance marks the scale of the forest trails on St. Lawrence University’s campus.
I often show what I think of as the front of Johnson Hall of Science, but inspection of this image (particularly the top of the brick wing on the left) shows that the building’s name, and thus its front, are on this side. The dramatic glass structures extending between and out from the wings lend credence to the idea.
St. Lawrence University’s Saddlemire Trail (just to the right of the creek) runs through the wilder parts of our campus. A sunset stroll along it (and its twin, the Kip Trail) makes for a perfect early-June evening.
When St. Lawrence University began in 1856, the whole school—classrooms and dorms and dining hall and offices—were all crammed into this one building: Richardson Hall. Since that time, a lot has changed about the school. Yesterday marked commencement for the Class of 2020 (virtually), left me thinking about the the history and future of the university.
Late spring brings some of the best sunset clouds to Saranac Lake, but the evening temperatures would never let you confuse it for summer.
On Earth Day, I really like the image of the next generation, growing up in nature under the shelter of elders.
With the evening sky reflected in the water, this island in Saranac Lake appears to float like a fuzzy green saucer.
St. Lawrence University’s Camp Canaras is a heterogeneous collection of cabins along the shore of Saranac Lake. Among them, this particular building’s stack of individually glazed windows and roofs at odd angles most reminds me of Howl’s Moving Castle.
I mentioned in Monday’s post that I find structures built over water to be oddly cozy, and this dock and boathouse on a rainy late spring evening conveys the same kind of feeling.