Random thoughts and pictures

At 5:00 AM it is dark again. As the calendar hits September there is always a dramatic shift. By 8:30 pm its the same. The challenge is how to go running when it is dark and to also be motivated to get out.



The tourists have pretty much left town, though they'll be back for the long weekends. Tanglewood has wrapped up its season as have some of the theater companies, Jefferson Starship, a name from the past, was at Eastover down the street this weekend. I heard them through the trees. The new second home owner neighbors, whom we haven't yet bothered to meet, have gone back to the city. The new full time neighbors, whom we have partially met, seem totally moved in. The neighborhood is quiet although it always is.

The pellets are on order, all 4 tons, and should be arriving any day now for me to start moving them in the garage. That's alot of pellets to be hauling at least twice during the season.



Coming back from kayaking on the river this weekend I parked at the public ramp which is a short dirt road going down to the river off the main road with parking for a few cars. Some city folks had pulled in and were in their lawn chairs eating lunch and they asked me if I knew the name of this nature preserve. It doesn't have a name, I shared, its state and local land and just a boat ramp. It just happens to be along the beautiful river, be surrounded by wetlands and flowers and farm land on the other side of the river running up to the mountains. Actually pretty average, but isn't that wonderful that they are awed by our average. I am too.




The light and clouds are unusual tonight, possible rain, possible storm. I just hope its not too intense and doesn't drive itself in through the outside wall covering where the ants have done their damage.



Back to work from "vacation" and already behind and not happy about it. Vacation should be rest and that one was not.



The Google ads are gone. They say there have been "invalid clicks" and shut me down. I have read its not uncommon and happens to large companies as well little bloggers and the unfortunate thing is that they inform you in a way that implies dishonesty and take back anything that has been earned. While I like Google and am even a small shareholder they are impersonal and big and come across heavy.

My blog got rated by a critic and got an 8 out of 10. Cool, I guess and I get to add their rating button. Perhaps Zagats is next.

So that is the randomness of the day. Measuring out new off season running routes trying to imagine if I'll be able to do a 10 k next month in under an hour, avoiding convention coverage- the red gives me a headache.

The week is almost over- hurray!

The River below the floating clouds

I haven written many times about the ridge line and a couple of entries ago shared some photos of the clouds over the valley. Yesterday morning the kayak and I visited the river below. At 7AM the sun is up but the mist is still on the water It is really to beautiful and complex to capture on my basic camera but much still comes through the lenses.

The Housatonic is a meandering river, taking quite a while to cover not much distance as the bird flies. The twists and turns have it sometimes going east and west and in reverse directions and many oxbows and side pools to explore and wander. When taking it slow and checking these out the only constant landmark is the ridge. Loosing sight of it and you can easily be turned around and be heading from where you just came. With a state forest on one side and wetlands on much of the other this stretch of the river seems more remote than it really is. The presence of years of PCB pollution buildup in the sediment means that the fish are large because they are always thrown back and the water is not for swimming or drinking. But by just looking around one would never know what is hidden amongst this beauty.



The river is quite but by no means silent. The sound of birds that I wish I could distinguish; the families of ducks sensing my approach; making the call and moving quickly away; the cluck of a beautiful white swan; the click and splash of turtles entering the water; the birds and other unseen creatures thrashing in the brush; the croak of bull frogs; the geese and the splashing trout. It is all a rhythm of its own, a symphony of parts weaving with the sounds of the water and wind. There aren’t many humans but on this morning a couple of canoe racers come through, the rhythmic “hut” of the one directing the paddling, swift and slicing through the water behind beside and ahead. A while longer a pair of canoes come through and creates a wake as they pass. The sound of “hut” slowly disappears in the distance.



The paddling is smooth on the main channel of the river, the current is there but on this section it is strengthened mainly by the direction of the wind. While it isn’t very deep, sections of the middle and edge have so many years of sediment and weed build up that even a kayak has difficulty floating across without getting stuck



Returning back to the launch I spot the swan that I heard, floating smoothly in their own noble way in one of the side ponds, visible just through a slit in the bush. Just the sound would reveal it is there.


The sun is higher the mist is gone and the human life beginning to arrive at the railway museum near the launch. The sound of the train floats across the quiet of the pond, not disturbing just mixing. Morning has begun.

talking with the wind

The other day I was talking with the wind. It was a bright day and the wind was fine and I asked it how things were. It told me of its trip through the miles of woods and how easy it was this time of year because there weren’t any leaves but how it missed the summer sounds that it made through the trees; how the buds we appearing and the song birds nesting and the families of bears coming out of their caves. It told me of the mountain tops and how it could see for mile upon mile, of carrying the hawks and eagle a flight and dancing with the windmills; of the river that was winding and overflowing its banks flooding the land where grasses will grow and of the whistliing noise it made between the towers of the city. It told me of its journey to the fluffy clouds above and the ocean shores afar and the spray of the surf and bark of the seals. The wind was quite contended with what it had seen and where it had been, things were well…..life, to the wind, was good

Down by the River

Walking down by the river the sun is bright but the air is a cool and the wind goes right through the fleece that I thought would do it. But it is so beautiful. The river runs quickly, swollen with the melting run-off from the north amd recent rain.

At the boat launch where in a few months I will slip in my kayak it looks so differently. The tall grasses that, in the summer, frame the river and the launch area now are matted down from the snow and earlier flooding and it gives a wide open view that is lost in the summer. In the sheltered spots back from the water, the tall dry grass waves like flags in the breeze.



A fallen tree, a remnants of a beaver meal from last season left and perhaps forgotten, buds appearing on a few bushes and trees in the sunnier areas; bits of trash and balls washed down stream and previously hidden under snow and green brush quickly fills my plastic bag.

The air is clear and there are the sounds of the river swirling around pieces of wood lodged in the river bank, the wind in the trees and the trickle of dozens of streamlets draining the land.



Around the area the sound birds are returning, mother bears have been spotted with their cubs walking the neighborhood in search of food, daffodil green is appearing along the southern sides of stone walls and in the yard and the days are longer.

Spring is here!!!