It's December now, and our weather is beginning to take on a darker mood- a cold, dreary, gray sameness...
... that seems to hover over us through much of the winter. John Updike describes it pretty well:
Such a cheery guy, right? Well, maybe that's a bit overly gloomy; but anyway, on days like this, my mind tends to dwell in brighter places.
I dream of meandering down the Kinniconick on a bright warm day...
...walking down to the place where I sometimes cross over to the island...
...hearing the crickle-crackle of the shale as thin layers snap under my feet.
If the creek is up, and running fast,
I'll never get across the slippery sandstones without bruising my behind, and getting very wet besides...
So I'll go back to where it's safer (though still pretty wet)- the point where water flows out of the swirl-hole. That's our "beach" on the left, and the island on the right.
Here's a view looking back at our little "beach" from the island.
Standing on the island, where it curves around the swirl-hole...
... to the tip of the island, which divides the swirl-hole from the other side of the creek.
My little "mental trip" is turning out to be longer than I expected, so it seems I'll have to continue it in another post. I'm feeling much better now, though- aren't you?
... that seems to hover over us through much of the winter. John Updike describes it pretty well:
The days are short, The sun a spark Hung thin between The dark and dark.
Such a cheery guy, right? Well, maybe that's a bit overly gloomy; but anyway, on days like this, my mind tends to dwell in brighter places.
I dream of meandering down the Kinniconick on a bright warm day...
...walking down to the place where I sometimes cross over to the island...
...hearing the crickle-crackle of the shale as thin layers snap under my feet.
If the creek is up, and running fast,
I'll never get across the slippery sandstones without bruising my behind, and getting very wet besides...
So I'll go back to where it's safer (though still pretty wet)- the point where water flows out of the swirl-hole. That's our "beach" on the left, and the island on the right.
Here's a view looking back at our little "beach" from the island.
Standing on the island, where it curves around the swirl-hole...
I gaze across the wide expanse of shimmering green reflections...
... to the tip of the island, which divides the swirl-hole from the other side of the creek.
My little "mental trip" is turning out to be longer than I expected, so it seems I'll have to continue it in another post. I'm feeling much better now, though- aren't you?
