On a crisp October morning in 2017, I was on the cusp of retirement with leisure time to explored the Johnson Museum of Art at Cornell University, with my grandson Sam and his grandmother, Pam, my wife. We were attending a “Let’s Look Baby” event—a wonderful opportunity to introduce young children to art and the world around them. Sam was a toddler at the time, curious and full of energy, and I was eager to share this moment of discovery with him.
The day started on the museum’s upper level, where expansive windows offered breathtaking views of Ithaca, Cayuga Lake, and the surrounding hills. I lifted Sam so he could take it all in, his little hands gripping my arm as he gazed out at the vibrant autumn landscape while Pam captured the moment. The trees were in early stages of autumn—fiery reds, golden yellows, and rich browns—while Cayuga Lake shimmered in the distance, its deep blue surface reflecting the clear October sky. Sam pointed out toward the horizon; his eyes wide with curiosity. I told him about the lake, the hills, and the valley, trying to capture the beauty of it all in words simple enough for him to understand.
The architecture of the Johnson Museum itself framed the experience perfectly. Designed by I.M. Pei, the building’s clean, modern lines allowed the landscape to take center stage. Standing there with Sam, I felt a profound sense of gratitude—for the view, for the moment, and most of all, for the chance to share it with Sam.
Looking southwest over Cornell University and Ithaca, down the Cayuga Lake Valley. West Hill is to the right. Tompkins County, Finger Lakes Region of New York State
As part of the event, we explored the museum’s galleries, moving from one exhibit to the next. The “Let’s Look Baby” program was designed with young children in mind, blending art appreciation with sensory exploration. While Sam was too young to fully grasp the meaning behind the pieces, he was fascinated by the vibrant colors and the textures of the displays. At one point, we stopped by a ceramic vase. Its elegant curves caught Sam’s attention, and I used the moment to talk to him about shapes and forms, pointing out how it was similar to the roundness of a pumpkin or the arc of a rainbow.
Looking South / Southwest over Cornell University and Ithaca, down the Cayuga Lake Valley. Ithaca College is to the left on South Hill. Tompkins County, Finger Lakes Region of New York State
Throughout the visit, I found myself narrating the world to Sam, drawing connections between what we saw in the museum and the beauty of the natural world outside. It reminded me how much there is to learn and how much joy there is in teaching, even if the lessons are as simple as noticing the colors of leaves or the shape of a cloud.
Looking southwest over Cornell University’s Lib Hill and Ithaca, down the Cayuga Lake Valley. West Hill is to the right. Tompkins County, Finger Lakes Region of New York State
We returned to the large windows overlooking Ithaca more than once. From there, I pointed out the landmarks of the city—downtown Ithaca with its steeples, the rolling hills, and the peaceful expanse of Cayuga Lake stretching toward the horizon. Sam listened quietly, his small fingers pointing to whatever caught his attention. I wondered what he was thinking, but I knew this experience, even if he wouldn’t remember it fully, was shaping his view of the world.
Looking to the North / Northwest over Cornell University and Cayuga Heights to Cayuga Lake. West Hill is to the far left. Along the southern lake shore is Stewart Park, the lighthouse, New York State Marina and Cass Park. Tompkins County, Finger Lakes Region of New York State
The day wasn’t just about what we saw—it was about the connection we shared. Holding Sam in my arms, I felt the simple, deep joy of being present in the moment. This was a chance to see the world through his eyes, to notice the details I might otherwise overlook, and to marvel at the way something as simple as a vase or a view could spark his curiosity.
Looking to the North / Northwest over Cornell University and Cayuga Heights to Cayuga Lake. West Hill is to the far left. Along the southern lake shore is Stewart Park, the lighthouse, New York State Marina and Cass Park. Tompkins County, Finger Lakes Region of New York State
As the October sun swept over the landscape, casting warm golden light, we left the museum. Sam was getting sleepy, his little head resting on my shoulder Pam and I shared a quiet contentment. That day at the Johnson Museum is a memory to treasure, a reminder of the beauty in both art and the natural world, and most importantly, the joy of sharing it with someone you love.
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Copyright 2025 All Rights Reserved Michael Stephen Wills
The morning sunlight bathed Punta del Este in a soft, golden glow we rode in a tour bus with large, clean windows along the streets near Punta de las Salinas, my camera Canon dslr at ready, with a Canon EF 70-300 f/4-5.6 L IS USM lens. This was the perfect time of day for street photography—the light was forgiving, and the people were starting their routines. There’s something magical about candid moments, the kind you can only find when the subjects are unaware they’re being watched. It’s these fleeting, authentic snippets of life that draw me to photography.
I came across the Centro de Información Turística, a modest but bustling hub for visitors. A man in a bright turquoise tank top walked briskly past, talking animatedly into his phone. He was a splash of vibrant color against the clean, white facade of the building, his movement so dynamic that I couldn’t resist snapping a photo. The contrast of his modern, casual style against the timeless architecture behind him captured the essence of Punta del Este—a place where history and the contemporary coexist seamlessly.
Candid shots of people at their leisure in and around Great Britain Square of Punta del Este. Departamento de Maldonado, Uruguay
We were headed to the shoreline for the sound of the waves and the refreshing scent of salt in the air. There, on a low stone wall, an older man in neon green shorts leaned back, exercising his arms. His weathered face was relaxed, a picture of contentment. Behind him, the ocean swirled and crashed against the rocks, and I marveled at how effortlessly this simple scene captured the spirit of life in this coastal city—a balance between the energy of the waves and human moments.
Further down the walkway, a group of people strolled leisurely, their conversations punctuated by laughter. One couple caught my eye—an older man in sunglasses walking beside a woman in a bright red sweater. The warmth between them was palpable, the kind of comfort that comes with years spent together. I raised my camera and framed them against the endless blue horizon. The waves rolled in behind them, their rhythm a perfect counterpoint to the couple’s measured pace. It was a reminder that even in a world that feels transient, some things remain steady and enduring.
Crossing the road, I noticed a young family out for a walk. The parents, both casually dressed, pushed a stroller with a little boy inside. The child’s curiosity was evident as he leaned forward, his tiny hands gripping the sides of the stroller as if ready to leap out and explore the world. The scene felt timeless—youthful energy, familial love, and the sense of new beginnings. It was an image I knew I had to capture, a slice of life that would resonate universally.
Progressing to our destination, we passed a small exercise area, where two women worked out on bright green outdoor machines. Their movements were deliberate, their focus unwavering. One wore a vivid orange top, her energy radiating even from a distance, while the other in teal moved with a more relaxed rhythm. The scene was a perfect metaphor for the city itself—a blend of activity and leisure, where people embraced life at their own pace.
We passed a row of homes and modern apartments facing the ocean. One balcony caught my attention—a young woman stood there, brushing her hair as the breeze played with it. She seemed lost in thought, gazing out at the sea, her solitude a sharp contrast to the bustling streets below. The light hit her at just the right angle, turning her into a silhouette against the backdrop of glass and steel. I clicked the shutter—a quiet moment amid the city’s liveliness.
Further along, another balcony revealed two women sitting at a small table, sharing what looked like breakfast. They were deep in conversation, their gestures animated as they leaned toward one another. The table was set simply, with two cups and a plate of food, but the scene exuded warmth and connection. It reminded me that even in a city known for its glamour and style, the real beauty lies in these intimate, unguarded moments.
As I reviewed the images on my camera, I felt a sense of satisfaction. Punta del Este had revealed itself in layers that morning—a city of contrasts and harmonies, where every street and every person seemed to have a story to tell. Through my lens, I had tried to capture not just the people, but the rhythm of life here, the interplay of light and shadow, motion and stillness, solitude and togetherness. And as the sun climbed higher in the sky, I knew I had witnessed something special—an ordinary morning made extraordinary by the people who lived it.
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Copyright 2024 All Rights Reserved Michael Stephen Wills
Here, on the playground, the morning stretches wide— a sky so blue it swallows you whole. And you, a small figure, climbing the red pillar, moving hand over hand up the ropes that knot and twist like veins, like lifelines.
I watch from below, the ground a familiar place where footsteps fall and scatter— but you, you are ascending, breath held in the still air. Nothing is simple in this moment, yet everything is—
the cord that bends beneath you, the thrill in your chest, the boots pressed firm against braided paths.
If I could speak, if words were clear as the day, I’d tell you how these small victories— climbing high, standing above— are etched into the bones of memory. Someday, you’ll look back and wonder at the web of ropes, the pillar red against autumn’s burn, and the vastness that carried you up, into light, into air,
where fear gave way to joy, and the sky leaned close, just to watch you rise.
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Copyright 2024 All Rights Reserved Michael Stephen Wills
Enjoy a memorable visit to Lime Hollow Nature Preserve by a grandfather and his grandsons, exploring nature, observing wildlife, and connecting through shared experiences, fostering curiosity and appreciation for the environment.
The October sunlight was gentle as we entered Lime Hollow Nature Preserve from Gracie Road, my grandsons, Sam and Rory, bursting with excitement beside me. Sam, the eldest, took the lead, confidently striding ahead along the Sunset Trail while Rory, his younger brother, stayed close to my side, his eyes wide with wonder at the forest around us.
Descent to the Pond
The trail wound through the woods, dappled with the golds and reds of early autumn. Sam spotted a squirrel darting between trees, and Rory pointed to the sky, “Look, Grandpa, a woodpecker!” I smiled at their enthusiasm, feeling grateful for these moments of connection to nature and family.
We descended toward the pond via the Pond View Trail, the sound of trickling water drawing us closer. As we approached, the landscape opened up, revealing the calm, reflective surface of the water, bordered by reeds swaying in the light breeze. I remembered bringing the boys here last spring, how different the pond looked then—brimming with life as frogs leapt from the banks and dragonflies zipped across the water’s surface. Today, the scene was quieter, but no less magical.
Rory, ever the adventurer, crouched by the pond’s edge, watching for frogs. Sam, too, paused to observe but soon grew restless, his curiosity pushing him onward. “Come on, Grandpa! Let’s see what’s next!” His voice echoed through the trees as he darted back onto the trail, Rory quick to follow.
Encounter with the Giant Fungus
The path led us deeper into the forest, and soon we turned onto the Brookside Trail, which merged with the High Ridge Trail. Here, the air grew cooler under the dense canopy of trees, and the forest floor softened beneath our feet with layers of leaves. It was then that we stumbled upon the most magnificent sight of the day: an enormous bracket fungus, its wide, layered shelves clinging to the trunk a hoary snag.
Rory gasped in delight, running over to inspect it more closely. “Look how big it is!” he exclaimed, his small hands hovering just above its ridged surface. Sam, never one to be outdone, knelt beside it, carefully touching the spongy layers. “It’s a staircase for squirrels,” he said, grinning up at me.
Turkey Tail bracket fungus (Trametes versicolor) is a common wood decay fungus found on dead and decaying hardwoods. Named for its concentric, colorful bands resembling a turkey’s tail, it plays a vital role in forest ecosystems by breaking down lignin, facilitating nutrient recycling. It’s also valued for its medicinal properties. Lime Hollow Nature Center, Cortland, Cortland County, New York State. Finger Lakes Regions
As I watched them, I couldn’t help but think back to all the times I had wandered these trails alone before they were born. Now, these woods had become a classroom for them—full of discoveries that sparked their curiosity and wonder. It was a beautiful moment of generational connection, this passing on of my love for the natural world to Sam and Rory.
Fascinating Beech Tree Roots
On the way out, we took the Brookside / Pond View / Sunset trails once again, but this time, this intricate network of roots from a massive beech tree fascinated us. The roots twisted and coiled across the path like veins, in our imaginations the gnarled shapes snagged our feet. Sam, ever the explorer, stepped cautiously along the roots, balancing himself as if walking a tightrope. Rory followed suit, his giggles filling the air.
An American beech (Fagus grandifolia). These trees are quite common in northeastern forests. The beech tree is known for its smooth smooth, gray bark, which can become marked with scars or etchings as the tree ages. Additionally, its leaves are typically dark green, with serrated edges, and turn yellow to bronze in the fall, often staying on the tree through winter. Lime Hollow Nature Center, Cortland, New York State
“These roots are older than us,” I told them. “Beech trees can live for hundreds of years. Just think, this tree has seen many more seasons than we ever will.”
Sam’s eyes widened at the thought, while Rory gave the tree a gentle pat, as if to thank it for its wisdom. I marveled at how something as simple as a root system could captivate their imaginations and bring the lesson of time and growth to life.
Reminiscing on the Chicago Bog
In the 1830’s there was a village named Chicago along Gracie Road, which gives it the name we have today. The Chicago Bog is home to many carnivorous plants, including sundew, the pitcher plant, and more. The deepest depth of the bog is about 7.2 ft. The bog is along the Phillips Memorial Trail, which can be found on Gracie Road. Lime Hollow Nature Center, Cortland, New York
As we walked, my mind wandered back to a visit we had made to the Chicago Bog just a year before. I remembered the day clearly—how we had trekked through the wetland on a warm June afternoon, the ground soft beneath our feet, alive with the buzzing of insects and the vibrant green of new growth.
The chalk-fronted corporal (Ladona julia) is a skimmer dragonfly found in the northern United States and southern Canada. Juveniles of both sexes are light reddish brown, with white shoulder stripes and a black stripe down the middle of the abdomen. As they mature, males develop a white pruinescence on the top of the thorax and at the base of the abdomen, while the rest of the abdomen turns black. Females become almost uniformly dark brown, with a dusting of gray pruinescence near the base of the abdomen; a few develop the same color pattern as the males. Chalk-fronted corporals often perch horizontally on the ground or on floating objects in the water, flying up to take prey from the air. They are gregarious for dragonflies, and are commonly seen perching in groups. They readily approach humans to feed on the mosquitoes and biting flies that humans attract.
It was there, by the edge of the bog, that we had encountered a dragonfly, a Chalk-fronted Corporal, resting on a fallen log. Its dark, iridescent wings shimmered in the sunlight, and Sam had been mesmerized by its delicate beauty. He had asked so many questions that day—about how dragonflies flew, what they ate, and where they lived. I had done my best to answer, but truth be told, I learned as much as he did in that moment.
Nearby, a meadow of buttercups had stretched out before us, their yellow blooms dancing in the breeze. Rory had run through them, his laughter ringing out as he tried to catch a butterfly that flitted between the flowers. The memory of that field of gold still brought a smile to my face as we made our way through Lime Hollow today.
A Day to Remember
As we neared the end of our hike, the afternoon light filtering through the trees, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of contentment. These outings with Sam and Rory had become more than just walks in the woods—they were opportunities to share, to learn, and to make memories that I knew would last a lifetime.
“Grandpa, can we come back?” Rory asked, his face flushed with excitement.
“Of course,” I said, smiling. “We’ll always have time for another adventure.”
On a crisp September morning, a grandfather leads his grandsons on a nature walk, discovering the mysteries of the forest. Together, they encounter a curious caterpillar and uncover the wonders of the natural world.
Unseasonably warm September morning air gently stirred the leaves as I guided my grandsons, Sam and Rory, through our woods near Freeville. Our boots crunched softly on the damp earth, and the sounds of nature enveloped us like an old, familiar melody. Today we were on a mission of discovery, with Mother Nature as our guide.
“Grandpa, look at this!” Sam called, excitement radiating from his face. Rory, always close behind his older brother, crouched down, his bright eyes scanning the ground for any movement. I smiled. Sam’s sharp curiosity and Rory’s quiet attentiveness reminded me so much of myself at their age, exploring the woods.
We stopped at a patch of earth, where the boys had found a small hole in the ground, evidence of something recently disturbed. “Do you think it’s a mole, Grandpa?” Rory asked, his voice a mix of wonder and uncertainty.
“Maybe,” I said, leaning down beside them. “Or it could be something larger, like a chipmunk. These woods are full of surprises.”
As they explored further, I glanced at the trees, their trunks coated in a rich tapestry of moss and lichen. Then, something caught my eye—a familiar white and black figure on the bark of a young tree, I’ll call it a hickory.
“Hey, boys, come over here for a second. I’ve got something to show you,” I called, my voice calm but laced with excitement. Sam and Rory, ever eager, bounded over. “Look at this caterpillar.”
Their faces lit up when they spotted it. “Whoa, it’s so fuzzy!” Sam exclaimed.
“Yeah, but don’t touch,” I warned gently, kneeling to get a better look. “This little guy is called a Hickory Tussock Moth Caterpillar. See those long white hairs? Some of them can irritate your skin. Always good to admire from a distance.”
Rory looked up at me, wide-eyed. “What does it turn into?”
I smiled. “That’s the magic of it. This caterpillar will eventually become a moth, a Hickory Tussock Moth, in fact. But right now, it’s preparing for a long journey. In just a few weeks, it’ll spin itself a cocoon and wait all winter before emerging as a moth in the spring.”
Sam squinted at the caterpillar, studying its every bristle. “So it’s it’s going to sleep for the winter?”
“Exactly,” I said, pleased with his understanding. “It’s one of nature’s ways of resting and preparing for something new.”
The boys stared at the caterpillar in silence for a moment, and I could tell their young minds were spinning with thoughts. Maybe they were thinking about their own journeys—how each season brought something new to learn, something new to experience.
As we moved on from the caterpillar, deeper into the woods, I couldn’t help but feel a quiet sense of gratitude. These moments, small as they may seem, were the kinds of memories that last a lifetime. I was passing down not just knowledge but a love for the natural world, a connection to the earth that I hoped would stay with them long after I was gone.
We finished our adventure with planting two oak saplings. The boys dug in the rich soil, each working carefully as we prepared a young sapling to take root. I watched as they placed the sapling into the earth, their hands gentle yet sure. Together, we packed the soil around its base.
“You know,” I said softly, “these oaks will grow just like you two. Stronger every year. And one day, you’ll bring your own children here to see it.”
Sam and Rory exchanged a look, a flicker of understanding passing between them, and I knew the lesson had landed. Nature has a way of teaching us that growth, whether in a tree or in ourselves, takes time and patience.
As we packed up to leave, I glanced back at the hickory tree where the caterpillar still clung, a tiny, determined creature, preparing for the change to come. In that moment, I felt the same sense of wonder I’d seen in the boys’ eyes earlier. Even after all these years, nature never ceased to amaze me.
“Come on, boys,” I said, with one last glance at the woods. “Let’s see what other adventures await us.”
Copyright 2024 Michael Stephen Wills All Rights Reserved
Join me on a heartwarming adventure at Comstock Creek with my grandchildren, Sam and Rory, as we explore the wonders of nature, create lasting memories, and celebrate the legacy of the Comstock family.
The morning sun filtered through the lush canopy of trees as I guided my grandchildren, down the familiar path towards Comstock Creek of the Cayuga Nature Center. The children were familiar with the creek from time spent in summer camp. This little haven of nature is a favorite spot of theirs. Comstock Creek, named after the Comstock family, stands as a testament to their significant contributions to entomology and nature education. John Henry Comstock, a renowned entomologist, and his wife, Anna Botsford Comstock, a pioneering figure in nature study, left an indelible mark on the Ithaca area and beyond. Their legacy lives on, not just in the academic world, but in these very waters where my grandchildren now play.
As we reached the creek, the children wasted no time kicking off their shoes and wading into the cool, shallow water. My grandson, in his red shirt, and granddaugter, in her green one, both radiated joy and curiosity. The sunlight danced on the water’s surface, casting shimmering reflections that seemed to animate the entire scene.
The youngest was the first to discover a small pool where the water had carved out a deeper spot. “Look, Grandpa!” he exclaimed, his voice full of excitement. He crouched down, peering intently at the tiny fish darting around his feet. His sister joined him, her initial apprehension giving way to a wide-eyed fascination as she watched the underwater ballet.
Their time was spent turning over rocks to find little aquatic creatures and marveling at the delicate balance of nature. The children’s laughter echoed through the woods, blending with the sounds of rustling leaves and the gentle babble of the creek. Their sense of wonder reminded me of the Comstocks’ passion for nature, a passion they had so fervently shared with the world.
After a while, we decided to take a break and walked through the meadow past where tall reeds swayed gently in the breeze. He knew of a small, tranquil pond that reflected the sky like a mirror. He leaned the water’s edge,hoping to grab a frog. I stood back, capturing this peaceful moment with my camera, knowing that these images would become treasured memories.
As noon approached, we travelled back to Ithaca for an ice cream treat, promised them as a reward for their adventurous spirit. Their faces lit up with delight as they savored their treats, their expressions reflecting pure contentment.
The day wouldn’t have been complete without a splash in the pool. Back home, grandmother set up the inflatable volleyball net while the kids changed into their swimsuits. The pool became a hub of activity as they splashed around, their laughter blending with the sound of the water.
Reflecting on the day, I felt a deep sense of gratitude. The Comstock family’s dedication to nature education had inspired generations, including my own. Their legacy was evident not just in the academic institutions of Ithaca, but in the simple, joyous exploration of nature that I shared with my grandchildren. I hope this day at Comstock Creek will be remembered fondly, a chapter in our family’s ongoing story of discovery and connection with the natural world.
Copyright 2024 Michael Stephen Wills All Rights Reserved
Join us on a captivating adventure at the Cayuga Nature Center’s Treetops Treehouse and the Finger Lakes Beekeepers Club Learning Apiary. Discover the wonders of the forest canopy, marvel at the intricate world of honeybees, and meet a tiny land snail that sparked the curiosity of two young explorers. Dive into a day filled with discovery, learning, and unforgettable moments in nature.
The morning air was crisp and filled with the promise of adventure as we set off for the Cayuga Nature Center, a hidden gem nestled in the heart of Ithaca. The destination: the Treetops Treehouse, a magical structure that promised an immersive experience in nature for me, my sister Diane and two grandsons, Sam and Rory.
As we approached the treehouse, the boys’ excitement was palpable. The Treetops Treehouse is a marvel of rustic architecture, a multi-level structure that blends seamlessly with the surrounding forest. It was designed to give visitors a bird’s-eye view of the forest canopy, allowing for a unique perspective on the local flora and fauna.
Exploring the Treetops
Upon arrival, we were greeted by the gentle rustle of leaves and the chorus of bird songs. The boys raced ahead, eager to explore the winding pathways and hidden nooks of the treehouse. The structure is constructed entirely of wood, with sturdy railings and wide platforms that offer panoramic views of the forest.
Capturing the moment inside Treetops
We were particularly fascinated by the various interpretive signs that explained the local ecosystem. We learned about the different species of trees, the birds that nested in the canopy, and the small mammals that scurried along the forest floor. It was a delight to sparked their curiosity of the natural world.
Discovering a Land Snail
Meadow Trail
Afterwards, walking along a meadow trail, Rory’s keen eyes spotted something unusual on the ground. Nestled among the fallen leaves was a small land snail, its delicate shell glistening in the dappled sunlight. The boys and I gathered around to observe this tiny marvel of nature.
The snail appeared to be from the genus Triodopsis or Neohelix, possibly Triodopsis albolabris or Neohelix albolabris, known for their white-lipped shells. These snails are common in moist, forested environments and play a crucial role in the ecosystem as decomposers. They feed on decaying plant material, helping to recycle nutrients back into the soil.
The Learning Apiary
Further along the meadow trail, we made our way to the Finger Lakes Beekeepers Club Learning Apiary. The apiary is a place of learning and discovery, where visitors can gain insight into the fascinating world of honeybees and beekeeping.
The apiary is composed of several beehives, each carefully maintained by members of the Beekeepers Club. We were careful to keep our distance from the electrified fence, protection against marauding bears and humans.
“ever-busy bees”
Wildflowers in Bloom
Narrow Leaved Sundrops
As we walked back from the apiary, the trail was lined with a vibrant display of wildflowers. The late spring bloom painted the landscape with splashes of color, from the golden yellows of evening primrose to the delicate whites of daisies.
Large Yellow Loosestrife
One particular cluster of bright yellow flowers caught our attention. It was the Lysimachia punctata, commonly known as yellow loosestrife. These star-shaped flowers grow in dense clusters and are a favorite among pollinators. The boys marveled at the intricate patterns and vibrant colors, adding another layer of wonder to our day.
Reflections on a Memorable Day
As the day drew to a close, we found a quiet spot to sit and reflect on our adventures. The boys were bubbling with stories to tell their parents—of the towering treehouse, the tiny snail, the bustling beehives, and the fields of wildflowers. It was a day filled with discovery and learning, one that brought us closer to nature and to each other.
The Cayuga Nature Center and the Finger Lakes Beekeepers Club Learning Apiary provided a perfect setting for an outing that was both educational and exhilarating. The experiences we shared will undoubtedly leave a lasting impression on Sam and Rory, nurturing their love for the natural world and the myriad forms of life that inhabit it.
Meadow View
As we packed up and headed home, the boys already began planning our next adventure. The allure of the natural world, with its endless mysteries and wonders, had woven its spell, and we were eager to explore more of what it had to offer.
Copyright 2024 Michael Stephen Wills All Rights Reserved
Join us as we explore the enchanting “Treetops” treehouse at Cayuga Nature Center. Discover the joy of hide and seek, and the magic of nature, through the eyes of my grandsons on a serene Sunday morning.
The air was crisp and cool as I strolled hand in hand with my grandsons, Sam and Rory, through the vibrant greens of the Cayuga Nature Center. The leaves rustled gently in the Sunday morning breeze, their whispers the only company we had. It was a quiet, serene moment, with no one else around, and the boys’ excitement was palpable as they chattered about their previous visits.
“Grandpa, do you remember this place?” Sam asked, his eyes twinkling with anticipation. Rory, not to be outdone, chimed in, “We have to show you the treehouse! It’s the best part!”
Their enthusiasm was infectious, and I found myself eager to see this magical place they spoke of. We followed a winding path, each step bringing us deeper into the lush woodland, until at last, the imposing structure of the “Treetops” treehouse came into view. It stood tall and mysterious; an intricate wooden edifice cloaked in the verdant embrace of the forest.
The treehouse was a marvel, its towering form constructed of twisted branches and sturdy planks, blending seamlessly with the natural surroundings. A wooden bridge led up to the entrance, and as we approached, the boys’ pace quickened.
“Let’s play hide and seek!” Rory suggested, his voice echoing with excitement. Sam nodded vigorously, already darting towards the treehouse entrance. “You count, Grandpa!” he called over his shoulder.
I began counting aloud, my voice mingling with the sounds of nature—the chirping of birds, the gentle rustle of leaves. When I reached twenty, I opened my eyes to find the boys had disappeared into the labyrinth of the treehouse. I stepped inside, the cool shade a welcome respite from the sun’s gentle warmth.
The interior was a maze of hidden nooks and winding staircases, each turn revealing a new secret. I could hear the faint giggles of the boys as they tried to stifle their laughter. The treehouse was alive with the echoes of their joy, each sound bouncing off the wooden walls like a symphony of childhood exuberance.
As I navigated the winding paths, I couldn’t help but marvel at the intricate details of the structure. The signs scattered throughout added an educational touch, detailing the lives of the birds and spiders that called this place home. One sign, titled “A Place For Everyone,” explained how each bird species had its niche, much like the boys had found their hiding spots.
“Found you!” I called out, spotting Sam’s bright red shirt from behind a wooden beam. He laughed and dashed off, his footsteps a rhythmic drumbeat on the wooden floor. Rory was next, his giggles giving away his hiding spot behind a thick cluster of branches.
We continued our game, the treehouse transforming into a magical playground where time seemed to stand still. The boys’ laughter filled the air, mingling with the natural symphony of the forest. We explored every corner, from the highest platform with its breathtaking view of the surrounding forest to the dark, cozy nooks perfect for hiding.
Phillips Falls is a picturesque waterfall located on Comstock Creek in view of the Treetops treehouse within the Cayuga Nature Center in Ithaca, New York. The falls are a highlight of the Nature Center, offering visitors a scenic and tranquil spot to enjoy the natural beauty of the area. The waterfall is accessible via the nature trails that wind through the Center’s diverse landscapes, including forests and meadows.
Here are a few key points about Phillips Falls:
Scenic Beauty: Phillips Falls is known for its serene and beautiful setting, making it a popular spot for nature enthusiasts, hikers, and photographers.
Hiking Trails: The falls can be reached by hiking trails within the Cayuga Nature Center. The trails vary in difficulty, providing options for different levels of hikers.
Educational Programs: The Cayuga Nature Center often includes Phillips Falls in its educational programs and guided tours, focusing on the ecology and geology of the area.
Wildlife Habitat: The area around Phillips Falls is home to a variety of wildlife, making it a great spot for birdwatching and observing other animals in their natural habitat.
Seasonal Changes: The appearance and flow of the waterfall can change with the seasons, offering a different experience for visitors throughout the year.
Overall, Phillips Falls is a cherished natural feature of the Cayuga Nature Center, providing both a peaceful retreat and an educational experience for visitors.
After our game, we stood on the bridge, looking out over the creek below. The water sparkled in the sunlight, a serene contrast to our playful morning. “This place is amazing,” I said, turning to the boys. They nodded, their faces flushed with happiness.
“We love coming here,” Sam said. “It’s like a secret world.”
Rory nodded in agreement. “And now you know our secret too, Grandpa.”
As we made our way back down the path, I felt a deep sense of gratitude for this moment, for the chance to share in the boys’ joy and to see the world through their eyes. The “Treetops” treehouse had not only been a place of play but also a bridge between generations, a testament to the simple, timeless pleasures of exploring nature together.
Phillips Falls on Comstock Creek, seen from Treetops
Copyright 2024 Michael Stephen Wills All Rights Reserved
In the gentle embrace of the Finger Lakes region of New York State, the crisp post-Thanksgiving air is a mix of woodsmoke and the faint whisper of winter on the horizon. The earthy scent of fallen leaves, damp from the morning dew, begins to permeate the atmosphere, beckoning families outdoors to partake in the timeless ritual of leaf gathering.
The landscape is a canvas of russet and gold, painted by the hands of autumn. In one of the many serene backyards, framed by the skeletal silhouettes of trees now slumbering after their fiery display, a mound of leaves becomes the center of joyous activity. Here, a child, bundled in the cozy layers necessary to fend off the chill, is immersed in the simple, yet profound act of play. The leaves, a tapestry of oaks and maples, become her castle, her sea, her world to explore.
Her laughter rings clear, a melodic counterpoint to the rustling leaves as she is lifted high by loving hands only to descend into the crunchy embrace of her leafy playpen. A grandfather, his face etched with the smile lines of countless summers and autumns past, becomes the orchestrator of this joy. His flannel shirt, a patchwork of reds and greens, reflects the colors of the season, and his hands, weathered from years of tending to the earth and its cycles, now tenderly guide the child in her play.
The rake, usually a tool of labor, becomes a wand of magic, directing the leaves into heaps that rise and fall with each jump and dive. The child’s mittened hands grasp at the leaves, each one a different hue, a different shape, a different story. They fly up around her like a flock of birds taking flight, then settle back into their collective, creating a soft rustling symphony that speaks of the changing season.
The photographs of this gallery are by Soraya Leathers
As the sun begins to dip lower, casting elongated shadows across the yard, the child’s energy wanes. The vibrant activity gives way to tranquil moments of rest, with the child now lying still among the leaves, her eyes reflecting the vastness of the sky above, clear and blue, a window between the earthly and the infinite.
The day wanes, and the leaf-gathering winds down. A final tableau shows the child, now indoors, cocooned in the warmth of a blanket that mirrors the plaid of her grandfather’s shirt, the same colors now muted and soft. Her eyes are heavy with the weight of a day well spent, her dreams surely filled with the laughter and the leaves and the boundless love that turns even the simplest act into a treasure of memories.
This is the essence of leaf gathering in the Finger Lakes after Thanksgiving – not just the collection of what has fallen, but the gathering of family, of joy, and of moments that will be cherished and recalled long after the last leaf has been tucked into the earth’s winter bed. It’s a time when the harvest is not just of the land’s bounty but of the heart’s. Each leaf, a reminder that even as the world prepares to sleep beneath the snow, life is rich, full, and evergreen in the hearts of those who share it.
In a heartwarming YouTube video, Samuel Jack Wills and his grandmother Pam turn cake-making into an adventure in celebration of his Batman-themed birthday. The video captures endearing family traditions, from a talking doorbell to playful gift unwrapping, and culminates in the creation of a Bat-Signal adorned cake and joyous birthday song.
Grab your capes, click on our video, and be a part of our delightful celebration that’s sure to lift your spirits sky-high!
🎉 Get ready for an extraordinary adventure into the world of cake-making with our superstar, Samuel Jack Wills, and his magical sidekick, Grandma Pam! 🍰✨ It’s a special day just before Halloween, and the excitement is as palpable as the crisp autumn air. 🍂
🦇 In our latest heartwarming YouTube video, witness the grand entrance of our birthday hero, Sam, as he strides through the gate with his dad, Sean Wills, to a chorus of giggles and gasps, thanks to our quirky, talking doorbell that’s become an outrageous family tradition. 🎈
Join us in the celebration as Sam unwraps wonders from Grandma Pam and Grandpa Michael: from a thrilling Batman-themed birthday card that lights up the room with a Bat-Signal magnetic sticker, to a fleet of Gotham-inspired toys including an aircraft, the Batcave, and even miniature treasures like a suitcase brimming with play 100 dollar bills. 🏰💰
Sam and Grandma Pam put on their chef hats, discussing and designing a cake that’s not just a treat but a superhero saga! 🎂 With buttercream as smooth as velvet and chocolate layers that whisper ‘indulge’, they create a masterpiece adorned with blue and yellow frosting, featuring the iconic Bat-Signal.
And what’s a Batcave without boulders? Watch them skillfully make Rice Krispy treat boulders to scatter around their edible Batcave — a feast for the eyes as much as the taste buds. 🍫
The grand finale is a chorus of joy as Sam, surrounded by his loving family, basks in the glow of birthday candles and the warmth of the Birthday Song. 🎶 It’s a day where memories are made, laughter is shared, and love is multiplied.
So grab your capes, click on our video, and be a part of our delightful celebration that’s sure to lift your spirits sky-high! 🚀 Don’t forget to like, share, and subscribe for more family fun with the Wills clan! #SuperSamCakeAdventure 🥳👨🍳