Here is a recapitulation of my latest posts in the form of a slideshow.
Robert H. Treman New York State Park.
A Hemlock Curtain
Early April the Gorge Trail along Lucifer Falls is closed, here we look up to the falls in flood from a safe distance.
The Rim Trail gate to the Cliff Stairs is open. We are headed that way.
These shots were hand held. I used a Sony Alpha 700 dslr with a variable “zoom” lens, great for framing compositions.
Robert H. Treman New York State Park.
Click for macro slideshow.
Key words: steep, icy
It is the Gorge Trail that’s closed for the cold months, November through April. The Rim Trail remains open for those who dare icy, steep paths Unlike Gorge Trail, Rim Trail climbs above the dangerous cliffs from which rocks are wedged free by ice to fall on the trail. On an early spring day, after a sudden frost, we walked the Rim Trail to capture the moment.
Here is the steep start, climbing up from the Upper Park where a footbridge crosses Fish Kill. Kill is the old Dutch word for creek. Fish Kill mergers with Enfield Creek a few hundred feet downstream.
This north facing slope stays frozen into May. Here layers of the sedimentary rock shale, laid down in a shallow warm sea over 350 million years ago, are slowly pried apart. Hemlock tree roots wedge between rock layers, slowly growing. The action of ice, water expands in volume at the point of freezing, aids the process.
In places the rock face appears to be a hastily made dry stone wall, the rock layers are so disrupted by plant and frost.
These shots were hand held. I used a Sony Alpha 700 dslr with a variable “zoom” lens, great for framing compositions.
Robert H. Treman New York State Park.
Andrew Wyeth effect
Here the Rim Trail climbs out of the flats beneath the Cliff Stairs, away from Enfield Creek, onto the upper slopes of the gorge.
Early spring snow highlights the path, threading between hemlocks. The American realistic painter Andrew Wyeth comes to mind with I see the mottled texture of this light snow. He captured some of this in landscape paintings such as “Snow Flurries.”
Here is more of this effect……
These shots were hand held. I used a Sony Alpha 700 dslr with a variable “zoom” lens, great for framing compositions.
Robert H. Treman New York State Park.
Source of life-saving drug
A broad, fertile flat between gorge walls supports a dense growth of invasive creeping myrtle. Springtime there is a sprinkling of small blue flowers, this may be the source of another name, periwinkle, or lesser periwinkle.
Periwinkle is an evergreen and in early times vinca vine (another name we call it, from the scientific name Vinca Minor) was planted in graveyards and cemeteries. The isolated growth of vinca vine in this section of the gorge maybe from such a planting on a lost grave.
Today, the park practices leaving fallen trees in place, here they are covered in years of moss, a memory of headstones. Lesser Perriwinkle is significant for the living as the source of vincamine, from the leaves. A synthetic form of this compound is a potent vasodilator, a therapeutic treatment for stroke and other brain disorders.
These shots were hand held. I used a Sony Alpha 700 dslr with a variable “zoom” lens, great for framing compositions.
Robert H. Treman New York State Park.
Source: Wikipedia, “Vinca Minor.”
Amphibian haven, breeding place
Melting snow, spring rains, gather in hollows of the forest floor to form ephemeral pools important for the development of amphibian life.
Also named vernal pools, from the Latin word for spring or the time of the equinox. The pools are ephemeral in the sense of being temporary, disappearing in the warmer, dryer late spring and summer months, a characteristic important for amphibian live in being devoid of predatory fish.
Here the pool forms on a flat beneath the walls of Enfield Gorge. Here is another photograph featuring the ephemeral winter theme, “The Cave.”
These shots were hand held. I used a Sony Alpha 700 dslr with a variable “zoom” lens, great for framing compositions.
Robert H. Treman New York State Park.
Sources: Wikipedia, “Vernal Pool” and Merriam Webster online.
I love the early spring light filtering through the hemlocks.
Rim trail traverses gullies. These creases in the gorge walls were formed by small streams flowing to Enfield Creek.
Some passages require a wade, others have elaborate walkways with bridges. I initially wanted to call these ravines. Upon researching the term discovered while ravines are formed by erosion, the scale here is much smaller. I could rename Enfield Gorge, to Enfield Ravine.
These shots were hand held. I used a Sony Alpha 700 dslr with a variable “zoom” lens, great for framing compositions.
Robert H. Treman New York State Park.
Key words: steep, icy
Water drips steadily from seeps, places water follows hidden cracks to emerge from the darkness. In warm seasons these may be a patch of moisture enabling the growth of ferns, only becoming evident when air is cold enough to freeze slowly running water.
These macros capture the Moss, Fern and Lichen. These thrive in this environment.
These shots were hand held. I used a Sony Alpha 700 dslr with a variable “zoom” lens, great for framing compositions.
Robert H. Treman New York State Park.
Amidst spruce needles, a Gray Catbird’s mew captivated me; a hidden minstrel whose dulcet mimicry and secretive charm turned my backyard in Ithaca into an amphitheater of nature’s most intricate symphonies.
In my backyard, amidst the spruce trees that seem to touch the sky, I had a unique encounter with a little gray bird known as the Dumetella carolinensis, or more commonly, the Gray Catbird. I learned that “Dumetella” comes from the Latin word for “thorny thicket”, hinting at its penchant for skulking in dense underbrush, often hidden from sight. Its species name, “carolinensis”, pays homage to the Carolinas, though this bird has certainly made a comfortable home here too.
This particular visitor had a call reminiscent of a cat’s mew, a curious sound that first drew my attention. As I peeked through the window, I noticed it wasn’t just imitating felines; it was a veritable mimic, echoing the songs of other birds, even copying the croaks of tree frogs, and sometimes the mechanical noises of our own making. Its syrinx, a true marvel of nature, allows it to produce two sounds simultaneously – an impressive feat for such a small creature.
Unlike the showy northern mockingbird or the brown thrasher, which repeat their musical phrases several times, this Gray Catbird preferred to sing each of its phrases just once. Its song was a bit raspier, less melodic but still captivating in its own right.
It’s interesting that the Gray Catbird often chooses to remain hidden when it sings, favoring the inner sanctuary of bushes or trees like the spruce in my yard, a natural stage set by verdant leaves and branches. And while I watched, it seemed content in its concealment, a master of melody cloaked in foliage.
As I observed it, I recalled reading that the Gray Catbird’s diet is as varied as its repertoire of sounds. Fruits and berries make up about half of its diet. This little bird has quite the palate, enjoying a smorgasbord that includes mealworms, earthworms, beetles, and other insects, not to mention the bounty of summer offerings such as ants, beetles, grasshoppers, caterpillars, moths, and a selection of berries from holly, cherry, elderberry, poison ivy, bay, and blackberries.
I made a mental note of the date, captured in the metadata of the photograph I snapped: 2021, from my home in Ithaca. A simple image, yet it encapsulated a serene moment of connection with a creature so adept at concealment and mimicry, a moment I would treasure. The Gray Catbird, with its unique song and dietary habits, has become a beloved part of my backyard symphony.
Discover the enchanting beauty of Steamboat Landing in Ithaca, New York. From the quiet winter majesty to the vibrant warmth of spring, this historical waterfront is a testament to the city’s rich past and evolving present.
Steamboat Landing in Ithaca, New York, is steeped in historical significance, serving as a testament to the city’s rich past and its evolving present. At the dawn of the 20th century, it was a bustling hub where steamboats carried passengers and freight, linking Ithaca to an ever-growing nation. These vessels were vital for the development of commerce, aiding travelers as they embarked and disembarked on their journeys that continued by stagecoach or later, by train.
In 1790, this spot marked the beginnings of commerce in the area, with the establishment of Ithaca’s first store. Over the years, Steamboat Landing has transformed from a pivotal commerce point to a recreational area, housing Ithaca’s Farmers Market—a vibrant hub that mirrors the liveliness of its heyday.
Today, Steamboat Landing is a place of gathering and serenity. My photographs showcase a tranquil setting moving through winter. In one scene, the rustic benches encircle a barren tree, standing as silent guardians of the land. It’s a still image, almost reminiscent of a painting, where the leafless trees stand vigil over the quiet benches.
Switching seasons, we see the docks adorned with festive wreaths, injecting life and celebration into the scenery. The bright red ribbons stand out against the crisp blue of the water and the sky, suggesting a community that embraces tradition and the joy of the moment.
The pictures depict how the landing is woven into the natural tapestry of the area. It is a place where one can sit and watch the placid waters of Cayuga Lake or stroll along the docks, feeling the crisp air against their skin. The images of the clear skies, the open waters, and the flight of birds in the distance are a subtle reminder of nature’s continuous presence.
The waterfront trail exemplifies the community’s efforts to merge history with modernity, providing a space where people can connect with the environment and each other. The docks, once a stage for industrial exchange, now serve as a peaceful retreat, hinting at the deep-seated human desire for connection—not only to each other but also to the very essence of the environment we inhabit.
The change in seasons at Steamboat Landing brings a unique beauty, which the photographs showcase poignantly. From the barren coldness of winter to the lush warmth of spring, each season imbues the landing with a distinct character. The winter images reveal a quiet majesty, with the bare branches and gray skies reflecting the introspective nature of the season. The springtime shots, however, burst with promise and vitality, as greenery begins to cloak the landscape and the water shimmers under the strengthening sun.
Steamboat Landing’s legacy as a historical transport hub has set the stage for its future as a cherished community locale. The images and historical texts paint a picture of a place that has embraced its past while looking forward to a vibrant and inclusive future. It is a locale that pays homage to its roots through the Farmers Market and other community events, ensuring that the spirit of the old steamboats continues to thrive in the hearts of Ithacans.
In conclusion, Steamboat Landing is a geographic location and a chronicle of Ithaca’s journey through time. Through its transformation, it has become a place where history breathes, nature speaks, and the community finds its heartbeat. It stands as a beacon of heritage, recreation, and beauty—a corner of the world where past and present dance together in harmony.
Michael Stephen Wills Photography 