A Late Winter Walk Through Cornell University Campus

Explore a late winter walk through Cornell University’s scenic campus, discovering blooming snowdrops, historic landmarks, and the striking “Magna Dancer” sculpture. Uncover the beauty and heritage captured in each step of this serene journey.


On the late winter afternoon of March 1, 2024, I decided to take a long walk starting from Cascadilla Park Road, making my way up through the Cornell University campus, and ending at Fall Creek near the Mundy Wildflower Garden before returning to my starting point. The sun was shining brightly, casting long shadows, and the crisp air was filled with a hint of spring. Carrying an Apple IPhone 14 Pro Max smartphone, I set off to capture the beauty and essence of this serene day.

Starting Point: Cascadilla Park Road

The walk began on Cascadilla Park Road, where I was greeted by a delightful patch of snowdrops (Galanthus nivalis) nestled among the glossy green leaves of periwinkle (Vinca minor). These delicate white flowers, blooming despite the chill, were a hopeful sign of the approaching spring. Their pristine petals contrasted beautifully with the dark, shiny leaves, creating a picturesque start to my journey.

These flowers were found in a garden on Cascadilla Park Road, Ithaca, March 1, 2024. Snowdrops (Galanthus nivalis) are among the first flowers to bloom in late winter and early spring, often pushing up through the snow. These plants are known for their nodding, white, bell-shaped flowers and are a common sight in gardens during this time of year. The glossy green leaves belong to a plant known as Periwinkle (Vinca minor). Periwinkle is a popular ground cover plant, often found in gardens due to its ability to spread quickly and form a dense mat of evergreen foliage. It typically has glossy, dark green leaves and produces small, blue or purple star-shaped flowers in the spring.

Climbing the Steps to Steps to Myron Taylor Hall

My path led me up flights of granite steps toward Myron Taylor Hall. As I climbed, I could feel the history and tradition of Cornell University enveloping me. The McGraw Tower bells chimed softly, adding a melodic backdrop to my ascent.

Steep steps leading from a parking lot off West Avenue to the Cornell Law School (Myron Taylor Hall).

Discovering “Magna Dancer”

Reaching the top of the steps, I encountered, at the entrance to Hughes Hall museum, the striking “Magna Dancer” sculpture by Arline Peartree. Its bold red forms stood out vividly against the backdrop of the historic stone buildings. The plaque at the base provided a glimpse into its significance, commemorating the contributions of Cornell alumni. The sculpture’s dynamic lines and vibrant color injected a sense of modernity into the historic setting.

“Magna Dancer” steel and enamel sculpture, 1992 by Arline Peartree. Plaque on the sculpture plinth located outside Hughes Hall (behind Myron Taylor Hall – Cornell Law School), 241 Campus Road

Winter Buds and the Robinson Herb Garden

Here, I passed through the Robinson Herb Garden, where the late winter buds of a Cornelian Cherry Dogwood (Cornus mas) were beginning to unfurl. These bright yellow clusters heralded the arrival of spring, standing out against the bare branches and muted tones of the garden. It was a reminder of the cyclical nature of life and the resilience of the natural world.

The tree in the photograph with the yellow buds is a Cornelian Cherry Dogwood (Cornus mas). It is one of the first trees to bloom in late winter to early spring, producing clusters of small, bright yellow flowers before the leaves emerge. Cornelian Cherry Dogwood is often used in landscapes and gardens for its early bloom and attractive appearance. This tree grown in the Robinson Herb Garden, Cornell University

Mundy Wildflower Garden and Fall Creek

At Mundy Wildflower Garden, a hidden gem nestled beside Fall Creek, the landscape transformed into a tranquil haven, with the gentle sound of water flowing nearby. Though it was still early in the season, the promise of blooming wildflowers lingered in the air. The garden’s carefully maintained paths and rustic benches invited quiet contemplation.

These steps lead from the Robison New York State Herb Garden to Judd Falls Road and the Mundy Wildflower Garden

Exploring the Common Ferns Display

As I ventured further, I came across a display showcasing common ferns. The display included photographs and names of various ferns, such as the Christmas Fern (Polystichum acrostichoides) and Goldie’s Fern (Dryopteris goldiana). This educational exhibit was both informative and visually appealing, highlighting the diverse flora found on the campus.

Displayed on a display in the Mundy Wildflower Garden, part of Cornell (University) Botanical Gardens.

Observing the Weather Station

Nearby, a weather station stood tall, equipped with various sensors to monitor climate conditions. A sign explained its purpose: to help understand how climate change is affecting plants in the area. The data collected here would provide valuable insights into the phenological changes occurring within the garden.

Traversing the Slope to Olin Library

Returning, I made my way toward Olin Library. The path took me along a steep incline, “Lib Hill,” where I could see the stark branches of deciduous trees reaching toward the sky. The steps seemed to stretch endlessly upward, mirroring the journey of knowledge that students undertake within the library’s walls. The modern architecture of the library contrasted sharply with the surrounding natural landscape, symbolizing the intersection of nature and human achievement.

Approaching McGraw Tower

As I neared the heart of the campus, the McGraw Tower stood tall and prominent, albeit encased in scaffolding for restoration work. The historic building, with its distinctive clock face, was an emblem of Cornell’s rich heritage. Despite the scaffolding, the tower retained its majestic presence, a testament to the ongoing efforts to preserve its legacy.

This view is from Central Avenue. Morrill Hall is on the left. The tower is part of Uris Library. Cornell University, Ithaca, Tompkins County, New York State

Returning to Cascadilla Park Road

As descended the hill, following Cascadilla Creek, reflecting on the six mile journey, I felt a profound connection to the enduring beauty and resilience of both nature and human creativity. The walk had taken me through time and space, from historic landmarks to natural wonders, each step revealing a new facet of the Cornell University campus.

Reflecting on History

My walk took me past a plaque commemorating the site of the first settlers’ log cabin in Tompkins County, built in 1788. The plaque, erected by the Cayuga Chapter D.A.R. in 1927, was a poignant reminder of the area’s deep-rooted history and the pioneering spirit that shaped it.

This plaque on the corner of University Avenue and Cascadilla Park Road Road, “Near this spot in 1788 a log cabin was built by the first settlers of Tompkins County — Peter Hinepaw, Isaac Dumond, Jacob Yaples. Erected by Cayuga Chapter Daughters of the American Revolution 1927

This late winter walk, captured through my lens, was a celebration of the quiet splendor of the season and the enduring spirit of a place that thrives on discovery and growth.

Copyright 2024 Michael Stephen Wills All Rights Reserved

The Joy of Adventure at Treetops

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

Wind Riders: A Seven-Year Saga of Beach and Ocean Kiteboarders

Embark on a journey with kiteboarders who harness the wind and surf, mastering both beach and ocean. Witness the evolution of this thrilling sport over seven years, from the sandy shore to the open waves.

Cocoa Beach, with its rhythmic waves, is a destination that stirs a sense of adventure. Seven years ago, March 2017, as I strolled along its sandy shores, my attention was captured by a curious sight: several people gliding effortlessly across the beach, seemingly with the wind at their command. These weren’t your typical surfers or skateboarders—they were kiteboarders, harnessing the power of the wind with large kites that stretched high into the sky. I was transfixed by the sight of their wheels skimming along the wet sand, leaving tracks like an artist’s brushstroke on a canvas.

The beach was alive with energy. The wind, the driving force behind the kiteboarders, was gusty, rippling the surface of the ocean and creating perfect waves for surfers. But the kiteboarders were on a different mission. They had wheels attached to large boards, akin to skateboards but bulkier. They wore helmets and pads, visibly prepared for a sport that seemed to demand not just skill but a dose of courage.

One rider caught my eye, with his bright blue helmet and focused gaze. He adjusted the lines of his kite like a master puppeteer, maneuvering himself with precision as he glided along the shore. The kite seemed an extension of his own limbs, responding seamlessly to his every movement. It was exhilarating to watch, the kite’s taut lines tracing invisible patterns in the sky as he shifted his weight, steering the board with expertise. With each gust of wind, he picked up speed, racing along the shore with a grin that spoke of pure joy.

Not far from him, a second kiteboarder, a woman, was testing her skills. Her kite had a distinct red pattern, vibrant against the backdrop of the sky. She handled it with ease, her body swaying in rhythm with the kite’s movements. It was like a dance, where the wind was both partner and lead, guiding her across the beach in wide arcs. Occasionally, she would glance over at the other riders, sharing nods of camaraderie that suggested a tight-knit community.

The sight reminded me of the joy of childhood, of riding bicycles down a hill, the wind whipping through your hair, feeling like you could conquer anything. But this was a more refined thrill, one that demanded an intimate understanding of nature’s forces. The kiteboarders were more than just athletes; they were artists painting their own masterpieces against the sky.

In the distance, I noticed a third rider. He was still finding his rhythm, his movements a little less sure, but the determination on his face was unmistakable. He kept his focus on the kite, battling the wind to gain control. Even as he stumbled a few times, his spirit didn’t falter. Each time he fell, he would rise, dust off the sand, and try again. It was a scene of persistence that spoke to the spirit of the sport—a reminder that mastery is not achieved without effort.

The sun began to dip toward the horizon, casting long shadows on the sand. The wind grew cooler, and the kiteboarders began to pack up their equipment. I found myself lingering a little longer, reflecting on what I had just witnessed. Kiteboarding seemed to embody the spirit of Cocoa Beach itself—a blend of adventure, community, and a deep connection with nature.

Walking away, I couldn’t help but feel inspired by their spirit of adventure. The kiteboarders had painted a vivid picture of resilience, joy, and the thrill of chasing the wind. They were, in a way, explorers charting a path on the very edge of land and sea, powered by nothing but wind and will.

Seven years later, this past winter of 2024, there was a kicking wind powering a group of three kiteboarders tackling the waves offshore, embracing the ocean waves in a spectacular display of skill.

Their kites stretched high against a steely sky, creating vibrant contrasts with their colorful patterns. One kiteboarder had a kite adorned in shades of turquoise, like a burst of sunlight riding the wind. He maneuvered deftly on the waves, rising high on the crest of each swell before swooping down into the troughs. His movements were fluid, and he rode each wave with a mastery that suggested years of experience.

The second rider, with a vivid blue kite, showed off his own skill set, to ride the waves with finesse, carving arcs through the water, creating a wake of white foam. He seemed almost weightless, gliding effortlessly, catching air whenever he hit a particularly high crest.

The third kiteboarder was the most daring of the trio, his kite blending with the overcast skt. He launched himself off the waves, soaring high into the air before coming down with a splash. Each leap seemed to defy gravity, and he twisted and turned in mid-air like an acrobat, displaying a level of athleticism that left the onlookers on the beach in awe. The wind and waves provided the perfect playground for his tricks, and he used every bit of it to his advantage.

The three kiteboarders moved in sync, communicating through gestures and nods, sometimes even shouting encouragement to each other over the sound of the crashing waves. They pushed one another to reach greater heights, to attempt more daring moves, and to revel in the shared joy of their sport. It was as if they were performing a choreographed routine, set to the rhythm of the sea.

Onlookers gathered along the shore, drawn by the mesmerizing sight of these kiteboarders taking on the ocean waves. The kiteboarders, with their vivid kites and breathtaking maneuvers, were like seagulls riding the wind, an exhilarating reminder of the power of nature and the joy of embracing it.

As the day wore on, the kiteboarders continued to ride the waves, their energy seemingly endless. The sea and sky were their canvas, and they painted across it in broad, sweeping strokes. Watching them was a thrilling reminder of the freedom and adventure that the ocean brings.

Copyright 2024 Michael Stephen Wills All Rights Reserved

Spring Outing IV

Turn to Light

Wildflowers flourished where the slope turned to the north and late afternoon light spread across the small ravine created by a small stream. This early in the season White Trillium buds were forming between three green bracts.

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The above photograph taken handheld with a variable zoom lens captures the plant and environment. On the forest floor is twig of hemlock, probably knocked off by squirrels feeding on the tiny cones. Oak leaves from last season frame the dark green bracts. We also see a few wintergreen leaves and the rich soil.

With the low light ISO is 2000, the f-stop of 5.6 allowed crisp details of the hemlock and wintergreen, the focus is soft on the oak leaves. Where is topography allowed sunlight, the White Trillium were a bit further along. Here is a bud opening.

Here I used a travel tripod and a macro lens with f-stop opened up to 3.2, not lens maximum, and all but the forward bract tip are in focus. A lower camera angle places surroundings in distance, allowing all to be blurred unrecognizable: the plant is the star of this shot. ISO 800 with the ample light. I was struggling with the spring breezes, having to wait for a break to take each exposure.

Copyright 2024 All Rights Reserved Michael Stephen Wills

Spring Outing III

Red Pine on the level

One hundred and fifty feet in a series of steep climbs is the effort expended to reach the relatively level portion of South Rim Trail where the tall Red Pines briefly reign. Here the trees thrive on the northeast facing slope. They grow in this way in one other location, in the upper park, on an eponymous trail.

Encounters with groups of people descending always demanded I step off the trail to allow social distancing. Everyone work a flimsy face covering, although Governor Coumo’s order covers situations where social distancing is not possible. As of you, we do not have the loose masks; but only the N95 or a full respirator (both acquired very early on, our respirators were purchased for spreading lawn chemicals and spray painting).

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Red Pine (Pinus resinosa), also know as Norway Pine, shed pollen prolifically. Some Aprils my boots are covered with it, a dusting of yellow. Not today.

A species easy to spot among the green, an example of a shrub of the genus Gaultheria, though a very small specimen. The common name is wintergreen and I have never found larger specimens in Treman park. It is growing among the mosses on the wall of Enfield Glen South Rim.

The tough wintergreen leaves endue the cold seasons, the name is synonymous with evergreen.

Both shots are handheld, the macro is from a 100 mm “macro” fixed focus lens. ISO 2500, the f-stop to be wide open at 2.8 to gather the sparse light and present the subjects, blurring the immediate background. The overview shot is also a high ISO, 2000, the f-stop 5.8 on a variable focus lens set to 60 mm.

Copyright 2024 All Rights Reserved Michael Stephen Wills

Spring Outing II

Lower Waterfall

This series of posts opens with the ascent to where the wildflowers grow.

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After just a taste of the climb to come, hikers are treated to an view of the Lower Falls of Enfield Creek. I call them the Wedding Cake. Summertime, a dam is erected, the water is deep enough to dive into the very cold creek water, lower than 70 degrees.

The trail is on a beetling crag.

Looking up Enfield Glen above the falls. Up to the trail, keeping distance was no problem. It is nowhere near as crowded as the trail to Taughannock Falls in February.

Copyright 2024 All Rights Reserved Michael Stephen Wills

Spring Outing I

Revisiting a Socially Distanced outing

Parks were open during Govenor Cuomo’s “New York State on PAUSE.” Still, as a member of the at-risk group I was reluctant to visit, unsure of how crowded it will be. On a Monday afternoon, bright with sun, I drove over to Robert H. Treman lower park to check out the situation.

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I carried the Sony in hand and packed in a Canon with macro lens and a Manfrotto travel tripod.

The path to a trail that climbs up the south side of Enfield Glen crosses Enfield Creek via a bridge, wends through cabins……

…..then heads up stairs that can seem to be forever. The green sign with white letters is new. This the South Rim Trail avoids the cliffs that make the Gorge trail so dangerous November through May.

Copyright 2024 All Rights Reserved Michael Stephen Wills

Up the Rim Trail

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.

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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.

Click for a slideshow of this Waterfall of the Old Mill sequence
Copyright 2024 All Rights Reserved Michael Stephen Wills

Ascent

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.

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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.

Click for a slideshow of this Fertile Flats sequence.
Copyright 2024 All Rights Reserved Michael Stephen Wills

Periwinkle

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.

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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.”

Click for a slideshow of this Fertile Flats sequence.
Copyright 2024 All Rights Reserved Michael Stephen Wills