Tag: natural beauty

Ode to a January Sunrise at Cocoa Beach

Awake to the radiant grace of dawn, where golden light adorns the sky and the ocean reflects its splendor. Witness the serene dance of nature in a peaceful, inspiring January sunrise at Cocoa Beach.

MichaelStephenWills6 Comments

Awake, my soul, to morning’s radiant grace, as dawn’s first light adorns the sky’s embrace. Behold the scene where heaven meets the sea, a tapestry of hues, divinely free.

The eastern sky ignites with golden fire, each ray a herald of the sun’s desire. In softest pinks and boldest crimsons cast, the night retreats, and day arrives at last.

The ocean, kissed by dawn’s ethereal light, reflects the splendor of the coming sight. Waves gently lap upon the sandy shore; their whispered secrets speak of days of yore.

The palm trees sway in rhythmic, gentle dance, their silhouettes in morning’s light enhance. A peaceful stillness wraps the world in awe, as nature’s beauty strikes the heart with awe.

The scattered clouds, with edges tinged in gold, Frame the horizon as the day unfolds. They drift like dreams upon the waking breeze, in harmony with rustling leaves of trees.

And as the sun ascends its royal throne, Its warmth and light through every vein is known. A new day born, with promise in its wake, invites the heart to rise and dreams to take.

Imagine, seagulls soar on wings of pure delight, their cries a chorus to the morning’s light. They glide and dive with effortless grace, their freedom echoes in this sacred space.

On distant sands, the footprints of the few mark early risers greeting morning’s hue. Their presence, fleeting, soon to be erased, by tides that sweep the shore in gentle haste.

Oh, glorious dawn, thy beauty so profound, Inspire the soul where peace and love abound. Let hearts be lifted by thy gentle hand, to cherish all that’s wondrous in this land.

For in this moment, all the world is still, the chaos of the night’s dark dreams to kill. A symphony of light and life begins, as morning’s joy through every fiber sings.

So let us honor this celestial show, where sky and sea in radiant colors glow. In silent reverence, we stand and gaze, at dawn’s first light, and marvel at its blaze.

Awake, my soul, and bask in morning’s gleam, embrace the beauty of this waking dream. For in the sunrise, hope and peace reside, a timeless gift the heavens do provide.

Copyright 2024 Michael Stephen Wills All Rights Reserved

The Wonder of Penstemon hirsutus in Treman Gorge

Discover the enchanting Hairy Beardtongue nestled in Treman Gorge. Learn about its striking lavender blooms, unique adaptations, and fascinating history in our latest nature exploration. Dive into the beauty of Penstemon hirsutus!

MichaelStephenWills5 Comments

On a sunny day at the end of May 2024, I embarked on one of my cherished walks through Robert H. Treman Park, located in the heart of Ithaca, New York. The park, with its stunning gorges and waterfalls, never ceases to amaze me with its natural beauty and diverse plant life. This time, my exploration led me to a delightful discovery along the south-facing walls of Treman Gorge: Penstemon hirsutus, commonly known as the Hairy Beardtongue.

As I navigated the rocky terrain, my attention was caught by a cluster of delicate, tubular flowers emerging from the crevices of the gorge walls. Their soft lavender hues stood out against the rugged backdrop of moss-covered rocks and shale. Upon closer inspection, I noticed the characteristic hairy stems and leaves, confirming that I had indeed found Penstemon hirsutus.

Penstemon hirsutus is a perennial herbaceous plant native to eastern North America. It typically reaches a height of 1 to 3 feet, with erect stems covered in fine hairs. The leaves are lanceolate, arranged oppositely along the stem, and also bear a slight fuzziness. The flowers, which bloom from late spring to early summer, are tubular and two-lipped, resembling a small beard—a feature that likely inspired the common name “Beardtongue.” Each flower is about 1 to 1.5 inches long, with a delicate lavender color that fades to white at the throat.

The genus name “Penstemon” is derived from the Greek words “pente,” meaning five, and “stemon,” meaning stamen, referring to the plant’s five stamens—four fertile and one sterile, the latter often appearing as a small, hairy tongue within the flower. The species name “hirsutus” comes from Latin, meaning hairy, a nod to the plant’s hirsute stems and leaves.

The Hairy Beardtongue thrives in well-drained soils and can often be found in rocky, open woodlands, meadows, and along cliffs—exactly the kind of environment provided by Treman Gorge. This plant is well-adapted to the microhabitats created by the gorge’s south-facing walls, where sunlight and moisture create ideal growing conditions. The rock walls not only offer physical support but also help retain heat and moisture, creating a microclimate that supports a variety of plant species.

Historically, Penstemon hirsutus and its relatives have been valued for their ornamental beauty and ecological benefits. The flowers attract a variety of pollinators, including bees, butterflies, and hummingbirds, making them an important component of the local ecosystem. Native Americans also recognized the medicinal properties of some Penstemon species, using them to treat ailments such as toothaches, sore throats, and respiratory issues.

In recent times, gardeners and horticulturists have come to appreciate Penstemon hirsutus for its hardiness and low maintenance requirements. It is often used in native plant gardens, rock gardens, and naturalized areas to add a touch of wild beauty. The plant’s ability to thrive in poor soils and its resistance to deer browsing make it a valuable addition to any garden aiming to support local wildlife and biodiversity.

Finding the Hairy Beardtongue in Treman Gorge was a moment of pure joy and wonder. It reminded me of the resilience and adaptability of nature, as this delicate yet sturdy plant has carved out a niche for itself in the rocky walls of the gorge. The sight of its soft lavender blooms swaying gently in the breeze was a testament to the beauty and tenacity of life in even the most rugged environments.

As I continued my hike, I felt a renewed sense of connection to the natural world. The discovery of Penstemon hirsutus was not just a botanical find but a reminder of the intricate and interconnected web of life that thrives in Treman Gorge. Each plant, each flower, has a story to tell—a story of survival, adaptation, and beauty that enriches our understanding of the natural world and our place within it.

Copyright 2024 Michael Stephen Wills All Rights Reserved

Twilight Serenade: Experiencing the Eclipse Amidst Nature’s Splendor

Step into the enchanting world of the VanRiper Conservation Area during a total solar eclipse. Witness nature’s grand spectacle, where daylight fades into an ethereal twilight, and the cosmos whispers secrets to those who listen.

MichaelStephenWills15 Comments

Standing within the serenity of the VanRiper Conservation Area, we had the rare privilege to witness a celestial marvel—the total solar eclipse. The coordinates, 42°43’8.62″N 76°45’30.41″W, marked not a unique vantage point on the southern edge of the total eclipse zone. Here, the total eclipse enveloped the sky for an awe-inspiring 50 seconds, a fleeting yet unforgettable spectacle that we were fortunate enough to experience.

The VanRiper Conservation Area served as a magnificent backdrop to this astronomical event. Known for its diverse habitats, including wetlands, forests, and meadows, the area is a haven for wildlife and a sanctuary for those who seek solace in nature; a place where the sky seems vast, unobstructed by the trappings of urban life, offering a clear canvas for the eclipse to paint its momentary magic.

13:38:07, 39 minutes 41 seconds before the moon’s edge touched the sun. From the shoreline of VanRipen Conservation Area, Town of Romulus, Seneca County, Finger Lakes Region, New York State

As the time for the eclipse approached, a thick blanket of clouds enveloped the sky, obscuring our view of the sun entirely. This unexpected veil not only robbed us of the celestial spectacle but also intensified the darkness, casting a deeper shadow over the landscape and amplifying the surreal, twilight ambiance.

As the moon began its slow sweep over the sun, an eerie twilight descended upon the conservation area. The temperature dropped noticeably, a testament to the sun’s masked radiance. The birds, momentarily confused by the sudden dusk, fell silent, heightening the surreal atmosphere. This was the moment I had been waiting for, the total eclipse, where day momentarily turns to night, and the ordinary becomes extraordinary.

15:21:37, 56 seconds to totality. From the shoreline of VanRipen Conservation Area, Town of Romulus, Seneca County, Finger Lakes Region, New York State

Positioned on the southern edge of the total eclipse zone, I observed a fascinating phenomenon: the southern side of the horizon retained a brighter hue compared to the north, which veiled itself in deeper shades of twilight. This luminous gradient painted across the sky was a direct consequence of our location’s proximity to the eclipse’s path of totality.

In this captivating 4-minute YouTube video, you’re whisked away to the shores of Cayuga Lake, beneath a cloudy sky, on the day of the Total Eclipse, April 8, 2024 viewed from the VanRiper Conservation Area Cayuga Lake Shoreline in the town of Romulus, Seneca County of the Finger Lakes of New York State. As the moon dances across the sun at 5 times normal speed you witness the gradual darkening of the lake. On the opposite shore, the town of Aurora lights wink with the total eclipse of the sun. In normal time Loons herald the Sun’s return with a bright and eerie serenade, a natural symphony celebrating light’s triumph over darkness. Join us on this remarkable journey, where day turns to night and back again, all within the embrace of the Finger Lakes Region.

The totality lasted for a mere 50 seconds, when time seemed to stand still, yet it was a period rich with emotion and wonder. To witness the total eclipse was to see the universe align in a rare spectacle of shadow and light, a reminder of our place in the cosmos.

Reflecting on the experience, the VanRiper Conservation Area was a portal to a deeper understanding and appreciation of the natural world. Its untouched Cayuga Lake shoreline provided a setting for observing the eclipse with a reminder of the beauty and fragility of our planet.

As the eclipse passed and daylight returned the silence was filled with Loon calls, a celebration of life and the return of light. The solar eclipse was a convergence of time, place, and celestial mechanics, offering a spectacle for the eyes, a moment of introspection about our existence in this vast universe: a reminder of the ephemeral nature of life and the enduring awe of the cosmos. In the heart of the conservation area, I stood at the crossroads of science, nature, and spirituality, left to reflect on the dance of shadows and light.

Copyright 2024 Michael Stephen Wills All Rights Reserved

Tuxedos on Tour: Three Majestic Mergansers

Join the escapade as you witness three majestic Mergansers, donning nature’s finest tuxedos, in a graceful ballet on the springtime stage of Cayuga Lake.

MichaelStephenWills4 Comments

As you gaze upon these three fine feathered fellows, all members of the exclusive Common Merganser men’s club, they seem to glide upon the watery stage of Cayuga Lake with all the confidence of Broadway stars on opening night. They are the aquatic equivalent of a sharply dressed barbershop quartet, minus one, in their matching tuxedos, ready to sing the springtime serenade of their species.

The chap at the forefront is Captain Black-Crest, sporting a glossy noggin that shimmers with an inner light, undoubtedly the envy of every duck on the pond. He’s streamlined and debonair, with a white body that’s as crisp as the first snowfall and a dark back that’s as sleek as a shadow in moonlight. If ducks had monocles and top hats, he’d be first in line.

In the middle, there’s Sir Dapper-Diver, a mirror image of his companion, with a neck as white as the driven snow and a dignified black back that gleams like polished onyx in the dappled sunlight. He’s the quiet achiever of the group, poised and ready to make the plunge into the depths below, proving that style need not be sacrificed for substance.

And to the right, meet Admiral Feather-Finesse. His poise on the water suggests a mastery of the waves, a commander of the current. He carries his elegant attire with an air of grace that only comes with a natural pedigree. In synchronized perfection, he and his brethren form a regatta of refinement, a display of nature’s own black-tie affair.

These are male Common Merganser (Mergus merganser) in breeding plumage, characterized the body white with a variable salmon-pink tinge, the head black with an iridescent green gloss, the rump and tail grey, and the wings largely white on the inner half, black on the outer half. Like the other mergansers, these piscivorous ducks have serrated edges to their bills to help them grip their prey, so they are often known as “sawbills”. In addition to fish, they take a wide range of other aquatic prey, such as molluscs, crustaceans, worms, insect larvae, and amphibians; more rarely, small mammals and birds may be taken. As in other birds with the character, the salmon-pink tinge shown variably by males is probably diet-related, obtained from the carotenoid pigments present in some crustaceans and fish. When not diving for food, they are usually seen swimming on the water surface, or resting on rocks in midstream or hidden among riverbank vegetation, or (in winter) on the edge of floating ice.

Together, these three Common Mergansers (Mergus merganser) in their prime are a trifecta of elegance, a testament to the timeless beauty found in nature’s simplicity. They paddle forth with purpose, their matching plumage a striking contrast to the rippling blues and grays of the water, a parade of poise and plumage that delights the observant eye.

So, dear reader, as you observe this photo, take a moment to appreciate the charming uniformity and the subtle quirks that make each bird, despite their shared wardrobe, uniquely magnificent. It’s a snapshot of life at its most graceful, a picture worth far more than a mere thousand words.

Copyright 2024 Michael Stephen Wills All Rights Reserved

A Path Lined with Promise: Spring’s Embrace in Ithaca

Happy April 1, 2024

MichaelStephenWills15 Comments

You find yourself on the cusp of spring, the earth slowly awakens from its wintery slumber, and life begins to stir in the subtlest of forms. Imagine strolling through a park in Ithaca, the evidence of spring’s tender handiwork unfolding before your eyes. As you traverse this liminal space where the grey of winter meets the vibrant hues of spring, you are greeted by a cheerful brigade of daffodils, a sure harbinger of warmer days.

These daffodils are blooming along the Cayuga Waterfront Trail within Cass Park, Ithaca, Tompkins County, New York

Through the above image, it’s as though you are leaning in, your gaze just inches above the blooms. These daffodils are not merely flowers; they are the golden trumpets of spring, each one a burst of joy amidst the still-dormant earth. You can almost feel the softness of the petals, the coolness of the air, and the promise of renewal that each bud encapsulates. With their faces eager to bask in the strengthening sun, they seem to resonate with your own readiness for change, for the fresh possibilities that each new season brings.

As you stand up and take a few steps back, the following image grants you a wider perspective. Here lies a path, winding gently alongside a burgeoning line of daffodils. They stand in unity, a vivid yellow line drawn against the canvas of awakening green. The bench in the distance is vacant, an invitation to sit and appreciate the tranquility of Cass Park, the expanse of water beyond serving as a mirror to the open sky. It’s a scene that calls for contemplation, urging you to appreciate the simplicity of the moment, the serenity of nature’s process.

These daffodils are blooming along the Cayuga Waterfront Trail within Cass Park. Here the trail has passed over Linderman Creek and we are looking toward the Cayuga Lake inlet. Ithaca, Tompkins County, New York

These photographs are more than visual delights; they’re sensory experiences. Can you hear the subtle sounds of the park? The distant call of birds returning home, the soft rustle of grass stirred by a gentle breeze, the hushed murmur of water lapping at the shore? Each sound is a note in the symphony of spring, played just for you.

The images you see are not frozen in time; they carry within them a narrative of life’s perseverance. The daffodils, with their bright faces and sturdy stems, have weathered the cold, the snow, and the frost. They emerge, not just as survivors of winter, but as its conquerors. Each flower is a testament to resilience, a living metaphor for the human spirit that you, too, possess.

This is the season of rejuvenation, where the old is shed, and the new embraced. With each day, the sun lingers a bit longer, casting its golden glow upon the earth. It’s the time to set aside the grayness of yesterday and look forward to the spectrum of tomorrow. The photographs are not just to be viewed; they are to be felt, to remind you that no winter lasts forever, no spring skips its turn.

As you walk away from this scene, you carry with you the warmth of the sun and the cheer of the daffodils. Let the images serve as a reminder of the perennial cycle of life, the undying hope, and the enduring beauty that awaits just outside your door. Feel encouraged to seek these moments, these fragments of beauty, in your everyday wanderings, and hold onto the message of the daffodils: after every winter, no matter how harsh, comes the gentle kiss of spring.

Copyright 2024 Michael Stephen Wills All Rights Reserved

Nature’s First Green….

…is gold, / her hardest hue to hold, / her early leaf’s a flower; / but only so an hour… Robert Frost

MichaelStephenWills4 Comments

You walk alone by the waters of Cayuga Lake in Stewart Park, nestled in the heart of Ithaca’s Finger Lakes, where Salix alba, the white willow, stands proudly along the shoreline. You’re immediately drawn to the flurry of yellow flowers, a stark contrast to the still chilly early March air.

The white willow (Salix alba), with its rough, gray bark, is beginning to dress in its spring finery, its branches teeming with tiny, starburst-like flowers. Each one is a miniature sun, casting a glow against the intricate lattice of branches. These aren’t the soft catkins of the pussy willow but the yellow inflorescences that are characteristic of the white willow’s early bloom, a signpost that winter’s grip is loosening.

These trees, you learn, are dioecious, with separate male and female trees. The blossoms you see are likely the male flowers, their stamens dusting your fingers with pollen as you brush against them. It’s this pollen that will soon beckon the bees, urging them to emerge from their hives and begin the work that sustains the ecosystem. You can almost hear the faint buzz, a prelude to the symphony of life that summer will bring. Return in midsummer to find the female catkins comprise numerous small (4 mm) capsules, each containing numerous minute seeds embedded in silky white hairs, which aids wind dispersal.

As you wander further, you note the presence of the white willow’s kin, other deciduous companions some still bare and stretching into the sky and others leafing out. You stand there, at the cusp of seasonal change, where the slumbering trees are on the verge of awakening, and you feel a kinship with them. Like these trees, you have weathered the cold, dark months, and now you stand poised to greet the renewal that comes with spring.

The stark, knotted forms of the white willow branches against the clear sky speak to you of endurance and resilience. These trees have weathered storms and droughts; they have been companions to the lake, mirrors to its moods, and now they are beginning to celebrate the cycle of rebirth and growth.

You take a seat on a bench, the cool wood through your clothes a reminder of the lingering winter. You gaze out across the lake, the water reflecting the brilliance of the sun like a vast, rippling mirror, framed by the elegant silhouettes of the white willows. You feel the peace of the park seep into you, the slow, rhythmic lapping of the water syncing with your breath.

This is a moment of transition, from the sleeping to the awakening world. You think about the Salix alba, how its presence here is a testament to nature’s adaptability, thriving in the moist soil by the lake, offering shade in summer and shelter in winter, its branches a playground for the winds.

As you leave Stewart Park, you take with you the memory of the white willows in early March, the quiet guardians of Cayuga Lake. They remind you of the enduring beauty of nature, the seamless flow from one season to the next, and the quiet joy of standing witness to the first whispers of spring on the shores of the Finger Lakes.

Copyright 2024 Michael Stephen Wills All Rights Reserved

Dueling Songbirds

Witness a duel not of might, but of vibrant melodies between the cardinal and song sparrow. This 14-second video captures a fleeting yet profound moment in the Finger Lakes’ springtime chorus. Join us in unraveling the significance behind this avian serenade.

MichaelStephenWills11 Comments

In the serene backdrop of the Finger Lakes in upstate New York, an enchanting encounter unfolds as the first whispers of spring touch the air. It’s March 14th, a day that marks the gentle shift from the silent, introspective winter to the lively, expressive season of spring. On this day, a captivating spectacle takes place — a duel not of might, but of melody. Two distinguished songbirds, a male cardinal (Cardinalis cardinalis) with its vibrant red plumage that seems to capture the very essence of life itself, and a male song sparrow (Melospiza melodia), modest in color yet profound in voice, engage in an early springtime symphony.

This 14-second video, garnished with brevity, captures a fleeting moment in nature’s grand concert, where these feathered musicians compete, not for supremacy, but for the sheer joy of song and the chance to herald the new season. The cardinal, with its rich, whistling tunes, fills the air with a repertoire of songs that resonate with the promise of new beginnings. Meanwhile, the song sparrow, with its intricate melodies that vary dramatically from bird to bird, offers a counterpoint that is both complex and captivating.

This auditory duel, set against the tranquil beauty of the Finger Lakes, is more than just a display of vocal prowess. It’s a ritual that speaks to the heart of nature’s cycle, a testament to the resilience and adaptability of these species. As these songbirds vie for the attention of mates and assert their presence in the spring landscape, they also remind us of the enduring beauty and mystery of the natural world. You’ll also catch the call of a crow and, in the distance, another Cardinal.

This moment, brief yet infinitely rich, invites us to pause and listen, to lose ourselves in the simple yet profound joy of birdsong. It’s a reminder that, even in the quietest corners of the world, life thrums with vibrancy and the promise of renewal. Join us as we delve into the story behind this melodic encounter, exploring the significance of song in the lives of these birds and the heralding of spring in the Finger Lakes.

Copyright 2024 Michael Stephen Wills All Rights Reserved

Avian Exploration

Join us in the tranquility of Merritt Island National Wildlife Refuge as we observed avian life, reflecting on nature’s beauty and resilience.

MichaelStephenWills2 Comments

As my wife, Pam, and I entered the breezy expanse of the Merritt Island National Wildlife Refuge, the world seemed to slow down, allowing us to savor every moment of my journey along Blackpoint Drive. The sky, a sprawling canvas of muted greys, reflected in the wind ruffled waters, enhancing the tranquility of this haven.

Our first encounter was with the elegant Roseate Spoonbills (Platalea ajaja), their vibrant pink feathers a stark contrast against the earthy tones of the marsh. They waded with purpose, their spoon-shaped bills sifting through the water, a dance of survival that was both methodical and beautiful.

In the company of the spoonbills were the stoic Great Egrets (Ardea alba), statuesque in their white plumage. They stood motionless, like sentinels guarding the water’s edge, only to strike with lightning speed when prey ventured too close.

We watched as the Glossy Ibises (Plegadis falcinellus) dipped their curved bills into the water, each movement a study of precision, their dark feathers glistening with an iridescent sheen when caught by the light.

Amongst these avian aristocrats, the unassuming American White Ibises (Eudocimus albus) went about their business. Their red beaks probed the shallows, unperturbed by the presence of their more colorful neighbors or by my watchful eyes.

As we ventured further, the landscape shifted, the water opening up to reveal a gathering of Spoonbills and White Ibises, a community united by the need to feed and the safety of numbers. The occasional flap of wings and contented calls created a symphony that celebrated life in these wetlands.

Isolation took on a new meaning when I spotted a solitary Roseate Spoonbill, its reflection a perfect mirror image on the water’s surface. It was a moment of quiet introspection, the bird and I alone in our thoughts.

Another scene captured my attention as a single spoonbill foraged alongside a Glossy Ibis. The two species, different in appearance and yet similar in their quest for sustenance, shared the space in harmonious coexistence.

Further along, the vista opened up, and we were greeted by a panoramic view of spoonbills dotted along the distant shoreline, the greenery forming a lush backdrop to their pink hues. The expanse of the refuge unfolded before me, a reminder of the vastness and the wild beauty that had drawn us here.

On another stretch, the spoonbills perched in the green embrace of the mangroves, their pink feathers a burst of color among the leaves. It was a scene of natural artistry, the birds blending yet standing out against their verdant stage.

In the final leg of our journey, I found spoonbills perched high in the shrubbery, a testament to the refuge’s diversity. Even in the dense foliage, life thrived, and these birds, usually seen wading, now adorned the treetops like living ornaments.

This drive along Blackpoint was more than a mere observation; it was a passage through a world where time held little sway, and nature was the sole architect. Each bird, each ripple on the water, and each whisper of the grass told a story of existence, resilience, and the intricate web of life. Here, in this secluded corner of the world, we found a connection to the earth and its inhabitants that would stay with us long after.

Copyright 2024 Michael Stephen Wills All Rights Reserved

Otherworldly Assembly?

On the winding Blackpoint Wildlife Drive, Pam and I were spellbound by a ballet of Roseate Spoonbills and Wood Storks, a wild canvas coming alive, revealing the magic bestowed by our cherished Senior Passport

MichaelStephenWills6 Comments

As Pam and I embarked on our journey along the Blackpoint Wildlife Drive we found ourselves privy to an otherworldly marshland assembly. Our eyes were drawn to the stately Wood Storks, or Mycteria americana, standing with a poise that belied their somewhat awkward appearance. Their towering figures were hunched in contemplation, their bald heads surveying the waters for a potential feast.

Beside them Roseate Spoonbills (Platalea ajaja) painted the landscape with strokes of vivid pink. Their spoon-shaped bills, an evolutionary masterpiece, skimmed the shallow waters. It was a delightful contrast, the elegant pink plumage among the grasses, like a splash of paint on a raw canvas.

Companion to these gentle giants, the diminutive Tricolored Heron, Egretta tricolor, stalked the shallows. Its slender form was a study in grace, and the blue-gray feathers shimmered with a hint of lavender as it moved with stealthy precision, a silent hunter amidst the reeds.

The discovery felt like stumbling upon a secret meeting, a council of the feathered kind, where each bird played its role in the delicate balance of the ecosystem. Pam and I shared a look of awe, our whispered words lost in the gentle rustling of the wind. There was a sense of unity, of different species coexisting in harmony, and we were the transient witnesses to their world.

Our journey within Merritt Island National Wildlife Refuge was not just a passage through land but through time. Each turn of the drive revealed another chapter of this living story, and our hearts raced with the excitement of what we might find next. The National Park Service Senior Passport, which we clutched like a treasure map, granted us the privilege to explore this bounty of nature. It was more than a pass; it was a key to worlds unseen and adventures untold.

As senior citizens, this passport to nature’s sanctuaries was a reminder that wonderment has no age. It afforded us the freedom to explore, to learn, and to lose ourselves in the beauty of our nation’s natural heritage. Each stamp in our passport was not just a mark of where we had been, but a memory etched into our lives, a story waiting to be told.

This drive, with Pam by my side, was more than birdwatching. We communicated with nature, laying testament to the beauty that lay in the simple things, the everyday miracles of life that often go unnoticed. We left the Blackpoint Wildlife Drive with a renewed sense of purpose and a reminder of our place in this vast, interconnected web of life.

We returned home with our spirits lifted and our minds filled with the colors of the birds—the Wood Storks, the Roseate Spoonbills, the Tricolored Heron—and the many unnamed creatures that had crossed our paths. It was a mosaic of life, each creature a piece that completed this intricate puzzle of existence. Our encounter with this unusual congregation was a gift, a moment of pure, unadulterated joy, a chapter in our ongoing adventure, one we would recount with smiles and a sparkle in our eyes for years to come.

Copyright 2024 Michael Stephen Wills All Rights Reserved

Above the Finger Lakes: A Winter’s Eve Flight

Joint me to gaze out upon a mesmerizing view of winter’s embrace over the Finger Lakes, where the setting sun paints an ephemeral masterpiece of ice, water, and twiligh

MichaelStephenWills15 Comments

 

As I soared into the heavens, bound for Syracuse on the 9th of February in the year 2024, I found myself cradled in the gentle embrace of the port side of our metal chariot. The world unfolded beneath me; a tapestry of natural splendor painted in the golden hues of the setting sun. The view to the west, a grand panorama, beckoned my gaze, luring my senses into the wild embrace of Upstate New York’s finest landscapes.

 

Flying into Syracuse, February 9, 2024 we sat on the left (port) side of plane, this view to the west took in Canandaigua Lake, Bristol Mountain Ski Area, Honeoye Lake, Hemlock Lake (Canadice Lake is not visible).

 

Below, Canandaigua Lake lay stretched out like a slumbering giant, its waters glistening with the last kisses of daylight, a mirror to the sky’s fiery canvas. How wondrous it was to perceive the world from such heights, to witness the lake’s serenity from the abode of the gods. It seemed as if Canandaigua herself was remembering whispered tales of ice fishermen and quiet boathouses locked in the winter’s frosty grasp.

Off to the south, the proud shoulders of Bristol Mountain Ski Area rose in defiance against the winter’s chill. The mountain’s snow-laden slopes, carved with the meticulous precision of skiers and snowboarders, reflected the sun’s dying light, a beacon of winter’s joy amidst the sprawling lands. I could almost hear the muffled laughter of families and the swish of skis carving their ephemeral signature upon the mountain’s white canvas.

Nestled in the mountain’s shadow, Honeoye Lake revealed itself, a slender and unassuming sliver of tranquility. Its presence was like that of a quiet companion amidst the grandeur, a reminder of the simpler pleasures—frozen waters awaiting the spring thaw, the promise of lush greenery peering from beneath the white shroud of winter.

Beyond, where the earth kissed the sky, Hemlock Lake offered its secluded beauty, a hidden gem amongst its more renowned siblings. Though Canadice Lake remained shyly concealed from view, I knew it too slumbered there, a silent sentinel guarding the land’s secrets. Together, these lakes stood as custodians of a silent world, the guardians of a tranquility that seemed untouched by the passage of time.

As the plane banked gently, the clouds above me caught fire, ablaze with the colors of the dying day. Wisps of vapor painted streaks of orange, purple, and pink across the expansive canvas, a celestial masterpiece unfolding before my very eyes. The clouds seemed to dance with the joy of existence, a choreographed performance to the symphony of the setting sun.

I found myself lost in the moment, a solitary figure suspended between heaven and earth, caught in the embrace of an ephemeral beauty. The world below whispered of untold stories, of winters past and springs to come, of the endless cycle of life that pulsed beneath the frost. It was a moment of profound connection, a fleeting communion with the heartbeat of the planet.