11.13.21 ~ Saint Patrick Cemetery, Mystic, Connecticut
The interplay between light and the leaves when sunlight filters through trees. The Japanese have a word for it: komorebi. Every spring and autumn the wonderful quality of the sunlight surrounding the equinoxes makes our walks in the woods (or cemeteries) seem so enchanting, whether the leaves are on the ground, on the trees, or fluttering around in the air. It’s starting to dim now that we are closer to the winter solstice, but I thought I might squeeze in one last batch of leaf photos!
little splotch of sunlight
We came back to this cemetery after we discovered it a couple of weeks ago. It had lots of trees and natural beauty, set on the banks of the picturesque Mystic River. A wind and rain storm was due later in the afternoon and it was already getting breezy. The sky was still blue to the east and getting pretty gray to the west. Still, enough sun came out to play at times.
And all the lives we ever lived And all the lives to be Are full of trees and changing leaves. ~ Virginia Woolf (To the Lighthouse)
view across the Mystic River
I love autumn and winter more. Something opens up in me then ~ something soft and deep and glowing ~ which is far too shy to expose itself to the inexhaustible light of summer. ~ Sharon Blackie (The Enchanted Life, Unlocking the Magic of the Everyday)
a blue bike and a blue bug the license plate says “OLE BUG”
same driveway as seen in above picture
love this burnt orange color
Mystic River
a rare bit of red? or burnt orange?
stuck on the fence
another view across the Mystic River
木漏れ日 (koh-mo-reh-bee)
A couple of hours after we got home a quick but terribly windy thunderstorm with heavy rain passed through. Later we learned that four confirmed tornadoes had touched down in Connecticut! One of them was an EF-1 with estimated 90 mph winds in Stonington, about 15 miles to the east of us. The other three were farther away and were EF-0s. Tornadoes in November???
The four twisters that struck Connecticut are the only four on record to occur in the state during November and the most in the state in a single day since May 15, 2018. ~ Jacob Feuerstein (The Washington Post, November 14, 2021)
11.3.21 ~ house sparrow in the river birch tree outside my kitchen window
Now that some leaves have fallen off our tree we can see the little birds better from the kitchen window. We discovered a little nest deep in the branches. We are grateful to the tree for shading us from the hot sun all summer, and now with the leaves gone it will let some sunlight in to warm us up.
On Friday we decided to take a walk in the woods at a town park we’ve driven past many times, not realizing it wasn’t just a dog park, which is only a small part of the huge property. But first, as we were driving by the post office we had a close encounter with Thelma & Louise, a pair of male wild turkeys.
They are local celebrities and even have their own Facebook page, where humans post pictures of their sightings. A biologist weighed in and said they were two males, but the names Thelma & Louise remain stuck to them. They hang out in downtown Groton and regularly stop traffic as they stroll across the streets.
But nobody seems to get irritated with them as they wait patiently for the turkeys to get out of harm’s way.
We’ve crossed paths with them many times but this was the first time there was a place we could pull over and get a few pictures. I posted these on Facebook. 🙂
On to Copp Family Park. It was gorgeous! And we had a nice long walk because the uneven terrain on the trails was good for Tim’s back and hip. We even had to cross a stream using stepping stones. It felt so good to be deep in the woods again. No mosquitoes! In fact, we were wearing our winter coats because it was only 37°F (3°C) when we left the house.
The picture below is a failed attempt to capture a woodpecker, but I kind of like the pleasing composition.
I found a tree hosting lots of reindeer moss, at least I’m pretty sure that’s what this lichen is called…
I was holding a small clump of reindeer moss in one hand, a little piece of that branching, pale green-grey lichen that can survive just about anything the world throws at it. It is patience made manifest. Keep reindeer moss in the dark, freeze it, dry it to a crisp, it won’t die. It goes dormant and waits for things to improve. Impressive stuff. ~ Helen Macdonald (H is for Hawk)
I even spotted some on the ground farther along the trail.
orbs and orange leaves
the largest glacial erratic we encountered
the other side of the glacial erratic
spiral growth?
After we got back to the car we decided to go for a leaf peeping drive and wound up at the cider mill and a cemetery. Will share those pictures in the next post!
This is my second annual Walktober post with Robin over at breezes at dawn. If you would like to, click the link to learn more about it and perhaps join us. Everyone is welcome! 🍂
great blue heron
For our walk I decided to visit a place my Birding in Connecticut book suggested. We had never been to Waterford Beach Park before. There was a long path through a wooded area and then through a salt marsh and then over a dune to get to the beach. And then we had a pleasant walk up and down the scenic beach on Long Island Sound, although the sand flies were pretty bad that day. It was also unseasonably warm. A few people were arriving with beach chairs as we were leaving.
great egret
Great blue herons stay here for the winter. I thought great egrets flew south but apparently during mild years they stay as far north as Massachusetts. The summer ones in Groton are gone, maybe they come over here for the winter. 🙂 Or maybe the warm weather has merely postponed their departure. Tim noticed the interspecies friendship moment in the picture below.
great blue heron and great egret together (taken from the John A. Scillieri, Jr. Overlook Wetlands path)
Waterford Beach Park offers nearly 1/4 mile long stretch of sandy beach and an extensive tidal marsh. Visitors have the rare opportunity to experience an unmodified natural beach with outstanding views of Long Island Sound. ~ Town of Waterford website
path over the tidal marsh and dune, leading to the beach
I come into the presence of still water. And I feel above me the day-blind stars waiting with their light. ~ Wendell Berry (The Peace of Wild Things)
tidal creek coming from Alewife Cove
beach roses
The beach views took our breaths away! A friendly town employee greeted us and when we told him we had never been there before he kindly filled us in on all sorts of events held there. A summer pass is quite expensive though, so I suspect all our visits will be off-season when there is no entrance fee.
looking west
Since we started looking for nature walks when the pandemic began we still keep finding “new” places near home that we’ve never been to before. It’s a good thing, though, since our health problems keep us from traveling too far away from our nest.
squabbling gulls
We spent quite a bit of time watching the gulls at the west end of the beach. They were having a feast. I can’t figure out if they are juvenile herring gulls or juvenile great black-backed gulls. And I don’t know what kind of creature they were eating inside those shells.
(?) the gulls were feasting on these
this calm one must have finished eating
looking east
slipper shell
art in the sand
beach rose and sand, summer lingering…
As we headed back through the marsh we could see out past Alewife Cove to the lighthouse we usually see from our beach. From our beach it has nothing but the water of Long Island Sound behind it. I’m not sure what the land mass is behind it from this vantage point. I’m going to try to find a map to study…
New London Ledge Light from tidal marsh at Waterford Town Beach
It looks like our fall colors are arriving later this year. We’ve been avoiding the woods because of the mosquitoes, of which we’ve had a bumper crop. I didn’t appreciate it at the time but last year’s drought kept the mosquitoes away and made all those autumn walks in the woods possible. May a first frost arrive here soon!
9.25.21 ~ By Land & By Sea Antique Vehicle Show at Mystic Seaport 1930 Ford Model A Pickup Truck
Watch our village come alive as pre 1932 cars, trucks and motorcycles go about the typical activities of a busy waterfront village. Many of these vehicles are more than 100 years old! The advent of motor vehicles greatly improved the movement of goods from coastal areas to inland communities. ~ Mystic Seaport Museum
1931 Ford Model A Side Window Town Sedan
The weather was perfect for our visit to this car show! Rick, the owner of this Model A, was very quick to point out that the seats were made of mohair as he invited me to sit in his car. This is the first time I can remember being in one of these old cars. Most of them have signs saying “do not touch.”
mohair seats
new experience for yours truly
Rick explained that car trunks used to be actual trunks
and this flying quail hood ornament was a symbol for fast starting
Rick and his Model A
Tim noticed the bright sunlight and water reflections on the stern of this ship as we walked by.
Charles W. Morgan
And then I spotted a beautiful blue car. We were admiring it and next thing I knew the owner and his son were helping me into the rumble seat!
1931 Ford Model A Roadster
Ted and I quickly became friends. (My father’s name was Ted, too, and it turns out, this Ted was born in 1931, the same year as my mother was.) He’s 90 years old and I enjoyed listening to him tell me about his late wife, his sons, and his family history. But most of all, about how much he loved this car. He said he and this car were the same age but that the car was in much better shape. Although he admits to having a few replacement parts himself. 😉
He saw it at an auction and decided he could bid up to $5,000 for it. He was outbid and left the auction, very disappointed. But a while later one of his sons came up to him with the keys and told him he now owned it! Without telling his father, the son had joined in the bidding and got it for $7,500. He used his money to make up the difference. What a gift!
Ted grew up on a farm, just like my father did. I loved hearing the stories about the chores he had to do, and how when he was 10 years old all his older brothers left home to serve in World War II. His father took a job and suddenly Ted had much more responsibility helping his mother on the farm.
Then he showed me some pictures of the car when he first bought it. It was in very rough shape and was a different color. I asked him why he painted it blue. He smiled and said because blue is his favorite color. Me, too, I let him know. What a labor of love restoring this car was!
Reluctantly we left my newfound friend and headed over to see how the Viking ship, Draken Harald Hårfagre, was coming along on the seaport’s shiplift, there for routine maintenance, including painting and oiling the hull.
Draken Harald Hårfagre
I climbed the stairs up to a viewing platform for a closer look. Tim found a bench to rest. We were doing a lot of walking in the sun.
Tim was impressed with this car, lingering long enough for a picture.
1931 Cadillac 355A Sport Phaeton
This looked like fun, though we never did figure out where the ride started…
1919 Harley Davidson Model JS, motorcycle with sidecar
For the most part we felt relatively safe from covid-19 being outside. We wore our masks into the seaport welcome center to get through admissions. We didn’t go to any of the indoor exhibits. We are waiting impatiently for our third doses of vaccine so we can visit our grandchildren and feel safe. It’s frustrating because even though I got the Pfizer vaccine I won’t be 65 for another four months. And Tim got the Moderna vaccine so even though he’s old enough his booster isn’t yet available. Sigh… But at least it’s autumn and we can spend much more time outdoors while we wait.
On our way to the beach for a walk I spotted a great blue heron perched on a stone in Avery Pond. Had to get out of the car and walk down the road to find a spot without vegetation blocking my view.
double-crested cormorant on the breakwater 9.20.21 ~ Eastern Point
At the beach we found lots of cormorants on the breakwaters again. Since there were very few people down on the sand we walked the length of the beach and I was able to get a picture with some of this cormorant’s markings more visible.
ring-billed gull with feet covered in sand
Lots of gulls were enjoying the sun, sand and sea. This time of year they can hang out on the beach in peace. I know I take too many pictures of gulls but I think they are so beautiful and photogenic.
ring-billed gull by the sea
ring-billed gull woolgathering
ring-billed gull sunbathing
laughing gulls, juvenile and nonbreeding adult
I’ve seen very few laughing gulls this year. I almost didn’t notice these two.
When we headed over to the estuary I saw a bee on a goldenrod plant growing up through the cement and rocks on the edge of the parking lot. The last place I expected to see something cool to photograph!
The important thing is not to stop questioning. Curiosity has its own reason for existence. One cannot help but be in awe when he contemplates the mysteries of eternity, of life, of the marvelous structure of reality. It is enough if one tries merely to comprehend a little of this mystery each day. Never lose a holy curiosity. ~ Albert Einstein (Life, May 2, 1955)
double-crested cormorant in the estuary
Another cormorant was out on a rock in the estuary, and still another one was swimming around fishing. It was high tide. My camera was finally able to capture some of their coloring subtleties. It’s amazing what a little sunlight will reveal.
double-crested cormorant ~ it just swallowed a fish
I love my little beach, especially this time of year.
Labor Day weekend with autumn weather! I didn’t think it was possible. We couldn’t resist taking a morning walk in the woods in spite of mosquito and poison ivy threats. I’ve been waiting impatiently for this kind of day all summer.
American burnweed
To include nature in our stories is to return to an older form of human awareness in which nature is not scenery, not a warehouse of natural resources, not real estate, not a possession, but a continuation of community. ~ Barry Lopez (High Country News, September 14, 1998)
smaller bug with bee on goldenrod
As I’ve often said, I love the sunlight this time of year, in the months surrounding the equinoxes. It seems just right, not too dim nor too bright, and it immerses everything I see in a wonderful presence. Sometimes my camera even catches it the way I perceive it.
Any patch of sunlight in a wood will show you something about the sun which you could never get from reading books on astronomy. These pure and spontaneous pleasures are “patches of Godlight” in the woods of our experience. ~ C. S. Lewis (Not a Tame Lion: The Spiritual Legacy of C. S. Lewis & The Chronicles of Narnia)
waterfall in Fort Hill Brook
daddy-longlegs on the top trunk of a tree, snapped off during Hurricane Henri
Impermanence and fragility are essential components of beauty, and of love. In some mysterious way, we are all here together, one whole happening, awake to the sorrow, the joy, and the inconceivability of every fresh and instantly vanishing moment, each of us a bright light in the dazzling darkness. ~ Joan Tollifson (Facebook, February 24, 2021)
“The Time of the Lilacs” by Sophie Gengembre Anderson
The explosion of May-blossom, sunlight, and burgeoning life needs expression at this time, when workday commonplaces can be thrown to the four winds and the bright joy of living can bubble up within us with natural ecstasy. All who have waited at dawn to welcome in summer have felt the sudden burst of brightness that ignites the deep happiness of the living earth as the sun rises. ~ Caitlín Matthews (The Celtic Spirit: Daily Meditations for the Turning Year)
11.6.20 ~ Bluff Point State Park & Coastal Reserve Groton, Connecticut
A Saucer holds a Cup In sordid human Life But in a Squirrel’s estimate A Saucer holds a Loaf —
A Table of a Tree Demands the little King And every Breeze that run along His Dining Room do swing —
His Cutlery — he keeps Within his Russet Lips — To see it flashing when he dines Do Birmingham eclipse —
Convicted — could we be Of our Minutiae The smallest Citizen that flies Is heartier than we —
~ Emily Dickinson (The Poems of Emily Dickinson, #1407)
It had been a couple of years since I’ve visited Bluff Point, but Tim hadn’t been here in ten years! There was still plenty of fall colors to enjoy.
The first time we came here was about forty years ago. I was very pregnant with our daughter and our sons were three and five years old. We walked all the way to the point, about a mile and a half, I think, maybe two, but on the way back the boys were too tired to walk any more. So Tim put the five-year-old on his shoulders and carried the three-year-old facing forward in front of him. The memory of his feat still amazes me to this day.
Ten years ago, when Tim’s cousin and her three children were visiting us for a weekend, we took them here for a long cold winter walk. Those children are grown up and on their own now, too.
We didn’t go all the way to the point this day, Tim’s hip started acting up about half an hour in. The path is pretty flat, which probably worked against him, as we learned this spring he does much better on uneven terrain. On the way back, we got off the path and wandered along the Poquonnock River bank back to the parking lot.
How different things are these days. That young couple with so much energy has vanished out of the scene. An older couple remains, strolling along, one of them stopping frequently to settle his bones while the other flutters around him, taking pictures of this and that with her camera. He’s still my best companion.
There were more people in the park than I thought there would be for a week day. Most had masks on and all were respectful of social distancing. Two squirrels were near the entrance, nibbling on something someone may have left for them earlier.
Once we encountered two women with masks on, walking down the wide path six feet apart from each other, but having a lively conversation. I guessed they might be friends meeting up for a visit. It made me start wondering if it would be safe for me to do something like that, too. Or would I be too nervous about inadvertently getting too close?
I have a feeling the pandemic will be over before I find a good way to make these decisions. For now, we’ll stay the course. This was a very refreshing walk.
it looks like these two trees are lifting the glacial erratic up off the ground
someone might be living under these roots
Poquonnock River
waning gibbous moon
I loved the sunlight on the bark of these trees
pretty bark
leaf caught by a branch on its way down
you never know where a smile might turn up
an adorable tufted titmouse
as we were leaving, a surprise in the sky, a powered hang glider
10.7.20 ~ Goose Pond, Haley Farm State Park Groton, Connecticut
Due to illnesses and the births of grandchildren and other distractions I’ve never had a chance to participate in Robin’s Walktober invitation. See here if you think you might be interested in taking a walk and posting a blog about it: This is it: Walktober! Finally, this year, I can join in! Tim & I took this walk at Haley Farm State Park on October 7th.
starting out
Two things have worked to keep us very close to home this year. Health problems and the coronavirus pandemic. And this has led us to discover that our hometown has over 3,500 acres of open space preserved, 17% of the town’s total land area. We have 463 acres in land trusts, 1,511 acres in town and city recreation and conservation areas, and 1,586 acres in three state parks. (We live in the tiny City of Groton, which is part of the Town of Groton, and yes, we pay property taxes to both!)
meadow and woods, just a hint of fall colors
We started walking south, the narrow boardwalk leading to a wide dirt road following along Palmer Cove.
meadow obscuring view of Palmer Cove
Connecticut’s first governor, John Winthrop Jr., owned part of the farm in 1648. Over the years the land passed through various hands, including the Chester family in the 18th century, whose headstones are still on the property. When Caleb Haley owned and farmed the land in the late 19th to 20th centuries, he had a very unique hobby which can be seen throughout the park – the building of stone walls. Boulders found on the property were extracted and placed by an ox drawn stone-puller. The walls separated a number of pastures. Some remains of the farm’s buildings are still visible near the entrance of the park. ~ Haley Farm State Park website
white on light with orbs
Ahead: glimpses of Palmer Cove and one of Caleb Haley’s many stone walls.
waning gibbous moon setting over the woods
looking back down the road behind us
And then the road eventually led us into the woods, narrowed to a trail, and to the locally well-known Canopy Rock, a glacial erratic and favorite hang-out spot for local teens. We didn’t climb up there. 🙂
Canopy Rock
We cut through the woods to return to the parking lot, consulting the park map frequently because there are so many criss-crossing, unmarked trails in this 267 acre park. The stone walls are also indicated on the map, which was helpful in determining which path we might be on. map
sunlight in the woods
In 1963, efforts to protect the farm from being sold to developers began. The State of Connecticut agreed to match funds raised for the purchase of the farm. The Groton Open Space Association with the help of The CT Forest & Park Association led a successful fund raising effort that led to the purchase of the property. In July of 1970, Life Magazine featured an article on Haley Farm titled “Battles Won”. Haley Farm became an official Connecticut State Park in July of 1970. Nearby Bluff Point State Park and Coastal Reserve was protected from great development pressures and was saved in 1975. It can be reached from Haley Farm via a bridge over the railroad tracks. The two parks, combined, offer over 1000 acres of land and are permanently protected as open space for public enjoyment. ~ Haley Farm State Park website
a path to follow another day
autumn art in a grassy meadow
Living in the southernmost part of New England, we will be the last to get a peak of fall colors. More brilliant days to look forward to. Thank you, Robin, for hosting Walktober!
