Blog Archive » Adirondack Chronicles

I was rumbling down from the mountains this morning when my Blackberry flashed with a message from Security Chief Doris Bey and the subject line "Earthquake" grabbed my attention.   No damage on campus, thank goodness, from the mild tremors that shook the DC region this morning.   But, oh my, what an auspicious message to end my Adirondack sojourn and begin my journey back to Washington!

Dawn was just breaking over Long Lake as I packed the car and waved silent goodbye to my favorite little cabin in the woods, and gave thanks again to my friend Joe, the owner, who rents this little bit of heaven to many city-weary folks like me.    A few weeks in the peace and quiet of the North Country does wonders.   Beyond feeling rested and restored, I also have my collection of pictures to remind me of all the good things here through the long months ahead.

I'll keep fond memories of the chipmunks (above) and many different kinds of woodpeckers (bel0w)…

….and of course, those elusive blue jays…

The startled looks on the faces of fawns along the side of the road…

Or the turkeys crossing the road… (why do they do that?)….

Or that cute little fox…

Beautiful vistas of fields and flowers…

The art of checking email while kayaking…

People sometimes ask if I have a picture of me in the kayak…. well, here you are:

Yes, mom, I am wearing a life jacket.

(Mom:  why are you doing anything that requires a life jacket?)

Of course, I will remember the loons…

Back to reality…and Trinity!  We have a big agenda ahead, and I'm ready to roll!

Thanks to all readers who have enjoyed and commented on the Adirondack Chronicles…. I'm glad to know that these little stories and photos have given you some cheer.

Each year when I start out my vacation in the Adirondacks, I am still wearing my "city eyes" and "urban ears."   I see all the deep greens and browns of the forest, but it's a blur, and the lakes all look pretty much the same.  My city eyes are trained not to stare too deeply, to mind my own business.  My urban ears are used to tuning out the constant noise of the city.

As the days unfold in the deep woods, my optics change, wilderness eyes coming into focus:  within a week I can see past the first rows of trees into the darker parts of the forest where the wildlife lives.  I can soon tell the difference between a bump on a log and a painted turtle, a fluttering leaf on a birch that becomes a yellow warbler, a reddish stone that has the eyes of a fox.

My urban ears become attuned to the silence of the forest, at first stunned by the lack of sound, and then hearing sounds that make the silence so beautiful:  a ripple on the water, the dragonfly's wings, a loon calling far out on the lake.   My deep forest ears become so used to listening to this silent symphony that I find the noise in town startling.

I learn to read the signs of the sky and water:  when a passing cloud is a blessed relief from the sun, when it signifies a huge storm coming.  The lake surface tells the stories of bright blue clear days and steel slate stormy skies approaching.

I try to hold onto my wilderness eyes and deep forest ears when I return to Washington, visiting the beautiful places like Blackwater Wildlife Refuge and Nanjemoy Creek in Maryland.  But I know that, in time, my city eyes and urban ears will take over once again, making it necessary for me to plan another return to the North Country for my annual adjustments.

Of course, I also come to know that even the beautiful wildnerness has its dark side.   This little guy is pretty cute, right?

Well, that is, until you see him make off with dinner!

The fresh air does wonders for appetites!

Some gulls prefer trolling on a sandy beach.  Other gulls prefer sunning on a log on an Adirondack lake:

On a hot afternoon on Follensby Clear Pond, the ducks were not about to move from their lounge chairs even for a visitor, whom they simply eyed languidly…

Even the frogs were just laying around…

But this osprey, nesting on top of a tall pine tree, never wavered from her vigilant watch for predators who might steal the chicks in that nest:

Later in the evening, I watched the sun set over Blue Mountain Lake:

A beautiful end to a perfect day in the North Country!

Developing good observational skills is essential for wildlife photography and general enjoyment of the back country.    Observing wildlife requires patience, the ability to recognize shapes and colors, and sometimes, a great deal of luck.   For example, when I first observed the bird above at a distance, it was in shadows and I was fairly far away, and the silhouette of the bird appeared to be that of a common grackle, a plain old bird, I wasn't interested.

Then I realized that the beak was much longer than a grackle, and the overall shape of the shoulders was larger than a back yard bird.

I attached a longer lens to my camera and saw that the bird was actually a beautiful green heron.   I've seen green herons along the Potomac River and in the Everglades, but not previously in the Adirondacks.   I was thrilled to add this "catch" to my collection.   As I watched, I put a teleconverter on my lens for a closer look, and while I was watching the green heron stretched its neck — a sign of alert — and let out a piercing yell.

That photograph made my day!   The heron swiftly took off after that….

Here's an example of a blue jay hiding in the grasses alongside the road:

And I waited long enough to catch him perched on a tree branch:

This frog just wouldn't leap from behind the tall grasses of the marsh:

But these ring-necked ducks were playing along the shores of Tupper Lake without any hiding in the reeds…

This yellow warbler was hard to miss, given that bright belly:

But I almost overlooked this little merganser duckling beating a hasty retreat on Stony Creek:

Trinity alumnae gathering for lunch at the Lake George Club… a sure sign that the height of summer has arrived!  We had a glorious time, as always, thanks to the graciousness of our hostess Barbara Rourke and wonderful leadership of Ginger Ryan.

As we do every year, we gabbed about just about everything…. Memories of Sister Ann Francis and Sister Columba, the Psych Nun (Sister Margaret Finnegan) and roommates of fond memory…

Of all the alumnae gatherings I attend each year, our Lake George luncheon is surely the one with the most laughter, perhaps most raucous, and likely to reveal the most honest opinions on startling topics.  Of course, I can't say what those are…. what goes on at Lake George stays there!

Thanks to all for another great day at the lake!  (Below is the view of Lake George immediately behind our group above!)

Later that afternoon, as I was driving back to Long Lake across the mountains on a wonderful seasonal road called the Blue Ridge Route, I rounded a turn and admired the farm in the valley ahead…and then screeched to a halt.   Could I really be seeing….

Buffalo in the Adirondacks??

Yes!!  Wow.  A small herd of 20-30 head of bison, including a number of calves, gathered around a watering hole on the hottest day of the year so far.

Backwoods entrepreneurship knows no bounds!  Turns out there's a company that is breeding and raising the buffalo for meat and bison-related lore.  Check out the website for the Adirondack Buffalo Company…

But buffalo are not the only exotic animals being raised deep in the woods and mountains of the North Country.  Another important-but-exotic animal raised on various farms is…

… the alpaca, raised for its fleece, which becomes wonderful scarves and hats and sweaters and vests during those long Adirondack winters.  And yes, there's a website and an association for the Adirondack Alpaca Breeders..

And these calves lounging by the side of the road called out to me and said, Hey, we're not exotic, but we want to be part of the Adirondack Chronicles!