Great Meadows and Some Thoughts on Process
Various issues got in the way of producing posts for this site, but I have been engaged in the ideas of it all along. Formerly, Beth and I were going to Punkatasset Hill as often as possible. Work and school made that difficult. I have replaced that by often walking in the neighbourhood.
Two interesting routes exist. One goes down to a boat landing on the Concord River. The other circuits thru a business park. That may not sound exciting but the buildings nestle in greenery and there's a pond that seems more remote than it is. And just see how things look different because of time of day or the changing seasons.
I use an iPad Mini a lot more than maybe I ought. It produces crisp pictures but harder to handle than the Nikon (how many pictures ruined by the appearance of my finger?). On the plus side, the pictures conveniently gather in the iPad, ready to be used. And I can write notes, and I can post to Facebook. And the whole point is to look at things, big or small. The habit of looking. Here are some notes I wrote today, albeit not on site. That which popped up as I reviewed:
Reached Great Meadows around 5:00. Foggy morn. Climbed the tower for a view. Grey and quiet looking, but a continual chatter of birds. Erin remained in the parking lot, hoping to see action in the hummingbird nest. I strode down the causeway, a distance behind three people who arrived just after us. I took a lot of pictures but the light was poor. No geese around. I walked to the edge of the Concord River, which showed diagonal ripples, as of a breeze that I wasn't feeling. Subtle colors and ghostly sun grew in the sky. Urgent cries from geese when I was midway on the causeway, and the whoosh of wings, suddenly coming towards me over the reeds. Their dark.forms against the brightening sky. Busy marsh wrens flitting and chipping. Robins would walk ahead of me till I got to close then they would take flight a short distance ahead. Too foggy for a clear view of the hummingbird nest. Home before seven.
