Hi hi! Last Salmon Hole blog of the year! Wild!
I ran down to my phenology spot on another sunny April day while listening to my favorite science podcast (Ologies w Alie Ward go check it out!!!!). The trees have finally budded, all at once, in the way that they do every northern spring. Still, my focal northern red oak just had the barest of buds on it—alas.
I don’t know that my site has changed too drastically since I first visited. The river has carved away more shoreline and the trees have made the forest floor thicker with litter, but the water still rises and falls the same, and the moss has survived the winter with renewed intensity. There are a couple of downed trees in the middle of the river—I have no idea how long they have been there. They must have been carried from the bank during a storm.
I am familiar with the strange rock formations that overlook the river directly off the point. I know the variations in the water’s height and speed, and I know where icicles tend to form in the winter. I know where you might see a gray squirrel if you’re still, and I recently met the spiders that live in tiny crevasses in the rocks. This place is an amalgamation of culture and people, nature and industry. The river sparkles and in its reflection, you can see the steam rising from a mill. The sound of the dam and the cars overhead whir in what might have been a silent place, where the water is still.
I don’t know if I am a part of this place. It is not mine to claim, I am just a visitor. Still, I ask permission to enter and sing my thanks when I go. I still affect the place, as does the city in which I live, so maybe I am an unintentionally integrated aspect of it now. Either way, I strive to honor its integrity and protect its sanctity.
Until next time <3