The Source

It seems as if we are alternating days of blue skies with days of slate.  The river of air and moisture flowing from the west brought the dull hue today.

In contrast, the package delivery stream deposited a cardboard tube yesterday with a half dozen U. S. Geological Service maps of much of the Ottauquechee watershed.  I have always loved maps, and have coveted these since my questions of the river began last fall.

These maps are a wonder of precision.  In our blanched out winter landscape, they also bring a sprinkle of color as they show a perpetually snow-free topography. 

The source of the Ottauquechee between Doubleday Mountain and Shaw Hill near North Sherburne.

From the Thames

While the Ottauquechee continues frozen, in London the Thames rolls on.  A report from my daughter Emily and a shot of Peter Ackroyd's "sacred river."

Dirty old river, must you keep rolling, flowing into the night...Those lyrics from The Kinks' "Waterloo Sunset" float into my head every time I walk along the river in the early evening. I had just crossed Millennium Bridge, a footbridge flooded with tourists between the Tate Modern and St. Paul's Cathedral, and stopped in front of Shakespeare's Globe to take this picture. Because I'm studying playhouses and playgoing in Shakespeare's time, I can't help but imagine the water full of boatmen, taking people across from the City to the suburbs, where the theatres (and the brothels and bear-baiting rings...) were, outside the law, separated by this ever-moving, ever-changing band of water. Today, apart from the occasional tour boat, there isn't much to see in the Thames, which has gotten narrower than it was in the 1600s. The wind off the water can bite shrewdly but there's never a route that I'd rather take. As it gets warmer, I'm looking forward to many walks up and down the river and Waterloo sunsets.

Human River

Downstream

Considering the River Thames of England, Peter Ackroyd wrote:

"When the river is described it always assumes a human dimension.  It is patient, making its way through any obstacle.  It is ruthless, wearing down the hardest rocks.  It is unpredictable, especially when its current is interrupted or diverted. ... Its character changes within each terrain.  It becomes terrible and vindictive.  It becomes sportive.  It becomes treacherous.  It becomes impartial.  It becomes industrious.  It gives human characteristics to topography."

Thames: Sacred River, end of Chapter 4.

So too our Ottauquchee, now asleep.

Upstream

One Day Tells Its Tale to Another

The heavens declare the glory of God,
    and the firmament shows his handiwork.

One day tells its tale to another,
    and one night imparts knowledge to another.

Although they have no words or language,
    and their voices are not heard,

Their sound has gone out into all lands,
    and their message to the ends of the world.

These opening verses of Psalm 19 resonate for me with the river.  I love the idea of each day telling its tale to the next and each night filling in the next on what it has learned.  They do this without language and yet the message goes "to the ends of the world."

The Ottauquechee flows day and night carrying yesterday's upriver burden, filled with the tale of rainfall, runoff, freeze and thaw, vegetable, animal and human detritus, elements life-bringing and death-dealing.

The water from our river meets the sea, bringing its tale of Vermont hills "to the ends of the world."

Cirrus and Shadows

Last night's serious dusting gave over to this cirrus-streaked sky, morphing during the day to total overcast and now, in the evening, more snow.  Tomorrow promises above freezing temperatures and maybe some rain.  The river will respond, I expect.  This is not the big melt, however, as a freeze will follow hard upon. 

Cirrus wisps above

west-leaning morning shadows

brush the hard river.

Heaven and Earth

Heaven and earth about

to touch again through snowfall:

below, the river.

Window on Water

A rare early morning (6:30) visit to the bridge, temperature: 0. With March, the month of sure equinoctial change, we hope for actual spring here in our north country. With resignation, I predict a white Easter on April 5.

The next bridge upstream bears Route 4 across the Ottauquechee.  Taking Jack for an early afternoon stroll, we stopped mid-bridge to check out the open water that usually flows there.  This is what we saw.

A water window

 surrounded by encroaching

crystalline boxes.