Springing River

After the rain fell.

the sun broke up the clouds

and the river rose,

Pouring sharply from

the old mill-built Queechee dam,

throwing spray up high.

Three Views

 

The river yesterday afternoon.

The river downstream that evening.

The river tonight near sunset.

Rolling River

After 10 days in England, mostly in London, often by the Thames, I saw the Ottauquechee while driving west on Rt. 4 up the valley yesterday evening.  It tumbled over the Taftsville bridge, and the glimpses of its twists and turns down the slope and through the trees revealed a full stream, bearing Killington snow away to the Connecticut. 

This morning, watching 

from the Middle Bridge, I saw 

the river rolling.

A Tributary in Holy Week

This Easter afternoon the Ottauquechee burgeons with a spring flow.  

Yesterday, while out Rt. 4 west a mile or so, I found the freshet below jetting through the trees.

 

To my delight, I tracked it a few yards to where it joined the main stream. A tributary!

I am signing off for a post-Easter break. I look forward to posting again soon.

Torn Veil

The moment I reached my usual spot on the bridge, I looked over the railing.  Just then two ducks emerged heading downstream. The male had striking black and white features around his head and breast, the female a tuft of feathers sweeping back from her head.  They took my breath away.  They moved swiftly in the current and then hung out, as can be seen in the picture:  two black specks near the ice jutting out from the left bank.

By evening, that ice had been swept away and the water's edge reached as high as the snowy strip on the riverbank.  The water was brown, rising and moving fast.

I am pondering the connection of the river opening up these past days and Holy Week.  "The veil of the sanctuary was torn in two from top to bottom," might be a good start.

Free

The river downstream from the Middle Bridge opened in the night, despite the sub-freezing temperatures.  The cold still created slush patches flowing along as they did in the early winter before the ice took over. Watching these ice islands stream by, they seemed like jigsaw puzzle pieces.  Instead of needing just the right shape to join the larger puzzle, though, as soon as they touched a neighbor patch, they changed shape to meld right in.

I had forgotten how playful the river can be. 

Opening Up

The main Ottauquechee channel swept open a swath of ice during the night, despite temperatures in the teens.  Upriver at the Rt. 4 bridge around noon, the stream seemed nearly normal, ice only at the edges. By the evening, the channel was open all the way to the bend, with the exception of an ice pile-up near the wall along the right bank.