September: The First Morecambe Poetry Festival

A tea time visit from a Roe Deer.

September, it turns out, was a very busy month, with some notable highlights, so I have a few more posts to come. But I thought I would mention the poetry festival first. I didn’t take any photos, unfortunately, so I’ve used the opportunity to throw in some other September odds and ends.

A double rainbow from Aldi’s carpark, just around the corner from work.

Our comedy show in Brooklyn and the Latin band we saw in Saranac Lake stood out as high-spots in our New York holiday and I resolved to make the most of any cultural opportunities which came my way closer to home. So when I saw posts about a poetry festival in Morecambe I bought tickets for both the Friday and Saturday evenings. Given that the line up included Mike Garry, Lemn Sissay, John Cooper Clarke, Henry Normal and Linton Kwesi Johnson, all of whom I’ve seen live before, mostly many years ago when I lived in Manchester, it wasn’t a difficult decision to make. They were all brilliant, as was Joelle Taylor, who was new to me. This year’s festival is scheduled for the end of September again and the line-up so far includes Carol Ann Duffy, Roger McGough, Brian Bilston, Jackie Kay and Henry Normal again. Very exciting! I need to buy a ticket.

A regular Monday evening appointment with the sunset from the car park by the wind-farm on Caton Moor, after dropping of S at Explorers in the Lune valley. This is a film, but you’ll have to click on it to watch on Flickr.

The festival will once again be based at the Winter Gardens, which I see has just secured a substantial grant for more refurbishment. With that and the Eden Project North and a host of cultural events through the year, things seem to be on the up and up for Morecambe. I lived and worked there for many years and am really chuffed to see it has a potentially rosy future.

Another sunset shot, with clouds over the Lakeland Fells.

Not a September thing, but I think I forgot to mention that in June TBH and I saw Daniel Bye and Boff Whalley at the Duke’s Theatre in Lancaster in their show ‘These Hills are Ours’. You may remember that I was involved with them in a project of the same name a while ago. This show doesn’t relate to that, but is about a madcap scheme to run from Lancaster to Kinder Scout to celebrate the Mass Trespass. Highly recommended.

This film is not of the show, but is about a tour in Devon, during which Dan and Boff ran between venues, in mostly foul weather, and is worth a watch.

The Copper Smelting Works chimney near Jenny Brown’s. TBH were still getting out for our local walks.

Blencathra by Doddick Fell.

In the early part of the descent.

August Bank Holiday Monday, the final day of my long, eventful summer break, and TBH was keen to get out and climb a hill. We settled on Blencathra. We were very lucky and managed to find street parking in Threlkeld.

In the early part of the ascent – Doddick Fell ridge on the skyline.

The sun shone intermittently and it was even quite warm for a while. We were heading around the base of the hill, aiming for Sharp Edge, but when we reached Scaley Beck there was a steep little rock step to negotiate, down into the beck and I didn’t like the look of it, so we turned back for Doddick Fell instead.

Looking to Clough Head.

Dor Beetle – with tiny mite piggybacking on it’s head.

Great Mell Fell.

On the path which skirts the edge of the access land.

We’d not climbed far up Doddick Fell when some unforecast drizzle materialised. Just after we’d stopped for lunch!

Early lunch stop in the drizzle – showers over Clough Head.

Hall’s Fell Ridge, Hallsfell Top, Doddick Gill and Doddick Fell.

Doddick Fell turned out to be a marvellous route up Blencathra. I suspect all of the many ridges are worth a look.

A little further up Doddick Fell. Rather splendid.

Looking down Doddick Fell to Clough Head.

Looking down Doddick Fell.

Almost there.

Looking down Doddick Fell from the top of the ridge.

Scales Fell and the Pennines beyond.

Hallsfell Top.

Sharp Edge and Scales Tarn.

Sharp Edge pano. (Click on this, or any other pictures to see larger images on Flickr.)

Gategill Fell and Derwentwater.

The Skiddaw massif. Criffel in the background?

Blencathra pano 1

The views from Blencathra were superb. What’s-more, it wasn’t busy at all.

Looking over Mungrisdale Common to Great Calva and Knott.

Blencathra pano 2.

Blencathra pano 3

Blencathra pano 4

Looking back up to the top.

We’d had another spell of sunny weather, but, as we started to descend, a band of ominous black clouds swept in from the East.

Clough Head, The Dodds ridge and Thirlmere.

It was very dramatic and I took no end of photos of Clough Head and the Dodds as the black cloud breezed over them.

Clough Head, The Dodds ridge and Thirlmere.

Brooding skies, Derwentwater and the hills beyond.

We took the Blease Fell path down – one I knew to be easy-angled, pleasant walking.

An easy descent on Blease Fell.

Almost down.

Last time I was up Blencathra, I was in the cloud the entire time, so this was a very welcome change.

August Bank Holiday Hutton Roof

Farleton Fell catching the sun.

Farleton Fell dominates the view from our kitchen, and from our garden, especially, as here, when it’s catching the sun and everything else is shaded by the clouds. Perhaps that was what prompted TBH and I to head that way for a short walk? Or perhaps not, since we opted for Farleton Fell’s neighbour Hutton Roof. Frankly, it’s hard to recall the decision making process at seven months remove. My own fault I know, for getting so far behind.

I do know that I’m very fond of this path, which climbs through the trees adjacent to a low limestone edge.

The hills above Kirkby Lonsdale and Ingleborough.

I’m also very fond of the views from Hutton Roof, especially the view of Ingleborough. So much so that I took loads of photos in that direction on this occasion, to add to the many I’ve taken on previous visits.

Pano – Ingleborough and the Forest of Bowland.

TBH by the trig pillar.

Looking towards the Lakes.

Warton Crag and the Bay.

On our descent, looking towards the Forest of Bowland.

Just a short walk, but one which delivers stupendous views for very little effort. We had bigger plans for the morrow, the last day of my holiday.

Back in the Groove

Helianthus ‘Lemon Queen’. Probably.

Our trip to America was amazing. The Adirondacks is definitely my new ‘happy place’. But coming home to my old ‘happy place’ was great too. Reunited with my camera, where would I go?

Well, initially, no further than the garden. And then not much further – a meander to Lambert’s Meadow, along The Row, past Bank Well to Myer’s Allotment and then back the same way. A very short walk which took quite a while because it was packed with interest. Well, packed with insects at least.

Brown-lipped snail (not an insect, I know).

Common Carder Bee.

Raspberries.

Blackberries.

Snowberries.

Rosehips.

Harvestman.

Looking towards Farleton Fell.

The tractor (and its driver) spent hours, long into the night, circling this field. Doing what? Not ploughing. The grass was removed, but, if anything, the ground seemed to have been compacted. Whatever, the gulls were very taken with the activity and followed the tractor slavishly.

Not ploughed.

Hoverfly on mint.

Common Darter.

Common Darter on Robin’s Pincushion Gall.

A Sloe or Hairy Shieldbug, I think.

At first I thought this was a Forest Bug, which is superficially quite similar, but I think the stripy antennae are the clincher.

This is the rather dried-up Burdock which was host to the Shieldbug.

Once I’d stopped to look, I realised that actually there were several of the same kind of bugs all on the one desiccated Burdock.

I’m really rather fond of Shieldbugs which can be very colourful.

The lower slopes of Warton Crag and Leighton Moss from Myer’s Allotment.

Speckled Wood Butterfly.

Possibly a Field Grasshopper.

There were lots of grasshoppers about, but they have a habit of springing away just as I get my camera focused.

Red Admiral Butterfly.

Conservation grazing. Red Poll Cattle?

Bumblebee.

This garden plant, growing on the verge of The Row, was absolutely mobbed with bees and hoverflies.

Volucella pellucens, the Pellucid Hoverfly.

A very dark Bumblebee with no pollen baskets. Could it be a Cuckoo Bumblebee?

I think this is a fourth instar nymph of the Common Green Shieldbug. There were several on these rather nice umbelliferae seeds.

I also took photos of the leaves of this plant, and based on those I think it might be Hogweed. Which, I find, is reputedly very good to eat – apparently the seeds are widely used in Iranian cuisine and taste a little like Cardamon. Who knew?

Common Carder Bee on mint.

Willowherb seeds.

Notice how the stem peels open to create an ideal opportunity for the seeds to catch the wind.

Ever since I read that Willowherb is the food-plant of the Elephant Hawkmoth caterpillar, I’ve kept an eye open, hoping to spot another. (Here’s the first.) It’s been many years, but my efforts eventually paid off…

Elephant Hawkmoth caterpillar (and photo bombing Green Shieldbug!)

A very large and striking caterpillar. The adult moth is even more imposing. (There’s one at the top of this very old post).

Purple Loosestrife.

Common Darter with spider’s web.

Tachina Fera.

Busy flowerhead.

Silver Y Moth on Mint.

White-lipped Snail.

White-lipped Snail, on Nettle leaf.

Copse Snail on Nettles.

Honeysuckle.

Sloes.

Niagara Falls

American Rapids

So, inevitably, if you’re in the area, you really have to go and see Niagara Falls. We’d seen the great plume of spray which rises high above the falls the day before – it’s unmissable even from quite a distance away.

We’d had some good advice, from our local guides, about free parking by the river. This meant that we had an opportunity to walk by the river, and the rapids, which were pretty awe inspiring in their own right.

American Rapids

American Rapids – this one is a film – click on it to watch it on flickr.

Route map.

I can’t remember, unfortunately, where I got this map from. I took a screenshot, so still have it on my phone. We parked in the lay-by on the bottom right of the map, followed the riverside paths to the pedestrian bridge then circled the island, anti-clockwise, visiting the Three Sisters Islands, eventually returning to the car for a picnic lunch. After lunch we walked back towards the falls and the Observation Tower in the top right-hand corner of the map, for our final treat of the day.

A gulp of Cormorants clustered by the river.

A glimpse of Horseshoe Falls.

The tall buildings are on the Canadian side of the river, which I’m told is ‘tacky’. The US side was, at one time, heavily industrialised, due to all of the free power available, but after a public campaign and subscription, was purchased and turned into a park.

The boats here are Maids of the Mist which offer an excursion right into the cauldron of Horseshoe Falls. On the American boats everybody wears a blue coat – I say coat, but really polythene bag is closer to the truth – whereas the Canadian boats offer their customers red bags. I’m not sure why the colour-coding is deemed necessary.

Because we were relatively early, TBH was convinced that we could avoid having to queue for the Cave of the Winds and she was absolutely right. A lift takes you down to the bottom of the Falls…

American and Bridal Veil Falls from below.

For this experience, the ponchos are yellow. Here we are before we got thoroughly drenched…

B almost breaks a smile.

The base of the Falls.

The noise and the wind are phenomenal.

Looking toward Horseshoe Falls.

I can’t say I was entirely convinced about the structural integrity of the rather rickety looking platforms.

The Hurricane Deck below Bridal Veil Falls.

In places the platforms were awash. The Hurricane Deck was particularly wet. As the name suggests, a powerful blast of wind was driving across the deck, carrying a great deal of water with it. I was happy to watch the others take a cold shower.

Soaked!

Here they are afterwards. I don’t know if you can tell from the picture, but they were drenched. B was having a wail of a time and almost broke into a smirk.

TBH with a statue of Nikola Tesla.

Looking down from Luna Island on the Cave of the Winds platforms. Bridal Veil Falls on the left, American Falls to the right.

Bridal Veil Falls from above.

A rainbow below American Falls.

Looking across American Falls from Luna Island.

Approaching Horseshoe Falls.

A rainbow beneath Horseshoe Falls.

Looking across Horseshoe Falls.

Horseshoe Falls pano.

One of the channels between Three Sisters Islands.

Canadian Rapids.

Across American Falls to Horseshoe Falls.

Rainbow International Bridge.

The penny-pinching side of my nature asserted itself and I declared myself satisfied with what I’d seen. Somewhat to my surprise, the DBs agreed. Thankfully, TBH told us we’d wouldn’t be coming back this way any time soon, and that she was going on the Maid of the Mist, with us or without us. We rapidly changed our minds and were soon queueing for a trip. Thank goodness we did.

American Falls.

American Falls.

We weren’t very close to the front of the group going on to the boat. Lots of people were rushing to try to get a spot near to the front on the top deck, but hardly anyone was stopping on the lower deck, so I suggested we try that. It was a great choice, there were hardly any people there, we were able to stand right at the front, but also had space to wander about and to find other vantage points.

The wind turned the ponchos into massive air-bags.

American Falls and Bridal Veil Falls.

Approaching Horseshoe Falls.

Part of Horseshoe Falls.

As we approached the maelstrom of Horseshoe Falls, the the falls themselves disappeared into the drenching mist. The roar of the falls was deafening, the boat swayed on the surging waters. It was chaotic, and my attempts to take photos were doomed to failure, but the immense power of the falls has left a lasting impression.

Hoseshoe Falls – sort of.

I was amazed to see gulls and diving ducks swimming on the surface of the river – it seemed incredible that anything could survive on or in the river – or that there could be any food there for the birds to find.

When you get off the Maid of the Mist, you have the option to climb a set of stairs at the side of American Falls – you can see them in the photo below. On a fine sunny day, full of very wet and windy experiences, this may well have been the wettest and windiest. Near the top, there was a bit of a queue to climb the last few steps – we decided that we really had now had enough and beat a hasty retreat back down the waiting lift.

American Falls and Horseshoe Falls.

Little Whiteface Mountain and Ausable River Swim

Adirondacks Day 11

Whiteface Mountain and the ski station at the top of the gondola.

Our last day in the Adirondacks, for the foreseeable future.

We cheated and took a gondola up Little Whiteface. Under normal circumstances, that would have given us a launch-pad to ascend Whiteface itself, but the trail was closed due to drainage work being carried out in preparation for this winter’s ski season (which, I’m reliably informed, has now begun).

Lake Placid with Moose Island and Buck Island. Moose Mountain on the right.

Posing on the top of Little Whiteface Mountain.

Which is imported.

A novel use of a viewing scope.

Later, we drove to Prof S’s cousin’s place outside Keene for a family get together and picnic.

Later still, we had a bit of a swim in the Ausable River…

The Ausable River near Keene.

The Ausable River.

Prof A was doing a great job of organising various competitions and challenges for the two sets of DBs, involving leaping into and swimming under the water. I tried swimming upriver, but the the large boulders in the water made progress quite difficult, so eventually I abandoned that plan and had a wander up the riverbank instead, to see what I might find.

Could be Hemp Agrimony.

And what I found, I think, was a number of wildflowers from Europe which have naturalised in the US.

Orange Balsam?

An Aster? This one might be native.

Tansy?

Purple Loosestrife – or something very like it.

I hope you’ve gathered, over the last few posts, that I really fell in love with the Adirondacks. I don’t know when I’ll be back there, but I really would like to visit again.

Fortunately, we still had a few more days of our trip to go, we’d yet to see our hosts new home in Buffalo. More to follow…

Ampersand Mountain

Adirondacks Day 9

TBH on Ampersand Mountain.

Time for another family hike.

We parked in the same place as we had for our first swim from Ampersand Beach. The route was very straightforward – up and back on a well-marked trail.

Initially, the going was fairly level, and the path crossed several small streams.

One of three rickety bridges on the path.

The bridges seemed a bit superfluous, but I suspect that, at other times of the year, the streams have a great deal more water in them.

Toadstool.

Eventually, the gradient rapidly increases and in some places the going was very steep…

Steep and rocky.

TBH on tree-root steps.

Tantalising glimpses.

As we approached the top, there were glimpses through the trees of the views to come.

Large fungi.

Also, close to the top, there is a jumble of huge boulders, which were too much to resist for the DBs (it’s fair to say that the DBs ranks had swollen to five)

Clambering on huge boulders.

The path skirts beneath one of the boulders.

At one point, there was a very small rock step, maybe 10′ at most, which had to be climbed. TBH and I used tree roots again. It can’t have been that difficult – Prof A had challenged the DBs to get to the top without using their hands and they managed it some how.

The last part of the ascent.

The final part of the climb was steep and rocky again, but still just a walk.

The view over the Saranac Lakes.

The views were amazing. I think that this was the day when Prof A pointed out the Green Mountains in Vermont. In honesty, I’m not sure how far away they are, but it felt like we could see forest, lakes and mountains stretching on for ever.

More views.

Pano.

It was really pretty warm in the sunshine. Too much so for Coco, who doesn’t generally seem to be very fond of water, but clearly needed to cool down on this occasion…

Coco cooling off.

Ampersand has a second top and Prof A was keen to head that way for a quiet lunch spot. We could see that there was nobody on the other top, but to get there we had to drop down another small rock step. I was confident I could get down safely, but not at all sure I would drag myself back up again, so, unfortunately, had to veto that plan.

Lunch stop.

Still, our lunch stop had great views.

Another Pano.

Ampersand Lake. Seymour Mountain, Seward Mountain and Donaldson Mountain beyond.

Ampersand Lake supposedly resembles an ampersand sign. I can’t see it myself.

South of the lake lie four of the 46. They look very remote, but apparently they can all be knocked off in one day by keen baggers.

Ampersand Lake pano.

Retracing our route.

Another rickety bridge.

More interesting fungi.

Once again, I took far more fungi shots than have made it in to this post. Most were blurred as usual. I also took some blurred photos, under the trees, of a Scorpion Fly and a Broad-leaved Helleborine, or at least, in each case, something very, very like the species I see close to home. I’m not sure why I was repeatedly so excited when I encountered something which seemed familiar, or which I could partially identify due to its similarity to something I see at home. Perhaps its because I didn’t really expect the things I’ve learned over the years, plodding around my home patch, to be applicable in any way elsewhere.

It was no surprise, on the way down, to find that TBH and I were left even further in the wake of the rest of the party than we had been going up. The others were all keen to cool off with a swim and/or a couple of cold beers at Ampersand Beach….

Another swim at Ampersand Beach.

The boys had found a plastic box full, I think, with floats and were having great fun ‘fighting’ over it and tipping each other into the water. You can see it on the right of the photo above. I chose to avoid the horse-play and swam out far enough to get out of my depth, which turned out to be quite a long way.

Dead Man’s Fingers. (I think).

More fungi.

We didn’t climb any of the 46 whilst we were in the Adirondacks, but Ampersand Mountain is one of the Saranac Six. I think we’re duty bound now to go back at some point and hike the remaining five? That must be a rule, surely?

Rock Pond

Adirondacks Day 8 Part 1

Rock Pond

Just south of Stony Creek Pond there are two smaller ponds – Pickerel Pond and Rock Pond. On this particular morning Prof A and his lads were busy (I’m afraid I can’t remember what they were busy with) and Prof S had work to do, so we had a little family trip out together.

It was (or should have been) a simple affair: drive along a dirt road to a small parking area…

The dirt road.

Walk about a half a mile along a path through the woods…

Fungus.

Each day seemed to bring an even greater variety of shapes, sizes and colours of fungi. This day in particular seemed to yield some very bright specimens in reds and yellows, but once again many of my photos are blurred.

Weird looking fungus.

Big fungus.

When we reached the lake a very faint path turned along the shore to the left.

Rickety ladder.

Although we didn’t see any other people whilst we were out, we did see this ladder as evidence that other people do come here. We were a bit puzzled by it as the water around the boulder seemed a bit shallow to jump in to.

The Rock Pond rocks challenge.

Prof A had challenged the DBs to get out to the farthest boulder without getting wet, which proved to be impossible since some of the stepping stones in between were submerged.

Rock Pond.

The pond is well named since it is surrounded by large boulders, with a lot more boulders in the water too. It was an idyllic spot, which, as I say, we had completely to ourselves. Amazing. B and I had a swim to the prominent boulders which you can perhaps make out in the photos above on the left-hand side. TBH and S chose to sunbathe instead.

And that should be where the story ends, except….

As we walked back, B and I waited just after we had turned away from the water, to see if TBH and S would attempt to take the non-existent path straight ahead along the lakeside. They did. I should have taken that as a warning.

For some reason, TBH lingered as we walked back and the DBs and I arrived back at the car without her. We waited. We waited some more. And then I went into full-on panic mode and ran back along the path shouting every few yards. When I say ran, I mean jogged obviously. As fast as I could manage, which is to say just a bit quicker than the boys who followed me at a walk. Nothing. Neither sight nor sound of TBH. Somehow she had managed to wander off the path. Fortunately, as we made our way back she heard us and disaster was averted. Phew!

Anyway, Rock Pond is a stunning spot for a swim and I hope I shall go back there some day. Next time however, I shall make a trail of breadcrumbs.

Big Crow and Little Crow Mountains

Adirondacks Day 5 Part 2

B enjoying the views.

Time for an afternoon stroll.

“While steep in spots, this short hike to the summit of Big Crow offers one of the Adirondacks‘ best views for the least effort.”

This from the Lake Placid tourist website. I’m always keen for a Small Hill with Disproportionately Good Views. Having said that, at 857 metres, Big Crow probably wouldn’t count as small in the UK, but the point is that the car park, Crow Clearing, is at 670m so the ascent is not huge. On the drive up to Crow Clearing I started to lose faith in our phone navigation app when the surfaced road gave way to a dirt track, but I needn’t have worried, we were in the right spot.

The woods here seemed to be particularly well stocked with fungi of a wide variety of shapes and colours, but once again my photos were not very successful.

Odd looking fungi – seemed to be a Big Crow speciality.

Leaf miner patterns?

Leaf miners are the larval stage of various insects which live inside, and eat, leaves. The patterns are very common, but I don’t recall seeing any as aesthetically pleasing as these before.

Steep in spots.

A flowering shrub.

Hurricane Mountain (dead centre). Giant to the right (I think) and…?

The views will have to speak for themselves. They really were superb, with ranks of high hills all around. Cascade and Pitchoff are relatively nearby so I ought to be able to pick those out, you’d think, but I can’t.

Hills, hills…

…and more hills.

Pano.

Not only were there hills in every direction, but woods too stretching as far as the eye could see.

The hill in the foreground here is Little Crow Mountain.

Having a rest.

Hurricane and Giant.

Hurricane Mountain was the closest hill, with a route also starting from Crow Clearing (a much longer route admittedly). Back at the house, Prof A had a book of walks in the Adirondacks which I had a very thorough peruse of. The author listed her top ten walks in the area, and the ascent of Hurricane Mountain was one of those. So one for next time.

Hurricane Mountain pano.

‘Little’ S and TBH.

TBH and Prof S took Coco the dog and turned back for the cars, whilst the rest of us took a different route down, over Little Crow Mountain.

Descending towards Little Crow Mountain.

It was steep. Very steep in places.

Little Crow pano.

Looking back to Big Crow Mountain.

Leaving Little Crow.

If I remember correctly, there was no view at all from the summit of Little Crow Mountain, but on the way down we had more views again, due to the rocky ledges we crossed.

Gathering clouds.

Many of my photos from our stay in the Adirondacks show quite cloudy skies. I suppose we did have some mixed weather, but generally the weather didn’t really impinge on our activities. But this time it was evident that rain was imminent.

‘Little’ S photographing the clouds. They were much more dramatic than my photos suggest.

We did eventually get caught by the rain, but under the trees it wasn’t as bad as it might have been, and the heavens didn’t really open until just as we emerged on to the road, where TBH and Prof S were waiting for us in the cars.

Clouds clearing.

They took us to the home of Prof A’s aunt, who lives nearby on a hillside above the village of Keene. This is the view from the balcony as the rain clouds cleared and the sun was setting.

Hanging Around I

Adirondacks Day 5 Part 1

The House.

Every holiday needs a bit of down time, a chance to relax and do nothing much. It’s a forte of mine. One morning, the rest of the party upped-sticks and headed out to do…..something energetic no doubt. I opted to stay at the ranch and read my book. I’d been reading ‘Freedom’ by Jonathon Franzen, but I think by now I had switched to ‘Anathem’ by Neal Stephenson, which was equally brilliant and enjoyable but in a completely different way. Like the other books of his I’ve read, it was very thought provoking, but at the same time a ripping-yarn. Anyway, I was intending to read my book, but I was distracted by a flock of Bluejays which were flitting about in the trees surrounding the property and occasionally venturing onto the lawns. I have several very odd photographs of patches of lawn, a wheelbarrow, trees etc which if you stare hard enough reveal a small, distant patch of blue which, with imagination, might just about be a bird.

Japanese Beetles.

There was always something to see around the house. The Japanese beetles were always about. Likewise damselflies and dragonflies. There were a large variety of toadstools…

Fungi.

…both on the lawns and beneath the trees. Squirrels could be heard chattering in the trees most of the time, and we occasionally saw them; diminutive, red squirrels which seemed to be permanently angry about something or other. There were deer about too, although they were quite elusive in the trees. One memorable, moonlit night we heard a cacophony of coyotes howling. It’s probably a cliche to say that the sound was eerie, but…well, it was eerie.

Harvestman.

Harvestmen were ubiquitous, particularly on the garage doors for some reason. Butterflies would occasionally flutter by, but I very rarely managed to catch up with them. This was a rare exception…

A Fritillary.

It’s obviously a fritillary, but which kind? I thought a quick bit of internet research would help, although given how difficult I’ve generally found fritillaries to identify in the past, I’m not sure why I thought that. It turns out that in the Adirondacks there are three fritillaries – the Aphrodite Fritillary, the Great Spangled Fritillary and the Atlantis Fritillary which are very difficult to distinguish between. I think this was one of those.

When the others got back from whatever they’d been up to, TBH was keen to take the dog for a short walk along the track.

Stony Creek Pond.

Prof A had already warned us that the track over the bridge was private, and in case we weren’t sure roughly every two yards, on both sides of the track, there were lengthy notices pinned to trees warning of the dire consequences of trespassing. However, TBH wanted to see the view from the bridge and once she has an idea in her head there’s not much which will deflect her. She assured me that injunctions on the signs were, improbably, against leaving the track and entering the trees. So we went to look at the view from the bridge. The top photos shows the channel linking the different parts of the pond. On satellite images it looks like a narrower stretch of the pond, but when we paddled through it, perhaps because of the vegetation growing in the water and the obvious flow, it felt more like a river or stream joining two separate ponds.

Stony Creek Pond. Looking North.

At the back of the pond here you can see the island we had paddled beyond, and which B and I had swum to.

Another butterfly patient enough to be photographed from very close range. Eyed Brown?

B and M taking the canoe for a spin.