I was traveling over the river yesterday and broke out in tears.


I miss the Chemung, I am still the River Hag in my heart.


However, my little River Dog, Ellie has been gone for what seems like forever.  She's still in my heart everyday.  I love my rescue Sarah, but she's too carsick to torture her with a trip to visit my river.


I am accepting this as a different phase in my life, but I will return to my visits someday.


Just not today.

One final change to RiverHag

The RiverHag is now on disability.  River visits are now shorter, but more frequent.  Our new blog will reflect that. 

Go here from now on, and thanks for your interest!

pb

Little Pond

Warming up in May

Finally arrived at the time of year when the RiverHag looks for shadier spots to enjoy. The Chemung is on the other side of the trees. Cloudy, almost-raining days are perfect for seeing more unusual behavior in our local river denizens. The geese were lazy and enjoying the recently mown grass on the walkway. They moved indolently down the bank as we approached.

I don't know what sort of tree this is, but the catkins sort of glisten in the morning light.

And it was just beginning to clear up, so the heat chased me back indoors.

pb

Little Pond

May 2010 on Foster Island

After three weekends of rain, we are thrilled to warm our bodies while hiking the perimeter of Foster Island, out behind the historic Water Board. Happy Spring, at last.

pb

My first goslings of 2010!

Help, if you got it?

Once again I am asking for the identification of this tree. I've looked everywhere, and the best I can do is maybe an alder. The main problem with it being an alder is that they are not native to the area. In fact, this is the first one of whatever it is, I've ever seen in my life.

After about three years of watching, I finally located a berry. But it has over-wintered and is wrinkled, small, and very much out of reach. I estimate the size to be that of a pencil eraser, but I can't be sure, because it's so high.

The tree itself spreads out beautifully! Nicer than an apple or cherry, for instance. It has leaves and blossoms like those fruit trees, although the blossoms are not very pink. And the darned thing is covered with very long, hard thorns. Much nastier than even a rose thorn.

The branches tangle just like the fruit trees, but the fruit is just a tiny berry. What's more, they are gone long before they are even ripe, so I can't tell you what color they are.

It's bark is heavily grooved, and of course the tree itself is gnarled.

Can anyone give me a link to check on this thing?

Thanks.

pb

Little Pond

Very odd sound

Don't expect wonderful cinemaphotography here. Just listen. Four seconds of crackling. The river is thawing, inch by inch. Ellie was perturbed and stood at attention for what had to be three or four minutes. I thought she even whined, so I shut off the camera to see.

The sound moved downriver and she turned to follow it. There were some weird pinging and sqeaking, too. Ellie would not walk on the ice. Unusual for her, but she seemed spooked.

Me, too.

pb

Little Pond

Happy Holidays

The RiverHag hails incognito from her office in Binghamton, New York.

Peace to All.

pb
Little Pond

Halloween Day

I love the lacework that left after the leaves fall. That's the Walnut Street Bridge in the distance.

I don't know what this is, but it's pretty peeking up through the dying grasses.

These are one of two last flocks hanging around the breeding island in the City of Elmira.

The windfall looks desolate in the winter, but there is life all around and inside it.

A view of the progressing of fall, green to yellow to bare, all set off by the levee.

Don't you just love the lacework? The birds move in an out of it, never missing a beat, never getting snagged.

Storms moving in from the West, coming down from the Great Lakes.

Finally, only the Mallards are left of all the ducks. They are safe from hunting season for now.

pb

Little Pond

Query

Which Chemung River fish grows over two feet long, has thin tiger stripes (vertical, not along the length of its body) and hangs around in the shallows, hunting among the rocks.

I don't have the answer, and the river itself wouldn't sit still long enough for me to take a shot of it under the water.

It appeared to be silver colored with black thin vertical stripes.

I had to laugh, because two fishermen were moving here and there, up and down the river, without catching a thing. They were leaving, hiking back to the street, when I saw the big striped fish.

The fish was very leisurely poking around the larger rocks, flipping its tail out of the water. I took several pictures. When I got home, we figured it wasn't likely to be a perch, because of the size and shape. Not any sort of carp or catfish, because it was very bony.

Guess I'll never know, but if I were a fisherman, I know where I would throw a line.

pb
Little Pond

The fog ruins photos

I wanted to see what these were, so I shot them and checked when I got home. The geese are already done raising their goslings, so the ducks are now everywhere.

Notice how there is nothing, just nothing, in the background. The fog does that in the sunlight.

It's interesting how the rising mist is invisible to me, but not to my camera. Most of my photos were ruined.

The further away the kayakers got, the more the pictures were whitened by the fog.

Most of the time, there was no blue sky at all, but the sun was working its way through.

I love mirror type shots of the water, but I had to wait an hour for the sun to burn through enough to make them.

Even then, the clouds hung over the river. My face was slightly burned by the sun and fog. How strange, especially after a whole week of working in a windowless room!

pb

Little Pond

Gosh, the river is pretty in July.

It's beginning to get low, and that give us more places to go.

A whole new set of tree trunks hang onto the spillover after each big storm.

The lush greeness is going over to a golden tinge. A mirrored surface is a sure sign of peaceful weather.

And if you want lonely coolness, you have to find the feeder creeks and work your way up, towards the source. Stay away from the city neighborhoods, and watch for the bugs!

pb

Little Pond

After all the rain

The Chemung River is running high. Every large tree that had planted itself in the bed is now perched on the spillover dam in downtown Elmira, NY, USA.

Even the geese are someone reluctant to swim out to the channels. Waterfowl can simply let the current take them downstream, no effort at all.

The Grove Street River Access boat ramp is more than half submerged. Humans do not take their boats on the Chemung when she's like this. In the past few weeks we have had a few full-scale rescues: lucky people who are now believers when we say the river is too dangerous for swimmers.

And yes, there are more uprooted trees floating downriver to replace the ones we lost this weekend.

Watch a little bit of wildlife here.

pb

Little Pond

Riverfest Saturday

Well, no, we didn't attend. For one thing, it was a very sunny, bright day, and I hoped to find shade in the woods behind Pirrozzolo Park.

The Park itself was very busy with baseball games of various levels, all vigorously supported by adoring, very loud, families. The Trails, as we call them, were quieter, and we walked them, touching the river whenever it wasn't too difficult to climb down the banks.

All the while we watched, and were watched by, the Float participants. They were peering into the woods as we peered out.

The ruined bridge at Roricks Glen became a popular staging area, with paddlers waiting for their buddies in the shallows.

Except for a few fishermen, the paths were an almost silent refuge. Here and there, noise crows or blackbirds livened things.

The lushness of the vegetation this time of year never ceases to astound me. Deep, moist and utterly green, the hills of Chemung County tempt me to quit my job and camp out for the rest of my life.

If I could only do the sort of hiking required, I would almost never return home for more than a few minutes at a time. As it stands, I am only good for 90 minutes maximum, then it's back to base for a much-needed nap.

pb

Little Pond

It's Sunday morning, around 10:00. I was wandering along the north shoreline, towards the downtown spillover dam. These birds were very far away, and there was no way to get closer.

Even if I went over to the other side of the river, they would still be too far for a decent closeup, at least with the Power Shot.

I believe I have a pair of cormorants. One may be a White Breasted, or may simply be an immature crested.

pb

Little Pond