On the Eve of (De)Construction

Ordinarily, the scene on this part of our land is either idyllic and snow covered or idyllic and green-covered. Yesterday, for the first time in months, Jay and Goldie and I got down to the land that's upstream from us.

This is where we normally walk every day year round. Once in a while, the narrow part of the path that's right at the base of the hill where our house sits gets blocked by thick slabs of ice during ice out, and Goldie and I have to find somewhere else to walk in the early spring.

But we have never seen an ice out like this one in all the 17 years we've lived here.

This is just one of the ice slabs we encountered yesterday. Actually, it's four separate slabs that piled up on top of one another when the river rose in a fury back at the end of February. The gritty stuff you see in the right foreground is a mud-covered slab of ice as well.

In addition to the icy deposits, the river laid a two-inch thick layer of dirt and mud over all the land, covering all the plant life. There are mounds of driftwood. Just downstream from the house, the water ripped back several inches of the land, exposing the foundation of what was once a roller skating rink and dance hall called Island Park back in the very early 1960s.

The ice slabs piled up on the narrow part of our path are easily five feet thick. And this particular piece of geography receives very little sun so the melting is slow. Jay thinks we have have stuff there until June at the rate we're going.

But…and this is very important…the wild leeks are coming up in the woods. They are always the first green we see, and I nearly cried to see their curled tops poking up.