Woke up to the scent of water today, as if driving up to Peck's Lake and crossing the magical boundary between town and mountain. As soon as you enter the trees you can smell the water there.
This grumpy old cloud named Florence isn't really raining so much as she is bleeding warm water, drip, drip, drop, drop....
So many drips, so many drops. Sheets down the driveway. Puddles everywhere.
So much water.
They lowered the upper dams on the river locks yesterday, from Scotia to Fort Plain. Mad props to them, as this will hopefully mitigate the threat of flooding. We have seen enough of that in the past few years. It makes for good birding with all those shorelines bared for foraging. I am hoping to get down to see how she looks, but there are a lot of busy people with other agendas in line ahead of me.
This will sure slow down the corn harvest for a few days though. Over the past week it has been astonishing to see how fast the fields have been stripped. Drive by a cornfield on the way to a reservoir we visit and see a full field of stalks and ears. An hour later nothing but stubble and the big choppers have moved on to another field and then another.
The landscape is changing fast in a hurricane of corn.
Kinda like a barber shop at a Marine base at the beginning of basic training.
And who can blame them. It is much nicer and more efficient to chop on hard dry ground than it is to wallow in mud. All this water will make plenty of that.
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| Speaking of water..... |
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