Tales of the Whetstone River: Walk with Me

Twilight was approaching on the day before my husband, Joe, and I’d be leaving our beloved country home. During the previous months Joe had suffered a series of health crises that required he be near medical specialists. This would be our final night. New owners were about to move in. I’d skipped my usual morning walk so I could pack the last of our belongings, and I was determined to take a final one.

I ran down the hill from our house and hurried as I followed the tree line, all the while scanning the bushes and trees for blossoms. It was too early for the showy displays of the hemlock or apple trees, but there was a variety of hardwoods that might be starting to bloom. A few rays of the setting sun shone through masses of dark branches. Looking up, I saw bits of the most incredible color. It was the emerging buds of a red maple tree highlighted by slices of the late-afternoon light. 

One branch of the tall tree dipped down. I wanted to look at the delicate blossoms closely, but no matter where I stood, the hill’s slope made it impossible for me to reach up to the branch.

I decided to take a photo so I’d be able to enjoy the beauty later. But then, with camera in hand, I realized that shooting straight into the sun would yield nothing. As I struggled to find a better angle, the sun dropped lower, and my last chance of a photo was gone. 

Yesterday, another day of a different decade, another day of an unimaginable time, was beautiful and sunny here in upstate New York.

It was mid-afternoon when I set out on my usual route. As I walked, I searched the sides of the road, hoping to spot a wildflower. No luck, but when I looked up, I saw bits of an amazing crimson color. The blossoms of a maple hung frustratingly out of reach in the midst of thick brambles and vines, some of which were almost certainly poison ivy. Once again, I could use a photo to replace the chance to examine the delicate blossoms more closely. I pulled out my smartphone, and spent a little time deciding how much to zoom in, then aimed toward the lowest blossom. I could see nothing. In those few seconds, the sun had sunk lower. The tree was now in deep shadow.

“Slow learner,” I chided myself. “When will you learn to just enjoy what you have at the moment!”

If there is another sunny day this spring before the maple blossoms wither and drop, I’ll forget about trying to take a photo, instead I’ll just look from a distance. Savor how those glorious bits of red decorate the dark branches.