Wellesley Island Nature Center / State Park
Yesterday I had an introduction to the islands, but today I actually set my foot on one!
It is forbidden to take a pic while driving on a bridge (some people obviously do...), so one has to find a spot to stop on either side of the bridge to take the pic. Challenging and usually bothersome to other drivers, but…
I knew I wanted to make it to the open performance by the river at 11 am. That did not happen. You can only have a general plan and then hope to be able to shove everything in, but in travelling there are too many unknowns. I underestimated how much I would enjoy this island, the trails, the forest and the Canadian girl I met, plus how long it would take to get there and then drive to Clayton.
Eel Bay Trail
So, here I was on Wellesley Isle at the Minna Anthony Common Nature Center. I headed on to the Eel Bay Trail towards the Narrows.
As is common in preservation parks, there are many signs and informative panels teaching you about the history, geology, biology of the area. There used to be a sea 500 million years ago and today’s sandstone has its origin from sand that was deposited then.
This pic is a sample of beauty revealed through and among the trees along Eel Bay Trail.
You wonder how the rock broke into these jigsaw puzzle pieces. An initial crack, maybe, and then the ice expanding. Nothing like ice has that power.
And, as always, a new environment is formed in between the slabs, with full succession – lichen, moss – soil is created and plants eventually kick in and on top with their unstoppable eternal vigor.
Finally, a cute little island showed up.
Bay Eel Trail converged with the Narrows Trail, leading to the famous Narrows itself, that sea pass between Wellesley and Murray isles. Totally beautiful on this gorgeous day.
Why do I get jealous when I see people down in the boat when I’m up on the hill?And conversely, while on the boat I get jealous of the people looking down from up the cliffs? That darned human psychology…
Pond Loop Trail and a Free-spirit Canadian
By the pond, leaves were already changing colors:
I was walking in my sweater and jacket, with my backpack and walking stick, while right in front of me came along a beautiful fairy, skipping, jumping and frolicking in the glory of the day: a gorgeous carefree twenty-something Canadian on a few days’ vacation. She had friends in a nearby village that she came to visit, but was on her own today. She wondered if I wanted to kayak.
Truthfully, I would have dumped the jazz festival and went along, but could not see how I could survive for 4 hours on the kayak, neither did it seem worth spending $30 for. I loved her freedom of crossing the border, changing environments and not minding getting lost, no map nor an idea where she was going. She was carrying nothing but her beautiful self.
The endless unfathomable beauty of water’s interaction with sky: