At The Potholes. August 1, 2011Posted by littlebangtheory in Art and Nature, Love and Death.
Tags: granitic gneiss, plunge pools, potholes, Shelburne Falls
Our local “potholes” on the Deerfield river at Shelburne Falls are actually glacial plunge-pools, but hey, let’s not get picky.
Here are a couple of shots taken on different days in different light. First, a sprig of that dastardly invasive, Purple lustrife:
It’s pretty and all, but I still hate that shit. Perhaps it’s pedestrian of me, but I hate to see the changes happening to the “natural world” I know. I’ve concluded that these changes are inevitable, and perhaps rightly so. Pampas grass softens the marshes of Berkshire County, and so it goes, and so it goes.
But back here at “The Potholes,” the rock rules:
There’s something palpably Munch about that shot, hand-held as it is and all.
Most summer days would see this place crawling with people, some sitting in the sun, some jumping from respectable heights, some finding rock slides and deep spots to plumb. But this year it’s fenced off and posted, which I’m not sure is legal – the river bed below a usual high water level is public property. But the cost to the town and county of responding to medical emergencies like, oh, say, drowning or breaking one’s neck or shortening one’s spine by misjudging a jump or slipping on the wet rocks and breaking bones was just too much for this little village. Legal or not (and I don’t know that it isn’t,) the closure has solved that fiscal problem, and of course, saved some incautious people from the pain and suffering of earning a Darwin award.
Still, I miss getting down in there; the rocks are beautifully worn, and in the right light, amazing to photograph. Today, these were hand-held and taken from the tourist overlook.
C’est la vie.