Same Old, Same Old River ... But Different

Sublime Seredipity

On the way to the river, I chanced upon an outdoor concert  by the Hastings Bluemothers at the Hastings Station cafe. And wouldn't you know that the second song they played, even as I decided to try out the video capabilities of the Canon PowerShot from across the plaza, was a Van Morrison classic? They do a nice set and are worth catching if you're in the area.

Late yesterday, I spied the  sunlight dancing on the river through library director Sue Feir's window on the children's reading room which, in turn, has a floor-to-ceiling window that I suspect will infect toddlers and their caregivers with the same infectious love for the Hudson I caught when my family  moved to Spuyten Duyvil  in 1962. My eighth-floor bedroom window gave me a sweeping view of the river and the Paliades from its confluence with the Harlem River to the south all the way north to Yonkers. 

As is evidenced by my seemingly obsessive blogging about it recently, the Hudson has drawn me to — and above — its banks ever since. So much so that I woke up at 4:30 this morning with the resolve to devote a special section of this site to it. Work has begun!

Yesterday, the tide was coming in but I was able to sit for an hour or so on a somewhat flat rock out in the channel a bit. It's normally not accessible. ( In fact, getting back to shore proved a bit trying. I was left with a soaking wet sneaker on my right foot.) But I got a slightly different perspective than usual. The rays of the setting sun seemed to form a path straight to Jersey in front of me, and I was able to shoot them with the camera just inches from the water. Alas, just as five geese swam up as if they were cats looking to rub against my dangling calf, the camera's battery went dead.


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