Let’s take a walk.
Let’s go down into the valley where there’s some water.
On the Tiasquam River is an impoundment that dates back over three hundred years.
Look’s Pond was where our neighborhood fished, waded, swam, boated, and ice skated when I was young. It’s a place of many memories, and is where I began a walk on a calm and somewhat warm February afternoon.
Look’s Pond was build because of the English settlers’ necessity to have ground grain. The Look’s mill is long gone, but some of the foundation stonework remains. Perhaps five hundred feet away, on a rise over the pond, you can still see the stones that once supported the Look’s house, where the miller lived.
My stepfather once told me that at the door of the mill was hung a horn. If you got to the mill with grain and no one was around, you’d blow the horn to summon Old Man Look. Blow, and after a bit you’d see him coming, up and down over the rolling field between the house and the mill.
I stopped at one of the two dams that hold back the water of the Tiasquam.
The angle of the afternoon sun cast a surprising zigzag shadow.
Falling water is mesmerising.
You can’t see what’s under the foam at the base of the fall. It’s mysterious.
Motion, droplets, vapor and the scent of pond…
I stand, and get ready to continue on the walk.
See you later, waterfall.