Just back from the mighty Hudson, mostly frozen over. Yesterday, crows were congregating on the ice, almost in the middle of the river. Today I didn't see them. Crows are such interesting birds. They seem to get on well with our squirrels. This observation–a little after the fact–put pay to a children's short story I started to write last year, about a blind squirrel and the "terrible crows." They're really not terrible at all, at least not as far as the squirrels are concerned. I'm looking forward to reading Mark Cocker's Crow Country, a Christmas gift.
The sun is almost down to the horizon, now. I wonder if we'll get the alpenglow on Mount Beacon this evening. Down by the river, walking past Dia:Beacon, there's a wonderful contrast between the steely hues, with lavender undertones, of the river ice and the bright orange of Metro North's track repair vehicles. They get even more orange at sunset, and the snow turns almost periwinkle blue. Then the sodium vapor street lights kick in and you'd swear you were walking through a fauvist painting, the colors of snow and shadow are that complimentary.
Yup, there's the alpenglow.
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