it wasn't asbestos. it was mold. i'd been smelling mold in my classroom for days, and had told our custodian. apparently mold isn't a problem until someone, an asbestos expert, no less, decides blowing it throughout the school could be problematic.
so home i went, ate lunch and took wendy to lampson's.
i've been coming to this trailhead for 30 years.
that's the grass river at the top of the falls.
the water was high, though not as high as it will be when the ice goes out in spring. the color of the splashes is from tannin, the water's color is brownish.
wendy knows this place well.
she found a birch log
"tideline" and shelter
this shelter was miraculously constructed against the cliff wall at the base of the falls.
looking through a new opening, a hemlock's root system exposed by high winds.
found: rock book. boulder book.
a root door?
a peaceful walk, i saw a hairy woodpecker, heard a raven, and heard the grass crowding it's way to the st. lawrence. from the blue line to the dark river.
and i have an unexpected long weekend. the word is that the building won't be ready for humans until late sunday night, or monday.