Rutland Trail, From Hallahan East

I'd finished my chores early and decided to take the dogs back to the nearby Rutland Nature Trail. We began on Hallahan Road as we usually do, but this time headed east instead of west:

Both sides of the trail are marshy and I could hear Green Frogs calling, with their voices which sound like a banjo string being plucked:

The dogs were more interested in smells and having fun:

This pink fuzz intrigued me, so I took a photo and hoped to identify it when I got home. Alas, I can find nothing online which even resembles it. I suspect it's of insect origin, but I really don't know. Does anyone out there recognize it?:

An old track bed for the Rutland Railroad, this trail is level and straight, elevated above the marshes:

And the views were stunning. Luckily, it was too cold for bugs to be out:

The dogs ran and played, sticking closer to me than usual. I barely had to yell at them at all:

This wonderful rose was, I figured, a Pasture Rose. But when I got home and looked it up, I learned that it could have been a number of species and I hadn't included in the photo the necessary details for identification. So let's just call it a wild rose:

 My knee and both ankles were painful so we didn't go far. I told the dogs we were turning around and they did so joyfully (but of course they do everything joyfully):

Pretty soon there will be a lot of delicious blackberries along this trail:

Seamus and Jack stopped to be sure I wasn't falling behind:

And then we walked the short distance back to our car:

Nicholville, New York - Part 3

I'd toured nearby Nicholville from the highway (Rte 11B), from the bridge over the St. Regis River, on the road along the shoreline of the river and from Port Kent Road. I often take Port Kent Road on my way home from the farm and these houses are like old friends to me. This is a comfortable, old fashioned small town:

This old home had a wrap-around porch of gargantuan dimensions:

I thought this home was abandoned but then noticed furnishings inside. Perhaps it's occupied:

I drove back out to the highway and noticed, for the first time, the Nicholville Fire Department:

I crossed the highway to County Route 55, a road I'd not traveled before and passed by this lovely home with its blooming peonies:

And this old farmstead with a huge bush of white flowers. I didn't know what they were:

And directly across the road was this field of purple roses:

I got out of the car to investigate and found these double roses to be wild, or more likely escaped, clearly reseeding themselves. They mostly stood on single stems about 36" tall and branched out from there:

I guessed that these were an old fashioned house planting which had gone wild. Their hardiness was indisputable and frankly, they were quite pretty. I might go back to the house across the road and ask if I could dig some up:

And a new and modern Roman Catholic church stood off in the middle of acres and acres of hay fields:

And then I began driving home where Wally and Winky were waiting. I passed by this Methodist church whose steeple bell now sits on the ground. Apparently their old steeple collapsed and a new, simpler steeple had built without the bell:

And this friendly old country house. This was familiar country, just down the road from my place. I continued on home to tend to Wally and Winky and settle in for the evening:

Quebec Brook In June, Part 3

The dogs and I reached what appeared to be the end of the trail. It didn't feel to me as if we'd gone 2.5 miles, but then it had been a straight, level and easy to walk trail. I searched for any continuation of the trail but could find none. The deer flies were becoming bothersome at that point, so it was time to turn back toward the trail head. We again passed by the marked portage with the log bridge:

And along the moss carpeted sections beneath the Balsam Firs:

I stopped to take a few photos of the extraordinarily lovely Quebec Brook and the dogs had a drink of water:

We all explored the riverbank and by this time everyone was wet except me. I too became wet when one foot slipped into the water and the dog leashes around my neck prevented my other foot from pushing me out of the water. It was a dilemma which wound up getting both of my feet quite wet. But it was becoming hot and actually felt good:

I tried to take some nice photos of the wild beauty but it was becoming increasingly difficult because of the deer flies. I held up the camera to snap a shot and at least ten deer flies were boring into my hand before I could snap the shutter. I tried to take a couple of videos but couldn't hold the camera still:

Clearly it was time to get back on the trail and head toward the car:

There would be no more leisurely stops along Quebec Brook. The deer flies were driving us forward, though they seemed to be concentrating on me and leaving the dogs alone:

I was endeavoring to appreciate the beauty all around me while I kept increasing my speed as the deer flies attacked with ever growing vigor. I called the dogs over to "heel" when we passed the spot where the Snapping Turtle had been:

Almost to the trail head. I made a mental note to return in the autumn when the deer flies would be gone:

We arrived at the trail head, a remote spot on the remote Blue Mountain Road. I fought the deer flies as I signed out, again noticing that no one else had hiked here in two weeks and there'd been very few hiking this year at all:

We all hopped back into the car, keeping the windows closed as ravenous deer flies buzzed angrily against the glass. I turned on the air conditioning:

On the way out along Blue Mountain Road, I stopped to photograph these lovely Wild Roses: