Archive for the ‘waterways’ Category
a glimpse of water fall
If you love the sound of water falling, the sparkle of water in sunshine, the feel of water beating at the back of your hand, you probably love waterfalls.
Most people know at least one waterfall. A place to go to cool off on a summer day, or to admire sculpted water in the midst of frozen winter. A place to drown the senses, to still … thoughts.
Waterfalls are musical, magical, calming and exciting at the same time. They are soothing yet, in their own way, are a violent interaction of land and water, water and land … sometimes a metaphor for a dramatic shift in the course of a life…
My seventh book of poetry honours the waterfall. It includes poetry written about various waterfalls in New Brunswick and drawings of several of these waterfalls. The manuscript won Honorable Mention in the Writers’ Federation of New Brunswick writing competition for the 2012 Alfred G. Bailey Prize for a poetry manuscript.
‘a glimpse of water fall’ is the first in a poetry series called ‘a glimpse of.’ Later this year, I will publish ‘a glimpse of dragons’ and ‘a glimpse of sickle moon.’ This latter manuscript won Third Place in the competition for the 2020 Alfred G. Bailey Prize.
‘a glimpse of water fall’ is available in paperback from Amazon. Just click here. It will soon be available from Westminster Books in Fredericton.
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Here is a sample from the book:
crescendo
Little Sheephouse Falls
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still
silence
partridge-berry vine
cascades over granite, padding
of feet on pine needles, whisper of wind
rustle in branches of conifer, music of riffle,
incessant patter of falling water on fractured slate
builds to din and rumble of rolling thunder confined
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Little Sheephouse
on its way to Sevogle
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All my best,
Jane
ice-falls in New Brunswick
An ice-fall along highway #102 in New Brunswick
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One of the sad things about the end of winter is the demise of our ice-falls in New Brunswick. Along the roads, where there are streams intersected by road-cuts, we often have a build-up of ice as it drips from the top of the cut. Some of the ice-falls are spectacular and all are dazzlers in the sun. For more about ice-falls in my blog see here.
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From my reading, I know that ice-falls begin as ‘frazil ice’, a suspension of small ice crystals adhering to soil, rock or vegetation. As meltwater flows over the surface of the frozen ice-fall, new layers are built and a cross-section of the ice will show bands of ice.
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In New Brunswick, some ice-falls are climbable, and some create caves under the curtain of ice. A famous New Brunswick ice-fall is the Midland Ice Caves near Norton. https://www.explorenb.ca/blog/icecaves
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one warm hand
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icicles seep between
layers of rock frozen
curtains separate
inner room from winter storm
glass barrier between blue
light and sheltered eyes
memory of water flows
along the face of the rock
one warm hand melts ice
consolation, condensation
on the inward glass
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(published as ‘one warm hand’, http://www.janetims.com, March 10, 2012)
Copyright Jane Tims 2018
Pokiok Falls

Pokiok Stream, about 2011
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On one of our family summer excursions across Canada, my parents stopped along the highway in New Brunswick to see the Pokiok Falls near Nackawick. I remember the white churn of water below me, so steep it looked like the water was falling into a pipe. In 1967 the Mactaquac Dam submerged the falls and now they are only a memory, visible on old post cards and in photo albums.
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For a fictionalized account of the changes resulting from the building of the Mactaquac Dam, read Riel Nason’s excellent coming-of-age book ‘The Town That Drowned‘ (Goose Land Editions, 2011).
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Pokiok Falls
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my mother held me at the railing
to see the Pokiok
plunge
from highway
to river
granite pipe
roiling water
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later, when the dam went in
they moved the churches
to higher ground
so the church bells
wouldn’t gurgle
when they rang
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now the river slips sideways a notch
to fill the round drowning of the falls
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water cannot fall within water
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I cried when I left
I hadn’t seen the pokioks
I said
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Copyright Jane Tims 2018
spring comes to the Saint John River
We have waited eagerly for spring here in New Brunswick. With late snow storms and temperatures still in the minus degrees Centigrade, my day lilies are just peeking through the grass at the edge of the snow.
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There is still ice on the river with windrows showing the last snows …
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but the ice is gradually receding, revealing vast strips of blue water …
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Every year, my husband and I watch for our own harbinger of spring …. the return of the Canada geese to the river. We went for a drive last week to find many examples of geese feeding in the bare fields and along the river edges.
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We saw geese in several fields along the way, but our best view was on a side road to one of the river’s many concrete wharves …
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prediction of spring
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necks of geese
are the steep upward
curve of charts showing:
—— longer , brighter days
——- larger areas of meltwater
——— warmer expressions of sun
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Copyright 2017 Jane Tims
an intelligent world of blue
Yesterday, we went on a drive along the Saint John River from Oromocto to Jemseg. We hoped to see some birds or other wild life. But we didn’t even see a crow!!!!
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However we did see the world painted in a sweet-toned shade of blue … the ice on the river, the long shadows on the meadows and the sky. I was reminded of Douglas Adams and his tribute to hooloovoo ‘blue’.
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A Hooloovoo is a super-intelligent shade of the color blue.
― Douglas Adams, The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy
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Copyright Jane Tims 2017
contemplation
contemplation
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still
as though cast
in bronze
mounted on rock
she watches
a strider
skate across
the surface
tension of water
ponders
his agility
the soundless stretch
of the meniscus
dimples on the water
thoughts
barely touch
the shallows
faded as the gentle
brush
of patina
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Copyright Jane Tims 2015
crossing the brook
Of all kinds of waterways, I certainly love a brook the best.
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When I was a child, I spent many summer hours playing in the brook at my mother’s ‘old home place’. The brook was in a small wooded valley between farms. The woods around the brook were always cool and shady, especially on a hot summer day.
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Building stone causeways in the brook was one of my favorite pastimes. I would find flat stones and place them like stepping stones. Then, once the stones were in place, I would plant them with mosses.
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I haven’t returned to the brook for many years, but I like to think you could still find the grey and green remnants of my causeways at intervals along the brook!
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construction of moss and stone
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in the valley between farms
a brook needs crossing
a freshet-proof ford
lattice-work built
of slate, grey stepping
stones, packed and decked with
moss, hydrophilic flourish
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© Jane Tims 2014
aromatic spring
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meadow aromatic
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ozone lightning, late
waters cede, shoots
of cattail merge
end of day, end of June
fireflies, mosquito nights
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lake-land meadow seeps
wetland meets nostril
marsh musk percolates
half sour, half sweet
methane ooze, decay
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damp fiddleheads unfurl
bird beaks simmer
in duckweed soup
skin of salamander, frog
steeplebush, meadowsweet
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angels crave human years, allow
their pores release, scent imitates
reek of sweat, of work
tears mingle with perfume
aftershave and powder
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Copyright 2014 Jane Tims
a moment of beautiful – ice windows on woodland pools
the space: pools of water in the Grey Woods
the beautiful: patterns in the thin ice
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While we wait for a lasting snow in New Brunswick, ice defines the season. On every pool of standing water, ice-windows have formed. I love the patterns these make against the amber-colored water! These are photos of ice windows taken last spring, after the snow had gone.
Copyright 2013 Jane Tims