Even tumbling through its ravine Tinkerville Brook makes barely a gurgle today. The stream is low and slow, but my educated fingertips tell me its temperature would still register below 68F. As it drops off steeply toward Bissonette Pond, the overstory is all hemlocks, and root-spreading mountain laurel is plentiful. It’s dark here, and a breeze from Canada brings a refreshing change from this alarmingly dry summer and fall. Ferns have remained green. This Joshua’s Trust preserve echoes these Nipmuck hills, boasting a lot of maples instead of oaks, and hinting at the north country. Most of this surface water springs from Snow Hill just north of I-84, not a big deal at 1210 feet, but the highest point in Windham County. The scent of damp aging earth and gently crumbling conifers is familiar and calming.
Only one mosquito drones by my head during the hike. Where are the mosquitoes this year? Should we worry? Not bitten by a skeeter doesn’t mean I escape unscathed. See the big moss-mantled boulder in the left of this photo, where you would sit for the best view up toward the old abutment instead of down? Don’t do it; there’s a yellow jacket nest in the sunlit part, right at your feet. Just one sting and I found out I can still run fast. It’s uncommonly still here at this old stone landmark. You might sense the ghosts of the Irish gypsies (tinkers) who worked here seasonally in the 19th century, carding wool in the mills that dotted the Fenton and tributaries, and gave their name to the site. This is one of those New England places where if you know how to see it, evidence of human history is all around you– and yet it feels changeless, eternal. Doesn’t that pretty much describe what we care for at Joshua’s Trust? That aura?
A bright spot by the path, explored later on line, looks like a Russula Emetica mushroom. I’m no expert, but its common name “the Sickener” is all I need to know to avoid it. In the pools the brook makes as it traverses an old gravel pit, a Great Blue Heron and a Sandpiper stalk whatever fish have found refuge from the low water, and shy Painted Turtles refuse to be photographed. Wakes scatter across the surface from my moving silhouette. Hopefully these are native trout that won’t all get devoured, and will replenish the Fenton River watershed. Tinkerville Brook hasn’t yet been surveyed by the DEEP for coldwater fish species. I worry about our bee populations too, but… nah, not today. A pair of green frogs is more accommodating to my casual picture taking.
~ George Jacobi
