Capt. Marsh's Falls

The water seems to have crested, pouring down from the Park.

 

That's a good thing!   Look at the level of the water at Marsh's Falls today -- note the birch tree on the right of the far bank, closest to the edge.

 

 

 

 

 

Compare it with the picture taken there on Saturday, just two days ago.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We even have a close up of the tree, standing fast against the onslaught of the water.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

However, all the news is not wonderful.  On the other bank from this, there is a birch tree doing its best to stand firm, but beginning to look a little shaky.  The stonework in these photos is from the old bridge that used to cross right here, at the brink of the Falls before the highway moved upstream.   The rocks have stood there, staunch and strong, for well over fifty years.  Their very strength tempts people to stand right at the edge of the Falls.  Yes, I confess I am one of those...

 

But not today.  Look to the right of the picture and you can see a sinkhole forming.  That indicates that the water has found a way under and behind those very rocks.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Looking from the opposite bank, you can see that the rocks are beginning to look less and less stable.  In fact, near the birch on the right you can see more disturbed dirt. And yes, this is the same birch that was in the fourth photo from the top in this post.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Looking farther down the bank, the water is gushing out from between and behind the stone abuttment.  I had one of those moments when I flashed back to the story of the young Dutch boy who stuck his finger in the dyke to save the town.

 

 

Here, however, there are not enough fingers available, anywhere. The water is moving through swiftly.

 

 

 

Here's is another look...

 

 And another look, from the compromised side.  That's a lot of water coming through the rocks.



Rivers are forever remodelling themselves, cutting new channels, building canyons and flood plains and deltas and curving and twisting through landscapes. It is what rivers do.  A look at the Oxtongue River from an airplane reveals the numbers of twists and turns, elbows and abandoned channels in its past history, so it is no great surprise to find it in the process of building something new.

We frequently underestimate the power behind flowing water.  This water, in flood, is deep, and fast and unstoppable.  The rocks in its path have long since been scoured to smooth edges by the constant slip of the current.  Where it meets resistance, the water flings itself in the air, and comes again, and again. 

Undeniably beautiful, it is also a fearsome creature.

We'll keep watching to see if the banks of the Falls decide it is time for some re-working.

In the meantime, caution, please. If you are in at the Falls, please give this bank a wide berth. If it does decide to collapse under the pressure of the flood, it will do so swiftly, with little or no warning, and it is not possible to tell from above how extensive the undermining has been, so do stay back.  (I love my telephoto lens!!!)