On New Year's Eve while driving through Riverhead, a little early for a lunch date, I turned into Indian Island State Park and drove around looking for an image to post for the New Year. Although I haven't been drawn to landscapes lately, I was attracted to this scene, classic for the area because of the common reeds (or phragmites) on the right invading the marsh.
No matter what the season, they appear wherever you look here on the East End of Long Island. Hovering over the dunes, lining the roads and waterways, crowning private gardens, these tall grasses are always waving in the wind. In the winter they become particularly beautiful as their hue turns from straw to auburn and their fronds fill up with seeds becoming ever so bushy.
If it weren't for the reeds, this spot with no leaves, no sign of life would appear bleak. But the cattails (as I wrongly refer to them) lift the spirit. Not only because of their spiky beauty, their tufts of silk, but because of there persistence, their ever-presence.
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