This is the fourth year I have participated in the “Run for the Trees Happy Little 5K” virtual event sponsored by the Bob Ross Inc. Foundation and the Michigan Department of Natural Resources. All race proceeds support tree planting and forest protection efforts in Michigan state parks.
Last year several other states joined Michigan in a joint effort to help replenish THEIR trees lost due to wildfires, invasive pests or diseases and now, in 2024, even more states joined in these worthwhile reforestation efforts.
Michigan’s forest protection and reforestation efforts are to replace trees lost due to invasive pests like the Emerald Ash Borer and the fungal disease Oak Wilt.
Local native seeds are collected as they have the best chance of thriving in this area. Then Michigan Department of Corrections inmates raise these native saplings that are later planted by volunteers. According to our DNR’s website, visitors to state parks where trees have been planted will see bright green “Happy Little Trees Ahead” signs to note the program’s important contributions.
The “Happy Little Trees 5K event” launched in 2020 was named for the legendary nature enthusiast and painter Bob Ross who wowed us with his paintings of peaceful nature settings. However, the use of inmates to cultivate tree seedlings for planting by volunteers is now in its 20th year and has produced more than 100,000 native plants, shrubs and trees since its inception, with 2,100 trees planted in 20 state parks across Michigan since partnering with the Bob Ross Inc. Foundation. The Michigan Department of Natural Resources vows to plant 50 million trees by 2030!
Planting trees – now this quote is all about positivity:
This event is well-run and I received my race swag a month ago …
There are really no rules except participants choose a venue to run, walk, bike, skate or paddle the equivalent of 3.2 miles/5 kilometers sometime between April 22, 2024 (Earth Day) and April 26, 2024 (Arbor Day).
So, I am cheating just a little and I did my 5K a day earlier.
Even though I’m sure the weather will cooperate tomorrow, Mother Nature is NOT the reason for my tripping along the perimeter path a day earlier.
In the past I’ve chosen woodsy venues to walk my 5K. This year I picked Council Point Park, not just because it is my favorite nature nook this past eleven years since discovering it on April 26, 2013, nor is it because it celebrates its 30th anniversary this year.
This Park was my pick due to the changes that are afoot at this venue.
More about that later.
Some of my best childhood memories were spent out in nature.
Every visit to Council Point Park takes me back to my childhood, running free with my little friends in an area of undeveloped property at the end of the street where I lived from age two to ten. This piece of land also had a creek running through it and all the neighborhood kids played there, whether flying kites, lying on our back looking at the clouds, collecting buttercups in our chubby fists for Mom, or scooping up tadpoles with Red Rose sweet pickle jars. It was where I spent countless hours of free time and developed an affinity for nature at an early age.
By the time we were ready to move to the States, urban sprawl took over and this place of joy was cleared to build Hopedale Mall.
So, I called it serendipity that I discovered this venue the same year I began my blog. While I love walking in larger parks, there is a certain delight in being in a familiar place, a feeling of belonging to “my” park. I know each turn in the perimeter path, where to watch for black ice when there’s a chill in the air from mist rising from the Creek making the path parallel to the water slick. I know which trees will leaf out first and which will likewise drop their leaves in early September. I watch squirrels fatten up, courtesy of Mother Nature, as the temps grow colder and I welcome the trill of the Red-winged Blackbirds signaling Spring when these beautiful birds return to the marshy area of the Creek.
And then there is the day-to-day charm of this Park as seen in these photos.
Of course there are the squirrels with their antics, scrambling down a tree and scurrying over for peanuts.
I know they think I see them better if they stand up.
I must overwhelm them with my 5′ 9″ (175 cm) frame.
Parker is my favorite, but refused to pose for this post … your loss Bud!
A Redbud sapling brightens up a still-blah landscape.
The “Twisted Tree” at the Point has leafed out, but look closely at this branch.
A message was scrawled along the branch.
A patch of Flax brightens up the grass near the Twisted Tree.
Dandelions sprinkle the grounds – soon they will be everywhere.
Along the shoreline of the Ecorse Creek, an eruption of green.
Still another Canada Goose with a bum wing. It looks painful.
A Red-winged Blackbird silenced for once. They are raucous sometimes.
It’s “good worming” for our Robins – we’ve had a lot of rain this Spring.
This is a partially leucistic Robin.
A totally leucistic (all-white) Robin happens just once in 30,000.
Leaves are still unfurling … it’s a slow process.
Part of this small Park’s ambiance has waned over the years.
Sadly I’ve watched tree cutters come here and fell beautiful trees, which left me shaking my head. The perfect harbinger of Spring each year was a gorgeous Redbud tree that erupted into vivid shades of pink, perfect for capturing images of the goslings as they huddled together beneath it. But one day I went to the Park and the tree was gone – only the stump remained and does to this day. It wasn’t diseased, nor was the huge Juniper, home to Golden-crowned Kinglets that flitted in and out of it all Winter.
One does not have to be a tree hugger to wonder why?
Now my biggest bugaboo is worrying about the fate of my favorite park.
A huge amphibious bulldozer has been parked in the parking lot at Council Point Park for three weeks. Yes, it is brand-new as you can see from this picture.
And, this powerful piece of machinery will make its inaugural dredge right here at this park, then follow the Ecorse Creek through other parks clearing the Creek of debris, like fallen logs, but removing long-dead trees hanging off the shoreline and bowing down to the water.
But wait, there is more.
They are widening the Creek by 15 feet.
See the orange lines/surveyor’s ribbons in these photos below? This will be the new shoreline and this machine will chomp up brush and trees to do this project. This morning I saw two smaller earth-moving machines were alongside this behemoth pictured above. Take a closer look at the orange lines in these photographs, because this will be where the shoreline soon will be. Look at the trees that stand between the Creek and the orange line.
This project will mess with Brian Skinner’s memorial tree’s roots. His family assembles around the tree a few times a year on his birth/death dates and they put seasonal decorations on it.
And this operation will mess mightily with Rex, the Red-bellied Woodpecker’s favorite tree, albeit a tree so holy and decimated for many years now that you have to wonder how he still ekes out grubs from it.
There won’t be much space between the Creek bank and the walking path, so the mist from the water, with no brush and saplings to act as a buffer, will cause black ice and slick conditions.
So is this a good thing?
The Creek will flow smoothly, rid of its debris, but what about those that critters that rely on those fallen logs for protection from predators?
Or the row of turtles that like to sunbathe there, stretched out in a neat queue on those fallen logs on hot Summer days?
Squirrels’ nests are in the trees that fall within these orange lines and orange surveyor’s ribbons. Kits (baby squirrels) are born in mid-March to April and with eyes shut, are helpless, up in the nest and are not weaned and able to leave the nest for six weeks.
Also worrisome is the fact that geese nest along the shoreline and, although I never see their nests as they hug the shoreline, then suddenly a family of goslings emerges, so what happens to them? I spotted the first family on Monday, April 8th, much earlier than usual, but at least that family is safe as they can paddle away from this huge machine. Will they remove the nesting geese?
So, I am worried about the fate of this park, but then who am I, but a walker whose feet have tread millions of steps, fed an infinite number of feathered and furry friends and captured their images with my camera to share with you.
The below info gave me cause to pause as well ….
It’s difficult to believe that my burning issue a few months back happened after a morning chat with Jacob, the Park’s resident catch-and-release fisherman. I will admit to being gobsmacked after Jacob asked me if I ever peer into the Creek and see the Goldfish. When I said “no” he told me to look closely as they are huge. He told me they are as invasive as Asian Carp and are in fact a type of Carp and he caught 32 large Goldfish in 2023. He alerted the Michigan Department of Natural Resources and sent them photos of some of these Goldfish, but did NOT throw back into the water. The DNR said they are to be disposed of; some people shoot them as they are not edible. Jacob said the DNR is going to come to Council Point Park and “shock” the water to destroy them at one time.
Hmm. So, the rest of my walk that morning, I wondered what happens to the other fish, the heron’s daily fish breakfast and the turtles … wait a minute … do they clear the waterfowl out first before shocking the water? Yikes!
I admit that I do “overthink” things sometimes.
Okay, the term “tree hugger” can have negative connotations … so call me a tree hugger if you must, but I despise the idea of what this will do to the flora and fauna in this Park, especially during nesting season. Yes, the authorities claim it is better for the health of the Creek to widen it and clear out the debris. I hope they are right.
I understood the work was to begin on April 8th, but as of this writing, it has not begun, but we have had a slew of very rainy days as well as volatile weather, so perhaps that has kept the project from starting timely. But, in the event the project begins tomorrow, (which I suspect it will due to the arrival of these new machines), I got my walk in today and have been taking pictures this past week as Spring has unfurled and the landscape has gone from blah to beautiful.
Google tells me “Earth Day has evolved into the largest civic event on Earth, activating billions across 192 countries to safeguard our planet and fight for a brighter future.”
I remember the inaugural Earth Day in 1970. We received a pine seedling from the grocery store. Mom found a small planter and potting soil then nurtured that seedling until it was established enough to be planted outside the following Spring. I think that wisp of a tree looked mighty inviting to the bunnies or squirrels because I never saw it again. Weeding was one of my chores back in the day, so perhaps I grabbed it thinking it was a weed.
I hope we humans can strive to create a better environment for all of us for our future. I sure hope the incidents cited above are good intentions, though neither of them look too rosy to me.
I am posting my Earth Day post and stats (5 1/4 miles/8.44 km) today as who knows what the Park will look like tomorrow, or the days to come, or even if we will be allowed to walk the perimeter path.
I know I’ve used a variation of today’s blog post title in the past, but I’m choosing it again since the word “diamond(s)” will do triple duty for this week’s picture-laden post.
First, my birthstone is diamond – I was born on April 14th. So, just for fun, I Googled to learn more about my birthstone and the Gem Encyclopedia website enlightened me a little:
“Sparkling with an internal fire all its own, diamond is one of the world’s most sought-after and adored gemstones. Those born in April are lucky enough to call this scintillating gem their birthstone, a symbol of clarity and strength. Diamond is so strong, in fact, that its name comes from the Greek word “adamas,” which means “invincible” or “unbreakable.” The timeless charm of diamond was cherished long before it became the April birthstone and the places where diamond comes from are as fascinating as the lore that surrounds it.” – Gem Encyclopedia website
Gee, I hope that Your Roving Reporter is like a diamond as she hopes to stay “invincible” and “unbreakable” for her next trip around the sun … and beyond.
February 4th … finally some normalcy in my walking regimen.
As I wrote in a recent post, our predicted El Niño Winter weather was sure to be a welcome change from the cold, snowy and icy season we’ve come to endure here in the Mitten State. But then January arrived and Mother Nature unleashed an ugly combo of snow, freezing rain, wicked winds and a Polar Vortex that kept me housebound for several weeks. I bemoaned not getting to Council Point Park to feed the critters, but didn’t want to risk a tumble on the ice. I know friends and fellow bloggers had assured me repeatedly during this ugly weather siege that my Park pals would be fine because they are adaptable, but you know I still fretted over them. Finally, February 4th looked promising – sunny and bright, clear roads and a high temp of 45F (7C). I made the best of that day, stopping first at Council Point Park, then taking a 30-mile roundtrip visit to Lake Erie Metropark where the ice and snow lingered and I witnessed the feathers-flying fracas between the Mute Swans; you can click here in case you missed that post.
Many hours later I returned home happy from those two excursions and packing 100+ photos on the camera card, thankful that a perfect “diamonds day” had emerged from the drudgery of the depths of Winter.
The sun’s rays made the ice sparkle like diamonds.
I was eager to begin my walk at Council Point Park on this beautiful, sunshiny morning. I hopped out of the car and scurried over to find my furry and feathered friends. There were pretty reflections where the ice had parted.
The frost was heavy along the shoreline …
… and a few dabs of snow remained, but mercifully there was no ice on the perimeter path.
There is no way I can count noses and beaks but, whether they recognized ME, my bright-red coat, or their “feed bag” I always tote with me, (take your pick – it’s most likely the latter), they scurried over or swooped down to greet me. I even fed my furry and feathered friends along the perimeter path, something I only do when the hawks have migrated and won’t be using my Park pals as prey.
As I made my rounds to the three usual spots where I drop the bulk of the peanuts or seeds, I saw the squirrels peering from trees as if to say “I hope you brought goodies – we’re starving – you told us before the first storm, you’d be back in a few days!”
Next year I swear I will leave a trail of breadcrumbs from the Park to my house or provide Ziploc bags of goodies for them when we are expecting bad weather.
Below are a few of my favorite pics from this walk.
Lookout squirrels dot the trees.
A few squirrels … yes, cute poses, but somewhat indignant looks over my long absence. They got past that mindset as they silently munched peanuts and/or sunflower seeds. I was the only walker that morning and I enjoyed the peaceful sounds of those peanut shells dropping onto the ground and the whir of wings as birds swooped and grabbed a seed or peanut to go.
“I’m very cold and hungry – wish I was wearing lotsa layers like you.“
“Do I smell peanuts – Linda has arrived!”
“Ya, I may look fat, but it’s my fur, not ‘cuz I’m full of peanuts!”
“This annoying stick is in the way – will Linda see me?”
“The simple joy of peanut bliss.“
“Will you pass this way again or should I hide some?”
“I’m claiming it all for me – where are the others BTW?”
“Take the peanuts and run – that’s my motto!”
“Hope the Chickadees don’t see me scamming THEIR shelled peanuts!”
The birds seemed more forgiving, although they probably leave the Park and scour the neighborhood for bird feeders; I doubt most of the Park’s squirrel population ever leave this venue.
“”Lucky me – I have a bird’s eye view to grab a peanut or two.”
“I love me some peanuts – maybe I’ll swipe some for the Missus.”
“Sunflower seeds or peanuts … or both?”
I saw Jacob and another guy fishing with young Julia in tow, whom you might remember from Summer pics of her fishing with a rubber worm. Julia waved “hi” and wandered over briefly after she saw me chatting it up with the birds and squirrels.
My camera card is now empty of images from Winter 2023-2024 and I hope we can say goodbye to Winter-like weather until November.
I was already a preteen, not a preschooler, when the TV show “Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood” hit the airwaves. I am sure it had all the sweetness and charm of MY favorite preschool TV programs including “Romper Room” and “Captain Kangaroo” with the Captain’s fun cast of characters, including my favorite, Shari Lewis and her puppet named Lamb Chop. Every kid in those days had their own Lamb Chop so they could be a puppeteer just like Shari Lewis. Afternoons I was parked in front of the TV to watch “Captain Andy” and “The Mickey Mouse Club” – how I wished I could be a Mouseketeer, but I had to settle for donning my “ears cap” and singing the theme song off-key, but with great gusto.
So, on a sunny Easter Monday, as I strolled through the neighborhood, camera in hand, I entertained myself with a fun flashback of childhood memories, all brought on by the phrase “It’s a beautiful day in this neighborhood.”
My treasure trove of photos and narratives for excursions taken in 2023 now has dwindled down to three and I have one more Winter 2024 walk to share next week, so this is fresh fodder! While these days I usually drive back and forth to the Park to give the car a little run, I walked that same two-mile round trip route for many years and, along the way, I’ve come to know each home where those Spring flowers pop up every April, so I aimed to track down those blooms and photograph them.
We’ve certainly had enough showers to encourage those April flowers. In fact, I knew if I didn’t take my stroll Monday morning to glean pictures, the upcoming week of predicted gusty winds, torrential rain showers and light snow would likely put the kibosh on picture-taking as those pretty flowers would be bedraggled looking.
So here’s the best of the bunch of those early bloomers.
Dark purple Crocuses flourished at the base of a tree …
… alongside neighboring Snowdrops and Violets.
I like both the faintly striped and solid lavender-colored Crocuses nestled in last year’s leaves …
… but don’t these yellow Crocuses look a little out of place?
The sunny yellow Daffs were cheery; some were fully open and others still closed up tightly.
A pretty-in-pink Hyacinth …
… and a sprinkling of “Spring Beauties” were reminders of how hardy these plants are to re-emerge year after year. We may have had an El Niño Winter, but a Polar Vortex also parked itself over Southeast Michigan in mid-January bringing brutally cold temps.
Unfortunately there were no tulips in this Spring flowers mix – their sturdy leaves are just beginning to push through the still-frozen earth. So, that will be a theme and a song (think Tiny Tim) for another post.
I do my best pondering of life’s mysteries while walking along a nature trail, my thoughts interrupted only by birdsong and squirrels clamoring for peanuts at my feet. Yes, I feel like Snow White sometimes.
So, on the cusp of Easter, I ask you this question: “What does the Easter Bunny do when his gig is over and he retires?”
Years of hopping and bopping down the bunny trail kept this fella limber, so likely, since old habits never die, he packs a few carrots and goes on a long hike …
… or maybe catches up on his TBR book pile …
… and, if he’s still young at heart, that retired Easter Bunny might just while away the hours with simple joys.
Just like Peter Cottontail, I also will be doing a lot more hopping and bopping along the many trails here in Southeast Michigan …
… catching up on my reading …
… and loving every minute of the simple joys that await me now that I am retired.
Spending more time in nature is the best present I can give myself and it keeps on giving as I carry home the images of the day in my mind, on my camera’s photo card and then share them here in my blog.
Happy Easter to all of you. I hope your Easter basket is similarly filled with joy and blessings (and maybe a little chocolate too). Please click here for my Easter greeting.
This post’s vintage bunny photos are from Rebeca Green’s Etsy site “Atlas Vintage Prints” and I am sending Rebeca a link to this post as I told her how I would use these sweet bunny prints.
It was a gorgeous August day – not your typical August 13th muggy and buggy morning. I’d already walked almost five miles at Lake Erie Metropark, so this was intended to be a short walk to look for the ever-elusive Wood Ducks.
In the four years since Humbug Marsh opened, at the beginning of each walk, I have a routine. I glance over at the Monguagon Delta and if I don’t see any waterfowl to photograph, I will make the Delta my last stop before heading home. Well there were no waterfowl present, so I headed straight to Humbug Marsh.
The entire DRIWR consists of nearly 6,000 acres of unique habitat, including islands, coastal wetlands, marshes, shoals, and waterfront land extending along 48 miles of shoreline and supports 300 species of birds. I have only visited the Humbug Marsh Unit of the Refuge …
… perhaps I’ll explore the rest of the DRIWR this Summer.
Humbug Marsh is the last mile of undeveloped shoreline along the U.S. mainland of the Detroit River. I strolled along the trail through the Old Growth Forest which is 300 years old and filled with thriving Shag Bark Hickories which can grow up to 100 feet tall and live for 350 years. You can see where the Old Growth Forest is located on this map below.
On the raised platform I checked for Eastern Fox Snakes slithering across – whew, none!
I passed the vernal pond, but nothing was happening there.
At the end of the Old Forest trail was a viewing platform and a marshy area where I found a few Purple Loosestrife …
… and some Cattails.
There were Pond Lily buds on Lily pads that gently bobbed in the water.
Nearby, a solitary Great Blue Heron patiently scanned the water for fish, ready to stab one with its long beak.
As I stood on the viewing platform, I scanned the sky when I heard a rumbling noise overhead. I could see a large plane approaching and, from its shape, I knew it was likely an antique plane participating in the Thunder over Michigan Air Show later that day.
I am not an expert in antique planes, so a Google Image Search helped identify this plane as a B25 Mitchell World War II Bomber.
[Just hours later, the news reported that an antique plane, a Mig 23 fighter jet, had engine failure in the finale of the show, which was held about 25 miles from Humbug Marsh. The pilot and backseat passenger ejected into a lake and the plane crashed and exploded near an apartment building. There were no lives lost and no property damage except the plane.]
On my return trip to the Delta, I passed this tree with an impressive statistic.
The pollinator gardens were looking good. When this venue opened to the public in 2020, there was extensive planting done to encourage bees and butterflies.
And, just like home gardens, weeds infiltrate every chance they get.
I was able to find three butterflies at these gardens; first, a Monarch on the Milkweed pods …
… and a Monarch that flitted around the Butterfly Weed.
A pretty Pearl Crescent Butterfly stopped me in my tracks; happily I saw it on the ground and didn’t step on it.
These wasps were glommed onto this solar light post, so I stood a respectable distance away and zoomed in on them.
Speaking of those little buzzing buggers, bugs ARE the bane of my existence. I heard that it wasn’t cold enough to freeze a lot of our bugs over our El Niño Winter, including ticks, so they might arrive earlier than usual and in abundance. Ugh!
On my walk that day there were many signs warning of ticks. This is one of them.
This is the damage caused by webworms – only the skeleton of the leaf remains. I have photos from another venue that I’ve not yet written about and most of that tree’s leaves are transparent and a huge web enveloped the tree.
I didn’t have to check my pedometer to know I had walked a lot of miles, so I had one more stop, the Delta, then could call it a day.
Urban sights and nature sites?
As mentioned at the beginning of this post, my last stop at this venue was the Delta Pond. A Heron or Egret sighting will have me walking the long, railing-free Monguagon Boardwalk pictured below. The kayak launch platform is in the foreground.
If you are a first-time viewer of this venue, you may be scratching your head at the above photo wondering how a wildlife refuge can thrive while embedded in a seemingly industrial setting; even the DRIWR signage is mere steps away from busy West Jefferson Avenue.
Here is a photo showing close-ups of the industry surrounding the DRIWR.
Urban sights and nature sites would seem to be an unlikely pairing.
Overlooking the Monguagon Delta is a huge metal statue, the reflection which I captured in the header image.
In the past I tried to glean info about this metal artwork to no avail, as did fellow blogger Zazzy who was interested in its origin. I contacted the DRIWR and got a very helpful park ranger named Maddie Drury and she researched and sent me some facts about this artwork.
My many photos taken at various parks along the Detroit River and at Grosse Ile may look picturesque; that is, if you ignore the twin, 536-foot tall, red-and-white smokestacks which always marred the horizon. You can see the smokestacks reflected on the Delta Pond, in this post’s header image. The “Stacks” as locals have always referred to them, belonged to the Trenton Channel Power Plant, a nearly 100-year-old coal-fired facility in Trenton.
Note the words “marred”, “referred” and “belonged” … as in the past tense.
The Trenton Channel Power Plant was decommissioned in December 2022 as our energy provider DTE decided to implode the entire plant and hinted that green space would replace the large property. Unfortunately, now the plan will be to build a facility to house batteries.
All hazardous materials were removed from the site and the demolition was scheduled for two parts: March 1st for the “Stacks” and May 17th for the boiler house. The public was welcome to view the implosion in safe, designated spots.
So, I hustled to the Refuge for one last shot of the “Stacks” intending to make a Wordless Wednesday post entitled “Going, going, gone”. It was a blustery, frigid February morning when I took this shot …
… then the implosion was abruptly rescheduled to March 15th, with no explanation given.
On March 15th at 7:00 a.m. a crowd of approximately 200 people viewed the implosion which used 500 pounds of dynamite at the base of each smokestack, collapsing one, then the other in a choreographed fashion. I found it fascinating to watch that video. If you are interested, you can view the short video right here.
After the dust settled, local folks took to social media to wax nostalgic for those twin candy cane smokestacks, declaring them a navigational beacon for sailors and pilots since 1924 and bemoaning their fate.
So, now you know that urban sights and nature sites CAN live in harmony.
Linda Schaub
WALKIN', WRITIN', WIT & WHIMSY 