Well, it wasn’t a picture-perfect day due to the cloud cover and grayish skies; it wasn’t even balmy though it is nearly the end of April. Perhaps that is why I was walking solo on the Park path this morning. The solitude was kind of nice, actually, and I could stroll and just languish at all my favorite spots along the way. I stopped to toss a few peanuts here and there as the “regulars” scampered over to get their daily nut goodies. Oh yes … I know I’m such a sucker for those little beggars, but they do make me smile.
For most of my journey, it was quiet and peaceful and all I heard was the low cooing of a mourning dove interrupted by a few starlings who decided they must serenade me with a songfest as well. While I’m not fond of starlings, they can warble continuously for several minutes and never take a break and they wear me out trying to keep pace and whistle back at them. So, I walked along, thrilling to the trilling of the songbirds, and watching an occasional bunny bop on by. The only other noise was a somber-sounding train whistle from the nearby tracks in Wyandotte which seemed to be intensified in the still morn. In fact, I was so in tune with my surroundings that I was visibly startled when I heard the train whistle blow.
Well, I’ll just bet the tail end of my headline got your attention. The goose egg for me was no ducks at the sewer drain once again. Last weekend I mentioned the lack of mallards to other walkers whom I see similarly glance that way when they pass the ducks’ usual gathering spot. We’re hoping there is not a predator of some sort that has hurt them or scared them off in recent days. I continue to take some bread along and keep an eye out for them daily. But a sight for sore eyes was these two beautiful Canada Geese which I saw gliding down the Ecorse Creek. Since I started walking at Council Point Park, I’ve never seen Canada Geese in the water – they are usually grazing in the baseball diamonds or soccer fields. In between mouthfuls of grass, they generally strut around, plop down around the perimeter Path or fly in flocks overhead. Usually, you can’t miss them with their incessant honking when they are overhead – it is like they are warning you in advance to cover your head and duck for cover. They were as graceful as swans as they glided along. Perhaps the pair was scoping out a good secluded location for the female’s eggs to be laid and protected until the big hatch. I am hoping to see a few goslings by early to mid-May and will keep my eyes peeled for any nest-sitting activity going forward. There was also a pair of geese on the Park path, and as I approached them, they started honking up a storm. I dug into one pocket to have my camera at the ready, and opened the twisty-tie on my bag of bread to toss out a few tidbits onto the path. But they were too fast for me and a second later took flight, their large wings flapping furiously to lift them quickly off the ground, honking madly all the while. Perhaps I spooked them, but, in reality, their large presence, plus their sudden, rather obnoxious honking when they had just been placidly grazing, spooked me first, though I’d never let them know that!