Summer finally arrived at 6:51 a.m. Hallelujah … how many times during the Winter did we long for this day? When I awoke to the shrill sound of the alarm, I found myself swaddled in blankets – it got a little chilly during the night. I glanced at the thermostat as I padded down the hall to the kitchen, and it was 73 degrees, so I nudged it up a smidge to run for a couple of cycles to ensure the little nipper, fast asleep in the den, stayed warm and cozy. It was still a little foggy when I looked out at daybreak. When I set out at 8:00 a.m. there were puddles everywhere and the sidewalk was still wet so we must have had another shower overnight. Due to the damp conditions, I decided to skip the trip to Council Point Park again and opted for a long walk to “The Dot”, i.e. Wyandotte, instead. As I walked down Emmons Boulevard toward the river, I noted that the lawns were soaking wet and dew drops dripped from porch awnings, then trickled along railings. The smell of the large Pine and Blue Spruce trees in front of the stately homes on that street emitted a strong scent, making it seem as if it were two seasons ago and I was strolling through a Christmas tree lot. As I kept walking, I heard a train whistle and the sound was long and drawn out in the still morn and I knew it had to be close as I could hear the wheels clickety-clacking as the train rattled along the track. By then I had reached Alfred Street, the crossing gates were slowly being lowered and a long train with no caboose in sight was imminent. I turned around and headed back up the Boulevard toward home. A friendly group of older cyclists rode by, each waving and calling out “good morning” as they passed me. All were clad in various fluorescent-colored shorts and tees, their collective heads all sheathed in protective helmets. A handful of hounds were out for a walk, tugging on their leads as their masters and mistresses followed close behind. I was forced to hug the lawn as these grinning pooches, pre-occupied with spending some quality time with their owners, were wont to hog the sidewalk. Quite frankly, you would not be expecting to need to give wide berth to the Fox Terriers and Chihuahuas, but they are the worst offenders. They march straight down the middle of the sidewalk exuding much confidence, leaving me to sidestep them. A few joggers and walkers passed by as well, but noticeably missing were the mayflies, which I understand are slow arriving on the scene, due to the cold Winter. I didn’t miss them. Mayflies are a fixture this time of year in Wyandotte and they were also absent at “The Crick” near the small bridge which is the boundary of Wyandotte and Lincoln Park. As I entered Lincoln Park, the sky suddenly brightened and the sun popped out. Well, hello Mr. Sun … it’s nice to see you again. It got very sunny in a matter of minutes and I checked my pedometer to find I had already racked up nearly four miles wending my way to and from Wyandotte. By now, the sun was beating down, so I detoured to walk through Ford Park, seeking a little shade from the large trees there. I stopped and removed my light jacket, looped it around my waist, intending to finish off the trek in a short-sleeved shirt. While looking for a shady tree for a brief respite, I saw a large shadow on the grass. The shadow was me and it was so sunny that my shadow was very dark. With the ¾-length coat sliding down from my waist and looking much like a long gown, and my hair fastened into a bun atop my head, my shadow looked every bit like the matronly Mrs. Butterworth whose likeness is shaped into a syrup bottle. I recognized her immediately since this is the syrup I use every morning to sweeten my bowl of oatmeal. Betcha didn’t know Mrs. Butterworth was such an awesome gal to take her own selfie did you?