This morning, it was so humid you could cut it with a knife. Ugh. I put on a tank top and a gauzy shirt to protect against the skeeters then headed out. I needed to clear my head after the weather events last night. There was such a sigh of relief when I awoke this morning and was assured we were unscathed by Mother’s Nature’s fury.
Yesterday marked the first full day of Summer. It’s a time to be thinking beach toys and Beach Boys and we await the return of Jimmy Buffet who is in town at the tail end of the week. But that first Summer day was marred with the threat of severe weather and possible tornadic activity was on the agenda as well. I worried throughout the day with each more dire forecast, because I am a bigtime worrywart when it comes to storms. The wicked weather was brewing for most of the day, and caused our Freedom Festival fireworks extravaganza to be moved from 10:06 p.m. to 9:06 p.m. To take my mind off the weather predictions, I logged onto Click on Detroit and found myself marveling at the event as the brilliant colors lit up the still-dusky Heavens instead of the usual inky black sky we are accustomed to. Even the idea of going to bed when a tornado watch was in effect until 3:00 a.m. today was a little unnerving. I thought about our City, which is in financial straits and with an E.M., and hoped, that the person who is in charge of sounding the tornado siren was not one that was laid off. I tried to recall the last time I heard the practice siren, the first Saturday of each month at 1:00 p.m. sharp … but my memory failed me. So, I said my prayers, turned out the light and hoped for the best.
The all-clear was sounded by dawn and I walked out the door to a mottled-looking dark gray sky, but I toted the camera along anyway.
I figured it would be too humid for the Park so opted to take my trek down Emmons to the train tracks and turn around – a nice, even four miles. Before I started my journey I took a quick trip around the house to ensure everything was in order, and, yes it was, so I was grateful for that. The only item out of place was the garden flag which had twisted around the bar on the flag stand. I flipped it over a few times and straightened it out and off I went.
I passed Ford Park and noticed the huge branches that had snapped off a Park tree a few days ago, as pictured above, had been reduced to a pile of mulch. Now that huge tree is lopsided and misshapen looking.
The sights and smells on the morning after a big rain were the usual …
The robins and sparrows were savoring their ablution in a muddy puddle in the road – their swimming hole was fashioned from a pothole. They were flipping their wings and enjoying themselves immensely.
Big fat juicy worms slithered out of tall grass blades to make a fateful journey across the sidewalks. Like the chicken who crossed the road just to get to the other side, you have to wonder why they leave their safe haven of moist earth beneath the blades of grass and make themselves a target for hungry robins? One such robin landed close by. I shooed him away but knew that as soon as I turned my back, he went in “for the kill” with me out of the picture.
The smells were prevalent as I walked along on this moist and humid morn. I passed the corner house on Emmons with the great gardens of lavender and breathed in deeply. Luckily this smell was still in my nostrils when I crossed the bridge over the Creek that separates Lincoln Park and Wyandotte. The foul-smelling odor of the brown-colored Ecorse Creek was overwhelming. I paused and stole a quick glance to see if Mama Duck and her brood were there, but they were absent again, so I hurried along, eager to breathe some fresh air again.
In the next block I passed a huge blue spruce tree and inhaled deeply, its fresh scent evoking memories of Christmas. Then a few houses down, someone must have a garden full of mint as that smell overpowered the air. I breathed in deeply, suddenly immersed in the Christmas spirit, with a blue spruce and mint plants masquerading as a Christmas tree and candy canes.
Suddenly the sun burst out of the clouds like it was running late for the bus. All of a sudden it was not only humid but warmish, so I slipped out of my shirt and looped it around my waist. The wind had picked up a bit and I could feel the shirttail flapping in the slight breeze behind me.
I got to the tracks, and there was no train to thwart my trip to the River, but I decided to just turn around and come home. As I passed Ford Park for the second time today, a large City dump truck stopped in the middle of the street. The driver stayed put, but the passenger door opened and the worker hopped out. He called out “good morning” then grabbed his shovel to pull some icky and sticky asphalt from the truck bed to pack into a pothole. I asked “well, now where are the birds going to bathe?” I got a hearty laugh from my question and he suggested that I contact the City to ask them the answer.
The breeze worked wonders and I suddenly felt a little refreshed and could’ve walked another mile or so, but I turned up my street to get home and ready for work. As I walked up the driveway, I noticed that silly garden flag had somersaulted once again and was hanging askew. Exasperated, I fixed it again and walked into the house.