This morning, while my boss Robb made his 240-mile trek back from the family cabin in Georgian Bay, I was wending my way through Wyandotte, via Emmons Boulevard to the River … and back home again. Yesterday I spent five hours doing outside chores and when the alarm went off this morning and I stood up, I felt every minute of that time I logged in. It was as though a Mack truck ran over me and I was almost ready to hop back into bed. I had knots in my neck from gazing upward for so long while I washed down the house. All this walking may be stellar for your heart, but it sure doesn’t make you limber.
As I approached the small bridge that connects Lincoln Park and Wyandotte, I always stop to gaze into the Ecorse Creek to see if anything is happening. There was a Mama duck and her ducklings swimming parallel to the tall reeds so I took out my camera, poised to snap a photo of them if they moved to the middle of the Creek. The whole family, whose coloring was a drab and mottled brown, blended right into the Creek water which is murky and brimming full with old tree branches and raggedy-looking seaweed, visible just beneath the surface.
I waited patiently for a few minutes to take a group shot of Mom and her brood, but I was also eager to get on the road to avoid being stopped by the 8:20 a.m. train on my return trip. I watched the ducklings as they swam close to her side, mimicking her moves as she nibbled away at the reeds along the water’s edge. Eventually the group drifted into a small shady alcove.
A nearby home butts up against the banks of the Creek, and I’ve often passed by their privacy fence which is full of knotholes. So, on a lark, I decided to peer through one of the knotholes, even thinking I could thrust the camera lens up to the opening to get a picture of the Creek from that perspective. Well, my window to the world through that knothole was pretty good so I’ve included it with today’s post – in fact I zoomed in about a half-dozen times, taking shots at each level, and had a difficult time picking which picture I liked the best.
I then took off, before the homeowner looked out and thought I was some trespassing or up to some mischief. I headed down to the River. It was beautiful – a little warm, and the sun was glistening off the water. There were several pleasure boats out as well. I lingered a few minutes then started for home.
Once again I paused at the same bridge over the Creek. My reason for stopping this time was because I heard a frog croaking and several big splashes in the water. I decided to investigate and pulled the camera out just in case something exciting happened. Soon a jogger stopped in his tracks, came over to stand near me and asked “anything interesting in there this morning?”, so I shared my tale of the obnoxiously loud frog and some belly flopping that I figured was the frog or the ducks having a bath. I added “who can tell in this muddy water?” He told me the splashing noises were from Asian Carp which had lived in the Creek for years, then pointed to the location, just a few paces away, where there were big splashes and the churning of the water. He said it was no doubt spawning season. We watched as a few carp leapt right out of the water, coming down hard with a big belly flop. As we watched the Creek, a few curious carp came close to where we stood; I was surprised just how large they were as they darted back and forth just beneath the surface of the water underneath the bridge.
He remarked that if you gave this Creek more than just a passing glance, you’d see alot of natural inhabitants – more than you’d imagine, especially right here in the middle of the City. I agreed and said that it means more to some people than just the old crick beneath the bridge.
We parted ways and I turned to come home and finish the balance of my five-mile journey, leaving him to jog off in the opposite direction toward the River.