It was a tad nippy once again when I headed out for my walk today. There was not too much action going on in the streets as I made my way down to the River, so, I decided to zigzag off my beaten path to cut through Ford Park for a change of pace. That was where I passed a tall and lanky boy who was shooting hoops in the dilapidated basketball court and equally raggedy, old basketball rim and net. In the still of the morn, I heard the rhythmic thumping of the ball while he dribbled it on the cement, then the sound as it hit the backboard and crashed down through the hoop and net. He was good! I wondered momentarily if he was a local high school’s star player or he just liked the sport. Long after I passed him, though the sounds grew fainter, he kept shooting and making baskets. That got me musing that today it is basketball and tomorrow it is back to feeling more like Summer and the interest will be beach balls once again.
I crossed the footbridge that separates Lincoln Park and Wyandotte and glanced over to see a neat row of mallards swimming placidly along. I’d brought nothing for them, so all I could offer was to make them famous with the snapshot I took, so, I drew the camera out of the pouch, poised to take their photo. Though they’d previously been oblivious to me as I watched them gliding lazily down the center of the Creek, I must’ve spooked them because once they caught sight of me, they quickly sped off en masse to the safety of an alcove where they disappeared right into the reeds. Honestly … you would have thought I was Elmer Fudd the way they reacted and paddled so furiously to beat a hasty retreat.
I then kept walking, and eventually headed over to the Rivers Edge Marina and paused for a few minutes at the cement bridge that overlooks the peaceful-looking scenery. On this beautiful morning, I was surprised that not a single soul was out enjoying their boat. The only activity was a few seagulls flying precariously low. I lingered longer than I should have on a work day, but finally turned and headed for home. The gears were already cranking up and turning in my head about today’s blog post, as I formulated the description of the boy and his basketball and the handful of silent and unsociable ducks.
But, as I walked along while composing that post in my head, suddenly the return trip was not so peaceful. As I wended my way down Emmons Boulevard, suddenly the quiet morning was interrupted by a shrill siren, and then another … and still another. Three police cruisers in a row in a mini convoy were in the cross-street up ahead. Within moments, an EMS vehicle and then the granddaddy of the whole convoy – a long fire truck with its bells and whistles going and sirens blaring .
As I continued up the Boulevard, another fire engine went whizzing by me to hopefully tackle and tame the flames.
Well, all this activity lit a fire under me and I vowed to come home and press the “check” button on my smoke alarm in the cellarway to ensure it was working, something I try to remember to do around the middle of every month. But, it seems that little gadget was smarter than its owner, because I opened the door and headed inside, my thoughts filled with the unwritten post and thinking about the pictures I’d taken of the duck family, and, I totally forgot.
Later in the afternoon, I was sitting here at my computer and what did I hear but the unmistakable “chirp” of my fire alarm letting me know it needed fresh batteries. At least, I hoped that was all it required of me. At first it was a few peeps, and Buddy tried to match each little chirp, and then that smoke detector quickly grew impatient with me and so the chirps were coming fast and furiously. Buddy finally gave up keeping up with the peeps, and I decided to just put in a fresh battery and mercifully it stopped its incessant chirping – ahh, peace and quiet once again.
I guess we can add smoke detectors to the other items, that, like computers, like to think they are smarter than you are.