… and the day dawned sunny, so off I went. Today, I could enjoy the scenery a little more, because yesterday, I was about a mile out of the gate, when the gray sky squeezed out a few raindrops … then a few more.  I had unhooked the camera from my belt because it was so gloomy-looking out that I knew no good pictures were to be had and I didn’t want to risk getting the camera wet.  But, much to my chagrin, I forgot to pack it when I got dressed to go out this morning, and I sure could have put it to good use.

I noticed even more trees have leafed out and added their various green tones to this pleasing Spring palette, which, before now, was mostly pastel from those ornamental trees. I saw some stunning-looking cerise azaleas, deep purple hyacinths, daffodils in about ten shades of yellow, and, that same color scheme of purple and yellow even extended to the weeds, as those wild violets and dandelions provided a lot of color on this Spring day.

As I made my way down Emmons Boulevard, I heard about a half-dozen different birds calling out – I would like to think they were serenading me, but, of course, it was probably to one another, or, perhaps just expressing their joy in the peaceful morning. I tried several times to answer them back, but the stiff breeze dried my lips and I couldn’t purse them to attempt to match their whistles.

As I neared the footbridge that divides Lincoln Park and Wyandotte, I glanced over, as I always do, to check out who was inhabiting the rather brownish waters this morning. To my surprise, gliding very majestically down the center of the Creek was a huge Mute swan.  It was the only water fowl in the Creek, and soon it disappeared under the footbridge, so I dashed across the street to the other side to check it out from there.  Talk about up close and personal!  I had no idea a swan was that big and I watched it stop to drink or look for something to eat along the banks of the Creek.  It plunged its head into the water, then out again, and I saw its feathers were snowy white everywhere but its face and part of the neck which was tinged an ecru color.  Water dripped from its orange bill each time it stopped to nibble at the reeds along the water’s edge.  I wanted to kick myself for missing all the great shots as it looked right at me, so close that I swear I could see its eyelashes.

An early morning rain Thursday will definitely spoil my walk, so, unfortunately, the only sidewalk occupants will be the fat earthworms as they slither across the rain-slickened pavement, with the robins hopping along behind them in pursuit of their breakfast.

[Image by photographer Filio from Pixabay]