It was calm and quiet when I left the house to head to Council Point Park this morning. That’s not unusual for the middle day of a long holiday weekend. Windows in homes were cracked open, so there was no contingent of air conditioner units humming along the way. Cars were scarce and people were scarcer.
It was quiet yesterday as well, that is … up until around 11:00 a.m. when the neighborhood came to life. It seemed as if everyone who did not get their yardwork done on Friday evening, decided to fire up their mowers, weed whippers and blowers at the same time. I had been busy trimming bushes with the electric shears for a couple of hours, so I, too, was contributing to the cacophony of noise. The neighborhood dogs rebelled at the whine and drone of the yard equipment and much howling and/or barking ensued.
After a noisy Saturday, topped by a series of fireworks in the neighborhood last night, this morning’s peace and solitude was welcome. I swear that when I set out this morning I could hear the slugs as they inched along the concrete, leaving their slimy iridescent trails behind them. The only sounds were the birds who were greeting me from their respective perches in each neighborhood that I passed. Poplar tree fuzzies were abundant, and noiselessly clung to my sweat suit as I walked along.
This morning’s trip to the Park was perfect … it satisfied the steps quotient for the day and provided a little wide-eyed wonderment as well.
First, I met several other nature lovers, who, like me, were enjoying the many picturesque moments this Park has to offer. And, just like me, they paused to appreciate the view with their eyes, as well as to capture the images with their cameras.
Last Friday, I wrote about the many families of geese at Council Point Park. There were easily twice as many geese there today, all segregated by their respective families. I counted at least seven families all together. You really could not look anywhere without seeing geese – on the trail, in the grassy areas, or in the water. The geese sure monopolized the perimeter path, blocking the trail as they meandered slowly across, their offspring trailing close behind them. There was much booing and hissing as we humans neared, and, on several occasions, we were forced to leave the trail and walk on the grass since they refused to budge. There were more photo ops as several families went down to the precipice and accessed the Creek, one by one, as they plopped into the water, and several families paddled in tandem down the middle of the Creek.
Another family of geese lurked in the marshy area and I got some close-up shots at that venue of the parents and goslings, but, I had already tucked the camera back into its case, when a Red-Winged Blackbird decided to antagonize this family, just as the parents were herding the goslings from the water and up the embankment. That bird tried to land on one of the parents and much hissing and wing-flapping occurred as that goose tried to shoo the Blackbird away. But that bird persisted in buzzing around the geese, until it tired of the game (or perhaps feared for its life) and flew back up to a tree.
After an absence of a few weeks’ time, the hawk was back, circling overhead, and several of us walkers stopped in our tracks, gazing up in the sky, and shading our eyes from the sun, as we watched the hawk soaring, that large wingspan taking it higher and higher, until it was just a dark speck in the sky.
I walked along with a man and woman, and suddenly, a group of squirrels gathered around us. Just like two cowboys ready to draw their pistols to engage in a gunfights at the O.K. Corral, the gentleman and I each pulled a Ziploc bag of peanuts from our respective pockets simultaneously. That was the cue, so those squirrels were just shameless – they knew both us provided treats, so they didn’t know which one to “pester” for peanuts, so they gathered at each of our feet, sitting up on haunches and begging for treats. Of course, their antics were soon rewarded.
The couple then asked me if I had seen the turtles on the log in the Creek. “No, I haven’t, but I’d really like to see them – can I tag along with you?” was my response. So, we ambled along companionably, and soon they both pointed to a log, partially submerged in the water. There was a big turtle and two smaller ones. “There are more of them when it is sunny, as they like to sun themselves on that log” the woman told me. I had to peer at them through the trees, since they advised if I got any closer, the turtles would soon seek refuge in the water. Well, there is something else to look for in my journeys around the loop.
My head swiveled back and forth and my camera was busy clicking images to share with you in future posts. I didn’t want to take the time to upload the pictures and choose which ones should accompany this blog post since severe weather will soon be on our doorstep.
For today, I am sharing a photo of a wide-eyed bunny I saw on Friday morning … he, like me, was in wonderment about the sights and sounds at Council Point Park.