We were blessed with another beautiful morning, so I set out for the Park, intending to pick up the pace and add more steps to my morning walk. I hate that I didn’t make my Memorial Day walking goal, so I’ll work harder on meeting my next goal for Independence Day.
It was a breezy morning at the Park and that wind whispered through the trees (and my ears as well). The sun was high in the bright-blue sky and soon I had shucked my jacket.
Today, the walkers were plentiful, as were the moms pushing strollers – four in all, and, not just strolling and rolling along leisurely either. There are two young women at the Park who routinely jog while pushing their baby in a stroller. Energized by the beat of tunes from their iPods, these women go like the wind, whizzing past all the walkers and bikers, ponytails streaming behind them. Often their offspring’s ringlets or baby-fine hair is swirling around with each breezy gust encountered. Those babies may not be able to take in all the sights, but they are getting a good dose of fresh air and sunshine, while their moms are working to shed that “baby fat” – pretty smart idea, huh?
After taking about 90 pictures on my unhurried Sunday stroll, I’ve carried the camera, but never even taken it out of the case this past three days. I saw a large muskrat swimming in the Creek – well, that was something different, but he took a look at me, and dived back underwater. I didn’t think I looked all that scary looking, but the brisk wind had no doubt left me a bit disheveled, with my messy bun probably a little messier than usual. Oh well … muskrats aren’t really my cup of tea anyway.
The long grass had been freshly mowed throughout the entire 27 acres of the Park, totally changing the landscape from yesterday. I saw the lawn crew gearing up with their big mowers for this massive task, just as I exited the Park Tuesday. So, as a result, not as many geese were grazing as in recent days. I saw only one family and the gander was in a rather fractious mood as I walked by. Actually, I think it is the same goose who was prone to hissing and some histrionics on Sunday, while I was taking all the pictures. I wanted to say “back off Bud!” to him, as he was really riled up once again. Clearly, something, or someone, had ruffled his feathers this morning, and it wasn’t just the wind.
These pictures are of the goose who had his gander up when I first encountered him on Sunday. The picture up top I’d call “The Stare” … or, maybe “The Glare” might be a better title. Below, I later met up with him on the perimeter path, and there was that bright pink tongue as he hissed for me to stay away!
I got those extra steps done and arrived home ravenous, disheveled and a little worse for wear on this windy Wednesday, but happy for the brief escape from the City.