Today’s weather was the best of the bunch as to upcoming days this week. When I left the house, it was 25 degrees with northeast winds blowing at 15 mph. It was brisk and breezy and by the time I got to Council Point Park, that stinging cold left my eyes watering, and my nose running like a sieve, but hey – the sun was out!
I saw that portions of the Creek had a very delicate film of ice on top, which always reminds me of pudding as it starts to cool, you know … that very fine skin that happens when it starts to harden from the air or fridge.
There were no big birds today – at large were the heron, geese and that cantankerous male swan who had it in for me yesterday (for no apparent reason).
The songbirds were singing their hearts out, glad for those early sun rays.
This is the last week before Daylight Saving Time begins on Sunday, so back to a later departure time for the walk. And, unfortunately, we have a week of undesirable weather … an inch of snow tonight and a wintry rainy/snow mix for the rest of the week. At least, now that it is March, the snow won’t stick around for long, but it is still an annoyance.
So, I made the best of my trip to the Park today. It was so sunny that I couldn’t resist acting like a kid when I saw my shadow as I stopped along the trail to tender peanuts to my favorite squirrel. Even better, there was Parker, contently munching on his peanut, sitting companionably close by, just like a faithful family dog. I decided we both looked kind of gargantuan in our respective shadows, and, on a whim, I turned to my furry little friend and said “Parker, I am starting to look roly poly like you in this heavy coat, my pockets brimming with peanuts and stuffed with a pair of gloves.” No reply – he played it smart and did not agree with his benefactor.
Before I left the Park I made some droppings on the picnic table – half a Ziploc bag of peanuts to tide the squirrels over for a day, or two, or three … if they’re smart, they’ll tuck them away for a rainy day, because it looks like we will have plenty of those on the horizon.