WALKIN', WRITIN', WIT & WHIMSY

… to bend the rules just a tad.

Since purchasing my first Metropark pass in the Summer of 2018, I have made countless excursions to various Michigan Metroparks, especially my favorite, Lake Erie Metropark.  

The first year I practically wore a path driving to/from this venue, not only for weekend meanders, alone with my camera, but I also took multiple interpretive group walks, plus two different interpretive boat excursions on Lake Erie and the Detroit River.  

On my first interpretive event led by long-time guide Paul, just as we ended our woodsy walk, I saw a squirrel and since I always have a peanut or two stashed in a pocket (because you never know when a poses-for-peanuts photo op might happen), I reached into my pocket to toss a peanut to that squirrel, who, mind you, was NOT begging, but just happening by.

Paul saw me and just before I launched that peanut, I got the equivalent of a scolding AND a hand slapping when he informed me that WE do not feed the wildlife in the Metroparks, with the exception of the Nature Center at Kensington Park where it is okay to fill your open palm with treats or seeds and birds will alight and feast without fear.  However, feeding the bold and brazen Sandhill Cranes that will come up to you and poke their pointy bill into your pocket hoping for a treat is not allowed.

Okay … got it.  I put the peanut back into my pocket and saved it for where feeding is allowed, i.e. state, county or city parks and, of course, my favorite nature nirvana, Council Point Park.

So, lesson learned. There are also many signs throughout Lake Erie Metropark, namely that dogs must be leashed, no diving or swimming allowed and no stopping on the side of the road.  I’ve always abided by all the park’s rules, even though I often see drivers pull over and their passenger will snake their arm out the window to snap a few photos or a video of deer. But, unfortunately, for me it seems in this four-mile, 1,607-acre park, I generally see more deer while I am driving in/out or around the park, so stopping is not an option.

But on the morning of July 19th this year, things were, let’s just say, a little different.

Something to fawn over.

During the Spring and Summer months, on each excursion to this park, I hoped to see new life – oh, there were plenty of goslings toddling after their parents on the shoreline, as well as ducklings streaming out behind Mama Mallard in the marsh, photos I’ll be sharing in the coming months.  But, I hoped to see a fawn or two and if the resident Sandhill Crane pair produced a “colt” the term for their offspring.

So, on that July morning, while driving to the Offshore Fishing Bridge where the Sandhill Cranes generally hang out, I glimpsed a flash of brown in a wooded area.  I slowed down and saw a doe and her fawn.  This was not the sweet, wobbly-legged Bambi I was hoping for, but it was a fawn, still with its spots and positioned close to its Mama.  Ahh – yes, I was smitten. 🙂

They were near a small road, just off the main road, with a locked gate, so I knew no service vehicles were arriving anytime soon.  Thus, I figured I could pull in, stop and get my shots, then head to my original destination, all within minutes.  

Mama and Baby paused, while munching on some greenery, just as I flew out of the car, grabbed the camera, not even bothering to shut the door, lest the noise would scare them and the pair would bolt.

As quickly and quietly as possible, I got a few shots in …

… and, while Mama was probably aggravated with my presence, the fawn seemed fascinated as we locked eyes …

… but, this magical moment (for me anyway) was soon lost as the pair seemed suddenly spooked by my presence.  Mama turned around and daintily hopped over the fence, the wires of which are barely discernible in this picture below …

… then the fawn tried to follow suit, but could not jump that high.

Even though the fawn was big, it tried a few times, but was unable to scale that fence.  Had it been tinier, it would have simply squeezed between the fence and gate.   

It stood wondering what the heck to do …

… and then ran back to where Mama disappeared.

While it ran parallel to the fence, plaintively bleating for its Mama, it was kicking up its heels and flashing its white tail, for which the description of its species “White-tailed Deer” aptly applies, Raising its tail vertically is known as “flagging” and it means a deer knows something is wrong and is attempting to make an escape.

I wondered why Mama wouldn’t look for her fawn, then I felt incredible remorse having created this distress for the fawn.

But then this sweet fleet-of-foot fawn eventually realized that if it gained some speed, with just enough oomph …

… it might just hightail it over the gate, which it eventually did.  Yay!

So, of course you are now wondering why I didn’t complete the series of photos showing you the fawn flying over the fence and reuniting with its Mama?

Well, there was a situation … an intrusion if you will.

As I watched the fawn’s final attempt to jump the fence, a car stopped on the main road, then a gentleman I’ve spoken to in the past came rushing over to me.  His name is “Jim” and he lives nearby, so he drives through the park several times a day, stopping if something piques his interest.  Thus, my parked car, with the door flung open and me taking photos piqued his interest.  He asked “what were you taking pictures of?”  I said “a doe and a fawn, but they’re gone now.”  He proceeded to tell me that he’d seen a herd of deer passing by as he drove out of the park at sundown a few days before and … well, Jim didn’t finish his tale as one of the park rangers veered off the main road, pulled behind my car and walked toward us.  The ranger asked me if I was okay and I nodded my head “yes” expecting to be chastised for pulling into the service drive.  Instead, in a stern voice he told Jim not to stop on the side of the road again, then turned on his heel and left.  We got into our respective vehicles and vamoosed.  Whew!

I headed toward the Offshore Fishing Bridge and it was devoid of anglers and the Cranes.  I didn’t even park the car, opting instead to walk on the Cherry Island Trail.  

As I started on that trail I wondered if there would be any more adventures here today? I didn’t have to wait long to find out! 

Behold both of us bending the rules here!

I started on the road to the trail and saw a doe standing motionless in the marsh.

She seemed unfazed by my presence and began fixing her gaze on me, a/k/a the intruder.

The doe peered into the marsh water – did it like its reflection?

Oh, she didn’t fool me – she was not admiring herself, but instead checking out which Lotus leaf to eat first!

I hoped to get a photo of her chowing down on the Lotus leaves, but unfortunately I heard, then saw, a massive mowing machine coming around the corner toward me.  Yikes!  Well, there went the photo op …

… or maybe not?

The mower’s operator gave me a thumb’s up, a smile, then went around me.  I mouthed “thank you” for that courtesy, just as the doe bent her head and began chowing down on a small Lotus leaf.  

The mower’s loud noise and cloud of spewed-out grass clippings soon rounded another bend …

… and was out of sight.

Wow – two free passes to take pictures where I shouldn’t be in one day … I must’ve been living right!

I’ve mentioned before that even though Michigan generally does not have the temperate climate you’d expect to grow delicate Lotuses, Lake Erie Metropark boasts having the largest and most accessible American Lotus beds in Michigan.  They are dormant in Winter and the leaves emerge in early Summer, peaking in late August.  Here are some I saw that day – not many blooms yet and the leaves weren’t all that large.

The American Lotuses are protected plants and humans are not permitted to pick the blooms, leaves or even take the dead seed pods – doing so will result in a fine.

But that doesn’t stop the wildlife from munching on them, like this deer and the muskrat in last week’s Wordless Wednesday post. 

Next it was Swan Lake, er … Marsh.

At this point in the Cherry Island Trail, you  may opt to walk along the road or on a wooden overlook.  The overlook spans across a large marshy area and still more Lotuses and even a few Pond Lilies.

From the overlook I saw them, a family of Mute Swans.  Like the doe with her fawn, these were older cygnets.  This was a large family – usually a Mute Swan will lay between four and ten eggs.  I’ve never seen more than three offspring with their parents, but I counted six cygnets.  Yes, my lucky day all around it seemed!

I watched the family for a while, trying to capture as many family members in the photo without any being obliterated by the Lotus leaves.  Just as I was ready to click the shutter button, I heard a small motor humming.  “Now what?” I mumbled.  This guy was also on the overlook and coming toward me, likely to do some maintenance.  Sigh.  So was he going to chase me off here? 

He parked his vehicle, but remained at the other end of the overlook, eventually crouched down doing a repair of a wooden railing.  So, while I didn’t get the proverbial “free pass” this time, I was able to stay and get my shots of the lovely Mute Swans and their cygnets. 

Here are the parents, guiding the way for their cygnets …

… and a few close-ups of the adults, male first, then female. The male has a larger knob at the base of its beak.

As mentioned previously, these are older cygnets who do not look like a “mini-me” of the parents. Cygnets don’t get their white plumage until they are a year old and their orange beak and black “mask” will appear after that time as they mature.

The rest of the excursion was the usual Canada Geese, Mallards, Painted Turtles and a stop at Luc, the resident Bald Eagle’s cage where he gave me a chirp after I greeted him.

I’d say it was a good excursion, wouldn’t you?

Terri does not have a Challenge this week.