WALKIN', WRITIN', WIT & WHIMSY

Fall Infatuation.

Posted on September 22, 2024 by Linda Schaub

Fall (finally) arrived today at 8:44 a.m., just as I was stepping out the door. Ah, glorious Fall, even though the “real feel” was still hot and humid.

If you know me personally, or have followed my blog for a while, you know I adore Autumn. Tell me what other season has more ambiance than Autumn? (Well, okay … Christmas does, but that is a holiday, not a season.)

What’s not to like about Fall? The crispness of the air and who doesn’t love the jewel-toned leaves that flutter down and crackle beneath your feet? It’s sweater weather, with a trip to the cider mill if you’re so inclined and sweet pumpkin treats to savor, or chomping on a Honeycrisp apple with a wee wedge of cheddar cheese on the side. The harvest décor on homeowners’ lawns makes for pretty pictures, plus also gives mischievous squirrels a chance to feast on gourds and Indian corn or to scale and eventually topple corn stalks. Fall is fleeting here in Southeast Michigan, so I try to make the most of it.

I decorated inside this year, a few touches here and there and added a handful of Hershey Kisses in this furry friend’s basket, a gift from my friend Ann Marie …

… then I sat back to enjoy a cup of cappuccino and a sweet treat.

I was gobsmacked to learn about the concept of “Walktober” which only entered my vocabulary a couple of years ago, despite being an avid walker since 2011. “Walktober” is about getting your steps in while enjoying the cooler temps and admiring the Fall foliage. It’s simple, it’s free and good for you – what a concept!

These are a few Fall foliage photos from last year in some of those jewel tones.

Hopefully our drought-like conditions for September here in SE Michigan do not obliterate the colorful Fall foliage. I’ve heard that the colors will be subdued due to the stress from September’s unrelenting days over 80F and lack of rain. Michigan is a top leaf-peeping place, especially in the Upper Peninsula and only second to New England. Starting soon, our travel bureaus and weather folks will post a weekly schedule to show peak leaf-peeping dates and locales.

Unbelievably, in early August, I saw Poplar and Locust tree leaves littering the boardwalk at Lake Erie Metropark and red-tinged leaves gave a pop of color on the trails.

There were even bright-red berries, which must be poisonous since the birds and squirrels didn’t feast on them.

Here in The Mitten State we enjoyed a few cooler days in September; it was wonderful to walk and take photos and not come home by mid-day feeling exhausted from the heat. My furry friends at the Park decided it was time to alter their feeding routine, i.e. instead of eating all their peanuts at one time, they wisely switched to eating one and burying one. Yes, the squirrels are resourceful and know the routine. Soon they will begin to bulk up and their fur will thicken, all Mother Nature’s way of ensuring they are protected from the wicked Winter weather.

Even though it felt like “furnace weather” on those nippy nights when temps dipped into the 40s, I didn’t succumb to flipping that switch and instead dug out a fleece hoodie and my flannel shirts and turtleneck sweaters.

Flannel shirts for Fall are a long-standing tradition for me.

Last month I had to give up my 10-year-old Windows 7 laptop and jump ahead three operating systems. Yikes! The laptop was working well, except the Firefox browser was freezing up occasionally, but patience is a virtue and after I gave it a few minutes, everything was okey-dokey again. But then WordPress introduced some AI features, upgraded their platform and those changes did NOT play nice with my old laptop. While I could comment and read posts, I could no longer create a post.

So, while getting acclimated to this new device, when logging onto MSN’s homepage, I was constantly bombarded with snippets of things people did/ate/wore/listened or danced to in the 60s, 70s and beyond. I admit I watched those slideshows and yes, I remembered most, if not all of those things, especially some of my own questionable clothing choices in the mid-70s, like when I often dressed like the Brawny Man, Brawny Paper Towels’ mascot.

I know I have taken a few trips down Memory Lane lately, but here is still-another remembrance and coincidentally, it is from exactly 50 years ago, September 1974, just as I embarked on my junior year of college and, when I abruptly changed my wardrobe from the polished look the previous year, to what my parents referred to as my “Brawny Man” phase. Personally, I preferred to call it my “mad-about-plaid” phase, but who wanted to rush from class to class, or chase down a story for the college newspaper, clear across campus in impractical garb like a miniskirt and heels, or a pantsuit?

The similarity to the Brawny Man likely coincided with the introduction of the Brawny Man line of heavy-duty paper towels, a product still in use today.

I laughed to myself when I Googled to get photos of the Brawny Man and the paper towels bearing his likeness for this post and soon found myself down a rabbit hole for the next half hour or so. This handsome, rugged guy in his red plaid flannel shirt and Timberland work boots actually DID debut in 1974, at the same time I was debuting my new look.

I remember Mom being horrified that I wore a long-sleeved thermal undershirt that peeked out of the flannel shirt and on my feet were work boots, but not the over-the-ankle-Timberland-style work boots (or I’d have really heard about that). Those construction-type boots were paired with heavy socks and sometimes I tucked my long hair under a wool hat, in what became my new signature look. Sometimes I’d pacify Mom and get “a bit girly” with a cotton turtleneck sweater instead. She even told me that one day I’d look back on my college days’ wardrobe and wonder why? I do wonder why … why no one ever took my picture so I could include it with this post? 🙂

So, when we had those nippy days a few weeks ago, around Labor Day weekend, I dug out my flannel shirts and turtlenecks, a look I never stopped embracing for Fall’s cooler days.

I even went to the cedar closet to retrieve this red-plaid vest that must be 30 years old now.

The work boots are long gone, replaced by my heavy walking shoes, but donning those warm and comfy clothes took me back in a heartbeat to my youth.

I am joining Terri Webster Schrandt’s September 22nd Sunday Stills Photo Challenge: Celebrate Autumn or Spring.

Photos of The Brawny Man sourced from Pinterest and Brawny’s website.

Posted in Memories, Seasons | Tagged #Sunday Stills Photo Challenge, Autumn, Fall, Memories, Seasons | 68 Comments

Peachy keen! #Wordless Wednesday #Barn Swallows dazzle in cobalt blue and orangey-peach tones

Posted on September 18, 2024 by Linda Schaub

Wordless Wednesday – allow your photo(s) to tell the story.

Posted in #WildlifeWednesday, #Wordless Wednesday, birds, nature | Tagged #Terri's Monthly Color Challenge: Orange and/or Peach, #WildlifeWednesday, #Wordless Wednesday, birds, nature, walk, walking | 49 Comments

Summer is on the wane (I think), so …

Posted on September 15, 2024 by Linda Schaub

… it’s time to take another look at Council Point Park, some four months after the “Project” began.

True to my word, I continue toting my camera to my favorite nature nook, having been enticed to do so after the Mama and baby Robin encounter in June.

But that said, there are many times I walk at Council Point Park and never remove the camera from its pouch.

This long and picture-laden post includes photos of the lingering mess along the Ecorse Creek shoreline, as well as a few familiar and new faces since my last post which recapped the pre-and-post Project destruction on May 8^th.

We’ve gone two seasons, Spring and Summer and soon will embark on Fall, but sadly the demolished landscape has not changed, except the weeds are bushier and taller …

… and, if they don’t remove those weeds, wildflowers and tree stumps, we walkers may still enjoy the much-needed buffer from the cold winds and freezing mist that blow across the Creek, often causing black ice and slick conditions, just like we enjoyed from the previously tree-and-bush-lined shoreline.

There may be hope on the horizon.

In September 2022 I befriended a group of volunteers doing routine clean-up of the Ecorse Creek. Each year, the volunteers meet three times over the course of the Summer to clean up the Creek where it flows through the cities of Lincoln Park, Ecorse and Wyandotte. Those guys and gals take canoes and kayaks and pick up garbage – a lot of garbage. Some volunteers are “pickers” that carry huge garbage bags and wield pointy sticks to spear the trash on the shoreline and throughout the Park.

On that September 2022 day I took a lot of photos of those volunteers for a blog post, then sent them to Kelly who maintains the Ecorse Creek Facebook page.

Flash forward to 2024. It was decided that clean-up efforts at the Lincoln Park portion of the Ecorse Creek would not take place in 2024 due to the heavy machinery in/around the entire Creek at Council Point Park.

Then, a few months ago Kelly, who is a bicycle enthusiast, was coordinating a group ride through several Downriver parks and wanted to map out the event in advance. She was horrified when she saw the destruction at Council Point Park and sent me a message bemoaning what she saw. Well, of course, I had to go through my spiel about how the Park and its natural shoreline was decimated by the amphibious vehicle, which not only felled trees with nesting birds and squirrels, but demolished geese nesting areas and plowed through turtles sunning themselves on a log. I relayed my e-mails with our City’s mayor who assured me “yes, this may be hard on animals for a bit but in the long run this project will be good for the wildlife, flow of the water and good for cities from Dearborn Heights to Lincoln Park” I also told Kelly the City promised that “the organization Friends of the Detroit River would plant native plants along the shoreline.”

The Ecorse Creek clean-up efforts are coordinated with the Friends of the Detroit River, so the next day Kelly messaged me and confirmed yes, native plants would indeed be planted along the shoreline once the project was completed, weather permitting.

You saw the weeds and wildflowers, (if Queen Anne’s Lace and Chicory are “wildflowers”). Here’s a close-up of them.

These shoreline weeds and wildflowers took four months to reach this height. So will it take all Summer for those native plants to fill in the barren areas of the shoreline every year going forward? Who knows, but there is even scuttlebutt on the local Residents forum on Facebook, that contractors “messed up” in that they just ravaged everything, when only the dead trees in the Creek and shoreline were to be destroyed.

Well reading that info, if it is true, hurt my heart as you might imagine.

So did the critters make the best of things?

The “wildlife” at the Park eventually returned to their favorite habitat. Harry the Great Blue Heron once again occupies the cement ledge, his original fishing spot, which looks pretty raggedy now.

I walked down the slope to zoom in on him. Harry has his “breeding feathers” or “mating plumage” (long feather plumes on the breast, flanks, and back during breeding season) which you can see in these photos.

Sometimes Harry gets “spooked” and he flies to the other side of the Creek, squawking and screeching his head off.

Part of the joy of walking here is feeding the birds. Yes, Harry is the exception as I don’t carry any fish. 🙂 Rex, the Red-bellied Woodpecker, the Blue Jays, Cardinals and Red-winged Blackbirds all swoop over for peanuts when I lay them on the ground.

This Northern Cardinal flagged me down at the parking lot curb as I was walking into the Park as if to say “I want first dibs on those peanuts!” I gave him some and he posed nicely (but forgot to wipe his beak first).

And, yes, there are groups of squirrels greeting me and begging for peanuts, like before the Project, but I suspect some of the original inhabitants that lost their nests have moved into the neighborhood. Some of these Park “newbies” are likely the offspring who survived the cruel felling of their trees and nests. Their parents have taught them well – “yes, approach The Peanut Lady ‘cuz she won’t bite. Just swish your tail, stand on your haunches and let her take your photo and you’ll be rewarded with treats.”

After all, when you are only a foot tall and the grasscutters haven’t been around to mow, I’m sure they are thinking “what if The Peanut Lady doesn’t see me?”

I’m glad I pass muster with the youngsters … and the long-timers as well.

Since it IS Summer and my Park pals have black walnuts, mulberries and pine cones available at the Park to munch on (sadly the big apple tree has been demolished), I figure if I go to a bigger park, in the Summer months I can skip a day and go directly there to try and beat the heat, especially if I will be walking a lot of miles there. So I have done so on occasion, only for me to return the next day one time and have two walkers confront me in an accusatory tone “you weren’t here and they were attacking us!” What? Behind my tinted eyeglasses I did an eye roll and said “you’re kidding, right? Are you going to be like the woman who carried a switch with her to beat the squirrels away? Then, so terrified of those ‘beasts’ attacking her, that same woman began carrying a golf club to strike them should they stray near her. Personally, I’m more worried about people who walk their dogs in a park where the ordinance says ‘no dogs’ yet they let them off-leash, even pit bulls!”

After my tirade, if it were me, I would have walked away or mumbled “well sorry I mentioned it” but no, they persisted saying “well we had to buy peanuts so they wouldn’t bug us.” I responded “so walk somewhere else then” and turned on my heel and walked the other way. And no, they were not kidding. If I know bad weather is on the way or I won’t be there the next day, I put out extra peanuts or seeds to which one of these walkers said “you’re generous today, so that means you won’t be around I guess.” Grrr. I know I am there when it counts, like in the Fall when they are socking away peanuts for the Winter, or when I precariously pick my way along snowy or icy streets in the ‘hood and along the perimeter path to hand out peanuts and sunflower seeds because I feel sorry for them, especially in the dead of Winter.

Now that the trees are gone along the shoreline I can see this tower across the Creek. One day this large, dark-colored bird perched on the top rail of the tower.

I gawked at it – was it a Cooper’s Hawk? Just what my furry friends need, though those hawks have not been around much this year. I waited patiently and soon it shifted positions and I knew by its profile, it was a Turkey Vulture, so my very-much-alive squirrels were safe. Whew!

There are new furry friends, a pair of groundhogs. Here is one of them taken from the top of the sloped hill. Well, he/she won’t run out of greens, weeds and wildflowers to eat.

The geese have returned from their extended molt spent at Dingell Park or Bishop Park, near the water, safe from predators while they could not fly. The goslings have grown up, no longer “mini-me” versions of their parents, but full-grown geese now, equally full of attitude, just as noisy and messy as their parents and always quick to scam the squirrels and birds out of their peanuts and sunflower seeds I put out for them, which is unfair since grass is plentiful and they have a benefactor you will read about in a few paragraphs.

Soon the Red-winged Blackbirds will migrate South. To me, these birds are the true harbinger of Spring when they arrive in March, filling the still-frosty air with their song. It was always a happy sight when the first Robin of Spring was spotted, but now I see Robins all year around.

We’ve got Tree Swallows at the Park now. I’ve only seen the occasional Tree Swallow in the last 11 years I’ve walked here, but I see at least a dozen swooping down near the Creek for insects daily.

A few weeks ago I arrived at Council Point Park and saw the animal control officer driving on the pathway, so I asked if there was a wild animal running around before I started on the trail. It turned out there WAS a large coyote on the opposite side of the Creek, but the officer was not there for the coyote, but because a resident had complained a large, unleashed pit bull was stalking the squirrels – ahh, a kindred soul and no I didn’t make that complaint.

Speaking of kindred souls …

Kindred souls who appreciate nature and this Park’s collection of critters are people I like. Unlike the walkers who whined about the squirrels supposedly attacking them, there is the elderly couple who has started toting along peanuts to feed the squirrels after calling me an “angel” for doing so and standing with smiles on their faces as they saw the squirrels rushing over to my feet.

For years I have wanted to include photos of what a homeowner, who lives on the fringe of the Park, feeds the Park’s feathered friends year-round. Because it was colorful at this critter feeding set-up, I decided to take photos for this post. The homeowner puts out corn (sprinkled on the ground), suet cakes, seeds and water all year around. At the end of Summer, I always see a Goldfinch or two snacking on some of the Sunflowers he/she plants for them. The header image is one of this homeowner’s Sunflowers.

I took some photos last Fall of the geese flocking to the homeowner’s set-up. These are two of those photos. And the second photo, sometimes critters’ faces tell a lot, i.e. “I’m aghast at my brethren’s uncouth ways!”

[I digressed a bit.]

So anyway, I asked the animal control officer if he knew if the City resident’s still-at-large Ball Python snake, which, according to the owner should not be feared, had been captured yet? He didn’t know, but said “there are more snakes around here than you know.” Gulp. A few years back fellow walkers Henry and Sam were on the walking path when a snake fell out of a tree and landed on Sam’s head I always veered to the other side of the path near that tree after that! Now the tree is gone, so no worries.

I hope you enjoyed this return to Council Point Park – we’ll still have the fine-looking foliage come Fall … too bad it will only be on the other three tree-lined sides of the Park.

This week is Terri’s Color Challenge: Orange and/or Peach, but I’ll be doing mine for Wordless Wednesday.

Posted in nature, walk, walking | Tagged nature, Park, wildlife at Council Point Park | 46 Comments

Pause and reflect: 09/11/01 #Wordless Wednesday #Pray, love, remember. – Wm. Shakespeare

Posted on September 11, 2024 by Linda Schaub

Wordless Wednesday – allow your photo(s) to tell the story.

Posted in #WildlifeWednesday, #Wordless Wednesday, September 11th | Tagged #WildlifeWednesday, #Wordless Wednesday, nature, September 11th | 52 Comments

Grandparents Day 2024.

Posted on September 8, 2024 by Linda Schaub

If I close my eyes, I can recall Mom reciting this verse to me when I was a child. A grade school chum had scribbled it in Mom’s autograph book:

The thunder roared

The lightening crashed

The whole world was shaken

The little pig curled up his tail

And ran to save his bacon.

I wasn’t scared of storms as a child. I don’t remember cowering in a corner when thunder boomers shook the entire house. That’s probably because Mom always said “God is moving his furniture.” I accepted that idea and moved on.

But flash forward many decades later, in an age of climate change, when simple rain showers turn torrential, often accompanied by storms with lime-sized hail. Last week lime-sized hail was part of severe weather in Southeast Michigan and a news story said hail will become more frequent and larger going forward. We’ve had it all in Michigan in 2024 including 76 mph winds in a recent storm, but thankfully this house remains unscathed by Mother Nature’s wily ways.

So I am a weather worrier. And, even though severe weather doesn’t always happen, just the threat of it, puts me on pins and needles in anticipation of how far will it encroach into my area, or will it fizzle out? In August 2023, we had seven tornadoes in Southeast Michigan in a three-hour period and their proximity was way too close for comfort.

Today is Grandparents Day in the U.S.

Yes, it is a Hallmark holiday and not observed worldwide but, since I was close to my maternal grandmother, Minnie Godard, I like to dedicate one blog post a year to her. I called her “Nanny” from the time I was young until her passing on January 29, 1986. This is a photo of Nanny and me around 1956.

I think about Nanny, not just on Grandparents Day, or her birthday, or death date, but when something triggers a fond memory of our time together.

This Summer, there have been many memory triggers of Nanny, sadly all caused by bouts of severe weather. You see my grandmother was terrified of severe weather and she had a valid reason for that mindset, having witnessed a neighbor being struck by lightning when she was a young girl.

Here’s the backstory of that fateful day.

My great-grandparents lived on a farm in rural Ariss, Ontario, Canada. Andrew Klein was a farmer who worked the fields and his wife Katherine, besides having a bounty of farmhouse chores, bore ten children; one died shortly after birth and they adopted a boy a few years after their last child was born. I guess you could say she was pretty busy.

Sunday was a day of rest from toiling in the fields, but there were still cows to be milked, pigs to be slopped and egg gathering to be done. There was no rest in the kitchen for Katherine either, because later in the day, after finishing his chores, Andrew went outside to get the Sunday roast chicken meal and then Katherine cooked it.

While Andrew did his Sunday morning farm chores, Katherine went to town alone for church services. While it would have been nice, (not to mention gentlemanly), for Andrew to get her “ride” ready, i.e. the horse and buggy, Katherine always did this task herself.

One Sunday, while getting the horse and buggy ready, Katherine spooked Mabel, their faithful buggy horse. Mabel reared up suddenly and one heavy hoof stomped down on the top of Katherine’s foot, crushing most of it. This blurry photo is of my great-grandmother in the foreground and a horse and harness – was this Mabel standing behind her?

She was laid up for a while, but luckily it was Summertime and no school, so her three daughters, Loretta, Mildred and Minnie were old enough to tackle the various household chores while their mother recuperated. Katherine filled her day with sit-down activities like churning butter, tatting doilies and sewing quilts and feather ticks.

Years later my grandmother would recount how furious Andrew was with Katherine’s misfortune, giving her no sympathy and telling her she was useless to him now. The couple would bicker constantly. Eventually Katherine’s mobility improved with a walking stick, but soon after arising, that foot would swell up twice its size, so the rest of her life she wore a slipper or a loose-fitting unlaced sneaker. You can see Katherine’s swollen foot in this undated photo taken on the porch at the farmhouse, along with my mom and her best friend.

This photo of best friends Pauline and Irene was taken out in the fields at the farm.

Since Andrew’s work days were from dawn to dusk, to make the most of the daylight hours, Katherine used to take his mid-day meal out to him in the fields. Since she could no longer traipse that far to meet him, she tasked her youngest daughter Minnie with packing up and delivering her father’s lunch to him. One day as young Minnie neared where her father was working, he saw her and shut the tractor off in anticipation of his meal. Minnie handed him his meal, but didn’t linger, as she was mindful of the ominous-looking sky. She headed for home and picked up the pace, lest she get soaked by rain.

Meanwhile, across the field from where she walked, a neighboring farmer was working in his field and, as Minnie raised her arm to wave to him, there was a loud crack of thunder, then a bolt of lightning sliced through the darkened sky. To Minnie’s horror, she watched the lightning strike her neighbor, then watched his lifeless body crumple to the ground. Shocked, Minnie ran home, not even glancing back to see if her father was okay. She blurted out what she had seen and Katherine told her to take her sisters with her and go to the neighbors to alert his family. The girls did so and later learned the neighbor had been killed instantly.

Nanny would tell us that while the farms and farmhouses were not that close in proximity to one another, farmers and their families were quick to help each other at harvest time to get the crops in timely. The families would go from farm to farm, round-robin style and stay each day until each farmer’s crops were harvested. The farmers’ wives cooked in each farmhouse kitchen, helping to “put up” preserves, can produce and prepare the meals for the workers before moving on to the next farm.

Since their farmhouse dinner table was not large enough to accommodate everyone, the meals were eaten on the large wraparound porch at the farmhouse. The work done and dinner meal eaten, the farmers and families left for their respective farms and their own chores. You can see a portion of the wraparound porch here where my mom is sitting.

Witnessing a neighbor she’d known since she was a young girl get killed by lightning traumatized my grandmother for the rest of her life. She was paralyzed by fear whenever thunder rumbled and lightning lit up the sky. She immediately sprinkled holy water (water blessed by a priest) around her house. No one in the family ever poked fun at Minnie’s fear of storms because everyone knew the origin of those fears.

These are my great-grandparents, my mom and her cousin Ted. Before preparing this post, I looked at the original photos for dates and/or information and learned it was a celebration of Katherine and Andrew’s 55th wedding anniversary. They were married in 1895.

My mom was close to her grandmother. Since she didn’t get to visit as much once she began working, knowing Katherine’s love for chocolates, she sent her a one-pound box of Laura Secord chocolates every payday. Katherine Klein passed away the same year my mother was married – 1953. When Katherine’s trunk in her bedroom was opened following her death, all the boxes of chocolates were stacked inside. Mom and Nanny were very puzzled about why Katherine never ate them.

This photo was taken at the farm – it is of my mother and her grandparents. The farmhouse is in the background.

Storms are not something to be trifled with.

I mentioned I was never traumatized personally by such a horrific storm event as a youngster, but I did witness the horrors of “The Green Storm” a catastrophic weather event that blew through Michigan and nearby Midwestern states on July 16, 1980.

I was working in Downtown Detroit in a high-rise building when the weather event, classified as a derecho, (a storm with straight-line winds), occurred. I sat down the hall from the senior partner at the law firm. Lucky for him, he was on his annual, month-long sailboat trip to Georgian Bay, Canada. The office manager had taken advantage of his absence to get new ivory-colored carpeting installed in his large corner office. An avid traveler, he had multiple brass shelving units with decades of trip mementoes that lined the glass shelves. His office had just been put back together a few days before.

Suddenly I heard the sound of shattering glass and jumped out of my seat to investigate. Mere seconds later, I watched those mementoes being sucked out the jagged windows along with weeks of mail that had been stacked and anchored down with various paperweights on the top of his desk. Rain going sideways soaked the desk and the new carpet.

That mid-morning derecho, with winds that were clocked at 150 mph, passed in mere minutes and that was the only damage sustained to the office building. The storm’s winds had intensified as they blew against the windows of that corner office. Visibly shaken by the damage I saw, I called my mom to see if the storm had similarly wreaked havoc 13 miles away at our house. My mom described a strange–looking green sky, trees swaying wildly and wind like she had never seen or heard before. We had also lost power, as had most of the Downriver area.

When I got off the bus that evening I saw the row of saplings recently planted by the City in the median were bent over – not unearthed, simply bent over from the force of the wind. The trees did not recover and were removed shortly thereafter and never replaced. I recall walking down our street and noticing the lawns that needed mowing had grass blades blown down horizontally as if a huge comb had been applied to “tame” them. It was eerie. We were without power for about a week.

If I say I am a weather worrier, often people counter with “you have home insurance, right?” “Yes, I do, but I don’t feel like starting over in my ‘Golden Years’” is my standard reply.

So yes, Nanny and I had more in common than munching on those delightful Humbug hard candies she would sneak to me from her apron pocket when I was a little nipper, or our gardens … more about our green thumbs and gardens next year. I had that post written, but stormy weather was on my mind, so I put it on hold for now.

Terri does not have Challenge this week. Next week I’ll give you an updated tour of Council Point Park.

Header image was generated by WordPress AI.

Posted in Memories | Tagged Grandparents Day, Memories, Stormy Weather | 44 Comments

My walking regimen sometimes: one step forward; two steps back! #Wordless Wednesday #Alpaca at the alpaca farm

Posted on September 4, 2024 by Linda Schaub

Wordless Wednesday – allow your photo(s) to tell the story.

Posted in #WildlifeWednesday, #Wordless Wednesday, nature, walk, walking | Tagged #WildlifeWednesday, #Wordless Wednesday, nature, walk, walking | 39 Comments

Muggy and buggy = ugh-y!

Posted on August 29, 2024 by Linda Schaub

I promised myself I would visit five new venues in 2024.

So how did that work out anyway?

A recent post detailed a disappointing trip to three new places, among them the “Strong Unit” which is part of the Detroit River International Wildlife Refuge (“DRIWR” or “Refuge”).

I’ve blogged about the Humbug Marsh Unit of the Refuge plenty of times and will be writing about it again the end of this month. But the Refuge itself encompasses 6,300 acres of marshes, coastal wetlands and islands found along 48 miles of shoreline on the lower Detroit River and western Lake Erie. The Refuge is divided into 30 separate “Units” or parcels of land, not all of them accessible.

Today’s post will be about my June 28th trip to Grosse Ile to visit the “Gibralter Bay Unit” of the Refuge.

This was a once-and-done visit to this venue as it was a little too unkempt for me. I was and continue to be, fastidious about avoiding venues where I might encounter ticks. However, this was the only venue where I brought home one of those little buggers, in my outer ear! Thank goodness it did not attach to my ear and I plucked it out and put it in a bottle, just in case I developed symptoms and it needed to be analyzed. So far so good.

Bugs are the bane of my existence.

(And that is not just spiders and centipedes which I detest.) Climate change, plus our warmer-than-average Winter of 2023-2024, meant the tick population didn’t die off, so not only did we have an abundance of ticks this year, but local news stations are warning of West Nile Virus-carrying mosquitoes as well. Even 83-year-old Dr. Anthony Fauci was recently hospitalized after being bitten in his garden by a mosquito carrying that virus.

Gallivanting around Grosse Ile.

The skies were overcast, so I figured that was a plus since it was likely humid at the marshy areas of the Gibralter Bay Unit. After my half-hour drive there, as I stepped out of the car, the mugginess of the marsh had me ditching the sunhat – after all, I’d be out of here before the peak sun rays were out. No doubt my decision allowed that tick to plop onto my head.

It was a bit deserted, unlike Humbug Marsh which is full of walkers, birders and anglers.

At the trailhead, as I paused to look at the map …

… another car pulled up beside mine. I was both relieved I was no longer alone, but, given the remoteness of this place, I was a bit uncomfortable as well – yes, I am wary of everything.

The driver got out of the vehicle, then ran around to the passenger side where he opened the door and a Yellow Lab hopped out. We exchanged pleasantries and I said it was my first time here, so he asked if I was looking to photograph birds or flowers or just here for a walk as he could point things out on the trails since he walked his dog here daily. I said “all of the above” so we set out together.

**A raggedy-looking trail so narrow we had to walk single file.**

Together we trekked along the “ticky” trail.

I noted the tall grass and weeds on either side and told him I had been careful to protect myself against ticks, which was probably obvious as I was dressed in long pants, a long-sleeved shirt, socks and heavy walking shoes, whereas he was wearing shorts, a short-sleeved shirt and Crocs clogs. He said “no worries – there were lots of ticks in the Spring, but no more!” Then, noting my dubious expression, he added “I was plucking ticks from Bonzo every time we came here in the Spring. They were easy to find in his short hair, but you really have to watch the poison ivy!” “That too?” I thought.

A moment later, Bonzo was back from wandering around the weeds and wildflowers and I watched his owner bend down and pluck something from his dog’s coat. After giving me a rather sheepish look he said “well I guess a few of ‘em are still around.” “Yikes!” I thought and hoped he flicked that tick far away from me!

**The voice of reason in my head said “go walk somewhere else Linda!”**

My companion pointed out a few birds overhead and identified them as freshwater Pelicans. “Cool, I’ve been looking for these birds” I told him, then tried to get a few shots of a straggler. At home, on the screen, I wasn’t sure if it was a Seagull or a Pelican so I haven’t included it.

We got to an equally rugged trail with a split-rail fence, then together we moseyed along the marsh shoreline. He said “there is a seaplane parked out there somewhere that might make a nice photo for you – you have to go back out to the road for that though.” He pointed in the general direction of the woods, beyond the marshy area.

We lost sight of Bonzo, so he whistled and got no response. He told me “I gotta go find out if Bonzo got into trouble – see ya around.”

I decided to retrace my steps at a more leisurely pace through the field area and along the Meadow Trail …

**In the field of weeds and wildflowers was a huge boulder.**

**It was a glacial erratic that fellow blogger and friend Barbara would enjoy seeing.**

**It must have been a busy nesting season – it’s bursting at the seams!**

**A place to rest, just off the beaten path.**

… then I walked along the marsh shoreline where I got these shots:

**Was the split-rail fence to keep you from falling into the marsh?**

**An optical illusion – it’s difficult to tell the real reeds from the reflections.**

**The end of the off-limits marsh area.**

**Yep, it looks like an outhouse, but it is a photo blind.**

**Up close and personal with a spotting scope.**

**The scope gave a nice view of the marsh, mostly pond lilies – no birds.**

There were a lot of low-hanging branches so I had to duck a lot. Check out this primitive-looking means to traverse the low ditch and mud with a plank and its fishnet-type covering for traction.

**An odd, but stable means of crossing a muddy area.**

I got to the end of the trail and saw the open area near where I had parked and muttered to myself “hmm, that was it? I risked ticks, poison ivy and whatever else for that? Pfft!”

But, look – across from the small parking lot was an overlook with a nice view.

So, I decided to try and find that seaplane. Given this venue’s proximity to the Grosse Ile Airport and the small map at the trailhead showing “Old Seaplane Road”, how difficult could it be to find?

This was the entrance to the venue, which had the same style sign and logo as is found at Humbug Marsh only the Gibralter Bay Unit.

I trudged along the gravel road, a/k/a Old Seaplane Road. I was hopeful to see that seaplane. I kept stopping to take photos of some wildflowers. There was a sign, but my visit was thwarted by a locked gate.

Since I had passed a marker about a trail leading to the photo blind …

… I decided to make that photo blind my next stop.

Along the way I passed this sign …

There was this seating arrangement … cozy, but watch for splinters!

Finally, nestled in the bushes was this sign for the photo blind.

I stepped inside where there were cobwebs and, after peering through the “window” I saw no birds. In fact, I mused that here I was in this protected wildlife habitat with more than 300 different species of birds and I only saw these two:

… and those Pelicans or Seagulls (hard to tell from my blurry-looking photos).

Back at the car, I turned the A/C on full to get refreshed, then stopped at the Gibralter Bay Alpaca Farm, a short drive down the road, a stop that was very brief as they were mucking out the stalls and on that hot, humid day, let’s just say the smell was a bit funky.

I am joining Terri Webster Schrandt’s September 1st Sunday Stills Photo Challenge: All about Bugs.

Well, that was premature – Terri’s post won’t post ’til Sunday. So pretend it’s Sunday. 🙂 I’m still finding my way with this new computer.

Posted in nature, walk, walking | Tagged #All about bugs, #Sunday Stills Photo Challenge, nature, walk, walking | 57 Comments

Summer weary. #Wordless Wednesday #Some are weary. (778/1,257 miles walked so far)

Posted on August 28, 2024 by Linda Schaub

Wordless Wednesday – allow your photo(s) to tell the story.

Posted in #Wordless Wednesday, Flowers, Seasons | Tagged #Wordless Wednesday, nature, Seasons | 33 Comments

The long and winding road.

Posted on August 25, 2024 by Linda Schaub

Today’s post will be a mash-up of three walkers with one purpose – all were striding and striving for one goal.

First, I’ll introduce you to fellow blogger Zena Cooper, who lives across the pond from me …

… in Ammanford, Wales. Zena, accompanied by her daughter, Korisha Williams, recently completed a 55-mile fundraising walking event. These women trained in advance of this endeavor so they could easily complete their target goal of 11 miles daily. Here is the dynamic duo: Zena (left) and Korisha (right).

After reading Zena’s post about the upcoming event, in solidarity, I decided to join Zena and Korisha virtually in this endeavor, however, at the risk of shin splints by overdoing it, I was a “slacker” and walked my usual five miles daily, with a target goal of 25 miles.

Due to the five-hour time difference, my UK pals may have already finished and recorded their daily mileage stats …

… while I was still walking, or even before I laced up my walking shoes and stepped out. Of note is our daily walks took place smack dab during those doggone Dog Days of Summer and here’s a factoid for you … climatologists recorded Monday, July 22nd as the hottest day on record WORLDWIDE and July 2024 was the hottest month on record WORLDWIDE. Whew!

On that hotter-than-hot Monday, they were joined by a friend …

Let me be clear up front in stating I deserve no accolades for only completing half of the pair’s daily steps, plus my morning meanders were on an asphalt pathway, or in residential neighborhoods, not on uneven trails nor pitted walkways. There were no scratchy bramble bushes to contend with. So, if you want to congratulate someone, the accolades should go to them, not me and, by the way, special kudos to Zena because she is blind. Also, Zena did not make this exhausting journey with her trusty guide dog Minster Munch, who is nicknamed “Munch” – instead, she relied on her white cane and/or at times a firm grasp on her daughter’s arm.

Life before and after Munch.

Zena’s blog is heaped with praise for her furry companion and she has written countless times of how her life before Munch was often fraught with accidents, like trips and falls, then after Munch became her “eyes” she had newfound freedom, the likes that she had never known. You see Zena was born with Marfan Syndrome, a disorder rendering her almost completely blind.

But, being the stoic soul that she has always been, Zena went to school, then entered the workplace as a school counselor. Amazingly, she was able to keep her medical condition under wraps for a very long time. Zena finally resorted to using her white cane, something recognized and associated with worldwide as an aid for the blind.

But, that was before 2016, when she paired up with Munch, her Labradoodle guide dog, whose mischievous personality, even while in harness, has endeared him to everyone Zena encountered and, it is those encounters and Munch and his mischievous ways that she regales us with in her blog “The Secret Blind”. Below are photos of Munch “in harness” working and also hamming it up in his Guide Dog hat.

Zena even collected those humorous excerpts to write a book entitled What You Can See When You Can’t See – How Blindness Helped One Woman Discover the True Beauty of Life. If you go onto Zena’s blog site, some of her Facebook pictures of Munch may be found in the sidebar, like this recent photo of her furry companion with his puppy-like exuberance over a stick.

Munch has been Zena’s trusty furry companion now for eight years, but since he is nine and one-half years old, he now soon faces mandatory retirement. Since friends and followers had questions about this, she addressed our concerns in a Q and A-type forum. Zena wrote about that sad fact in this post.

In her August 11th post which recapped how she and Korisha fared with their fundraising walk, Zena told us she now had only 19 weeks left with Munch, who will remain with her but in a new role, that of a beloved pet. She has requested another Labradoodle, not only because of their gentle, but sometimes mischievous temperament, but also because they don’t shed. Unfortunately there is only a two percent chance of Zena receiving another Labradoodle guide dog.

Even though Munch will enjoy retirement, Zena explained “by hanging up his harness and being paws up” unfortunately, due to the high cost of training a dog, the transition from one guide dog to the next will not be seamless, so Zena will return to using her white cane for about a year to guide her in her daily travels, just as she did before Munch.

Thus, the idea of a fundraising endeavor was borne.

No, Zena does not aim to buy an already-trained guide dog, but instead to raise money for the naming rights of a new guide dog puppy, one that will have the same moniker as her beloved Munch. All funds raised will be funneled toward training of guide dogs. The more money raised, the more guide dogs may be trained and waiting times for these dogs will be less. It costs £55,000 ($70,690.95 USD) to support a guide dog from birth through retirement. Thus “55” became the target number of miles for this fundraising walk-a-thon. Zena’s family hopes to raise £2,500 ($3,213.15) within two years, so to that end, there will be more fundraisers, like this first fundraising walk. I decided it could be just like another virtual charitable cause 5k for me, so I was “all in” to join them. The walking routes chosen were places that Munch enjoys for HIS walks, but, as mentioned above, Munch was given a reprieve during this 55-mile journey. Zena’s “eyes” were her daughter Korisha who walked alongside her leading them down not only the pothole-ridden roads, but also the woodsy pathways of beautiful Wales.

I initially decided to do our daily walks in a diary style.

For me, my plan to walk five miles daily (one mile exactly to/from Council Point Park, then three times around the perimeter path, that walking loop being one mile exactly) sounded good on paper and in my head.

But, things don’t always work out as planned when life takes its twists and turns. For example, the “original walk” was slated for July 21st through July 25th, but Zena’s son Jaidan was graduating with his Philosophy Degree on Thursday, July 25th, so Zena and Korisha began their walk a day earlier so they didn’t miss the graduation ceremony. I was in Sterling State Park that day, a sweltering hot morning where I took a wrong turn on a trail and was forced to walk several miles out of my way to get back on the man trail. More on that blunder in another post. That night, as I caught up on Facebook, I learned about the date change, so I just began my walk Sunday, as I originally planned – no sweat (about the date – the heat and humidity, well that was a whole ‘nother story.)

Monday, the second day of my walk also had a minor blip and did not go as planned because on Sunday a police officer was shot and fatally wounded in a nearby city and the shooter was on the run for 24 hours before he was caught. Although there was no lockdown in place, while police officers from multiple communities, canine officers, drones and helicopters canvassed the area looking for this criminal, I thought it better to drive to the Park rather than meandering through the neighborhoods. The rest of the week mercifully went as planned, so yes, my walking stats “got ‘er done” but pale in comparison to my UK pals as set forth below:

Day #1 – Saturday, July 20th: 16 miles (in two walks)

Day #2 – Sunday, July 21st: 11.42 miles

Day #3 – Monday, July 22nd: 11.82 miles

Day #4 – Tuesday, July 23rd: 11.2 miles

Day #5 – Wednesday, July 24th: 5 miles to reach the target of 55 miles in five (5) days.

On this day, a four-legged friend joined the journey. Here Minster Munch, off harness, joyfully races ahead of his mistress.

On Day #1, my first day, it was a gorgeous, albeit hot, day …

… and, since there was no construction on Sundays for the ongoing “project” I took a lot of photos, some which will appear in this post and the others in a later post where I will update you on the progress of the Creek-widening project.

But, for today’s post, remembering how Zena and her late mother enjoyed my nature posts, especially the ones about Parker and pals, I was happy to glean a few poses from my furry friends to sprinkle throughout my portion of the post. That splooting squirrel you see in the featured image up top is not Parker, who refused to “sploot on command” … it was so hot that day that I offered peanuts after I took the photo and he/she just stayed there, trying to cool off on the tree stump.

There can never be TOO many furry friends in this world, right?

Before and after.

Zena’s new world after her faithful companion’s retirement later this year will hearken back to before, a sightless world, where once again she will be forced to learn and memorize obstacles and trip hazards all over again. That pre-2016 world was a dangerous place before Munch and now after it will be a challenge once again. In praising Munch Zena says “this hairy soul mate has made my life with sight loss not only manageable, but also empowering in ways I would never have imagined.”

I wish her luck and I’m sure you will too.

I am joining Terri Webster Schrandt’s August 25th Sunday Stills Photo Challenge: Before and After.