I’ve taken a lot of walks this year, but not as many as anticipated after retiring on March 29th. With seemingly endless hours of newfound free time, I had a running list in my head for my longer excursions agenda, but Mother Nature had her agenda as well.
Truthfully, I might have whined more about the weather, but after seeing the recent destruction from Hurricane Helene, plus several bouts of widespread tornado damage this year in many states, including my own, I won’t whimper about the weather.
We didn’t see a drop of rain for most of September, which meteorologists said might have put the kibosh on beautiful leaf colors, but last weekend’s rain, the dregs of Helene’s fury, might have salvaged some of that Fall foliage, thus, the Mitten State is in wait-and-see mode for peak leaf-peeping.
Terri’s Challenge this week is “Leaves and Trees” and today’s post will be about a walk taken at the Clara and Henry Ford Estate in Autumn 2023.
I had this portion of a very long walk taken last year tucked away for several reasons.
I took a lot of photos that day, first as I walked along the Rouge River Gateway Trail while enroute to the Henry and Clara Ford Estate, a/k/a Fair Lane. I wrote a post about that trail experience last year, which you can read here if you missed it.
So I knew that picture-laden post would be groaning (as would you readers) if I included the Estate photos too.
I have not visited Fair Lane, nor the nearby Environmental Interpretive Center in 2024. While I was eager to participate in the EIC’s monthly nature photography hike with a naturalist/nature photographer, first the pesky rain was problematic and then, since this natural habitat is rustic and rather unkempt and due to our state’s overabundance of ticks, I decided I’d just wait until 2025 to join in.
As for a Fall foliage excursion to the Estate in 2024, I follow this venue on social media and there have been extensive renovations ongoing at the Power House and Henry Ford’s garage since Spring. Several photos showed all the vintage Model Ts exiting the garage and into vans to be transported for safekeeping while Phase II of the restorative work is being done. That entire area is cordoned off for visitors.
Restorative efforts for the entire Estate began in 2013, with an eventual goal to return the Fords’ home and grounds to its glory days i.e. 1915 when they moved into their brand-new abode. Even though visitors are free to roam about the grounds, the inside of Fair Lane remains off limits to the public.
I have been to the Ford Estate grounds in every season except Winter, but photos posted on social media show a peaceful venue and it is spectacular even with the many bare trees. Spring is my favorite season to visit here due to the gorgeous Redbud trees, plus I enjoy meandering along the flagstone pathway that is nestled between the 100+ Persian Lilac bushes.
Enjoy the photos of last year’s visit to the Estate – the colors were not yet at peak here.
A mini-meander around Fair Lane’s grounds.
These views of the foliage are from various areas around the Estate. This is the Power House and Garage area, then a close-up of the trees behind these buildings.
The roaring Rouge River and dam (seen in the second photo) are found at the back of the mansion. Henry Ford hired landscape architect Jens Jensen to camouflage the hydroelectric dam that powered the Fair Lane Estate, Power Plant and Garage in a natural setting.
A touch of Fall and …
… a wee bit of whimsy. You may recall I used this sign before in a Wordless Wednesday post, imagining my furry friend Parker’s delight in making this discovery and tipping his head backward to receive those nutty treats. 🙂
This is the entrance to the Boathouse.
The Potting Shed and Tribute Garden.
While the leaves were not necessarily all ablaze in color, the flowers in and around the Potting Shed …
… and Tribute Garden still looked great, some very vibrant.
So, it was no surprise to me that the roses in Clara’s rose garden were also in bloom.
These gardens are well maintained, not only by a gardening staff, but also by volunteers from local companies, namely Ford Motor Company. I met a group of young Ford workers last year when the Lilac gardens were at peak.
I hope to wow you with lovely leaves in a few weeks for my “Walktober” post, so stay tuned.
On this August 23, 2024 visit to the Humbug Unit of the Detroit River International Wildlife Refuge, it was a walk filled with a lot of oddball occurrences, from my early morning arrival until my noon departure. It was the final day of a nearly week-long cool spell and I had made the most of those days, seizing the opportunity to take long walks with the camera before the heat and humidity came back.
Returning to the Refuge.
It was my first visit to this venue since late February when I bopped by to take photos of the candy-cane-striped twin smokestacks at the DTE power plant before their demolition on March 15th.
After parking, I decided to meander down to the Detroit River to check out the Cormorants who like to roost in the trees across from the fishing pier. It’s a bit of a hike from the parking lot, down the slope and then along the 700-foot (213 meter) Korneffel Fishing Pier which juts out into the western Trenton Channel at the Detroit River.
Cormorants are a wild and crazy bunch!
There’s something a little weird and wacky about Double-Crested Cormorants, the skinny black waterfowl found in abundance here in Southeast Michigan. They are easily identifiable, not only by their profile, i.e. they ride low in the water like a Loon, with just their long neck and head visible, but they also have a pronounced hooked bill.
At the shoreline, as soon as Cormorants step out of the water, since they lack sufficient oil in their feathers to repel water, they will stand with their wings outstretched to dry them. They remind me a little of Dracula waving his arms in his flowy black cape … or a flasher. 🙂
I’ve never been lucky enough to see these unique-looking birds up close, but birders who post photos of them usually spotlight their bright yellow face and brilliant turquoise eyes.
And there they were ….
Sometimes there are so many Cormorants it is hard to count ‘em all, but the flock frequently congregates together, black dots in the trees. Oddly enough, they don’t congregate in the live trees, only the dead trees. I took many photos across the water, but they weren’t all that close to get those unique facial features. These are some of the shots.
Every so often one of the Cormorants would launch out of the tree, likely to scope out breakfast.
As my camera lens followed that one …
… I whirled around and saw a passel of Cormorants perched on two logs on the opposite side of the pier.
Evidently Cormorants like each other’s company, which is more than I can say for all birds … keep reading and you’ll see what I mean.
Goings-on at the Monguagon Delta.
I’d already taken a ton of shots as I walked back up the pier, slope and across the parking lot to check out what was happening at the Monguagon Delta. I generally stop here first and on occasion, enroute home from Lake Erie Metropark, I do a drive-around to see if any Egrets or Great Blue Herons are lurking about in that marshy pond and if not, I just continue on my way.
I don’t venture along the Delta walkway if it’s windy as it has no railings. Even on a calm weather day, the large Carp chase each other, their big belly flops creating a large splash, often catching me by surprise on this somewhat narrow walkway. Even though the pond is not deep, I’d rather not topple into the drink.
So, on this calm morning, I stepped onto the walkway – at least here if you make a misstep you only end up in the reeds.
I saw a Great Egret that looked elegant in the morning light, its body casting a perfect reflection on the water. The water was so still that I took several photos of that Egret as well as the local industry, all casting pretty reflections. Those photos were used in my September 11th post.
Most times when I am photographing an Egret or Heron, they are so engrossed in fishing, they are oblivious to me standing there on the walkway. But then while chomping on their catch-of-the-day, they spot me and freak out, flapping their wings in a grand escape.
Well, after a few photos, the Egret saw me and took flight.
But, unbeknownst to this Egret or Your Roving Reporter, a Heron was just rounding the bend to look for its breakfast at the Delta. The trees along the Delta shoreline obliterated what happened next as all I heard were screeches and squawks and I saw a Heron flying across the Delta …
… then a blur of wings as that Heron dipped through the trees.
I guess there was a mid-air collision and I missed it as it was out of my range of vision, but wait … soon, each bird took to a different perch, putting distance between them, then glared at one another (and the Egret probably had a few choice words to mumble about me as well).
Here’s the Heron after it alighted …
… and here’s the Egret.
Obviously, being “best buds” doesn’t apply to Herons and Egrets like it does to Cormorants and what had been a peaceful morning just a few moments earlier had deteriorated into two pouting waterfowl and a photographer who knew it was time to leave and continue on her walk.
The wildflowers along the path were pretty.
I didn’t see any beekeepers at “Bees in the D”.
My next stop would be Humbug Marsh and The Old Growth Forest.
The wooden bench looked inviting …
… but I continued on, hanging a right and that is when the Vole scurried in my path – yikes, right at this sign.
I cautioned “okay, buddy – yes, you live here, but next time, wait ‘til I pass, okay?” I know I let out a small scream. Yes, you’re thinking the Vole is more terrified of you than you are of it – not necessarily true! But my brown furry forest pal dashed into the brush so I kept calm and carried on. I was alone in this not-so-dense forest, so no one came to my rescue … good thing, as I’d have been embarrassed.
Part of my prolonged absence at the Refuge was due to all the rain we had in July and early August. The Old Growth Forest has some elevated walkways but some are not and they tend to be muddy. Nothing like slogging along, being mindful of the mud and meanwhile watching for Eastern Fox Snakes and oh yes, ticks too. After all it was while visiting the other Refuge, just five miles away, I got the tick in my ear.
The Vernal Pool, usually a haven for frogs and aquatic plants in the Spring, had become overgrown with weeds, likely due to all the rain, heat and humidity.
As I headed to the end of the walkway, I spotted a few red-tinged leaves on this Shagbark Hickory tree trunk.
At the end of the walkway, it was lush with Cattails, reeds and Purple Loosestrife which made a nice background for the spotting scope, that is, if you ignore the green algae scum on the water.
I saw no birds – usually there are more Egrets or Herons here, so I just kept on walking.
Two’s company, three’s a crowd.
This idiom applies to our feathered friends as well as to humans.
This log is where I always stop to take photos of the turtles sunning themselves. But on this day, the log was occupied by only one turtle and two Mallard ducks. The heavy ducks weighed down the log. I thought of the turtle as being on the other end of a teeter-totter and hoped it didn’t flip up in the air.
Either the trio spotted me, or, this unlikely threesome was awkward, as first the turtle slid off the log, then one of the ducks departed …
… leaving one lonely Mallard, perhaps a bit anti-social, or just enjoying the solitude?
I was nearing the entrance of Humbug Marsh as I saw the weather vane on the visitor center.
It was getting warmish, just a preview of the coming days ahead … we sweltered through a week of the muggies, then plunged back into coolish temps for the long holiday weekend.
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.
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.
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.
Linda Schaub
WALKIN', WRITIN', WIT & WHIMSY 