WALKIN', WRITIN', WIT & WHIMSY

This morning I set out as early as I could to avoid the wicked heat. Whew! Mother Nature sure kicked that humidity up a notch or two from yesterday. The dew was heavy on the lawns and the humidity was so high that even the cars were sweating, as evidenced by droplets running down from the roofs, shimmying along the windshield and then pooling on the concrete in neat and uniform drops.

The weatherman said this morning we are in for “Heat Week” as if it were a big event like “Shark Week” for goodness sake.

I walked to Council Point Park and was just one of a handful of walkers, none whom I knew. I travelled light again and didn’t pack any critter treats which was just as well as I didn’t see squirrels scrambling down the tree to greet me or line up single file behind me to glean any goodies.

I got 1 ½ complete loops done before I headed for home. I wanted to share this picture of a tree in the Park that I call the “Pick up Sticks Tree”. It reminds me of my childhood game by that same name where you’d dump out the canister of long wooden sticks that resemble ultra-skinny knitting needles and then try to extricate each stick without disturbing the rest of the bunch.

This poor tree was felled by a storm awhile back, and it has lain there for months, looking very forlorn, and finally, someone hoping to elicit a giggle or persuade the City to send a wood chipper to this tree’s aid, used a spray can and made the suggestion “Fix Me”.

I wonder if anyone was around to hear that tree fall?

It looks to me like Old Mother Nature just hit the paws button on the Dog Days of Summer, because the heat and humidity, which didn’t stray too far away, has returned.

I wasn’t even a block and a half into my walk when I realized I should not have hit the snooze button those three times, and just gotten up and left earlier, as it was way too hot for my liking. We had some rain last night so I headed to my second string destination – the Rivers Edge Marina in Wyandotte.

As I walked through Lincoln Park, this steamy and sultry Sunday had me desperately seeking shade, until I could reach the canopy of trees that line the Wyandotte portion of Emmons Boulevard.

Then, it was hot, hot, hot crossing the railroad tracks with no shade, until finally I reached Biddle Avenue and headed over to the marina which was already hoppin’. I saw several paddle boats and a pontoon boat in the marina area, plus several large pleasure boats already out on the Detroit River.

The sky was a brilliant blue, without a single cloud and marred only by a contrail or two. Some seagulls started swooping down near my head, inching closer and closer, then dipping so dangerously low that several times I was forced to wave my arms to shoo them away. Perhaps I had a kindly face that they equated with handouts for their breakfast, but this was not the case. I knew the temps were hot and the humidity was high, so I dressed sparingly – just enough to be decent. I even left the camera and pedometer behind.

It took me a little longer to make this round trip today, and I was glad to get out of the sweltering heat and into the cool house. After all this effort, I would have loved to swig a tropical delight like those pictured above, but it was just a tall glass of strawberry milk and a couple of chilled juicy peaches to make me feel human again.

I managed to get five more miles under my belt as I strive to stride to 300 miles by month end, and hopefully this heat wave will be over soon, so I can get ‘er done.

Back in the day I can remember spending hours on a snowy Sunday afternoon playing Monopoly with my parents.   As I recall, it was always a coup when your token landed on “Park Place” and you acquired the deed, so every time I write about, or visit, the landing that juts out over the big drain at Council Point Park, I think of that game and the high-priced property known as Park Place. Today, that fictional piece of land, in reality, might be something that is part of the Trump empire or, in Detroit, a Dan Gilbert acquisition.

When I first began walking at Council Point Park, the water’s edge was a gem where geese, ducks and even swans, and their young, would gather. Whenever I tossed out tidbits of stale bread to them, it took me back to happy times at High Park in Toronto where my parents took me when I was very young. I’d have a bag of bread that Mom cut up for me, which I’d gleefully fling out at the birds, and, even though my aim was not so good, they’d come close to me, creating much noise on their part and eruptions of giggles and squeals of laughter by me.

Well, that was cheap entertainment, but I am richer for the experience.

I also am glad for the nature books my parents bought me and those little trips which helped instill a love of nature in me.

The Park has changed though this past year … sometimes I think it looks a little unloved.

I feel badly when I climb down from the trail to stand on the drain nowadays, as all I see is a still and rather-murky Ecorse Creek, devoid of water fowl. Even the waterlilies that are floating on the surface are missing their blooms … and their frogs.

But, while this concrete precipice at Council Point Park is absent wildlife these days, it is still a wonderful little place for reflections – whether it is your own visage peering into the water, or a place to evoke memories from the recesses of your mind. Sometimes this Park place is merely a venue to appreciate the reflection of the trees upon the water when the sun hits just right. Such a scene, hopefully, I’ve captured in the photo above.

I am reminded of this quote by Henry David Thoreau: “It’s not what you look at that matters, it’s what you see.”

I left the house early today as I wanted to get out and enjoy my walk in the Park before the humidity and heat and humans permeated the Park experience.

This morning was such a time for seeing more than meets the eye and looking at the Park through rose-colored glasses to see the beauty. It was so very peaceful and quiet, as it was early enough that the crowd had not yet arrived. I savored the solitude and enjoyed having the Park to myself, save for a few songbirds that insisted on injecting their music into the silence of the still morn, or, perhaps the occasional teensy splashes in the water of Creek inhabitants like turtles or fish who were coming up for air.

I read online, just this week, that communing with nature on a daily basis increases your ability to concentrate and gives you more brain power – really?! Too bad you can’t bottle up that experience and sell it, huh?

Still another morning walk with no perspiration or precipitation. Boy, I could really get used to this beautiful weather that we’ve had the past week, and, it is supposed to continue like this ‘til next Tuesday. It sure helps to make up for the deluge of rain we had during May and June, and enables me to catch up with all those missed miles from walking sessions marred by bad weather.

Today’s trip was to Council Point Park and I was not alone there. Many people were taking advantage of the bright skies and cooler temperature to get their miles done as well. Although I carry my camera with me most days, there are not always feathered friends close enough to take their picture to use in my posts. While the ducks and geese have not been plentiful and I’ve yet to catch sight of that big heron either this season, I’ve seen plenty of blackbirds flying low over the marshy areas and flitting from branch to branch. They move much too quickly for me to get their picture because when I get home, I find the images are just a blur.

But, I was lucky enough to have this baby robin strike a pose for me. He sat there for the longest time while I snapped away, but I liked this up-close-and-personal shot the best. This little guy is still bob-tailed since the tail feathers have not grown in and you can see his chest plumage is still speckled and not the pretty reddish-orange hue that we’re accustomed to seeing. He actually had a happy look, unlike most of the robins that hang out around my house, who strut around with an attitude and have a definite surly disposition.

My two laps around the Park, along with steps taken to get there and back, yielded another five miles toward my total for the year. I’ve set myself a mini goal of 300 miles by month end and, if Mother Nature cooperates and my legs hold out, I’m thinking I will reach that mark by next Friday.

… you’re a block from home and you see a convoy of DTE trucks and linemen looking up at the wires overhead.

Just such an event followed a wonderful walk in stellar weather this morning.

When I began my trek, the sun was high in the sky, and, since I left early enough, I decided to travel down to the River and the marina. But, as I neared Alfred Street, site of the railroad crossing gates and train tracks, a loud whistle preceded the lowering of the gates and quickly the train was upon me. I decided to just forego the last leg of my trip, and changed direction. As it turned out, I needn’t have abandoned my original destination, as it was a very short train. Ah well … maybe tomorrow.

On my return trip up Emmons Boulevard, I saw only one person, a woman who had just crossed the tracks and was walking briskly behind me, while singing away to some tunes that were playing in her ears. From her shadow and the louder singing, I knew she was gaining speed and getting closer to me. As she passed by, we spoke about the beautiful weather and just began walking side-by-side. Amongst our topics were local current events and a discussion of online versus traditional newspapers. She mentioned “The Wyandotte Patch”, the hyperlocal newspaper where I write an identical blog to this one. I asked her if she ever read “that girl who writes about walking” and she said “yes I do”, so I couldn’t help myself and blurted out “well, that would be me” (as I enjoyed just a smidgeon of my proverbial 15 minutes of fame). We chit-chatted amiably as we walked along, and I knew I should take that fork in the road toward my home, but I decided to extend our conversation a little further. Finally, to risk shin splints and arriving home way too late, Mary and I said our goodbyes and I headed in the right direction this time.

As I got closer to home, I was lost in thought, that is … until I heard the rumbling of large trucks. I looked ahead but couldn’t see anything going on, and just dismissed the noise as someone having cement work or other outside home improvements done which required the assemblage of multiple workers with large vehicles. About a block from home, I flipped the corner of my tee-shirt up and bent my head to check the pedometer after the extra few blocks I had put in, and noted happily I was over five miles. But, when I raised my head, I saw three large DTE trucks on the cross-street near my home. Yesterday, I saw in the online newspaper that all the street lights on Fort Street and Dix Avenue were going to be replaced over the next few months, necessitating the power to be taken off for the street lights, until the job was completed. It was not, however, supposed to affect the power in the residential areas. The cub reporter in me had to scope out the situation to determine if that was the reason for the commotion, or, if I should worry about Buddy, remoting into work, writing the blog that was bubbling in my brain and/or the contents of my refrigerator … all in that order. So, I hurried over to ask one of the lineman the “who, what, where, when, why and how” about their presence.

I approached him and said “is all this activity about turning off the juice to the streetlights, or, do I have to worry about no power today?” He smiled and said “nope, we’re just here to fix that line that’s hanging down over there where you just walked under.” Well, … gulp. I swiveled my head around posthaste and squinted as the sun bounced off my glasses giving me a prism effect. I shielded my eyes, and, sure enough, there was a big electrical line hanging down … right where I had just walked. “Guess I am blessed” was my response and he just smiled and said “have a good day.”

It was a beautiful morning so I set my sights on walking two loops at Council Point Park. The lure of the natural setting amidst the hustle and bustle of the City keeps me returning there as much as possible. Another draw for me is the ability to walk on the asphalt path without having to constantly sidestep uneven sidewalks, potholes in the streets and distracted drivers to whom the average pedestrian is seemingly invisible. Invisible – not so much, but sometimes I feel like I should be when you see how most people drive anymore.

And, morning drivers are the worst! Nine times out of ten, they are leaving the house behind schedule, so they are in a hurry and not mindful of others. I can’t tell you how many times while walking in the residential areas, someone just backs out of the driveway without a care in the world, never looking to see if someone is behind them. For that reason, I generally wait, anticipating their next move, before I make mine. I’ve never heard of so many vehicle versus pedestrian accidents either until the past few years, a fact that worries me somewhat. In the Summer the pace is more leisurely and you don’t have the moms (and dads too, of course) hurriedly backing out of the driveway without looking both ways, because the kids are running late for school, and need to be dropped off … sometimes at multiple schools, before the driver continues on to work or whatever else is on their agenda.

That is why once I’m on the Park perimeter path, it is just walking … taking in nature or letting my mind wonder and wander while I walk.

So, it was with dismay I listened to the radio interview this morning about the new “mini city” in Ann Arbor where autonomous cars go to practice and perfect their moves. Mcity bustles with activities and vehicles blitz around the streets where they must encounter robots, like Sebastian, who purposely cross their path to see if the vehicles will react on a dime. Sebastian even walks with a gait – he swings his arms as he is striding along, just like a person would. If the driverless car stops, Sebastian’s “life” is spared … if not, he becomes a twisted metal pile on the road and it is back to the drawing board. For my out-of-state followers, if you want to read more about Mcity, go to this link: http://gizmodo.com/welcome-to-mcity-the-fake-town-built-for-testing-drive-1719142309

It all sounds fascinating, but once autonomous cars become the norm, I think I’ll get a treadmill for the basement.  In the meantime, I added another five miles toward my total walking miles – smoothly and safely.

The Dog Days of Summer (named for the alignment of the sun and Sirius, the dog star) usually lasts about 40 days, from July 3^rd to August 11^th.

In Michigan, they were here for a couple of days, then just romped away.  Siriusly!

Perhaps they weren’t willing to share the spotlight with Pluto?

Today is the anniversary of the moon landing back in 1969. Somewhere in my old desk downstairs is the front page of “The Detroit News” commemorating the lunar landing, which seems like old hat now that Pluto is sending pictures back to Earth, from some three billion miles away. I wonder how many youngsters found out last week that Pluto was a planet and not just a cute Disney-animated pooch?

We have a stretch of good weather for this entire week, or so the weather folks tell us. I believe we have finally willed our rain to go away for awhile, and, it has landed in Southern California where the song says it never rains, but has been raining cats and dogs there for several days.

It was still a wee bit warm and stifling when I left for my walk, but loads better than the past two days. I wondered where I’d travel today because, quite frankly, I lost track of what happened with the weather yesterday. Generally, I don’t walk in the Park if it rained recently. I knew all the weather forecasters called for severe weather Sunday afternoon, but happily that didn’t happen – I don’t even think we had a single drop of rain. I know there was no water pooling on the top of my ornamental milk can when I stepped outside this morning. Hmmmmm.

I decided to just head to the River. Along the way I saw two German shepherds shepherding a very large man. He was huffing and puffing behind them as they strained on their respective leashes, clearly going where THEY wanted to go. As to their master, he was struggling mightily to keep up with them. I also saw the two snorting and sniffling English bulldogs with their owner, a wisp of a woman. She didn’t need to scramble to keep up with the pair as they ambled down the Boulevard, leaving a trail of spittle and drool behind them. Their leashes are almost an afterthought as she holds them limply in her hand. Occasionally, the trio stopped on the sidewalk where she’d offer them a sip from a water bottle she was carrying. I watched them tip their huge heads back to drink … glug, glug, glug, as that bottle of water hit the spot. I’ve never seen dogs drink like that before this pair.

I passed the corner house where the dog rules the backyard. There is a section of the patio devoted to the family dog, with a long and comfy pad that rises off the hot concrete, a small wading pool and a beautiful ceramic bowl with a bone motif filled with clean, cool water. Dog toys are scattered in the area as well. Then, there is the large house where, on any given day, there are at least 50 fluorescent yellow-green tennis balls in the backyard. I guess the word “fetch” is not in this dog’s vocabulary, or perhaps the owner doesn’t collect them until he mows the lawn?

While hoofin’ it today I added four miles to my total, but I’m nodding off as I write this – just dawg tired I guess.

Today, as Summer continued to establish itself as the “real current season”, I set out on another early morning walk. It didn’t seem to be as hot and sticky as yesterday, but, perhaps that was because I pared down my paraphernalia like the pedometer and camera to make a lighter load before I left.

Once again I headed to the River, and, as the early morning sun filtered through the trees on Emmons Boulevard, I marveled at the many iridescent slug trails which criss-crossed the sidewalks as I strode along. They actually glistened and were very pretty, like someone took a skinny paintbrush and dipped it in glitter and decorated the cement. Probably, because I was studying the sidewalk, enthralled in those slug trails, suddenly out of nowhere, I heard a male voice politely calling out “coming up behind you”, so I raised my hand to acknowledge the message, then turned my head to wish him good morning as he passed. He had beads of sweat rolling down his face and was trying to swipe it away with his hand, unsuccessfully I think, as he was squinting as it burned his eyes. Soon, he was just a green dot in the distance – bright green shorts and dark shoes with fluorescent green circles on the soles which bobbed up and down with each step he took. So, suddenly I was alone again, doing a Sunday stroll, and the young man with the sinewy, tanned leg muscles was many blocks ahead of me.

It was so very peaceful, with just the occasional mourning dove’s plaintive cooing and occasional rat-a-tat-tat of a downy woodpecker. But the quiet was suddenly stilled by the tooting of a train horn and the cacophony of sounds at the train crossing gate as the arm lowered. I was still a block or so away as the train burst upon the scene, its rumbling on the rickety tracks disturbing the cooing cadence of the dove, and its counterparts who were either trilling or drilling. i.e. the songbirds and woodpecker, respectively all along the Boulevard.

I also saw a butterfly this morning. I missed seeing them because it has been coolish on my morning jaunts. Unbelievably, I didn’t see it hovering about my head or body until I glimpsed my shadow and I witnessed its graceful flight near my ear as I walked along. I was very still hoping it would alight on me, but it soon left in search of beautiful blossoms and the sweet nectar they contain. This sultry Sunday stroll garnered me another four miles toward my goal, and I had my own sweet nectar – a tall glass of strawberry milk when I returned home

Just as that old song by The Jamies says – it’s Summertime. Today and tomorrow anyway.

It was an icky and sticky morning when I ventured out in considerably less clothing than my walks earlier in the week. Even so, when I stepped out of the air-conditioned house it felt a sauna bath.

Since it rained off-and-on yesterday, I figured I’d walk down to the marina. But, there aren’t many trees on Emmons Boulevard in Lincoln Park, so I was sweltering as I walked along, even in the early morn. Once I crossed the Ecorse Creek footbridge, the canopy of trees all down the street provided some welcome shade, that is … until I reached the train tracks and the shade was gone again. It was downright hot by then, so I turned around and headed back home.

I also felt hobbled somewhat by my new walking shoes. They are not quite broken in and felt like lead weights on my feet, almost as though I was wearing Dutch klompen as I trekked down the street.

Despite yesterday’s significant rainfall, many homeowners, in an effort to keep their petunias perky and their lawns emerald green, had their sprinklers turned on, so I was forever dodging the sprays of water and stepping out into the street. I saw several robins racing through the sprinkler spray, trying to beat their brethren to the worms that would likely be available in the moist lawns and I saw many sparrows drinking and splashing in the puddles on the road. Quite honestly, I almost wished I could join them.

I’d have enjoyed a longer walk today, but the sun beatin’ down on my head did me in. The good news is that my miles walked this morning helped me reach the half-way mark to my eventual goal of 500 miles. I was having some serious doubts about reaching that milestone, let alone 500 miles … but onward and upward.

Ok, Summer – you put in an appearance, so … may we return to the cooler temps again?

One of our local meteorologists, Paul Gross, says “get set to sweat” tomorrow. Well, there was no sweating this morning I’ll tell you. When I got up at 5:00 a.m., it was only 54 degrees out. The house seemed cold to me, even after I downed my first cup of coffee, and ate my piping hot oatmeal. So, I turned on the furnace and let it run one cycle to take the chill out of the air for the wee one and me.

I set out early with my destination of Council Point Park.   I tied a bag on the side of my fanny pack, which I filled with peanuts and some dried-up bread, hoping to entice either my furry or feathered friends to visit me on the trail or along the water’s edge, respectively.

The neighborhoods were so quiet with fans and A/C units stilled in the chilly morn. At the Park, I started the trail and nary a soul was in sight … neither man nor beast.   As I plodded along the perimeter path, I scanned the Creek water looking for ducks to offload my bread for their breakfast, but there were none.

But the water lilies caught my attention, so I decided to go down the slope and check them out. There were many pads clustered together and floating daintily, seemingly supported by the funky-looking seaweed just beneath the surface of the murky water. Despite all the rain we’ve had this year, sometimes the Creek water is really brown and all you can see beneath the surface is the seaweed. While the water lilies were something different in the Creek water, I just saw lots of round leaves, but no lilies. I wonder who feasted on those delicate flowers? I didn’t see any frogs sitting on the pads either.

As I turned around to leave, there was a movement beyond in the bushes.   I shielded my eyes from the glare of the sun, but couldn’t see anything, so I positioned myself out of the sun. Then I saw something stir again so I stayed very still to investigate. Though I didn’t have my binoculars on me to hone in for a closer look, I realized I could zoom in with the camera.

It was then that I saw them. A collection of ducklings, all huddled together in a safe haven from the Creek and any predators … including me. They were very quiet, not moving a muscle, so I, too, stopped in my tracks. I waited a few minutes until they were comfortable with my presence, then I took the camera out slowly to capture the serene setting. I took several pictures of the group and then this one duckling who seemingly posed for me.

Then I tucked the camera back into its case and stayed silent in the event they decided to waddle out, one by one, to deposit themselves into the Creek. But they stayed put, so I moved on, musing for the rest of my time on the Park path that I had been lookin’ for ducks in all the wrong places. Yup, the water seemed like the logical spot, but clearly I was wrong, wrong, wrong.

Today was just ducky indeed … beautiful weather and an energizing five-mile trip to the Park. I was so enamored with my little feathered friends that I was halfway home before I realized that I never tendered my treats – maybe tomorrow.