WALKIN', WRITIN', WIT & WHIMSY

It’s Friday the 13th plus there’s a full moon tonight. Not only that, it is technically a “Super Full Moon”, a celestial rarity which won’t happen again for 35 years, so best get thee to the window or outside after dark tonight. Well, should that make us super-superstitious today then? When you think of Friday the 13th, oddball things often come to mind, so here’s where I should cue the intro music from the TV show “The Twilight Zone” followed by the euphonious, yet mysterious, voice of Rod Serling. Now that I’ve set the stage, I’ll tell the tale which accompanies the photo above of a park bench with a rather odd-looking seat slat. I pass this memorial park bench every time I walk at Council Point Park. One day it was A-OK and the next day one of the three slats was bent out of shape – literally. The slat is not damaged in the least; in fact, the veneer is intact and unmarred and there are no splinters in the wood. It is the topic of conversation amongst Park walkers as we each try to guess what happened. Did a heavy person sit on the edge of the bench? Did someone stomp on just that bench slat with soft-soled shoes? It was very humid when I took the picture and the dew drops which were hanging along the back of the bench were pendulous and looked ready to drop down like big teardrops. It was a little eerie. I’m flummoxed. I must concede that perhaps, my mind, like the park bench seat, is a trifle warped to devote an entire post to such an anomaly. But really – what gives with this? I hope you have tread through your Friday the 13th without incident. To get myself through this somewhat ominous event I did not carry along a lucky rabbit’s foot (for fear of offending any of the bunnies who might cross my path at the Park), nor did I choose to knock on wood, especially, on this wooden park bench, because surely it would smash it to smithereens.

It was a little on the steamy side when I departed for my walk this morning – yep, just hot and humid like a Summer day. I was wearing a cap-sleeved cotton shirt and still felt clammy. There were no critter treats to take along since I finished them up the other day, so I was streamlined and ready to roll nice and early. I got down to Council Point Park and had started on the first loop, when the mounds of white stuff floating on the Ecorse Creek immediately caught my eye. In the past, I described it as looking like dishwater, all sudsy and brimming over the top of the Creek. Today, I looked a little closer, (or perhaps my glasses were cleaner), and noticed it was not a film at all, but mounds of white fluff from the dandelions and cottonwood trees that had accumulated and settled atop the water as you see in the picture above. Unbelievable! It just sort of sat there since it was a calm morning and there was no wind. The fluff and stuff was bunched together in various places along the Creek, and, in other spots with no accumulated fuzzies, the water was just brown and murky. I walked only one lap today, so I was slackin’ off I guess, or perhaps the muggies got to me. You can bet the first item I checked when I got home was my A/C unit to ensure there was no white fluff clogging up the grill that needed hosing off. Surprisingly, there was none, but maybe the recent rain was slanting sideways and took it all off. This got me wondering where all that fuzz and fluff ends up eventually? No wonder that fish was jumping out of the water so quickly last week. He was probably getting asphyxiated between the fuzzies and the brown water and wanted to get out of there pronto … I can’t say that I blame him.

Every day is a new experience when I go for a walk and I hope my near-daily vignettes of life from sidewalk level make you feel like you are travellin’ the trail right alongside me. There are always people, places and things that pique my interest and provide plenty of fodder for my daily blog posts. Most of my tidbits from the trail are encounters at Council Point Park. Today, besides the usual two-legged creatures of the human variety, I was lucky enough to see seven types of “wildlife”. With my camera in tow, I had my usual “feed bag” brimming full of peanuts and bread, which I was eager to dispense. But, this morning it was not necessary to lure any one particular critter for a photo op – they all seemed to gravitate toward me. Well didn’t I feel special? I was kept busy snapping pictures of God’s many winged and four-legged creatures, which then posed the dilemma as to which one would be featured in today’s post when all was said and done? Unfortunately I wasn’t able to get a group shot of a gaggle of geese, a row of ducks, two bunnies, a trio of squirrels, one red-winged blackbird, one downy woodpecker – and, oh yes, a beautiful heron. Definitely the coup from my trip was the appearance of at least one of the mysterious mallards whose presence has eluded me all Spring since I resumed my walking regimen at the Park. This morning, I thought my heart would melt when Mama duck and her ducklings went floating by on the Creek. Too bad I had already used up all my bread tidbits on the geese and then rounded the bend and saw the duck family. To top it off, I was so busy admiring Mama and her brood, that I nearly missed the heron lurking in the reeds. I momentarily lost my footing, slid down a little on the grassy slope and this made a noise and he took flight, flapping his mighty wings before I got his picture. But he’ll show up again. The outing would have been 100 percent perfect had that beautiful swan I saw last Fall happen to glide by. My momentary escape from the Big City for the ultimate nature walk was fleeting, but the images of this treasure trove of “wildlife” will live on in my mind for a very long time and be peppered throughout future blog posts – stay tuned.

I was glad to be back at the Park this morning after yesterday’s rain ruined my morning walk. I left the house in shirtsleeves, since, during the last three outings, I shucked my sweater on the first loop. Well, that was a mistake as it was windy and I ended up with goose bumps. So, I walked faster to work up a sweat. That is, until I saw the whole Canada Goose family ahead of me and I stopped to check them out and persuade them to pose for me. Mission accomplished – take a look above. Since I last saw the trio of goslings about a week ago, they have doubled in size. Well “leggy” is nice if you’re a supermodel, but it looks a little funny on a gosling. At this stage, they look gangly and out of proportion, and … yes, even rather homely. Gone is that cuddly, gee-I-wish-I-could-scoop-you-up-and-take-you-home-with-me look they had when I first saw them on Mother’s Day weekend. Just a few more weeks ‘til they resemble their parents and probably will have the attitudes and big mouths that rival their folks’ dispositions. For now, however, it appears they’ve not yet learned the fine art of hissing and wing-flapping at their cohorts and how to honk non-stop. Give them time as they are adolescents after all, so there is bound to be push-back of some type. Now, everyone has heard the story of the ugly duckling, and I sure wouldn’t disparage these teenaged goslings, except for the fact that I’ve been there myself. There are some pictures in the old family albums (and where they shall repose permanently) and I sure didn’t look like anyone’s “darling” either. I remember well the angst of those awkward years … homely, with bad hairdos running the gamut of bangs cut on an angle giving me a rather spaced-out or quizzical look, bizarre-looking curls which were the result of a bad Toni home perm and let’s not forget that I was a victim of those hated cat-eye glasses which I started wearing on my 7th birthday. My school pictures in eighth grade were so bad my parents didn’t buy them. I was crushed. After all I was your only child and what a blow to my ego at the time! Of course my mom would remind me through the years that “beauty is only skin deep” as if that was the magic balm to soothe my wounded pre-teen and teenage psyche. I look forward to seeing the grown-up goslings in future walks … they will be sleek and beautiful geese who will graze and walk the same grounds as me and I probably won’t even recognize them. A wiser person than me tells it like it is: Everything has beauty, but not everyone sees it. ~~Confucius

Well, I’m not a member of the horsey set, but, if you follow this blog, you know I am an animal lover and a bleeding heart when it comes to critters. In fact, probably not even my closest friends know that my dream as a youngster was to be a veterinarian, however, my grades in math and science in high school and my first year in college were not good enough to pursue that interest. Eventually, I had to abandon that hoped-for profession and I vicariously enjoyed James Herriot’s autobiographical series “All Creatures Great and Small” instead. I don’t follow horse racing, but usually try to watch the Kentucky Derby, Preakness and Belmont Stakes races online every year. Like most folks, I’ll root today for California Chrome in today’s running of the Belmont Stakes. Hopefully, we’ll have a new Triple Crown winner in California Chrome. What a beauty he is, this chestnut-colored colt who runs like the wind. This morning as I travelled my own version of an oval track down at Council Point Park, I found myself thinking about this colt running in the race of his life today. Just like my travels around the oval loop, there is ultimately a goal. My five miles walked today took me 1 ¼ miles to complete – of course, on a weekend I meander along the trail, lingering at the Park a little longer than usual. I understand the race today is 1½ miles, longer than the prior two races. We all tucker out as the end of the trek is near and we are on the home stretch. Hopefully, California Chrome will surge forward, as before, and cross the finish line, leaving his competitors trailing behind. The odds makers favor California Chrome and I’ll predict he shows his stellar stuff and tonight will prevail in the third jewel of the Triple Crown in horse racing. This oval track path today will surely change California Chrome’s life going forward. Oh sure, he’ll get a hug around the neck, a pat on the head, extra oats and a special rubdown tonight. He’ll be draped with white carnations and the media will glom all over him and why not? This magnificent animal will certainly deserve it and a new Triple Crown winner has been a very long time coming.

Back in 1972 I was lucky enough to pose with this pretty chestnut foal that belonged to friends of our family in Coral Gables, Florida. This colt was stabled with a racehorse Alex and Betty Kantor owned and ran at Hialeah Park Race Track back in the late 60s and early 70s. My parents and I were visiting them for a few days before taking a Bahama Islands cruise out of the port of Miami. We saw the usual tourist attractions, including the greyhound races at Hialeah Park. One day they took us to the horse farm. Immediately I fell in love with this foal and did not want to leave her at the end of our visit. She was all sweetness and goodness and followed me around the paddock like a puppy. Her shiny coat was warm from frolicking in the Summer sun and her velvety ears and soft mane endeared her to me as she nuzzled up close. What little kid didn’t want a pony growing up? Well, I did, and then, after our visit, I now coveted a horse, just like this one. Perhaps I was channeling Liz Taylor’s character “Velvet Brown” in “National Velvet” … who knows? But a horse was not in the cards for me. I wish I remembered this sweet foal’s name … perhaps her moniker contained the word “star” for obvious reasons. I know she was a star in my mind anyway and I hope California Chrome will similarly be a shining star by day’s end.

It was another coolish morning with temps in the mid-50s when I left the house. I just love this weather! Once again, it felt and sounded like Fall. Dry maple seeds or “helicopters”, which have swirled and drifted beneath maple trees and scattered themselves along City sidewalks, made a crunching noise, not unlike crumpled Autumn leaves, under my feet as I walked. This morning I mixed business with pleasure and had a two-part journey … first to Memorial Park and then down to my usual haunt – Council Point Park.

The early morning radio broadcasts were filled with programming devoted to the D-Day monumental anniversary. There were many sound bites, including a speech by FDR about that fateful day, all in advance of the 70th D-Day ceremonies to be held later. I thus had D-Day on my mind as I left the house. I decided to walk over to Memorial Park as a sign of respect to those 4,500 Allied troops who lost their lives on June 6, 1944. After leaving the pavilion area, I was remembering all the films we used to watch in history classes in middle school and high school back in the day. One of the aids our teachers used through the years were sepia-toned films about significant historical events. The films were very comprehensive and alot more interesting than reading a textbook or flipping through the “Encyclopedia Britannica” to find one-dimensional pictures and pages of text only. Those films used to have a catch-phrase: “everything is the same except YOU are there”. I mused about how we learned history versus the resources available to today’s young scholars and how very lucky modern students are since they have the Internet at their disposal. They probably don’t realize it, but it sure beats a trip to the library, checking out the card catalogue, up and down the aisles, then pawing through dusty and musty old books to do research for what seemed like endless term papers.

As if on cue, as I was thinking of my formative years, I spied a group of young boys with huge packs tethered to their backs, walking along Ferris Street – they were moving along rather dejectedly, not uttering a word to one another, shoulders hunched and heads down. I said “good morning guys – when is the last day of school?” thinking that question posed and their anticipated upcoming school break would brighten their day. Indeed it did and the trio chimed in all at once: “three more days!” It goes without saying they were excited about the last day of school – nothing changes after all these years … the anticipation of Summer vacation and no school is ageless.

When I arrived at Council Point Park, just like yesterday, the sun was high in the sky and glinted off my eyeglasses, temporarily blinding me. I got onto the perimeter path and was on my first loop, when a beautiful Downy Woodpecker flew into a nearby tree and started pecking the trunk fast and furiously. I stopped and watched since I had a clear view of both him and his handiwork on that poor tree trunk. He was oblivious to me standing there as he was intent on drilling for grubs. I whipped out my camera and turned it this way and that, checking him out in the viewfinder, so I wouldn’t get home and find a photo wherein he is a mere speck. I snapped a couple of shots and put the camera back in my pocket and just then a gentleman walked by and asked if I saw the beautiful red bird as well. I had not and told him so. He asked about my photographing the woodpecker and I told him that I write a blog and recently dusted off my digital camera to take photos to accompany my daily blog posts. He told me he occasionally read the blog posts of a woman on the hyper local news site “Wyandotte Patch”. He said “she walks all over and never drives her car” and I said “that’s me!” Well, fancy that … it made my day to talk to a stranger who follows my blog. We exchanged names and chatted amicably about walking in the Park, bird watching, writing and a smattering of other subjects over two more perimeter path loops, then we parted to take on the day and finish the rest of our respective daily routines.

The recognition of my blog posts by Bob was great fun; in fact, I thought about it all the way home. But truly, the more important recognition on this 6th day of June 2014 is for the many troops who lost their lives on D-Day. Thousands of casualties, and to think about it, or see the devastation on the big screen in “Saving Private Ryan”, was just mind boggling. Sure, I could have used that Downy Woodpecker picture for today’s post, but ever-mindful of this important anniversary, I decided to use this sepia-toned image of the veterans memorial and cannon at Memorial Park. As the years speed past us, unfortunately, by the 80th year commemoration of D-Day, there may not be any more veterans left who were present at the beaches of Normandy and able to give a personal account, so we must collectively never forget the importance of this day.

I scurried out the door to a morning blessed with sunshine and a cloudless sky. At 55 degrees, it was feeling rather Fall-ish and I sure wasn’t warm in my sweatshirt cardigan. Yesterday’s all-day rain had soaked into the mulch and it was dark brown and smelled like fresh cedar and the grass was still heavy with dew. As I walked down the driveway, the peevish robin with the big-time attitude was wrestling with a worm as he struggled to wrest it from the soggy ground. I watched him for a minute and soon he was successful and the worm was wiggling precariously from the tip of his beak. Mr. Robin saw me and dropped his prize, gave me his usual steely stare and started chattering at me. I am sure he was saying “well, she tore down my nest countless times, so just let her mess with my worm now” … I shot him back an equally icy glare and told that sour puss I’d already had my oatmeal hours ago and his breakfast did not interest me in the least. He picked up his worm and hopped away from me as fast as his two legs could carry him. As I continued on my trek to Council Point Park, the effects of yesterday’s rain were evident with large pools of water everywhere. Sparrows had congregated and were both sipping from and bathing in the big puddles in the street. I thought it was rather a brisk morning for a soak, but they were nonetheless enjoying this unexpected and rather unconventional birdbath, flipping and flapping their wings in the water. When I arrived at the Park, the sun was strong and in my eyes and it momentarily blinded me as I started on the perimeter path. I heard the usual cacophony of birdsong from the hidden areas of bushes or high nests in the trees and it was a welcome melody on this pretty morn. As I ambled along, finally the sun shifted out of my direct path, and I could see a large group of geese grazing in the baseball diamond. For once they were quiet as they contentedly stood in place, their long necks stretched to the ground to nibble the weeds and tall blades of grass. I was busy watching them from afar when a goldfinch zipped right past me and alighted on a nearby tree branch, its beautiful bright yellow and black plumage easily identifying its presence in a tall plum tree. I wished I had brought some bread or some treat to entice it to come closer or down to the ground so perhaps I could take its picture, but it flitted from branch to branch disappearing from sight. By chance I saw him another time when I had the camera in my hand and I snapped his picture for this blog post. My neighbor, Marge, fills a feeder with thistle seeds which are goldfinch magnets. From her door wall or kitchen window, she is able to watch these fine-looking goldfinches as they gather on her deck awaiting their turn at the feeder. I grew sunflowers a few years ago, hoping to lure these perky beauties to my garden, but the head of the largest sunflower, laden with seeds, broke off and toppled to the ground. The squirrels were in their glory but I doubt they shared much of their booty with the bevy of finches who were lingering nearby. As I moved along the perimeter path, once again I took note that the ducks were not present and the squirrels were similarly mysteriously MIA. On the north loop of the trail, the grass was especially long and there was red and white clover all over. As I walked, occasionally I detected a slight movement in the overgrown grass and clover, and much to my delight, I noticed baby bunnies contently munching on the clover, and enjoying the sweet nectar of this pretty weed. I know when I was young, my friends and I would pull the red or purple clover blossoms from the meadow and pluck out the inside petals to sip the sweet nectar. The grassy areas were so plentiful with clover that often the bunnies’ tall ears, shell-pink and translucent in the strong morning sun, were all that I saw above the clover … they usually saw me before I saw them and the bunnies would bolt for cover while I was still several yards away. I logged four miles this morning while enjoying the bliss of the birds and bunnies and a wee bit of peace and tranquility on the fly.

As I wend my way through the neighborhoods on my daily journey down to Council Point Park, I pass an empty house on Pagel Street. The house itself is in fairly good shape, but if ever a home looks unloved, it is this one. It is not just the curtainless windows, but everything else looks barren as well. No plants or flowers are gracing the front or side of the house and there is a perpetually empty driveway and front porch. There are no barefoot, laughing children running across the lawn through a sprinkler, tossing their scooters to the side or propping their two-wheelers against the wall. But, what really defines this property as an abandoned home, are the overgrown bushes, grass and weeds, which are really a sight to see. In fact, this picture does not come close to demonstrating just how miserable looking and unforsaken this place on Pagel actually is. Wherever you look, the grass and weeds are knee high. From the City sidewalk, I could see the back yard which also looks like a sickle or a John Deere tractor is needed to restore order to these lawns. I have to wonder if the neighbors are placing calls to Lincoln Park’s Project Pride and they are going unanswered, because some of the parks are similarly overgrown. The grassy area in the medium on northbound and southbound Fort Street look about the same, but that area is maintained by the County. Right now, unfortunately, it creates still more shabbiness to the appearance of our fair City. As to Fort Street, I’m guessing the grass will be cut in advance of our annual Cruisin’ Downriver event on June 28th … but, for now, the forlorn look around town is just another example of our City’s financial straits as we await word when, or if, an emergency manager will be put in place. Sadly, I doubt right now that potential buyers in nearby cities are thinking that the grass is greener in Lincoln Park and considering a move here anytime soon.

Whew! It seems we have zipped past Spring and gone right to Summer. It was sultry and steamy when I left for my walk this morning and even the breeze didn’t cool me off. My feet were hot in my padded socks and heavy walking shoes and I mused that wiggling my toes in flip-flops might have been preferred. When I got down to Council Point Park I glanced at the water as I rounded the first bend and the Ecorse Creek was very brown and murky looking as you see in the photo above. In some places there was a white bubbly substance floating on top – it looked like dishwater, plus it smelled a little funky as well … almost fishy. While I was wishing for a clothespin for my nose, I heard a splash, so I swiveled my head just on time to see a fairly big fish leaping out of the water and doing a belly flop. In all the time spent gazing at the Creek this past year, I’ve seen plenty of water fowl and frogs, but never a fish. I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me, so I just kept walking and then I heard the splish-splash once again. I saw the tail fin of a fish as it was jumping out of the water and then plopping in once again. I am sure he was trying to escape the nasty brown Ecorse Creek water but he couldn’t get very far. This time I stopped and walked over to the banks of the Creek and pulled out my camera to get a shot of the catch-of-the-day when he next appeared. I waited around for ten minutes but I suspect he took off to parts unknown since he never resurfaced again.

Raindrops put a kibosh on my morning agenda so I stayed close to the neighborhood, not straying all the way down to Council Point Park. When I left the house, it was lightly sprinkling but I went anyway. Even though I’ve not yet set a year-end goal, I know there will come a day when I’ll be close to achieving some monumental mile marker and I’ll lament “well I could have gone that time or another time” … so off I went. On the fourth loop around Ford Park, the rain went from a sprinkle to a drizzle so I turned in the direction of home. Actually, it was welcome since it cooled me off a bit as I had been chugging right along and it was a smidge humid and muggy … and buggy. What’s with all the mosquitoes so early in the season? Summer isn’t even here yet. So reluctantly, soon I was homeward bound, all the while scowling at the rain and the lackluster 2.50 miles walked that I saw when I looked down to check my pedometer. When I lifted up my head, what did I see as I strode up the sidewalk, but my Nelly Moser clematis laden with mauve blooms which were just twinkling away on the vine as they climbed up to the log cabin birdfeeder. I’d not been in the backyard since Saturday morning so all the buds must’ve opened at once. Suddenly the gray and gloomy sky and my attitude seemed a whole lot brighter. I guess you could say that mauve-colored twinkles wiped out the wrinkles in my Monday.