WALKIN', WRITIN', WIT & WHIMSY

The old adage is “a picture is worth a thousand words” so I suppose I could post a slew of photos I took and call it done, but I believe I owe you a backstory. Today’s post will focus on feathers, a tale about a Mama Robin and her baby.

As I mentioned in my recent post about once again toting my camera to Council Point Park, it was the sighting of this Mama Robin and her baby that changed my mindset.

How this tale unfolded ….

The morning of Saturday, June 8th I walked from my house to Council Point Park. I had been on an extra-long outing the day before and had not stopped here first as I often do. As I neared the Park there were police officers coning off traffic and placing detour signs, so I realized it must be the Rails Rally 5K, an annual event held every June since 2016 – monies raised go toward the Lincoln Park Schools Education Foundation. I participated in 2017 (my very first 5K event), then again in 2019. (I registered in 2018 but did not attend due to rain.) The race begins at Council Point Park, then the route shifts to the streets and concludes at the Park.

I knew my furry and feathered friends would not be happy to see crowds infiltrating “their space” as a similar wariness prevails when the grass cutters arrive and, really – haven’t my Park pals dealt with enough noise and commotion since “the project” began on May 8th?

I knew there would be no “drop” of peanuts and seeds at the pavilion area as it would be jam-packed with volunteers handing out race packets, drinks and snacks. The finish line for the event is set up in the walking loop near the Safe Haven Tree.

As I stepped into the driveway I noted the already-full parking lot, then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a flutter of wings as an adult Robin descended carefully onto the top of the chain link fence, positioning itself away from the barbed wires where a nest was nestled in between two barbed wire lines that were strung over the chain link fence that surrounds a utility building.

I watched Mama Robin as she popped a morsel of food into an upturned beak and quickly surmised there was only one nestling. I found myself saying “aww” with my attention focused on the nest, then cursed myself for my stubbornness in not having the camera at the ready, hooked onto my fanny pack.

I lingered about 15 minutes after Mama flew off in search of more morsels, hoping to catch another glimpse of the feeding ritual. I had to smile to myself as predictably, the nestling’s beak remained upturned the entire time.

It was getting warm standing in the hot sun, so I made an executive decision: I’d take one spin on the walking path before the race participants returned as there would be a hubbub of activity in the Park on the walking path.

I doled out peanuts and sunflower seeds in record time, then hustled home, beads of sweat trickling into my eyes as I was really “hoofin’ it” on that humid morning. I put down the treat bag, splashed cold water on my face, grabbed the camera and was headed back, on foot, minutes later.

The event’s crowd and commotion persisted, but in this tiny corner of the world, one baby bird, with its upturned beak awaited its Mama’s return with grub.

Well, both the baby and Your Roving Reporter had a long wait for that reunion. And, when it finally happened, Mama flew over, food dangling from her beak, and in a split-second, she was near the nest, plunking food into the nestling’s mouth.

Mission accomplished, her baby fed, she pivoted to fly away, then saw me. Even though I was nowhere near the nest, probably a dozen feet away, seeking the wee sliver of shade that the building was now affording me, to Mama I was a potential predator. She thus flew to and positioned herself on the utility building’s roof as she scoped me out, giving me a side-eye glance, ringed by that white circle of feathers, …

… before she finally flew off, on another worm-and-grub-finding expedition, confident I was just a pesky photographer and not intent on stealing or harming her youngster.

The race ended, photos snapped, snacks grabbed and soon vehicles funneled out of Council Point Park’s parking lot. Mama had not yet returned and the sun was high in the sky, so I decided to leave and return Sunday morning and take a stroll in my favorite nature nook as well.

So, what was happenin’ early Sunday morning?

Here are some of those photos. I suspect the baby Robin was getting a stiff neck from this open-beak position, so it decided to just look for its Mama instead.

And then, when Mama was in its sight, it would open its beak accordingly.

I finished my long stroll around Council Point Park, taking a ton of photos and stopped at Chez Robin before I headed home. The sun was shining and the camera caught the fine peach fuzz on its head as I captured one more open-beak image.

Monday, Monday.

I returned Monday morning and now the chick’s whole head emerged over the nest. I was happy I now had a fairly up-close view of this baby, even though I could not peer inside as the nest was higher than eye level for me.

I awaited feeding time and was not disappointed as Mama would miraculously appear out of nowhere with grub for her little one. One time she returned with such a small morsel, it was swallowed in a second – that’s the best you could do Mama?

By Day #3, happily she acknowledged my presence, but went on about her business. I had finally gained her trust.

Tuesday, June 11th.

In the space of four days’ time, instead of the perpetual upturned beak, I was greeted with the baby Robin scowling at me. Yes Robins, even youngsters, have perfected that glare and sullen look if you’ve never noticed. It appeared its mouth was finally in proportion to its head instead of an oversized beak. I mused that those wispy feathers around its head just contributed to its “old-man-mad-at-the-world” appearance.

Then, when it perched on the side of the nest, I figured this was most likely the day it would fledge.

“I believe I can fly, I believe I can touch the sky.”

I walked at the Park, did some errands, then swung by the Park later that day to follow up on my hunch. Sure enough the nest was empty. It was the same the following day – my feathered friends had left me behind in the dust.

After they left I mused how I had missed the bulk of the nesting activity, but, as you can see below, the nest sat atop the chain link fence, up close to the barbed wires. (What was Mama Robin thinking??) I would have no reason to swivel my head that way upon entering the driveway to the parking lot, whether on foot, or in the car.

The nest is still there.

I am glad our paths crossed under the barbed wires.

I am grateful for the Robin family guiding me back onto the walking path with my camera in tow.

I am joining Terri Webster Schrandt’s July 21st Sunday Stills Photo Challenge: Wings.

I’ve blazed many new trails, (for me anyway), since I began my walking regimen in 2011. I started out slowly on Labor Day weekend 2011, walking one block in the ‘hood, then adding an extra block daily as time went on. Soon I was hooked on walking and bought a pedometer, some cushioned socks and a backup pair of walking shoes. But the following month, the later sunrise meant I had to curtail my steps to return home timely for work. Lucky for me the Winter of 2011 – 2012 was mild, (similar to our 2023 – 2024 Winter), so I was able to walk most of that season and early Spring.

After discovering Council Point Park in 2013, any neighborhood jaunts were solely to get to and from my favorite local nature nook and in 2017 when I began venturing to larger parks, my blog posts started groaning with nature photos.

Walking the walk, then talking about it ….

Through the years many fellow bloggers have remarked how lucky I am to have so many nearby parks.

Michigan’s moniker is “The Mitten State” for its unique mitten shape, but our “Pure Michigan” campaign boasts that we are known as “The Great Lakes State” because “you are never more than six miles away from water in Michigan, 85 miles away from a Great Lake and we have 20% of the world’s fresh water.”

So there are plenty of shoreline parks to go for a stroll.

Many are free like lovely Elizabeth Park, a county park where you can feel the breeze in your hair as you stroll the Boardwalk along the Detroit River, or the Humbug Marsh Unit of the Detroit International Wildlife Refuge where you can wander along a rustic trail in the 300-year-old Old Growth Forest and catch a glimpse of the last undeveloped mile of the Detroit River on the U.S. side.

For our state parks, we do pay a daily fee or buy a pass to enter, but you will get your money’s worth since we have 103 of them. I’ve only blogged about Sterling State Park in Monroe. Monroe also has one of our state’s six National Parks, the River Raisin National Battlefield Park. After I retired I told myself I would visit five new venues a year and this one was on my agenda. Time is zipping by and it is already July and I’ve visited only one new venue in 2024, in large part due to crummy weather and an overabundance of ticks and, that one new venue visited is where I brought home the hitchhiker (tick). Grrr!

Although there are 13 Metroparks with 400 miles of trails, since I bought my first yearly pass in 2018, I have only been to four Metroparks to date. By far, my favorite one is Lake Erie Metropark and that will be the topic of today’s post.

Our weather has been “no walk in the park” of late.

Having been sprung from the daily grind of working, I was excited how I would while away the hours walking and taking photos on beautiful Pure Michigan days.

Unfortunately, the weather has not been much to my liking, but then the 2024 weather everywhere has been nothing special has it? I don’t remember any time when we had as many windy days … oh sure, we had those March winds in that ditty we recited when we were kids. Only these gusty winds have been present all Spring and lingered into Summer as well. Strong winds and shoreline strolls are not a good combo. And the very heavy rain was not just the dregs of Beryl either. We have had days where it was torrential rain a good part of the day and it seems to me that every day rain or a storm have been in the forecast. Hit and miss rain isn’t great when you’re on a trail miles away from the car.

Seize the day!

So, on the rare days when the moon and stars align and you seemingly have a picture-perfect day you get out and make the most of it, right?

I have been to Lake Erie Metropark seven times so far this year. I know the Cherry Island Trail is a sure bet if we’ve not had rain for three or four days, but recent rain means I’m on the other side walking the Cove Point shoreline to the marina, which is where I was on May 7, 2024.

I stepped out of the car and realized the gentle breeze at my house was not what I was feeling here – it was windy here and oh look, the sun faded behind the clouds. Sigh.

It would be a day defined by wind and birds.

I craned my neck for my Sandhill Crane buddies, but they must have slept in. Maybe later I’d catch up with them – nope, they remained at large that trip.

The gray morning and gusty breezes were a pain and I soon realized in my zeal to get here for a long morning meander, I may have misjudged the impact of the last rainfall on the Cove Point walking path.

As you can see, ahead of me was a Canada Goose ankle deep in a puddle and not wearing galoshes.

Thankfully my walking soles have heavy soles, so I picked my way along the pathway, traversing a puddle here and there and finally decided if I was going to have wet shoes, I might as well just walk along the shoreline.

The water was choppy …

… and waves were crashing onto the rocks.

In my May 15th post, I showed some of the Tree Swallows that had overtaken Bluebird nesting boxes. These are a few more photos of them. Happily, a hesitant sun finally decided to brighten up my walk, but it was intermittent at best.

It amused me that these fairly small Tree Swallows were diligently parked on the rooftop of the boxes, but because the wind was clipping along, occasionally those Swallows would be swaying from side to side. This Swallow in particular seemed to say “look at me – I’m an airplane!” Or maybe it was airing out its armpits?

The wind didn’t agree with the Starling either as it ruffled its feathers, both literally and figuratively. It was wearing an angry, if not comical, look. A little feather gel was in order.

I was getting to the end of the walkable shoreline portion and saw dry asphalt ahead – yay, so I headed that way.

Intermittently, the sun would peek out of the clouds on this long asphalt path that would take me down to the marina, then along a marsh …

… all the way to where this park had built a platform for a pair of Ospreys to nest.

With any luck, they might be around.

To my left, the marina was a bit boring and blah – no one on their boats and only a handful of boats in their slips.

To my right, I scanned the marsh for goslings, but there were none. An Egret stood silently in the still-dry reeds.

In the marsh, the trill of Red-winged Blackbirds filled the air.  This is one of them.

I kept walking as I knew sooner or later I would reach the crossroads where the nest was located.  Before the pandemic, I took several Sea Grant boat excursions on Lake Erie and the sightseeing boat, the E/V Clinton, was docked here at the marina.  I remembered driving up that very long gravel road from West Jefferson.

Well there it was … the big nest, but it was empty. I stepped out into the road on either side of this huge nest and looked up, pointing at the nest with my camera – clearly the sun was not in my favor.

A bit disappointed after my long walk, I planned to wait for them.  I figured the occupants were likely out scouting for twigs as it was nesting season.  But I was wrong because suddenly a head popped out of the nest …

… and after a few chirps, the Osprey hopped out, perched on the pole and pondered life for a minute or so. Note the ruffled feathers, also needing a dab of feather gel.

Patiently I waited, looking around seeking some shade for picture-taking and myself as it was getting hot, when suddenly the Osprey lifted off – yikes, I missed its takeoff as suddenly it was airborne, gliding over me.

Osprey are nicknamed “Fish Hawks” for their aerial angling prowess as you see below.

It circled around, dipped into a wooded area and returned with a twig in its talons, same which went into nest.

This scenario happened several times, always with nesting materials, never a fish and I only saw one Osprey the entire half hour or so I was there. This is my final photo taken; again, no matter how I positioned myself, the background was pale. A big twig, a short hop onto the pole, then into the nest.

This outing, as mentioned above, was on May 7th. I’ve been on baby watch ever since. I have taken more/better photos of the pair, but no chicks. My last visit to see the nest was June 27th and they were still loading up on twigs.

I am joining Terri Webster Schrandt’s June 14^th Sunday Stills Photo Challenge:  Local and State Parks.