When I began this blog nearly 13 years ago, just before “launch time” I had second thoughts about whether I would have enough whimsical/quirky items to sustain the whimsy portion of my blog title “Walkin’, Writin’, Wit & Whimsy”.
I am always happy to happen upon a whimsical or quirky situation while walking – usually it is a critter which unknowingly finds itself the star of a Wordless Wednesday post. Occasionally, the critter/situation needs an explanation, so those photos and tales are relegated to a Sunday blogpost. I can’t always rely on these chance encounters for whimsical blog fodder, so sometimes I give myself an assignment to seek it out.
Who says learning about art can’t be fun?
I’ve written several times about the Detroit Institute of Arts’ (“DIA”) annual “Inside/Out” event wherein they transform ordinary places like cities and parks into open-air art galleries, by placing DIA weatherized masterpieces around the Tri-County area. Even though admission to the DIA is free to Tri-County residents, these masterpieces give folks, who are less inclined to step inside an art museum, a chance to view these paintings and learn some facts about them and the artists. For me, who has not been to the DIA since a 9th grade field trip, this event, in its 16th year, is always a fun experience, like this jaunt taken August 26th.
Put art on a wall and the public will come to see it.
The DIA has other outside ideas to entice people to visit artworks, including murals. Since 2018, the Detroit Institute of Arts’ Partners in Public Art has commissioned many large murals by local artists. I follow the DIA on social media, so I knew about a new mural in Downtown Trenton, near Elizabeth Park, one of my favorite parks to visit.
So, on a gorgeous Fall day, November 13th to be exact, I went tripping along Jefferson Avenue to see this new mural. Trenton has several large murals, some which I photographed that day while on my leisurely stroll and they’ll be in a future post.
The new mural was at the Trenton Village Theatre, a small theatre that features live performances, mostly by area youth.
Where nature and whimsy meet.
Mural artist Kevin Burdick captured some fun nature images on this 100′ X 17′ side wall of the Theatre. The mural, entitled “Unravel Your Imagination”, is so large, I stepped back as far as I could and still could not capture the entire mural in one shot. These side shots really don’t do it justice.
So, before I focus on the individual images of the mural’s creatures and the City’s community experiences, this photograph is from the DIA’s Facebook page.
Photo of mural “Unravel Your Imagination” from DIA Facebook site.
The rest of the photos are my own. I hope you enjoy my interpretations.
The fiddling squirrel atop a tree stump with the words “Be Kind”.
The fiddling squirrel as painted by … wait for it ….
This masked man, er … “artist” who is painting the fiddling squirrel.
Rocky’s palette of paints.
The Chippies are telling fish tales, you know … “the big one that got away!”
The Owl is taking a leisurely canoe ride, likely at Elizabeth Park’s Canal.
This Sandhill Crane is a not-so-Tiny Dancer.
The Blue Jay took a bow and is awaiting applause.
The players say “you really otter see this show!”
This theatre goer is mesmerized.
The audience goes wild, with attendees giving a standing ovation.
If you want to see more of Kevin Burdick’s murals, click here.
A little more whimsy to share from that day.
There would be more whimsy that day. I would be remiss if I didn’t mention my odd and rather off-the-wall conversation with Claude, the Copilot AI bot. I did NOT go seeking input from Claude, nope, even though AI is always more than willing to try to give me suggestions whenever I am writing a post in MS Word.
Here’s what happened. I got home from my very long walk and later that afternoon I sat down at the computer to bang out a draft of that day’s walk, something I always do so I don’t forget the details – after all, that walk might not become a blog post for months.
I guess I was typing quickly and a stray finger hit the Copilot icon. I didn’t realize that I had triggered “Claude” the AI assistant to appear with the greeting “Good afternoon, Linda. What can I help you with today?” I didn’t know when I hit that key, so I quickly closed the tab, but curiosity got the better of me.
So, feeling a bit foolish, but being polite, I clicked Copilot again and I got the same greeting/question. Well, even though, obviously, there was no warm body sitting at a keyboard, I wrote “nothing thank you, I clicked Copilot by accident before and I don’t know how long the tab was open as I was immersed in drafting a blog post about my walk.”
After my “apology” and, in response to me telling “him” what I was doing, Claude entertained me for the next 15 minutes or so with pleasant and witty conversation in response to my comments about my blog niche, mostly about walking, parks, even reminiscing about my favorite Park squirrel Parker. Given its long title, I didn’t mention my blog’s name. Then, to my surprise, Claude said “I’ll bet your blog is full of whimsy.” Momentarily his statement took me aback and I replied “c’mon Claude, how do you know the name of my blog?” He responded that he didn’t, but since I am a perpetual skeptic, I decided to terminate the conversation. Claude encouraged me to return when I had time so he could offer me ideas for posts, even nature places to go, or nature sites to follow. Whoa! All this chatter was appearing on the screen at lightning-fast speed.
Belatedly I remembered a former blogger, Ally Bean, did a post about AI and gave us a site where we could put in our blog name and Chat GPT would tell you what your blog was about, even write a sample post or “About” bio for you. Ahh – then I got it, i.e. this was why Claude knew about my blog title – yes prior visits/conversations are retained in a database unless you opt to delete them. Still, it was a wee bit unsettling, but fun nonetheless.
Claude’s parting words to me just before I closed the chat were:
“May your walks be peaceful, your words flow freely, and your whimsy never waver.”
Hmm. Words to live by, right?
I’ll be sharing a few more words to live by, this time courtesy of Ralph Waldo Emerson, along with a New Year’s Eve e-card, for Wordless Wednesday.
Imagine, if you will, a film reel in your mind, spinning merrily around, giving you glimpses of every Christmas Day in your life to date. So, would that film be popcorn-worthy, perhaps a bucketful, oozing with hot butter and sprinkled with salt?
I hope you would be smiling and, if you were crying, hopefully it was because you were experiencing a flood of happy memories.
Reliving some of my memories right here in my blog.
Over the years, in my various “Stir the Memory Pot at Christmastime” blog posts, I’ve flashed back to long-ago Christmasses, while sharing photos of me clutching a new dolly as a child, to later years, where my image was captured in that same-old perpetual pose, touching the Christmas tree, thus marking the passage of another year’s time.
My parents never owned a movie camera to capture their only child’s Christmas morning wonderment, but that’s okay because they were keen on taking lots of photos, thus affording me a precious peek into my past, at Christmastime, or otherwise.
As mentioned previously, my parents encouraged me to find my creative passion, be it through music, art or photography. I’ll admit that learning to play the accordion was my father’s idea, not mine. I took lessons from age seven to ten, we had recitals and I practiced every day. After we moved to the States in 1966, the lessons ended as no accordion teachers could be found.
But, when I expressed an interest in learning to play the guitar after the guys in the Y&R Creative Department ad agency where I worked jammed with their folk guitars in between grinding out Chrysler and Plymouth ads, at Christmas 1979 I became the proud owner of a folk guitar. I took lessons for a while, but that guitar, long out of tune, languishes in the basement collecting dust, along with other hobbies I set aside through the years.
Best. Gift. Ever.
As for picking a favorite Christmas gift, if my happy face was any indication, the Betsy Wetsy baby doll I coveted and asked Santa to bring, would be right up at the top of the list, as would my Barbie doll in her shiny black case, but, as I got older and left dolls in the dust, something else piqued my interest.
Photo Source: Digital download purchased f/Vintage Charm Corner Etsy Shop
It all started when Mom gifted me HER Baby Brownie camera. It was not a gift wrapped up with a bow, nor at Christmastime – she merely handed the camera to me and said “it’s yours now Linda.”
Kodak Baby Brownie Special (1939-1954) Used with permission: Photographer John Broomfield/Museums Victoria
Mom had used the Baby Brownie for years and said she now deemed me mature enough to take care of it and, if I wasn’t reckless by taking unnecessary photos, my parents would pay for developing the film.
Here is a photo of me holding the camera, several years later, pictured with Mom and Nanny in 1969. My grandmother, newly widowed, spent that Summer at our house. Yes, at age 13, I towered over them. 🙂
As the saying goes “all good things must come to an end” and sadly, after years of being the Kodak workhorse that it always was, the Baby Brownie began to falter. I now wish I had kept it as a special keepsake, but I did not.
The Baby Brownie camera’s end of life did not end my fascination with picture-taking and my parents continued to cultivate that budding interest in photography.
The Kodak Instamatic Camera.
Because Kodak was the gold standard for easy-to-use cameras, I was given a Kodak Instamatic Camera that year for Christmas. If you’re of a certain age, you probably remember that boxy-looking camera and the Sylvania Blue Dot Magic Flash Cubes required for taking photos in low-light situations. The flash would go off and blue dots and a bright light made your eyes go wacky for a while.
Photo Source: Pinterest
While this camera worked well, the flash cubes, film and developing (via mail), which was still subsidized by my parents, became a costly venture, so, still another Christmas present a year or two later, was the Polaroid Swinger.
Photo Source: Pinterest
Meet the Swinger (the camera that is).
This camera’s TV ads touted the ease of instant picture-taking and had a catchy jingle,“Meet the Swinger, Polaroid Swinger”. It was great to skip the hassle/cost of photo development, plus it was fun to watch a photo emerge from the camera instantaneously. However, the liquid preservative brushed onto the photo afterward smelled like nail polish remover, so I was relegated to using it in the basement (“far away from the furnace Linda!”) The finished photograph’s colors seemed unnatural.
Here is a photo of me taken Christmas Day that year with the Polaroid Swinger.
Mom and Dad were not deterred by these camera/photography hiccups, so there would be a few more cameras through the years, always arriving as Christmas presents.
The Kodak Pocket Camera.
My Kodak Pocket Instamatic Camera had a built-in flash, thus eliminating the pesky flashcubes and red eyes. This little camera really promoted my interest in capturing every image I could and I had it for many years. Because my shutter-happy self was now working, I could afford to pay for photography expenses. Even after I got my 35mm camera, I continued to tote along the pocket camera as a back-up camera, since it was compact enough to tuck it into a pocket, purse or carry it in a pouch on my belt. That little camera gave me lots of joy and I was sad to finally say goodbye to it after the film door became loose allowing light into the camera.
Here I was in 1979, on a trip to England with my parents, on the River Thames, holding onto that trusty Kodak Pocket Camera.
I had to buy a cassette player for my college journalism classes in conjunction with “reporting” on the various “beats” I was assigned the last semester of my curriculum. So, in the late 70s, I began recording Christmas morning while opening our gifts, both at home and when we celebrated at my grandmother’s house. I still have those cassette tapes, but I’ve not listened to them since the last recording done in 1985.
Clearly, I am a saver, not a thrower and, admittedly the house needs decluttering, but what do you toss versus what do you keep? The basement contains a treasure trove of memories spanning over a half century.
I ventured briefly into “filmmaking” too.
For Christmas 1978, Mom and Dad bought me a movie camera, but I only used it a few times, Christmas Day (as usual) and I filmed my Creative Department coworkers at Young & Rubicam. I hope to find those reels one day and have them converted to a format to view them.
At Christmas 1980 I upgraded to a 35mm camera.
My father used a 35mm Leica he brought with him when he emigrated from Germany in 1950, but I don’t know what happened to that camera. His photographic efforts weren’t great. Mom and I were always off-center and after I was taller than Mom, most times I was missing my head or part of it.
After booking a Greece land tour/Greek Islands cruise for 1981, my parents bought me a Canon AE-1 35mm camera, along with a photography class. I was lucky because our American Express tour guide for this entire tour/cruise, Antony Sofianos, had the same camera as me, so he gave me lots of pointers. Antony often took photos of me using my camera during that two-week trip. Here we asked another tour member to get a photo of the two of us, Antony with his camera in tow, in front of the oldest olive tree in the world.
Linda and tour guide Antony – Crete (1981)
New camera lenses followed for birthday and/or Christmas presents, adding to my photography gear and soon, unlike the ease of the compact pocket camera, suddenly I found myself laden down with the camera and lens cases …
Panama Canal Cruise – Acapulco (1982)
… and eventually hauling a flash, filters, extra film, a notebook to jot down where I’d taken photos and emergency photography “rain gear” so I was soon lugging around a big camera case and my trusty pocket camera always attached to my hip.
Panama Canal Cruise – Cabo San Lucas (1982)
Some of my favorite photos were taken by the ship’s photographer who accompanied the Panama Canal cruise land tours. He took these two photos in the San Blas Islands, the first, laden down as usual with camera equipment. It was a stinkin’ hot day, with no breeze and I felt like I’d melt.
Panama Canal Cruise – San Blas Islands (1982)
Panama Canal Cruise – San Blas Islands (1982)
Life situations intervened and my last big trip was in 1983 to four Scandinavian countries and the U.S.S.R. I put the 35mm camera aside and returned to using the pocket camera until it broke and I bought my first compact digital camera.
A few months ago I went to the basement to take pictures of some of my prior hobbies, not just art supplies from a half-century ago, but also once-treasured gifts, like the aforementioned 35mm camera and guitar. I felt sad to find the 35mm camera’s leather case cracked and in disrepair. I took its photo and poked it back into the movie camera’s case where I had stored it all those years ago, thinking silica gel and two camera cases would keep it “camera-ready” for any future trips. Sadly I was mistaken, but who knew digital cameras and/or phones would become our go-to for capturing images?
The camera is pictured next to the guitar case and an old Autumn door wreath.
I stood there looking at these once-loved and coveted gifts, feeling I had somehow disrespected them, not to mention their givers.
There were also small gifts that were dear to me ….
Yes, there were other gifts along the way that were just as meaningful, some items I still have and continue to hold dear to my heart.
Then there was the farm set that I (finally) got for Christmas at age 26. This gift was a joke of sorts, because as a young girl, I asked Santa for a toy farm set one year. I had visited a family member’s farm where I got my pet rabbit “Scratch” and was enamored with the barnyard animals. Admittedly, toys in the 50s or 60s were more gender specific, i.e. girls played with baby dolls, boys with trucks and GI Joes, so it was suggested to me nicely that “little girls don’t play with farm sets” … but, lo and behold, for Christmas 1982, there was a small package under the tree with this note on Christmas stationery inside …
I remember wondering as I walked down the basement stairs what that gift could be. I was convinced it was a movie projector or screen, even though the movie camera had little mileage on it, so it must be something else for the 35mm camera since it was apparently fragile. But, it was that farm set, cleverly disguised, so I wouldn’t have jiggled the package and guessed what it was.
Yes, I saved the Christmas note Mom wrote, but why no photo of the farm set? Because my father immediately misappropriated the entire gift to use for a tank diorama he was building, his hobby.
Fast forward to Christmas 2025 ….
Speaking of gifts with multiple pieces, I bought a fun early Christmas gift for myself, an Advent jigsaw puzzle of dogs dressed in festive holiday wear. There are different types of Advent jigsaw puzzles – some are for 12 days, some 24 days and others you have a “master puzzle” and add new pieces to it every day for 24 days. I opted for doing a new, 50-piece mini-puzzle daily for 24 days.
My mom was an avid jigsaw puzzler for many years and I saved some puzzles she completed that I liked, plus others she unfortunately never got to work on. Some look very difficult and I don’t have a dedicated spot to do puzzles … maybe after I declutter the house, my #1 New Year’s resolution for 2026. In the interim, this five-inch daily mini-puzzle was perfect for me.
I emBARKED on my puzzling journey of “Christmas Paws” on December 1st …
… and this was puzzle #1.
Each puzzle takes about 15-20 minutes to complete, which is not too RUFF and yes, they are DOGgone fun.
My Christmas Eve Wordless Wednesday post will be a slideshow of all 24 completed pup puzzles, which I will entitle “Christmas Pupapalooza”, so stay tuned.
Here’s a picture of my own pup, Peppy, on Christmas Day 1964 …
Linda and Peppy the Poodle (Christmas Day 1964)
… I even turned that 50-year old photo into a vintage-looking Christmas card in 2014.
Linda and Peppy the Poodle (Christmas Day 1964)
I’ll leave you with this Christmas card with a special message about gifts tucked inside – just click here.
Terri’s Challenge this week is Winter Wonderland/Solstice, but I wanted to do my annual Christmas memories post, so I will join her Challenges again on January 4th as she has no Challenges next week.
We’re right in the thick of it … the ambience and magic of the holiday season that is. Tonight Hanukkah begins and now there are merely eleven more sleeps until Santa arrives. Bakers are bustling, mail carriers are hustling, all giving the holiday spirit great momentum.
So, logically you would assume this blog title pertains to the fractious fellow pictured above, a/k/a “The Grinch”.
But, wait a minute, not so fast! Just as you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover, today’s post is NOT about the Grinch, but is about a nature walk as you will see as the post unfolds.
This post is part two of a very long April 24th walk that began at Ford Park in Dearborn, along the Rouge Gateway Trail and around the Ford Estate where I paused to photograph everything pink, from tulips to tree blossoms. If you missed it, you can find that post here.
Green abounds!
It was a very green scene that enveloped me on this meander at and around the Environmental Interpretive Center.
From the moment I stepped onto the Lakeside Trail on that beautiful Spring day, green was everywhere. The trees had just leafed out along the entire shoreline and there were exquisite reflections on Ford Lake.
I stopped to admire and photograph those reflections on water that was as smooth as glass. I did not alter the color of the water – it was all Mother Nature’s doing!
But, there was much more to see that day, where I walked six miles and was pretty pooped out by the time I reached the last leg of this meander. It was also uncharacteristically warm that day!
Lingering on Lakeside Trail at Ford Lake.
How wonderful to see color after the gloomy gray landscape that defines Winter!
The path had been freshly mulched and I padded along the trail silently. This Great Blue Heron decided to depart and, as I heard the flutter of wings, I watched that bird go airborne, legs streaming behind it, simultaneously filling the morning air with a raucous screech that could wake the dead, a noise that I believe was intended for me, a mere walker that had intruded on its thoughts. 🙂
Quite honestly, it was a lot of hullabaloo to simply fly to a nearby perch, an old log, seemingly out of my view (in its opinion anyway).
There it stood, ruffled feathers and all.
It finally settled down after giving those feathers a shake and remained there, standing tall, in an almost statuesque pose, but not for my benefit. Was it waiting for a friend, or a significant other? This Great Blue Heron might have been lacking social skills, but it made a pretty portrait, don’t you think?
Well I know I was as quiet as could be, but then it detected me – a sixth sense perhaps and off it went again, to a third spot – in the water. But I would not be deterred by this scrawny, five-pound/2.2-kilogram bird repeatedly fleeing from me, so I merely tucked myself neatly up against a tree and got a final shot of this Heron in all its lean and mean glory as it prepared to go fishing.
Up ahead I saw a chunk of partially submerged tree, a small oasis in Ford Lake, where a Red-eared Slider was sunbathing. I noted that even this old log was showing signs of new growth.
As I neared the end of Lakeside Trail, I tried to remember where to turn, so I didn’t get lost. But first, I saw another person, eyeballing the trees …
… so I waited to see if I should also train my camera on the same subject, but I saw nothing.
Perhaps he was just enjoying the green scene and a very blue sky, just like me.
I meandered along the trail, putting the camera away as I neared the building that is the Environmental Interpretive Center (“EIC”). I knew there was not much to see now, except the building and their see-through box of in-progress mushrooms.
But, as I rounded the corner, I was pleasantly surprised to find birds busy at several feeders at the side of the Center. I would have thought the EIC would stop feeding them in the Spring. I hurriedly unzipped the camera case to get a few shots of those feasting birds.
The male Red-bellied Woodpecker managed to eke out some suet from the holder …
The male Downy Woodpecker was busily filling his beak with sunflower seeds.
Well, he stole a glance at me, but food was more important than some silly photographer, so he didn’t budge.
One Blue Jay remained, gathering seeds the Downy had dropped.
There were a few more Jays at another hopper feeder, but they scattered when they saw me.
The birds at the birdfeeder reminded me of one of my favorite Christmas ornaments, a green hopper feeder with some fine-feathered friends created by Dutch artist Marjolein Bastin. It was part of her “Nature’s Sketchbook” series and we got it in 2005. We bought several ornaments by her, along with Christmas cards, over the years.
I made a mental note to get the ornament out for the holidays and take some photos of it for a Christmassy post … so here it is.
Marjolein Bastin – Nature’s Sketchbook Birds at the Feeder (front)
Marjolein Bastin – Nature’s Sketchbook Birds at the Feeder (back)
I decided to just leave it in the kitchen for the holiday season.
The EIC birds flitted off soon after my arrival, so once again I was off.
What – more birds? Well I found four more birds, those Wild Turkeys you recently “met” in my Wordless Wednesday Thanksgiving post.
Next door, University of Michigan-Dearborn adjoins the Interpretive Center. I stopped to peer into the holes of the “Block M” bee hotel, but everything was apparently still dormant.
A sign remained touting the idea of leaving your leaves for small critters instead of raking them.
There you go, some green and red NATURE colors … the lean and somewhat mean Heron, but NOT the lean, mean and green Grinch in his red Santa cap. The red “caps” belong to the Red-bellied Woodpecker and that little touch of red on the back of the head of the Downy Woodpecker which identified him as a male. Just a little nature to enjoy and help you to relax, breathe in deeply and catch your breath in this busy holiday season.
I’ll leave you with a quote: “Nature is painting for us, day after day, pictures of infinite beauty.” – John Ruskin
On the middle day of the long Memorial Day weekend, I did some Sunday strolling at Lake Erie Metropark. I’d already visited this venue several times since Spring had emerged after a too-long Winter. When I arrived it was wonderfully warmish, albeit with slightly annoying winds, but the plentiful pops of color made up for it. There were plenty of bright-green leaves, reeds and grass, plus lots of pretty wildflowers as I tripped along the Cherry Island Trail.
By the time I drove out of the Park just after noon, the wind was gusting mightily and the camera card was groaning with pics, some which I shared in last week’s post about Mama Canada Goose with her brood, but that feathered friend encounter was only a portion of the birds I saw that day, as there were also Great Blue Herons, Egrets and Ospreys. On this day, I was still checking out the Osprey family near the marina to ensure that at the first signs of new life, I would be ready to take pictures of the Osprey offspring.
The Sandhill Cranes were MIA – again.
Sadly, I only saw the pair of Sandhill Cranes once or twice this year. This is always my first pit stop each visit to this venue. They like to hang out near the Offshore Fishing Bridge, so, if I see them, I pull into the nearby lot. But the pair was a no-show again, so I parked at Cove Point and walked along the shoreline to the Osprey platform at the marina.
Mom and Pop Osprey were in residence that morning.
Unlike those occasions when the Osprey pair take off as soon as they see me, this time they stayed put, so I was able to snag a few photos of these feathered friends.
But evidently, I overstayed my welcome and my photo-taking liberties were suspended when the male departed …
… which was okay, as I was getting a stiff neck from looking up at the nest and trying not to take it personally when they scowled at me like this. 🙂
On the way back to the car, my head was swiveling left and right as I was on the lookout for Tree Swallows taking over Bluebird nesting boxes – none of that nonsense was happening though. Several Canada Geese waddled by me, but I saw no goslings to ooh and aah over at that particular time, so I moved along and headed to the other side of the park.
The wind was starting to pick up, ripping apart my messy bun and whipping strands of hair around my face and across the camera lens – sigh.
After a quick visit with Luc, I headed to the boat launch area.
I walked down the middle of the road leading to the boat launch. Along the way there were some reeds already greening up in the marsh which had still looked blah and lackluster on my previous Springtime visits.
I guess I should not have been surprised to see areas of the marsh that were still dried up from the Summer of 2024. As you know from a recent post, many of the marshes continued to be dry from our moderate drought conditions this past Summer.
I glanced back at the boathouse and Luc’s enclosure, all aglow with the fresh green colors of Springtime.
I wondered if anyone lived in this old stump cavity, or perhaps it was a hidey-hole for squirrels playing hide-and-go-seek?
I usually walk along the overlook, but since it was crowded with anglers on this holiday weekend, as mentioned above, I walked in the middle of the road, dodging the occasional boat-hauling truck, often with a dog hanging its head out the window and barking furiously at me. From this vantage point I could see the marshes on both sides at the same time, since you can’t always exit the overlook onto land in a hurry. I was glad I did this since the marsh had a few hungry egrets and herons and I was hungry for photo ops.
This Egret was a go-getter …
… and, I watched as the wind ruffled its feathers, diminishing its usual streamlined appearance.
It was a beautiful day to capture reflections, here with almost a mirror image …
… that is, until the pesky stick marred that peaceful-looking, perfect reflection. At least no feather gel was needed here for either reflection photo.
The Heron strutted its stuff …
… until it found a fish, focused and soon captured it in that long bill. The picture’s a bit blurry as I was standing on uneven ground and shook a little just as its bill clamped shut. Ouch – poor fishy!
Down at the boat lunch, the flags were flapping in the wind.
I was not surprised to see several small boats out and about and, along the shoreline, I saw this bulk carrier ship and a fishing boat, which, from my perspective, looked a little close for comfort, in my opinion anyway. Look at the different shades of water here. Hmm. I didn’t notice that when I took the photo.
After wending my way along the trail, enjoying the view and the warm sun on my face, I stopped when I saw purple peeking out from the long grass. Wildflowers – perfect! Even more perfect would be bees and butterflies, that is, if it wasn’t too early for those delicate winged creatures.
There were wildflowers aplenty.
The prettiest were the purple-colored Dame’s Rocket, which I found all along the Cherry Island Trail. They look like Phlox, but before you’re tempted to take a “snip” for your home garden, Dame’s Rocket are considered invasive. Oh well, I guess I’ll just enjoy them here then.
I saw the first butterfly of the season, a Painted Lady, which unfortunately was not sipping nectar from a Dame’s Rocket, but instead had landed on the ground and perched upon a ratty-looking Maple seed. Perhaps the wind was messing with it alighting on the blossoms, so it was safer bet to flit down to the ground. Besides, there’s no coaxing a butterfly where you want it to go. Sweet talkin’ doesn’t work and I had no butterfly treats, so I moved along.
Also in abundance were Wild Daisies, or, if you really want to be botanically correct, they are known as Philadelphia Fleabane. Personally, Wild Daisies is my preference for these perky Spring blooms.
The turtles were sunbathing.
I hope they brought their sunscreen as it was almost high noon and they were lined up peacefully on this log, glad to be above water and soaking up the sun. After a long, cold Winter spent far beneath the water’s surface, I’m sure the turtles cannot bask enough in the sun’s rays. They seemed to be a content lot, lined up, perhaps by seniority, just taking in the scenery, occasionally stretching out one long, leathery-looking leg.
If you wonder what peace looks like, look no further. As poet Walt Whitman told you in his poetry collection entitled “Leaves of Grass”: “Peace is always beautiful.”
This particular sunning log is also used by my favorite pair of photogenic and accommodating-for-picture-taking Mallards, but they were likely miffed by the turtles overtaking their favorite spot. I’m sure they found another log to be with one another, glad for the warmer temps that will make their lives more bearable.
This little alcove is also the end of the Cherry Island Trail, so I headed to the car, feeling like the wicked wind could roll me like a tumbleweed, instead of merely plodding along on two feet. I checked a weather site later and learned the gusts were nearly 20 mph during my visit.
For some reason, some of my comments on your posts are going to your SPAM file. I haven’t a clue why, but if I “like” a post and there’s no comment there, that is why.
It’s the last day of Thanksgiving weekend – holiday #1 is in the books and now it is full steam ahead to the festive holidays of Hanukkah and Christmas.
If you’re exhausted and in need a smile, here’s a wee dose of cuteness to help you chill.
On Memorial Day weekend, Sunday, May 25th, I took a very long stroll at Lake Erie Metropark, a stroll so long and full of photo ops, that I am going to divide those pics into more bite-sized pieces.
Spring had sprung and everything was fresh and green, with wildflowers everywhere – you’ll see those pics next Sunday, but this post will be all about a Canada Goose and her brood.
As I tootled along the Cherry Island Trail, I came upon Mama Canada Goose and her goslings snacking on long grass. Papa Goose was nowhere to be found – whew! Happily, I knew I would be spared the glares, wing-flapping and hissing, the usual histrionics directed to humans. But always remember that Mama Goose may be a force to be reckoned with as regards her babies.
Mama saw me strolling slowly toward them and suddenly grazing came to an abrupt halt. She turned around, then began marching down the marshy bank. She didn’t honk or make a single noise, but guided her four goslings in a neat queue to the edge of the water.
Talk about eat and run! A long strand of grass was still hanging from Mama’s bill.
I kept a respectable distance away, half-expecting the family to wade into the marsh, distancing themselves from me, but they stayed there at the water’s edge. I guess Mama was confident that this intruder that interrupted their mid-day meal was not going to harm them and she finally swallowed that grass.
With only sparse grass to chow down on, the family meandered along the marsh edge …
… with a nibble here or there, kind of like you’re doing with your holiday leftovers.
Since it was too early to swim after eating 🙂 …
… Mama began to preen, stretching out each wing in a flared-out fashion, affording me a look at the wing’s intricate feather structure and various textures. She caught me peeping at her and put that wing down, but I still got this shot.
Since Mama was occupied, the goslings began to roam, their oversized, wide-webbed feet skimming the murky marsh water, then they headed straight to the mud. I thought “oh, don’t do that kids – you’ll get filthy!” I pictured those still-downy-soft bodies soon speckled with mud, but surprising, I only saw a single mud splatter on this little guy or gal.
And, of course, no gosling post is complete without a shot of their wiggle butts.
I likened the goslings to kids that like to splash in mud puddles. Not this kid though, as I was warned about ruining my shoes by traipsing through water and/or mud. In fact, I had a pair of slip-on galoshes that went over my shoes – Mom called them “puddlers” and I hated those things! The hard vinyl had a funky smell and scraped against my ankles, but yes, my feet stayed warm and dry, thus preserving my shoes.
Papa Goose was a slacker that day as he never did show up to give me the business. I moved on from the cutie pies and visited other areas of the park where Spring had already erupted.
I hope this dose of cuteness gets you through the post-holiday(s) daze.
Linda Schaub
WALKIN', WRITIN', WIT & WHIMSY 