I like beginning the day with my mind a blank canvas and that’s been my mindset since Day One of my walking regimen, especially at Council Point Park. I enjoy walking alone, but because of the ongoing “project” at my favorite nature nook, I’ve walked alongside and/or spoken to more walkers in the past month than the eleven years I’ve walked there. Those conversations revolve around our disgust over the destruction, or for me, to gain insight into what transpired after I departed for the day.
On April 15th, the morning dawned bright and sunny, so I decided to make it a “Parksapalooza Day” with a goal to fill up the camera card with images from four different parks. I began with Council Point Park where, at that time, the project would not begin for three more weeks.
On my one-mile trek along the perimeter path, just as I passed the cement ledge, I saw a Black-crowned Night Heron, not a rare bird in SE Michigan, but a species I’ve only seen one other time in over a decade of walking at this venue. The Heron was poised on the edge of the ledge, bill immersed in the Creek and likely about to snag a shad for breakfast.
Immediately I shifted my bag of peanuts and seeds to the crook of my elbow, then dug out my digital compact camera from its case that was hooked onto my fanny pack. I had just lined up my shot when another walker pointed to the ledge and loudly called out “hey Linda, what’s that bird?” Torn between being rude and simply ignoring the question versus getting my shot, I responded “a Black-crowned Night Heron” and, just as I spoke, the Heron lifted off the ledge with a raucous-sounding squawk. Admittedly, I’m glad Mom raised me right so that I “speak when spoken to” but good etiquette made for a missed shot that morning. Sigh.
I put the camera back in its case and finished off my walk, happy that the geese were not around to pilfer peanuts or seeds that I had put out for my furry and feathered friends.
There would be three more parks on my agenda that day.
The next stop, was 15 miles later at Lake Erie Metropark where I parked near the Offshore Fishing Bridge.
It was the first time I’d been back here since that cold, icy February 4th day where I witnessed the attack of one Mute Swan by two of its brethren. I hoped it would be a quieter scene today and, because I was still smarting over that missed Heron shot, perhaps I’d fare better here since I’d seen the Sandhill Crane pair every single time I parked here in 2023 and on February 4th.
Happily, I was rewarded moments after my arrival … so this spot was my lucky charm! Well sort of – only one Crane was present. Where was its mate?
I headed to the marsh as close as I dared, not only treading carefully due to ticks, but also to avoid spooking the Crane. I figured this was the male and the female was likely sitting on a nest, perhaps on the little “island” which is an area I can’t see nor photograph well.
The Crane, evidently oblivious to me, poked and prodded under a few sticks at the water’s edge, then proceeded into the water where its gaze was focused on fish.
It stood there, studying the water, but since no fish materialized, it moved on, those very long legs taking measured steps to find some breakfast.
I was very quiet, but it eventually saw me lurking nearby and bolted …
… across the marsh to its personal tiny island where it was staring me down …
… while blending into the background.
The Crane remained motionless so I said “okay, bud – have it your way. I’m off to walk and maybe when I come back I’ll see your mate too.”
I climbed back up the hill, did a tick-check for any hitchhikers, then moseyed across the street to the other side of the fishing bridge where the marsh was equally as drab with bare trees and lifeless brown reeds – it could hardly be called picturesque.
No one was fishing off the bridge on this side either. Nor was there a single soul walking along Cove Point. It appeared I was all alone and it was devoid of noise, so bring on the birds, maybe even a deer or two on this peaceful morning!
I walked along the vehicle road and saw a flash of white. A beautiful male Mute Swan was motionless, posing just for me. What a pretty sight to behold!
You can tell it was a male (a/k/a a “cob”) from the black knob above its bill. Look at the graceful arch of its neck.
I stood mesmerized by its beauty and wondered how long before he saw me and paddled away?
Preening … but will it get rid of that pesky “ring around the collar?”
The swan took its good ol’ sweet time with preening ritual contortions that rivaled yoga moves and took about 20 minutes to complete. You’ll see some of the photos in this slideshow below.
Finally he was satisfied he passed muster and never acknowledged my presence while staying embedded in the reeds.
Next I headed to the overlook …
… knowing full well that it was way too early for the Barn Swallows, but maybe due to El Niño they returned early? Nope, still MIA.
Way across the marsh I saw the Mute Swan I had just been admiring was paddling around.
The Phragmites were swaying a bit …
… near this fungi-riddled tree.
Thankfully the small patches of violets and dandelions perked up the otherwise blah landscape.
I walked along Cove Point figuring it was a little early for goslings. I will always stop for an oohing-and-aahing session when I see goslings or ducklings.
I only saw one goose which enhanced this post about a solitary soul and her glimpses of solitary birds. The goose saw me, stopped in mid-waddle and plopped down.
It’s unusual there were not more geese roaming about this park, but it was nesting season after all; they were hunkered down on nests, their mates hovering nearby.
I returned to the car and continued on to my next two destinations, both which will be topics for other blog posts.
I will be joining Terri Webster Schrandt’s Sunday Stills Monthly Color Challenge: Pastels this Wednesday where I hope to wow you with the Botanical Gardens’ pink Springtime flowers and flowering trees.


































































































































































