WALKIN', WRITIN', WIT & WHIMSY

Ahhhh, breathe in deep and experience the sweet smell of lilacs in May. I imagine it must be just heavenly at the annual Lilac Festival at Mackinac Island. During today’s walk it seemed that every corner lot I passed lilac bushes were laden with bloom-filled branches that spilled over the chain-link fence – there were huge aromatic dark blooms and the more common lightly scented lavender type too. So, on a variation of the old adage of ‘taking time to stop and smell the roses’, I stopped several times to breathe in deep (hoping all the while no bee was hiding and went up my nose). What a heady experience inhaling Mother Nature’s own potpourri mixture. I must go out in my own backyard and sniff the Schaub lilacs which at nearly fifty years old continue to bloom profusely every Spring, despite a few bouts of powdery mildew. Today Mother Nature gets an “A” in art class because she surely was busy with her paintbrush adorning our City with an array of every shade of pink on the palette of gorgeous azaleas. I am inspired by their beauty, though I’ve never tried to grow them. The birds were twittering and trilling their melodic songs as if they, too, were inspired by the beautiful Spring offerings. So while plodding along on my promenade I did a thumbs up to God for his grandeur plus made sure to count my blessings on how good it feels to be alive and possess the ability to see, hear and smell on this beautiful and peaceful morn. So, words to the wise …
Don’t hurry.
Don’t worry.
You’re only here for a short visit.
So don’t forget to stop and smell the roses.
-Walter Hagen

Michigan weather this week is definitely bi-polar. Monday at 8:00 a.m. when I went outside to take the blanket off my Dwarf Japanese Weeping Maple it was a frosty 32 degrees. Teeth chattering and hands freezing, I went back to don a coat on top of my sweat suit and sweatshirt cardigan and grab a pair of gloves. A mere 48 hours later, I embarked on today’s walk wearing a lightweight sweat suit with a tank top underneath, thinking that even at 65 degrees I might be chilly. Two blocks into the walk, I removed the sweatshirt and wrapped it around my waist and walked in a tank top and I still was warmish! I wished I had shorts on. I could not help but think that the two nearly life-sized Michelangelo’s David statues on Emmons Street were more appropriately dressed for this hot and humid morn than me. Actually, I believe one statue is the famous David statue and the other looks to be a knock-off … an imposter, of all things and he is striking a reverse pose. I’ve never strayed to the opposite side of the street to peruse the statuary up close; I’m afraid someone might think I was a kook or a voyeur. Nonetheless, two anatomically correct statues are coyly glancing at one another from opposite ends of the homeowner’s porch. Really people?!?! Wouldn’t a concrete goose adorned with current-holiday duds be more appropriate? Just sayin’. At any rate, I did my walk to “The Dot” which was 2 ¼ miles round-trip on what felt like a mid-July morning. A lot of dandelions have gone to seed and the brisk wind was whipping around, whisking fragile blossoms right off flowering trees like crabapple, cherry, apple, dogwood and magnolia, just cutting their picturesque blooming time and beauty in half. The past few days even wreaked havoc on the durable tulips scattering their petals to the wind as well.
 

Earlier today I was out and about with a bout of repeated sneezing that actually took my breath away.  I decided to walk to the Lincoln Park Post Office to mail some cards – mind you, I could have gone to the end of the street to post mail, but I like a destination and want to boost my daily miles to at least 2 ½- 3 so the longer trips don’t give me shin splints and wear me out so much.  All that rainfall we had a few weeks ago has soaked into the ground and now we need rain and will get it the next two afternoons and Friday morning.  Hopefully that will tamp down some of this pollen that is flying around and making me miserable plus I have a fogged-up head (more than usual) (grin).  I wonder why I stay on the regimen of allergy shots for over a decade, plus on Alavert for feeling like I did before I started for goodness sake??  On my travels along Fort Street today I noticed that the abandoned bike (or I should say remaining part of a bike) is now gone.  The sleuthing side of me says its owner never returned and the scrappers came and broke the chain and got their lunch money with the dilapidated bicycle.  If the owner came back hoping to ride home, he was in for a rude awakening.  Notwithstanding the sneezing, I got in a nice walk – 2.8 miles by the time I came home; a solid hour of walking.  I indulged in chocolate milk which is my reward every time I walk and by the time I returned my early a.m. breakfast was in my toes so now I have to eat again. 

Linda’s terminology for the first really warm Spring day when you realize you left the house with too many clothes on and have to shed some of them. I rode the bus for decades and I was never without my hat and gloves, and often boots, from October 15th through April 15th. I always welcomed the ritual of the day in which I removed my hat and went outside with my bare head for the first time in at least six months. Gradually the gloves came off, then the scarf and definitely the coat. This Winter just lingered and lingered. I was still wearing my Winter coat, hat and mitts a mere fortnight ago. Then instead of going to a lighter coat and a lighter weight sweat suit, I zoomed right to light pants and a tee-shirt, even shucking’ the sweatshirt cardigan a block or so into my walk. An OMG moment for me for sure. While walking over the weekend, I was “just comfortable” and saw many folks wearing shorts and tank tops and several bare-chested men doing yard work. I don’t know that I’m that brave; after all – it is Michigan. The weather can change by the hour sometimes. I am hearing Mother’s Day will be chilly – as long as it doesn’t snow! No wonder they call us the “mitten state”. My boss is back, so now I have to adhere to a regular routine again. Out the door at 7:45 a.m. for a quick 2 ¼ mile trip this a.m. I’m hoping the rain and hot weather stay at bay so I can log in the walking miles I missed in April.

Another beautiful day dawned and I was out the door by 9:00 a.m. and headed to Council Point Park for my walk around the perimeter path. I am convinced that this haven of water, brush, trees and a little bit of wildlife could very well be called Lincoln Park’s gem. There were just a handful of people walking or jogging the perimeter today and no bikers. I was walking along minding my business when suddenly two huge Canada Geese waddled out from behind a brushy area and crossed my path. They were so busy squawking at one another that they didn’t see me and stopped right in front of me. I figure they were busy gossiping and oblivious to humans. They looked a little scared (and I was too – these guys were big and years ago I had an encounter at Silver Lake with a big swan who came after me, flapping its wings and running pretty quickly). I stopped in my tracks and they goose-stepped across the path with their huge, black webbed feet and started squawking to one another again. I had to smile and thought of my two plastic life-sized geese Mickey and Minnie and I have to put them outside this year. They are my brethren after all. I saw several squirrels, still chubby from the Winter, digging fast and furiously in various mulched areas as they frantically tried to recall where they buried their stash of nuts. I think I saw one scratching his head. Whether it was to prompt him to remember the hidey-hole or merely a bad case of fleas I don’t know. I also saw several huge fleet-footed rabbits; I’d have loved to have seen a litter of bunnies but none were within my sight anyway. I had just recovered from the encounter with the geese, when I saw a wiggle of ears out of the corner of my eye, and again I stopped in my tracks to not spook them and next thing I knew I saw a flash of white powder-puff tail go by. The birds at the Ecorse Creek are plentiful and I heard more different birdcalls than I saw the actual birds. I saw a Red-Winged Blackbird in the marshy area and if I had a camera I could have gotten a great close-up. I saw several goldfinches flitting around the marsh area as well. I identified a cardinal’s sweet song and now am going to make it a point to look for my copy of “Audubon Bird Guide to North American Birds” which my mom bought me years ago. I think they also have many websites where you can hear actual birdsong and identify the bird by its call and they have images to match up the birds as well. I am going to do this before I return to the Park next weekend. I am limited to this journey on weekends only since the entire round trip takes me 1 ½ hours – I won’t win any prize for my time expended on the walk but meandering through this idyllic little setting is well worth taking time to linger and take in a little of nature’s beauty.

Post script: When I finished up this post I left and decided to Google and find out more about Council Point Park. On doing this, I saw some pictures posted from earlier today – one picture was of a gentlemen I passed the time of day with and he had snapped some pictures of what maybe were the goose and gander I encountered. I wish I’d have been lucky enough to see the goslings!

What a glorious morning for my 3 ¼ mile walk today. It seemed the whole world woke up early and decided to get out of the house and celebrate this beautiful day. It seems hard to believe a mere two weeks ago we had snow flurries. This was my longest walk this season, 6,600 steps roundtrip, and tonight as I am writing this post, I feel every one of those steps. In fact I was sitting eating dinner and nodded off. Poor Buddy starting singing as loud as he could to get my attention (smile). Such a cacophony of sounds as I made my way to Council Point Park, each competing with one another to disturb the peace on this Saturday morning. The grass is now so lush and dark green and everywhere I looked men were snapping the mower start-up cord (and subsequently cussing each time it didn’t start) or pushing sputtering lawn mowers over already too-high grass. The droning whirr of weed whackers sounded like a zillion bees as gardeners whipped down the tall grass and weeds that spurted up at the speed of sound the past few weeks. I rounded a corner and glanced in a yard after hearing the sound of children’s laughter as they bounced on a trampoline, and a golden lab, caught up in the gaiety, was romping ‘round and ‘round the trampoline vicariously enjoying their fun. A sprinkler spritzed water to a fake lawn patch (which will never grow as the birds will feast on it first and render it useless) and a dapper gent walking his dog cried out in a foreign tongue as he removed his soaked newsboy cap from his head and then marched off. I heard several motorcycles whizzing by and their riders gunning the motors at each stop sign. People sat on porch steps drinking a steaming cup of their favorite morning brew and called out good morning to me. I heard a creaking noise and swiveled my head to watch an elderly couple sitting on a porch glider, hands linked, their rhythmic rocking perfectly synchronized. Just before I got to the Park entrance I watched a brave little soul tooling along on her pink two-wheeler with training wheels. She had a matching helmet and pink top and pants. Her parents clapped as she left the driveway and then the training wheels came to a clanking stop on the rough sidewalk and next I heard a wail and she had tipped over. I suspect she is now pretty in pink plus black and blue. All the sounds and action going on are uncharacteristic for an early Saturday morning but people are just glad to be out after such a dismal, cold April and long Michigan Winter. It is 1 ¾ miles from my house to the beginning of the foot path at Council Point Park and the park is actually at the very end of Stewart Avenue where I live. I walked the entire perimeter and it is a fairly wide path which goes down by the Ecorse Creek and winds around the picnic area and roller rink. It is about as scenic as you can get in the heart of a city and I enjoyed it immensely. In stark contrast to the walk to get there, the perimeter path is peaceful and many walkers, joggers and bikers were getting their morning exercise. All were solo, like me, just a handful were tuned into music, but most, like me, were walking and woolgathering. I wish I could go on this walk every day but it took me a solid one and a half hours from start to finish. I came home weary yet with a spring in my step. The lightheartedness that the first warm weekend in Spring brings to your soul is immeasurable. Indeed Spring has sprung.

Yellow, yellow everywhere.
In my clothes and in my hair.
Pollen flying from all the trees.
Making me just sneeze and sneeze.
—–Linda Schaub (2013)

Well a little Ogden Nash-like poem there – nothing fancy. Yellow is the word of the day because it is everywhere. House issues, errands and one day of bad weather kept me from walking an entire week. I did walk at Meijer and on errands yesterday but they just didn’t count; not when the weather is beautiful and beckoning me to lace up my walking shoes and head out. I was hankering for a real, long walk to drink in the finally-Spring weather. This morning was perfect. It was beautiful out and I shucked my cardigan within a few blocks from the house. Dandelions have cropped up everywhere rearing their golden heads and it looked like a sea of yellow as far as the eye could see. And beautiful tulips in every color in the Crayola box miraculously sprang up in Winter-weary gardens replacing the daffodils which are now fading fast. It is just inconceivable that in one week’s time the magnificent Magnolia trees went from bud to blossom and lawns are already littered with spent blossoms. The weather people promise a weekend of sunny beautiful weather so walking will happen this weekend, and I am glad to be back on course. As I headed back home I noticed our former neighbor and friend Ann Elmore’s red tulips standing like soldiers in a row under her kitchen window. She was so proud of those tulips which she had planted when they moved into their house when they first married. They must be nearly seven decades old and still thriving, despite the new homeowner’s efforts to rototill the entire side garden several years ago. I think I will think of Mrs. Elmore every year when I see this splash of color and remember how proud she was of her gardens. She had coneflowers and daisies encircling the entire backyard also many decades old. We “inspected” each other’s gardens at least once a year … sadly the last few years of her life dementia robbed her of her faculties and she did know even realize she had a garden in her backyard.

Oh Mother Nature, you’re such a tease!  You gave us two bright and beautiful days and today you get an “E” for effort as we had to endure yet another all-day rain.  Once again I relied on the meteorologists on several stations who predicted  a weekend chock full of sunshine with showers LATE Sunday afternoon.  But that was not to be.  I got up early, finished breakfast and a few chores, then I pulled on my sweats and laced up my shoes in anticipation of a long walk.  I had my garbage bags and myself out the door by 8:15 sharp.  Too bad I just set out and huge raindrops plopped down and never let up.  Hopefully, the horrible weather didn’t hinder  the annual March of Dimes “March for Babies” which was held in two locations in Michigan plus all across America.  The event was advertised all week on the radio – some seven million people walk in this worthwhile event annually.  It is held the last Sunday of April and the goal is to get sponsors to support your miles and completed walk.  More than a billion dollars has been collected to date.  Forty years ago I walked in “Walk America”, the same March of Dimes walking event which has since been renamed.  The event started and finished at Belle Isle.  I walked with a group of high school buddies and we completed all ten plus miles.  I think I had ten blisters to prove it since my shoes were not sufficiently “broken in” and I literally limped to the finish line.  Bob Seger was the celebrity functioning as the leader of the pack and our group chatted him up through the course of the walk.  We were all from Lincoln Park and he too had lived in Lincoln Park for awhile.  If you like your Seger songs, you’ll remember his old hit “Back in ‘72” with the line which is a tribute to our fair city:  “But we got homesick for Lincoln Park (imagine that) and then we just couldn’t stay” … he often played at the old Park Theatre in the early 70s.  I don’t think he finished up the walk but we did and for our efforts we each received a certificate entitled “Order of the Battered Boot” which featured a picture of an old boot with the several toes hanging out. Good times.  I Googled the 2013 event thinking perhaps I’d participate in it if the route was still in Wyandotte.  But the closest venue for me was Wayne State University.  So while my walk was a wash-out, hopefully the bad weather didn’t deter or put a damper on the walkers striding to finish their miles to bring in much-needed dollars for this worthy cause.

If this was a Jeopardy question, you’d answer:  “what is a traditional Indian battle cry just before invading the enemy” … heck, this is something you probably did as a kid, running around in the backyard holding a feather to the back of your head, and moving your fingers back-and-forth over your mouth while yelling “woowoowoowoowoowoo” like a banshee.  You didn’t do that?  Oops!  Well, I did it with my childhood friend Linda Crosby and we had a huge Indian-motif blanket strung up at a corner of the fence and draped into our respective yards which we used as our teepee.  That has to be five decades ago for goodness sake.  Several times this week WWJ mentioned a big celebration at Council Point Park in Lincoln Park commemorating  the 250^th anniversary of Chief Pontiac’s council which convened on April 27, 1763.  (Yawn.)  But, the WWJ story promised fanfare and a glimpse in history.  The Lincoln Park Historical Society touted the week-long festivities on their website along with a history lesson.   Since it is a stone’s throw away I decided this was my destination for today’s 2 ¾ mile promenade.  The park itself stretches over many city blocks, has a nice footpath close to the creek’s edge and is just the perfect place to be on an absolutely fabulous Spring day.  Now, while I wasn’t expecting to see an Indian brave riding bareback, hanging onto his pinto pony’s mane in one hand, and a tomahawk in another, a few Indian artifacts scattered about might have set the scene.  A totem pole, a wigwam, some smoke signals perhaps?  A tiny canvas teepee was the only evidence of any festivities and it was nestled between alot of R.V.s and Port-A-Potties.  I half-expected a vendor pitching elephant ears, cotton candy and popcorn to be present as well.  Lincoln Park’s version of City-organized festivities usually are disappointing.   While I was never a cowboy-n-Indian movie fan, if I were to reach back in the ol’ memory bank, I can pull out a picture and fondly recall a 1992 trip to Cherokee, North Carolina made by my mom and me.  We went the first week of May to Kentucky and North Carolina – the weather was perfect for sightseeing but it was so foggy and chilly the morning we planned to traverse the Great Smoky Mountains, that our waitress at the diner where we ate breakfast advised us to wait until afternoon to do the twists and turns on the winding roads to avoid hitting icy patches.  To pass the time, we stopped in Cherokee, North Carolina at a small kitschy-type place called Teepee Village which was part of the Cherokee Indian Reservation at the entrance to the Great Smoky Mountains National Park.  The little town’s chief attraction (if you’ll pardon the pun) was Chief Henry.  A huge weathered sign proclaimed this elderly Chief to be the most-photographed Indian in the world.  The Chief,  who donned a traditional trailing headdress, beaded garb and fringed moccasins, charged a couple of bucks to have your picture standing next to him.  It was soon evident Chief Henry liked the ladies and when he posed with them, he fairly preened as he gave a broad smile, a little wink and threw his arm around their shoulders.  My mom and I also posed with the big man in front of the Teepee Village Strip Mall forever capturing a remembrance of that morning detour from our scenic Smoky Mountains adventure.

‘Nuff said!!!

The calendar, which touts the arrival of Spring nearly five weeks, is soooooooo wrong. Even the advent of the pretty pink moon tonight doesn’t conjure any pastel Spring images when people are still in warm weather gear and yesterday the snow was a’flyin’. It was a harsh wind as I set out on “foot errands” this morning, multi-tasking as I strode along Fort Street making three stops to get errands done. Brrrrrrrr. The wind was whipping around – leaves, food wrappers and miscellaneous and sundry debris dancing in the still salt-stained streets. Green grass is growing haphazardly in clumps, looking unkempt, and rock salt kept crunching under the soles of my shoes as I stepped briskly along. I huddled down further into my coat, pulled my wool scarf higher over my neck and cold kept filtering through the woven fibers in my wool hat. I walked along the cross-street and a chimney was huffing and puffing and belching out a thick black smoke, smelling like someone was using wet wood. It made me momentarily cough and it filled the air with an acrid smell and lingered in my clothing long after I passed. I am still so bummed because this rainy weather has made me miss many walks the past few weeks. When I last walked, tiny shoots of daffs and crocuses were just emerging above the still-frozen earth in many gardens I passed. I like watching the progress of these Spring flowers; it’s like watching time-lapse photography over the course of a few weeks. But I missed all that. The daffodils are already in bloom and probably today’s wind will whisk that bloom away before day’s end. The forsythia are just starting to bloom putting colorful yellow hues into still another gray and dismal-looking-and-feeling day. I got home and took the car for a spin to get gas and a car wash – I pulled into the driveway and it starting “slaining” to borrow a phrase from Sonny Eliot – quick downpour mixed with sleet. Someone has got this calendar thing all wrong.