… as I enjoyed one of the last lazy, hazy, crazy days of Summer. Fall would officially arrive on Saturday, September 23rd.
As I flipped the page to December, the last month for “The Great Outdoors” nature calendar, with a featured locale of Mount Ranier National Park in Washington, I was pleased to see the quote was about walking and the words resonated with me.
I have written in the past how my morning meanders revitalize me and reset my soul, whether it is tripping along the walking path at cozy Council Point Park or traversing trails and crossing marshy overlooks at larger venues like Lake Erie Metropark.
My weekday walks are always in the early morning by necessity due to my work schedule, but even when I don’t have a watch strapped onto my wrist on weekends, I am lured to larger parks on the same schedule since mornings there are so quiet and peaceful.
I always wonder what winged or furry creature I will encounter first?
On each trip to Lake Erie Metropark, as I set out on my walk, I am curious what nature shots will fill up my camera’s memory card that day. It’s a sure bet my early arrival will glean some shots of critters foraging or waterfowl fishing in the still waters not yet choppy from the wake of motor boats or faraway freighters. I have a few favorite spots like an overlook by Cove Point where I always head first to glimpse Heron, Egrets, Swans or dabbling Mallard ducks.
Sometimes the still-sleeping Mallards are lined up on a log, with one “sentry” watching over its brethren and, if I’m extra quiet, on another log I might get a shot of turtles in a neat queue – that is before they catch sight of me and plop into the water.
This year I’ve been extra lucky to have multiple sightings of the pair of Sandhill Cranes.
Yes, this is my definition of a peaceful morning.
So, who else is a morning person, er … critter?
Along the Cherry Island Trail I saw a diving Cormorant – here he/she surfaced just long enough to get its picture taken.
There were a few broken trees, not the work of Beavers as I’ve shown you in the past. Yes, no whittling here, just the effects of strong winds, perhaps the tornado that touched down on the other side of the park on August 24th.
This bare trunk, minus some bark might have been the work of beetles.
And this wooden fence meant a graffiti artist with a penknife had been by.
In this swampy area I saw movement in the water. Figuring it was likely laden with mosquitoes I took this shot, then started to walk on by.
But the persistent wiggles in the water made me step closer and I saw this. I zoomed in on these critters, but I’m still not sure if they are larvae or baby minnows. I did an Google image search to no avail.
There were geese galore, all flying high and honking their heads off. These were in a sloppy formation – maybe practicing for the long haul down South, although I think most of our Canada Geese just stay put.
My Barn Swallows were gone – no more swooping and diving or perching, but I was pretty lucky getting up-close photos of them this Summer. I still have some shots of them to share with you.
Wildflowers were blooming and Cabbage Whites were taking advantage of them.
I spotted some Pretty-in-Pink Knotweed.
These Black-eyed Susans were blooming, but a bit bedraggled.
The resilient Goldenrod was still thriving and adding bright spots along the trail.
This pair of Bumblebees appreciated that Goldenrod.
The reeds were still green, but I saw no Red-winged Blackbirds nestled in them.
As I rounded the corner on this overlook, I saw these “hangers-on” creeping onto the walkway.
At the overlook I watched a Mallard ponder whether to eat some funky-looking green goo reckoning that if it’s duckweed, then it’s for ducks? She did a “sniff test” first like the squirrels do. 🙂
Great Blue Heron and some Egrets gathered together, co-mingling perhaps to share fishing tips?
This was a peaceful sight – I do love reflections, even with dead, bare trees.
The reality that Fall was not far off was this exploding Cattail. A fun factoid for you – only female Cattails explode into white, fuzzy seed-heads.
Red-tinged leaves and …
… a fallen heart-shaped Poplar leaf hinted that Fall was on the horizon.
HawkFest and some more fun facts for you.
I took this walk on Friday, September 15th, the day before the annual, two-day HawkFest Event held on the grounds next to the Marshlands Museum at Lake Erie Metropark.
My Metroparks newsletter told me between 2,000 and 4,000 people attend this free event every year. I always buy an annual Metropark pass, so what stops me from attending? Well, I am still cautious about being in crowds due to COVID – perhaps next year I’ll visit.
When I went to visit “Luc” the resident eagle …
… I noticed the set-up had already begun for the event.
Bales of hay were being unloaded and I know from photos of past events, they are used as seats for visitors to watch lecturers speak about various raptors while exhibiting and/or holding them.
HawkFest is held in September because this is the month which coincides with the largest Broad-winged Hawk migration, wherein sometimes, depending on wind velocity, tens of thousands of raptors may pass by the boat launch area in a single day. If there are steady northwest or west winds producing updrafts, the strong air currents are favorable for these predator birds. Broad-winged Hawks (like Red-shouldered Hawks or Cooper’s Hawks) prefer light tailwinds which enable them to travel 200 to 300 plus miles (320 to 480 km) in a single day, wherein winds over 15 to 20 mph (24 to 32 km/hr) can be too strong for them, so they will not move in large numbers then.
You may recall my recent post about the large groups of Turkey Vultures migrating through the area as well and that was the reason for my visit on that particular day.
To clarify, this area where HawkFest takes place is not where the migrating raptors are counted; instead the counting and viewing takes place in the boat launch area near the docks as you see below. Here, the official count takes place alongside photographers with long lenses and tripods or birders with binoculars pressed to their faces, all awaiting the anticipated arrival of these birds of prey.
I wanted to include the Detroit River Hawk Watch official counting website, but the link is unsecure.
Here it is if you’re game: detroitriverhawkwatchdotorg.
The signage near this “Count site” details what raptors will pass through from September through November.
I have stopped by this viewing location many times during the raptor migration since I bought my first Metropark pass in 2018 and unbelievably have not seen a single raptor pass overhead.
This day was no different, so I moved on ….
I decided to walk along The Trapper’s Run trail where I had the nice encounter with the doe … so did I see a doe? No doe, but there was an unwelcome visitor, not far from the tips of my walking shoes – ugh! I was nearly at the end of the trail and had already put the camera away when in my peripheral vision I saw movement on the path. A huge snake slithered by and into the ground cover. No photo – probably my hands were shaking and heart pounding too much anyway even if I had the camera ready. I know Eastern Fox Snakes are common around Southeast Michigan, so I shouldn’t have been surprised. Come to think of it, I used the expression “an unwelcome visitor” to describe the snake, when in reality, perhaps I was the unwelcome visitor in Mr. Snake’s territory???
It HAD been a peaceful morning until the snake discovery. I wasn’t far from the car, so that was a relief … not because the snake would follow me, but I was overdressed in my sweatsuit, so, unlike Mr. Snake, I had no layers to shed and a blast of cool air from the car’s A/C would surely be welcome.
Peace does not exist around the world, but there is peace to be found here.
The holly days, er … the holiday season has arrived.
Now, I’ll admit I’m a wee bit late reporting on a walk taken at the Gourdgeous Gourds Party since those gourds had their swan song a while ago.
There were perfectly rounded gourds paired with Chrysanthemums …
… or nestled near Sweet Alyssum.
I liked those bumpy gourds called “Knucklehead” or “Goosebumps” (a specialty pumpkin line known as “Superfreak” developed by Siegers Seed Co. right here in Holland, Michigan).
There were even odd-shaped gourds, some which reminded me of a muffin – perhaps I was hungry?
I photographed these gourds during a visit to the Taylor Conservatory and Botanical Gardens on Sunday, October 8th. It was nippy that early morning and, at 42F (5C), it was the first time I pulled on gloves and donned a hat. The wind was gusting to about 25 mph (40 km/h), all just a preview of the weather on the horizon. And, while the proverbial frost was not on the pumpkin(s) yet, it was still a shock to the system when temps flirted with the mid-80s mark just a few days before. I figured the pumpkins in harvest displays in the ‘hood were about to be pumpkin puree with those temps.
The flowers were flourishing on that bright and sunny morning, thanks in part to the volunteers who tend to them all Summer.
Flash forward a few weeks and the beautiful harvest display was whisked away to usher in the Gardens’ Conservatory décor, i.e. the tall Christmas tree, pine boughs nestled in pots and strung in festive loops with jaunty red bows, just in time for the tree lighting and Christmas singalong this past Saturday.
Yes, the Christmas season is here.
How did you fare with the Thanksgiving holiday fare?
With the official holiday season off and running, I hope you are not feeling weighted down like those rounded gourds pictured above. I know it is difficult to restrain yourself when presented with a steady stream of treats. Do you take one or two, or both treats – you must be polite to the hostess you know!
Decisions, decisions … “so do I want walnut pie or peanut pie … or both?”
“Hmm – I could put back this peanut and grab a walnut … or is that uncouth to do so? No one will notice I slobbered on the peanut, right?”
I’d even go out on a limb and say your face registered shock when you stood on the scales (“OMG, no way!”) …
… and you’ve worn sweatpants or stretchy pants with a little give to them ever since!
“Oh my – how did Linda know that? Whew – I thought it was just me!”
But, you’d better watch out, or you will be looking like the Jolly Old Elf himself, or maybe like Parker and his pals who are plumping up and looking very rounded these days. Of course, it isn’t just me feeding them. They’ve been foraging for months, scarfing down lots of peanuts, but also hiding them all around the Park, or up in their nests. They are roly-poly now, or to use more current internet lingo, they are “chonky” these days, but that is just the fat layer that helps insulate them, plus Mother Nature provides them thicker fur to get through those brutally cold Winter months.
So, Parker has an excuse for his usual boyish physique looking a little, ahem, should we be polite and just say “rounded” these days?
Fat-bottomed squirrels.
Now, I’m not here to fat-shame my furry pals, but here’s a few photos of them out and about and enjoying some walnuts, which were just as rounded as they were.
I’m just having a little mirth at their girth is all.
It has been a long time since I attended a holiday gathering with family and friends to break bread and engage in camaraderie and conversation. And, just like most holiday gatherings, there were always great expectations, not necessarily for the pinch on my cheek by my Aunt Frances, but more so for the holiday meal. Ah yes, to dig into the abundance of stuffing … lots of stuffing, a treat we only had when there was a holiday bird. (This was long before Stove Top Stuffing debuted 50 years ago, in March 1973.) We didn’t have ham very often as my grandmother always had a ham in the fridge, so it wasn’t really a holiday treat.
There were also Mom’s prized pies, tiny tarts and shortbread breakers to savor and, because I was the “baby” in the family, I always got the drumstick (sometimes two, depending on the size of the bird). Then there was the expectation of breaking the wishbone the following day once it dried out– would I get the bigger piece and my wish would be granted? Now, many years later, those gatherings are mere memories to reflect upon like vintage movie reels running in my mind. Photo albums brimming with images of our smiling faces as loved ones locked arms, are remembered moments that help keep those small family gatherings alive, especially since all of the participants but me are now gone.
These days I have a different type of holiday gathering and it’s not an idyllic Norman Rockwell-type scene, but instead one where I, alone, preside at the “dinner table” and dole out goodies, but, instead of passing the mashed potatoes, then handing over the gravy boat, I am sharing treats with my furry and feathered friends at Council Point Park – yes, it is our annual Thanksgiving feast which I will memorialize in today’s post.
Admittedly, there are great expectations on both our parts: the squirrels and birds anxiously await the goodies I have toted along and, as for me … well I hope for fun photo ops to share in this forum. So, in our respective ways, we find gratitude and give thanks for one another.
I find peace and happiness there.
If you’re a regular reader of my blog, you know 2023 marked one decade of walking at my favorite nature nook and, even though I may stray to larger venues on most weekends, I always return here where I got reacquainted with nature and my camera back in 2013. (I began my walking regimen in 2011 when I started working from home.)
My morning meanders are the best part of my day and I’m grateful to “get away from it all” just one mile away at Council Point Park. My weekday morning routine, all year around, unless I have errands/appointments, or the weather outside is frightful, is to head to this venue to “reset” my mind. After sipping coffee and downing a bowl of oatmeal, having absorbed the often horrific morning news headlines, I find gratitude that I have an option to escape from it all by simply snapping off the radio, stepping out the door and enjoying this little nature nook embedded in the middle of our City. It’s a peaceful place to “walk on the wild side” that is, until I eventually leave to return home and begin my workday.
Truth be told, I am happy if I get to the Park and no one bothers me … that is, except for the squirrels and birds … they are allowed. No, I don’t want to re-hash the political events, murder or car crash stats, or any of the other local, national and international sordid and horrid things that made up the newscast I just left behind. Since I don’t have pets, I am more than happy to have adopted my Park pals, be they feathered or furred and, whether they look at their benefactor as “The Peanut Lady” or “Snow White” I nurture them and give them sustenance, especially now as they frantically cache food for the Winter. I think and hope they know I am a constant all year around, but fractious Winter weather sometimes keeps me housebound, rather than risking a car crash, or a tumble on snowy and icy roads or Park walking paths. I try to make up for it when I return, lavishing extra food on them.
The critters anticipated their goodies, which I dropped in three places.
On that beautiful October morning …
… I arrived juggling two large store bags, one hooked onto each elbow, I saw many pairs of eyes peering at me. Yes, they scoped me out from their respective perches, like these squirrels …
… or the various birds that have a “bird’s eye view” to scope out my arrival, like “Rex” the Red-bellied Woodpecker.
Though I got no photos of Mr. and Mrs. Cardinal that day, they perch nearby every day for peanuts or sunflower seeds, patiently awaiting the more-boisterous Blue Jays to swoop down and then they venture forth. Here are a few Jays waiting for me to leave to grab a peanut. They announce my arrival to other Jays in a cacophony of noisy shrieks.
I’m sure their eyes took in the size of the bags and their brain gears clicked: “whoa, are those bags all filled with peanuts or maybe walnuts, or sunflower seeds?” Yes, visions of those goodies danced in their heads like those proverbial sugarplums.
The Black-capped Chickadee positioned itself under the Safe Haven Tree, checking for “leftovers” from my last visit.
Moments later, having shimmied down trees, or having stood up so they can see what’s happening, a scurry of squirrels scurried over to greet me, bobbing and weaving through the crispy leaves …
I am sure there was gratitude as I neatly stacked corncobs and pumpkins side-by-side, though the often precocious and sometimes petulant Parker whined on behalf of this munch bunch: “but where are the peanuts Linda?”
Various birds swooped down, mindful of their much larger, peanut-eating counterparts, but hovering close by anyway, awaiting the doling out of goodies.
But, no worries guys and gals because yes, I was toting peanuts too, so the critters purposely stood their ground, (or perch as the case may be), knowing full well that they could disregard those veggies, but they’d still get peanuts and sunflower seeds. So yes, I relented, sucker that I am. 🙂
A few corncobs and pumpkins were left at the pavilion area …
… followed by a “drop” at the Safe Haven Tree (named because it protects the critters from Hawks swooping down while my Park pals are eating).
Last, but not least, was my final stop by the bushes near the Creek shoreline, also a safe spot for critters to dine without fear of Hawks.
They humored me, tried the weird treats but did a “sniff test” first.
Here are some of my little friends gathered ‘round one of the “holiday tables” and deciding peanuts or sunflower seeds were the safest bet and they’re easier to carry away too.
The “doubters” insisted on inspecting unidentifiable objects nestled next to their beloved peanuts, before they indulged. As usual, a “sniff test” was in order.
Meanwhile, back at the pavilion area, the odd-shaped treats had been investigated and tried, but only after peanuts and sunflower seeds had been eaten.
A Blue Jay ate the corn kernels from the bottom of the bag that I scattered around the pavilion area.
My woodland friends pals were happy for their treats … yes there is gratitude for full tummies, but there is gratitude on my part too for this mini-escape to walk and tender treats and I’m always happy for the respite to get away from it all, albeit briefly.
Are you wondering about the header image? My high school pal Carol, whom I’ve not seen in 50 years (since high school graduation) and now lives in New York, sent me this mug earlier this week. She is a fellow nature lover and knows I like squirrels, so she sent it as a surprise. The name of the mug design is “Party Under the Feeder” – next year I will insist Parker don a corn cob hat for my Thanksgiving post.
Lately I’ve regaled you with images of colorful leaves and there will be a few more posts brimming with lovely leaves down the pipeline. But for now, frost and rain have diminished the vivid colors of most of that Fall foliage and back-to-back gusty days have left only the most-tenacious leaves still hanging on for dear life. These days, instead of admiring the leaves, the soles of my heavy walking shoes tromp along the walking path, alternately crunching them underfoot, or they end up clinging to my shoe soles with a faint, musty smell from recent rains.
Sadly, we’ve gone from beautiful to brown and blah.
But, even before the leaves were all aflutter, the beauty of the various marshes I routinely visit also began to diminish. There are Pond Lilies plus American Lotus beds at Sterling State Park in Monroe, Michigan, but the beds are not as large as those at Lake Erie Metropark – they are just scattered throughout the marshy lagoons. Those Lotuses take months of growing time before they bloom and dazzle us with their beauty, then, after a few days’ blooming time, the leaves are all that remain. By Fall, those wilted, brown leaves remain on the water’s surface and eventually the similarly colored seed pods on their stalks look like periscopes rising out of the water, a somewhat eerie scene once the marshes freeze over.
I visited Sterling State Park in early October, just as the first bite of cold had dried up those large Lotus leaves and turned them brown. While very few trees in this 1,300-acre park had yet to erupt into color, the Pond Lilies, Lotuses and some reeds had already dried up. Initially, I was a bit disappointed I’d made the 60-mile round trip with not much to photograph, but I logged a 7.5 mile (9.7 kilometer) jaunt around this entire park and gleaned enough photos for two, maybe even three posts – part one will be today.
Meandering around the marshes.
The Sterling Marsh Trail encircles the large lagoon at Sterling State Park. As I walked along I had to be mindful of my footing. Although it is an asphalt path, many tree roots have poked through that paved path leaving it broken and uneven, plus lots of fallen Poplar leaves littered the path, so I couldn’t always tell where that uneven payment might be. After carefully navigating that pathway for a while, I took a break from the rigors of studying the asphalt and stepped over to the shoreline and soon thereafter spotted a gathering of Mute Swans.
So, what can brown do for you?
Well, besides brown being my favorite color, on this day, the sun was out just enough to cast reflections of those brown leaves onto the water, as well as the waterfowl gliding around peacefully in the marsh. It was a prettier sight than originally anticipated when I set out on this walk. In fact, I thought the blah, brown background with only the bright-white swans’ plumage makes these pictures look like vintage sepia prints with colorized swans.
These are Mute Swans, instantly recognizable by their orange bills. The males are called “cobs” and the females “pens” and to tell them apart you look at the black knob at the base of the bill. The knob at the base of the male’s bill is more bulbous than the female’s knob, especially in the Spring during mating season. Unlike raptors where the females are usually larger than the males, this is not the case with swans.
These group shots really do not do them justice. I took this photo while wondering how many “swans a swimming” were in the group for a potential Wordless Wednesday post at Christmastime. But, while Googling later, I learned I was one shy of the “seven swans a swimming” from “The Twelve Days of Christmas” song – there were just six in this “bevy” which is the collective word for a gathering of swans in the water.
I took many photos that morning, but my favorites are the close-ups where these graceful waterfowl are mirrored in the water’s surface.
I stayed put for a while, gazing at those beautiful birds, just them and me. But, of course, all good things must come to an end in a nature setting, usually the result of humans. In this case, it was not a vehicle that zoomed by and spooked the swans, but a gunshot by waterfowl hunters at Pointe Mouille, just ten miles away.
Only two nearby swans remained in place, seemingly unfazed by the gunshots.
I didn’t know then, but the best was yet to come!
After the gunshot and mass exodus I walked along the shoreline where I saw a lot of Egrets … here is one of them.
Then there were two more swans. I took these shots as one swan rose out of the water displaying its wide wingspan. Its mate (likely, maybe a friend) seemed unimpressed and returned to preening. 🙂 Similarly, a Mallard just paddled on by … whatever, right?
The blasé attitude of the waterfowl brethren made me smile, but I smiled even more when I saw these photos on the computer screen a couple of weeks later and instantly recognized the long and pointed black bills of Trumpeter Swans, my first time photographing them, although I’ve often seen them in flight.
When all swans are in flight, their wings make a humming or whistling sound that carries more than a mile and may help the birds communicate with each other. So, whenever I hear that humming noise, I instantly look up. I found this very short video on YouTube for you to listen to if you click here.
I finally went back to the walking path as I knew I had a lot of ground to cover before I reached the trailhead where I had parked my car.
There were still a few wildflowers blooming, offsetting the drab, brown Teasels.
A dainty Cabbage White butterfly nestled in between these petals …
… probably because this thistle was spent and too prickly.
Although I stood patiently beneath this eagles’ nest hoping its inhabitants would return, thus giving me a photo op, it was all for naught as I just wasted 20 minutes’ time – no eagles. It’s not the first time this nest was empty when I visited this park.
It looked like no one was home in these brown, nondescript and rather dilapidated birdhouses either.
Sadly, Summer’s swan song is just the precursor to Fall’s beauty and eventually Winter’s blah and boring landscape.
Linda Schaub
WALKIN', WRITIN', WIT & WHIMSY 