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.
On Thursday many of you will gather with loved ones and friends to give thanks for food and other blessings.
As we ease into Thanksgiving week, I want to update you on MY “family” of furry and feathered friends at Council Point Park in a very long and picture-laden post.
If you’ve followed my blog for a while, you already know I am nuts about squirrels.
Over the years I’ve regaled you with holiday posts about my wild “pets” after giving them Thanksgiving treats, then taking photos. Sometimes the squirrels were picky, snagging peanuts first, then begrudging chomping on a corn cob and/or sinking their front teeth into a mini pumpkin. One Thanksgiving I even made them pecan pies, (ground walnut pie shells filled with loose pecans and pecan suet – yes, I skipped the whipped cream).
But I, the “Peanut Lady” will tell you that peanuts still rule, whether you’re a squirrel, Cardinal, Blue Jay or a Woodpecker. 🙂
Squirrels are savvy.
The squirrels are all about food-gathering this time of year. That stashing-nuts-away phase began once the weather got cooler and their brains began clicking … “gotta get my nut stash ready for Winter.” That mindset, along with Mother Nature providing them a thicker coat of fur and an extra layer of fat, prepares them for the cold Winter ahead. Soon those streamlined bodies morphed into waddling, rotund ones. But the squirrels are still quick on their feet, especially once peanuts enter the picture. I assist the “squirreling-away” process by doling out peanuts. Like clockwork, by mid-September, peanuts are no longer savored one after the other; instead, the ratio of peanuts buried in the ground versus gobbled down greatly increases.
So, this year, it was no different for me feeding my furry friends extra peanuts to prepare them for the long, lean days, when snow and ice will likely cover up those stored goodies, or I must forego a walk due to slick road conditions.
The year 2025 comes with a disclaimer.
Life goes on in the Park and, even though it’s not as abysmal there now as it was in 2024, my favorite nature nook still lacks ambiance, not to mention wildlife. There are less furry friends, i.e. after a dozen years of feeding a clan of squirrels 40+ strong on a daily basis, at most 15-18 furry friends are clamoring for peanuts now. The Jays, Cardinals and Rex the Red-bellied Woodpecker are back, but Harry the Heron is MIA. Canada geese still roam about, but Mallard sightings are rare, though I hear quacks from time to time.
As you know, I lost most of my squirrels over the Winter of 2024 – 2025 for reasons not clear to me. I still believe they starved or froze to death when we had weeks and weeks of bitter-cold weather, two Polar Vortex events and excessive ice and snow so they couldn’t access food and I never made it to the Park for weeks. I am now the only person that feeds the squirrels – sadly the others have passed away or just quit feeding them.
In March, after I was aghast seeing just a couple of squirrels at the Park instead of the usual “Munch Bunch” fellow walker Henry’s cruel response was that “eagles or coyotes got ‘em”, a statement that hurt my heart and upset me greatly. I dispute that theory – yes, a couple of squirrels may have become prey, but squirrels are savvy and once they’ve witnessed one of their own lifted up by huge talons, or in the mouth of a coyote, they’d think twice about venturing out for food with a predator around and thus remain in the nest.
Recently that same walker said “hey, I gotta show you this” …
… and whipped out his phone to show me a picture of a Cooper’s Hawk perched in a tree near the pavilion and suggested predators are still around “to nab ’em” – sigh. I was tempted to say “do you get a perverse delight in telling me these things?” but I held my tongue.
I told him Cooper’s Hawks have been trolling the Park for a long time. I’ve got posts with photos of them – they are even in the neighborhood. They are my furry friends’ nemesis, but I repeat – the squirrels are still not stupid.
Why I stayed away for 95 days.
I walked sporadically at the Park in April and May, but the final straw was over Memorial Day weekend when I saw only one squirrel. Then, there was sewer construction, with concrete sewer pipes strewn about the Park and heavy vehicles had overtaken the parking lot. I decided not to return until the construction was over. Dutifully, I drove past the Park once each week and when the mess was gone and the big hole in the parking lot was paved over, I returned.
I may have abandoned the Park and its meager inhabitants for three months, but that was not an easy decision. Had I continued walking there, I would have forced myself to walk to/from the Park, feeding the critters, no matter how hot/humid/smoky it was. I would have been more accountable to them AND to myself, but instead I was angry. Countless times I have walked in similar weather conditions in the past, never giving it a second thought. Walking in the ‘hood was not the same, so regrettably I stopped walking for many days.
My return to Council Point Park was the Friday before Labor Day, a date I chose since it was the Friday before Labor Day in 2011 when I began my walking regimen.
It was 95 days since I last walked on the perimeter path, and to be honest, I both dreaded what I’d see, but I had to know … would there be any squirrels or birds to interact with? Had the shoreline been planted with native plants, the plan that was to happen after the savage destruction of the shoreline and habitats of the waterfowl, birds and squirrels on May 8, 2024 and documented here.
Whiskers in the wind.
With much trepidation, while toting a large bag of unsalted “people peanuts”, the critters’ favorite fare, I returned to Council Point Park on August 29th after the aforementioned absence of 95 days. Mentally I prepared myself for what I would see. I didn’t take the camera, choosing to focus on them and our potential interaction, rather than picture-taking. I felt like I’d been away forever, this special place where I have walked a million steps and taken thousands of photos of the venue and its inhabitants through the years, this place where I renewed my interest in photography.
That first day I saw three squirrels: a female Fox Squirrel came bounding over to me right away and parked herself at the tip of my walking shoe, one front paw placed on top. I felt tears welling up in my eyes as she studied me. I swear this is Parker’s mate, whom I had dubbed “Penelope” and I had even written a fun post about Penelope and Parker when I first saw them together – you can find that post here.
Penelope was not timid at all and I lavished peanuts on her. Another Fox squirrel bolted when I encountered him along the path and a black squirrel scrambled up a tree but finally came down after I coaxed him with my open palm filled with peanuts and some sweet talkin’.
Like the expression “two out of three ain’t bad” I breathed a sigh of relief that some vestiges of my favorite nature nook were intact, even if those “promised” native plants to be planted by the Friends of the Detroit River were absent and in their stead were weeds, some towering way over me. I saw no waterfowl in the Creek, but its water was blackish and the water level was low that day. Ugh!
I walked the perimeter path a few more times, but no squirrels (or birds) came to see me then. As I walked home, I was positive, even hopeful, that my daily walks would improve over time.
The next day I returned with my camera.
Yes, I couldn’t resist. The day before I noticed those familiar trees that always turned color early and had subtle shades of yellow and red were showing some promise, despite our moderate drought conditions.
I walked one time around, feeding what had now become six squirrels. I mused that the “Town Crier” had spread the word that “The Peanut Lady” had returned and maybe a few squirrels from the ‘hood had been alerted as well since they all rushed toward me.
Yes, as corny as it sounds, my heart was full after hearing the familiar sounds of peanut shells falling to the ground and even those noisy Blue Jays screeching to their brethren to come and scam peanuts from the squirrels.
It was noisy, yet peaceful, if that makes sense.
After walking one loop, I was ready to take pictures which you see below.
The Mulberry bushes, mowed down by the initial devastation, once provided sustenance to the critters, but now, in my absence, it was black walnuts …
… and acorns.
Some things always stay the same, like the homeowner that lives on the fringe of the Park and plants sunflowers every year. They’re good for photo ops of bees and goldfinches.
I was sure the fir tree planted by one of the walkers in 2024 had grown an inch – will anyone decorate it this year? The background is the side of the Park that looks half-decent and was not demolished like the other side.
The City and Friends of the Detroit River planted 20 new trees this year. A few replaced the memorial trees that were lost in the Creek-widening effort and there was a new memorial tree.
The shoreline was still raggedy-looking …
… but the Sumac leaves were already tinged with red, an occurrence that always happens in August.
The Pokeberries added some color to the shoreline – birds can eat them without getting sick, but they are harmful to mammals.
The Goldenrod was still vibrant …
… the Teasels not so much.
The Milkweed pods were plump and hopefully will attract Monarchs next year.
A bee was busy in the Thistle …
… while other Thistles had turned to fluff.
How about some “wildlife” photos?
On this second day back walking, I was amused to see there were already great expectations times two – the second one is Penelope.
An Eastern Gray squirrel’s interest was piqued by what else, but peanuts.
It cautiously approached them, mindful of my presence, then made the grab …
… and, as it munched happily, I told it “see that wasn’t so bad and I didn’t bite!” Must’ve been a “newbie”.
A black squirrel scrambled up a tree initially, then paused, eyes homing in on the peanuts – we had played this same game the day before.
Moments later it bravely descended, I suspect not to hurt my feelings. 🙂
It quickly scrambled back up the tree soon thereafter – must have been another “newbie” at the Park.
Much to my delight Penelope wandered over and …
… gave me the once-over, then …
… headed toward my shoe.
A big dog loped by, off leash, which sent her running for cover. I waited on the path until the dog was gone and her heart stopped beating out of her chest and she joined me again. I gave her some peanuts and said “hold that pose!” I forgot to say “please” but she accommodated me anyway.
There was one more cute pose, which reminded me of Parker … what a ham!
Near the pavilion, at one of the memorial trees that remained unscathed by the munching metal monsters, a squirrel eyed me (or peanuts) in some amusing photos.
Things have definitely gotten better ….
In the following weeks, there were more squirrels, mostly black squirrels and now often too many to count during my walks. That pleases me.
Since litters of kits emerge from the nest some 12 weeks after they’re born, I suspect the influx of black squirrels in the last six weeks are kits that have emerged from the nest.
Every day I see more of the sweet and inquisitive Eastern Gray squirrels and we now have about eight Fox squirrels, all eager to interact and chow down. Perhaps I have retained my crown of Squirrel Whisperer too?
But, will there be enough squirrels to mate and produce more youngsters? Time will tell.
What about my fine-feathered friends?
These days the Blue Jays are all over the Park greedily snatching peanuts from the little piles I leave at trees or right where my furry friends park themselves. There are now two female Cardinals and they will come down, but after I leave – the males always were braver, but I hear the Cardinal tweets and look up and often see them all watching me. I’ve been toting along my camera some days, but I’ve not gotten any pics yet of the Jays, Cardinals or even Rex, the Red-bellied Woodpecker, who similarly does a swoop and snatch for a peanut. I’ve heard the Chickadees singing as well, so I’m now toting chopped loose peanuts and sunflower seeds again. It’s easier to take a group shot of everyone feeding as they all congregate in the snow. Hopefully those photos can happen this Winter.
Sometimes I’ve sweetened the pot by adding trail mix onto the perimeter path, or tucking some peanuts into a pumpkin someone has set out.
The trees are finally bare, their leaves littering the ground and the now very roly-poly squirrels rustle them as they race over. Sometimes I must put on my rose-colored glasses when visiting this venue to remain positive.
If you’re still here, thank you for sticking with this exceptionally long post – next week’s post will be short and sweet (emphasis on sweet).
I’ll leave you with a poem which portions are the various titles for one of my favorite series of books by James Herriot and a PBS series I am enjoying, soon to begin Season Six: “All Creatures Great and Small”.
“All things bright and beautiful, All creatures great and small, All things wise and wonderful, The Lord God made them all. ~Cecil Frances Alexander
Just as this walker muddled through a less-than-pleasant Summer, Mother Nature’s Summer of 2025 similarly plodded along, pumping out record warmth and humidity, until begrudgingly backing off and allowing cooler temps to prevail.
It was almost as though Summer mocked Autumn’s arrival.
Then suddenly, on the morning of October 8th, it appeared that Summer, like the Mallards in the featured image and below, beat a hasty retreat as …
… we dropped 25+ degrees and Fall finally settled in and stabilized – whew!
What a long, strange trip our entire 2025 weather has been.
The days that followed the arrival of “real Fall” were a treat, with so many glorious weather days that I lost track of them all – for me it was the best weather of 2025. But, while the critters and I may have enjoyed soaking up the sun, the trees were not so happy as mentioned in my recent “Walktober” post wherein I described my October 3rd trip to Lake Erie Metropark as lackluster and I just rolled in and out again, without even stopping to park.
Given the cooler temps, I was eager to see if this park’s foliage would be at peak, so off I went on October 20th, camera in tow.
I will admit I’ve enjoyed prettier Fall walks at this venue, but, there was a potpourri of color, a lot of brown in the marshes from exploding cattails and dried reeds, but I also found areas infused with enough golds, oranges and reds to declare it a good leaf-peepin’ walk. I hope you will agree.
First, I had a short visit with Luc, who was not in a chatty mood and remained hunkered down in the corner of his enclosure.
I mused at the size of this large and mottled-looking Sycamore leaf …
… comparing it to my foot.
I wandered over to the wooden overlook, just past Luc’s enclosure and the boathouse. The water levels were down and there was mud where previously marsh water had been. It has been like this all year, so it was nothing new, but still a bit shocking at first glance. You’ll see more pictures where the marsh is mostly dry as I progressed on this walk and in future posts as well.
I decided to walk to the boat launch area where perhaps the group of official migrating raptor counters might be and I’d get some shots of those big birds. Glancing back across the marsh, the leaf colors were not impressive at all. This is Luc’s enclosure and the boat house and its small overlook.
I meandered along this overlook …
… pausing to gaze at and take more pictures of the dried-up marsh from the right side of the overlook.
The cattails had begun bursting at the seams …
… and the head of this Phragmites reed was draped along the overlook railing.
Finally, I saw a spot of color in the distance and I knew just what tree it was, the gorgeous Maple near the boat launch area.
What was this – two Maple trees? I only remembered the one. A few spots of color near the long-dead trees was a welcome sight …
… and admittedly, the blue sky, clouds and dead trees reflecting on the other side of the marsh where there WAS water was scenic.
I was struck by the stark look of the dead trees against the blue sky …
… with this dead tree looking like its top branch was caught on a cotton ball.
At the boat launch area, I found only a couple of counters and the sky was devoid of raptors, but I sure was enamored with this gorgeous Maple tree, one of the two spotted earlier, just as I am every Fall. Is there any other tree as resplendent as a Maple cloaked in its peak foliage colors?
Moseying along the Cherry Island Trail.
Even though I did not encounter a single critter along this portion of the trail, I did see a little more color, some scraggly leaves climbing up tree trunks, even a little Poison Oak or Poison Ivy.
The Dogwood bush berries contrasted nicely with some of its leaves that had begun to turn red.
A Poplar leaf fluttered down to the ground as I exited the Cherry Island Trail and I couldn’t help but think “it seems like just yesterday I was seeing, then writing about, all the Cottonwood tree fuzz here in the Spring.”
Autumn is always over in a flash. Sigh.
On nearly every Autumn walk, or even in your own backyard, you’re sure to find a Woolly Bear Caterpillar inching its way across your path and this walk was no exception. A Woolly Bear Caterpillar will one day become a beautiful Isabella Tiger Moth, a beneficial pollinator.
The legend of the Woolly Bear is that the wider their body’s brown segment is, the milder the Winter. But, if the Woolly Bear has a wide black segment, it will be a bad Winter. The Old Farmer’s Almanac has written about this folklore for decades, but scientists dispel the myth, saying the coloring depends on what this caterpillar eats and/or other non-scientific phenomena. Here’s a short video that does a deeper dive.
I’m fond of this particular caterpillar with its very broad BROWN section, since the La Niña pattern for this Winter suggests the possibility of above-average precipitation and more active storm tracks. Oh no!!! We already had two little snow events last week and some ice too.
On Tuesday, November 11th, we pause to remember our brave veterans. Veterans Day is a day to honor all our military personnel who have served, whereas on Memorial Day we only honor our war dead. In today’s post I want to recognize the military personnel that did not return home in a casket, but sadly took their own life, after suffering from PTSD due to trauma experienced during their respective tours of duty.
This is the third year I have participated virtually in the annual Running to Honor 5K walk/run event at Heritage Park. Running to Honor was organized by a local veteran, Aaron Bartal, who served in the U.S. Army for six years and in 2019 created the first Running to Honor event, not only to memorialize comrades he lost on his Iraq tours, but also those military personnel that have died by their own hand after returning home. It may surprise you to learn that the U.S. loses 22 veterans daily to suicide, due to PTSD, some many years after their time served.
How I chose to honor the fallen.
This post is a bit more subdued than my usual posts about this venue …
… so, I’ll refrain from poking fun at the chickens that cross my path, or photographing the proud Canada Geese and Mallards with their young, or even telling a tale like the wily Seagull that swiped a fish right from under the noses, er … bills of the Cormorant and Heron.
Instead, I will fill this post with flowers, most of them red, white and blue and add in some photos taken by the event organizers on the day of the race.
However, I do confess I peeked in the rafters of the covered bridge for baby Barn Swallows and shaded my eyes from the sun to peer across Coan Lake for Mallard ducklings skimming across the surface of the water, but found neither. I did “double dip” on this walk to find a solitary Swallowtail Butterfly that flitted about the pinkish-purple Coneflowers in the perennial garden near the Old Log Cabin. I took some shots of that beautiful butterfly and will save those pics for mid-Winter when we will need a dose of Summer to soldier on through the balance of that season.
Running to Honor – 2025.
The event took place on Saturday, July 25th and, as in the past, I visited Heritage Park the day before to walk the course and take photos. This is a well-run event and there were many virtual participants from other states per Aaron Bartal’s Facebook posts.
Our swag arrived several weeks before, including the tee-shirt, finishing medal and bib with number.
First, I meandered over to the Francesca’s Heart sculpture found on the Conservatory grounds and, along the way, I dodged the automatic sprinklers that were on, something new that I have written about recently. I miss chatting it up with the friendly volunteers that were always hand watering and now I find myself shielding the camera with my hands, should a sudden burst of water from a nearby sprinkler drench us.
Francesca’s Heart sculpture was flanked by flowers.
It was sunny and the sun bouncing off the metal sculpture and the large, waxy Canna leaves had me taking a second shot from another angle to ensure at least one photo came out fine.
The red Cannas were vibrant and even though Cannas are considered Hummingbird magnets, there were no tiny visitors stopping by to sip from the blooms on that day.
At the sculpture were messages from the heart, or maybe I should say “heART”.
This sculpture was dedicated to Francesca Weatherhead, (née Vitale), a 25-year-old newlywed, tragically killed in 2014 by a parolee that was fleeing the police and broadsided her car.
In swerving and veering down another path to get from Point A to Point B without the camera or me getting wet, I found these red, white and blue flowers scattered in and around the Conservatory, the perfect accompaniment for this post.
The beautiful Snowball Bushes were not ready for primetime just yet.
Photos posted on the event’s Facebook site by Aaron Bartal.
There were many photos of the event, but I’ll just include a few here, like Aaron Bartal reading the names of the fallen soldiers that you will see pictured in the Field of Honor.
The Field of Honor, i.e. the flags and signs that honor the local soldiers that died, is arranged on the park grounds the evening before and an honor guard watches over them.
On the date of each fallen soldier’s death, Aaron Bartal also posts their photo and a remembrance on his Facebook site. On October 22nd, as Veterans Day neared, this message was posted:
I realize that I’ve inundated my blog with posts about this venue and, in reviewing my log of places visited/photographed in 2025, Heritage Park definitely topped the list many more times than Lake Erie Metropark, my usual frequent stomping grounds from Spring through Fall. But, by late July, there were lots of warnings on the news about ticks and an influx of visitors to the E.R.s, (some 61% more), to have embedded ticks removed. After getting the tick in my ear last year, even though I was lucky enough that it did not attach, I decided to play it safe and avoid the woodsy and rustic trails for a while, so tootling along the paved pathways here and at bigger parks with asphalt trails just made sense to me.
Event organizer Aaron Bartal reported that there were 700 in-person and virtual participants in this event and the number of youngsters participating grows from year to year. The oldest participant was 88 years old. The fastest runner was 16 years old with a time of 17 minutes and 6 seconds. The race registration fees and donations yielded $11,675.85, distributed to various local charities for veterans. I think this is a worthwhile endeavor and I plan to participate next year as well.
Note: I am not participating this week in Terri’s Photo Challenge: Leaf Peeping.
Instead I wanted to do this post for Veterans Day and Wednesday I will do a Wordless Wednesday post (pics) to remember the crew of the SS Edmund Fitzgerald that sank in Lake Superior during a bad storm 50 years ago tomorrow (11/10/75). I watched this documentary, a “backstory”, on this freighter, the storm and the crew and found it very interesting, so I thought I’d share this YouTube link. I’ve already shared it with my fellow Michigander bloggers over the weekend. It is a little over an hour long. Click here.
As Fall finally settles in and Winter looms large, how I long for Spring.
I will eagerly anticipate that morning walk in late March when I hear the first calls of the Red-winged Blackbirds as they return from their warm weather vacation. They will cling onto dilapidated cattails, their song pealing throughout Council Point Park and every marshy venue where I walk. This Red-winged Blackbird, sporting plumage that resembles dapper military attire, was in between songs, but he had been singing his heart out, with high hopes of landing a mate.
Sometimes, when it is cold, as those birds hit the high notes, tiny rings of condensation form around their beak, so their breath from a song looks like they are blowing smoke rings. When the Red-winged Blackbirds return to Southeast Michigan I know that soon the “early bloomers” will push through the still-cold soil and grace us with their pastel presence and the Forsythia bushes will compete with the dandelions, each vying for the title of “Most Vibrant Yellow”.
It’s been quite a year for me, from weathering the wiles of Mother Nature, to appreciating my wild and untamed fine-feathered friends, many which you’ve already met in this blog in 2025, with some adventures and photos that will continue to roll out in the coming months.
I’m sure the birds wish they could similarly turn back the hands of time and begin anew, like this Baltimore Oriole that was plucking plant fibers to start a nest back in late Spring.
I’d love to transport myself to that lovely Spring walk and extend it … forever – sigh.
While I want to say that I will quit whining about the weather, now that the long-range forecast predicts lots of snow for our region, that stat does NOT make my heart sing. I’m sure my feathered friends that choose to tough it out by overwintering here in Southeast Michigan will likewise not be singing their hearts out about that predicted plentiful precip.
Back on July 27th, I did a post entitled “Color my world” in which I told you how I began a long-awaited hobby, sketching and painting in watercolors, a pastime I dreamed about for decades, a hobby I intended to begin after retiring.
I have shared with you that my retirement aspirations changed a lot through the 50 years I worked, mostly because I could never have predicted the advent of the World Wide Web and just how it would impact my life. While working, I squirreled away lots of potential hobbies to do in my so-called “Golden Years” – most are still downstairs in Rubbermaid tubs … books, jigsaw puzzles, art materials, just to name a few.
When I was in my teens, one Summer I took a free charcoal sketching class offered by the City and decided this would be a fun hobby. My parents bought me some sketchbooks, charcoal pencils and pastel crayons, all which I have kept all these years …
… along with some how-to-draw books they bought to encourage that budding interest. My basement is a treasure trove of hobbies started throughout my life.
But, once school started and weekend chores got in the way, my time and sadly my enthusiasm for drawing dwindled.
Years later, after purchasing some Hallmark Christmas ornaments and greeting cards by Dutch artist Marjolein Bastin, my interest was again piqued to someday draw and paint similar nature scenes and creatures, but once again, I thought of this as a retirement hobby.
Fast forward a half-century + or – later.
I retired March 29, 2024 and I finally decided to take that sketching/painting plunge. I’d followed German artist Julia Bausenhardt’s blog and viewed her online tutorials on YouTube for several years, biding my time when I would start my own projects. I registered for an online class with Julia that included feedback on the assignments and it began April 28th. I loved that class and took another, then another. Those classes and the paintings prompted my July 27th post.
In that July 27th post, I showed you a drawing of a Blue Jay and said this would be my next painting after I learned more about sketching.
However, I have not returned to watercolor painting … just yet. No, I have not lost interest, but instead, when it finally cooled off a little, making long walks more tolerable, I seized each day and walked with the camera as much as possible. Winter will bring me more leisure time and I will once again pick up the paintbrush.
Yes, the Summer of 2025 was a pain!
For this walker, the seemingly endless days of heat, humidity, storms and wildfire smoke, wreaked havoc with my walking regimen. Undoubtedly, I could have been more productive inside the air-conditioned house, but inwardly I pouted about missing out on long walks with my camera.
Instead, over the course of a week or so, during those dreaded “Dog Days of Summer” I occupied my time sketching.
Julia offered these two tutorials.
So I sketched to my heart’s delight, hunkered down in the cool kitchen, various step-by-step tutorials up on the computer screen. I focused on learning details like feather formations, head shapes/profiles, bird anatomy, gestural movements, even how the shape/size of their feet affect how birds perch.
Happily, all my finished bird sketches did NOT look like the same bird – I hope you agree.
There are always new things to learn about any subject.
I found it interesting to learn there was a distinction between sketching and drawing, I know I’ve used these two words interchangeably long before my renewed interest in this hobby. Through Julia’s tutorials, I have learned that drawing is something that’s more focused, that you take your time with so your final product is much more refined, whereas sketching is looser and much less precise.
We began by drawing various circles and ellipticals, since basically bird shapes all begin there, plus we sketched a few odds and ends … hopefully you can distinguish the mushroom from the garlic.
In the “Posture and Proportions” and “Defining Angles of the Bird” portions of the course, Julia made it sound and look easy by having us sketch birds based on shapes, i.e. she told us when sketching a bird, you create a round ball for the head, an elliptical shape for the body, then a triangle for the wing(s), (especially if it is a side profile). The tail is a thin rectangle. There you have it, but there are details … there are always details, right?
Julia made a surprising statement early on in a sketching video. She said sketches should take no more than five or ten minutes to complete and stressed that such a lack of precise drawing might include squiggles, wavy lines and hash marks that would suffice as markings in the bird’s plumage. Hmm. I know my sketches took longer than five or ten minutes.
I have to admit two things: Julia’s squiggles, wavy lines and hash marks look much more realistic in her renderings than mine. I was reminded of the whimsical paintings that I shared with you in my July 27th post, because some of those paintings looked whimsical, though they were NOT intended to be whimsical at all. 🙂
Since the course covered bird anatomy, Julia gave us detailed illustrations of the eye, feather structure, even how a bird’s skeleton looks. I previously assumed all bird’s feet were similar, but learned differently in the videos.
Something I never noticed before, not only in conjunction with birdwatching, but also having parakeets and canaries as pets through the years, is that a bird’s back toe has only one bone, as opposed to the other toes, thus that back toe and its claw never curl around a branch or perch. Who knew?
Julia draws the feet of a perching bird.
Julia’s illustrations of bird foot anatomy.
Soon we were into the nitty-gritty of bird sketching.
Kingfishers are beautiful birds. I’ve only seen one and it was so far away, the camera captured a tiny blob on a branch. Kingfishers are adept at catching fish as you see in the slideshow below.
When we finished the Kingfisher series, Julia suggested doing another drawing, this time in colored pencil. Note: our North American Kingfishers do not have this coloring.
You’ve seen pictures of the Double-crested Cormorant from my shoreline walks. Yes, they are not the prettiest water birds, but they sure are easily identifiable by their hooked bill and wide, webbed feet. And, if those two attributes don’t identify a Cormorant at a glance, its stance with outstretched wings, looking like a vampire (or a flasher), will be a clue in identifying this bird
The Downy Woodpecker is the tiniest of our Woodpeckers.
Behold the lowly Sparrow, a bird of which we have plenty here in Southeast Michigan. There are 20+ species of them in this state, but the most common are the Song Sparrow and White-throated Sparrow. Many people refer to Sparrows as “Brown Bombers” so here are a few of my Brown Bombers. Imagine them singing their sweet song.
After I finished Julia’s classes, I decided to kick it up a notch.
I paged through the Charles Tunnicliffe book Mom bought me, which has been sitting on the living room coffee table for eons, … well twenty years to be exact.
Mom’s intention with this 2005 Christmas present was helping me to reinvigorate that interest, but as usual, work and other obligations crowded into that passion.
Well, the author makes the simple sketches look so easy here … a couple of pencil strokes, a dab of color here and there …
… and, because there were many simple sketches throughout the book – I tried a few of them – back to the ol’ drawing board as the expression goes.
I tried to replicate the artist’s sketches but did not do so well. I have a way to go yet.
I have a few larger drawings I now need to paint once the snow flies.
I’m going to continue to learn more with Julia. I do prefer the step-by-step tutorials with a little guidance.
I saw this quote awhile back and tucked it away – it’s perfect as we ease into the gray and gloom of Fall and Winter.
I am joining Terri’s Challenge this week which is“Hooves and Claws”. And, I will also have a photo for the “Hooves” portion on Wednesday, so please stay tuned.
Linda Schaub
WALKIN', WRITIN', WIT & WHIMSY 