WALKIN', WRITIN', WIT & WHIMSY

Grandparents Day 2025.

Posted on September 7, 2025 by Linda Schaub

**1983 – Minnie Goddard in her backyard.**

Once a year, I devote a post to honoring my maternal grandmother, Wilhemina “Minnie” Goddard. Sure, I often mention “Nanny” (my name for her from when I was a toddler up to her death in January 1986), but, for the occasion of Grandparents Day, I like to recount special, or even fun, memories of her, like I will do today. Sadly I know that one day my well of reminiscences will eventually run dry.

**1983 – Nanny and I in her backyard with her Roses.**

Grandparents Day is basically a Hallmark-type holiday and originated after a young boy named Russell Capper, sent a letter to President Nixon with a simple request to celebrate grandparents one day a year. So, Grandparents Day is now celebrated the first Sunday after Labor Day.

My blog is filled with references to Nanny’s green thumb and her love of flowers and my own garden from back in the day as well. These days I am less enthusiastic to welcome anyone into my backyard – my rosebushes are the only blooms that remain from my gardening heyday because everything was lost to the ravages of Mother Nature, i.e. first a Polar Vortex, then a windstorm that caused a downed wire fire that finished off the back garden and part of the side garden. Up until these disastrous events, I was proud to tell anyone and everyone that I inherited my beloved grandmother’s green thumb, though her skills with houseplants far exceeded mine.

**1984 – Nanny, Muffin and I in her backyard with her Hollyhocks.**

**1985 – Nanny and Muffin in her backyard with her Irises.**

So did Nanny share her secret for those prolific blooms with me?

Nanny was a kindly soul with a big heart. She was not a penny pincher, but also not reckless with her money either – after all she was old enough, at 23 years old, to remember the Great Depression of 1929. She saved and re-used tin foil, wrapping paper and bows and was resourceful. However, one day a neighbor down the street knocked on her front door and told Nanny he had a “big venture” going on, but he needed a handful of investors to make it work. He presented the details, then finally asked if she would be interested in becoming a partner. After hearing him out, she agreed and parted with some cash to become a proud, part owner of a worm farm. Yes, a worm farm.

So here’s the “dirt” on that venture.

As an investor only, Nanny did none of the work. The gentleman purchased all the necessary trappings to raise earthworms, but the worms were not raised to sell as bait to local fishermen as one might suspect, but instead he collected the worm manure, bagged it, then sold this product as a rich additive to flower and vegetable gardens. On a visit to Toronto to visit my grandmother, she proudly handed me two, one-pound bags of pure worm manure and assured me my annuals would bloom brighter, last longer and I would be the talk of the neighborhood.

Hmm – so was this a “dirty deal” of sorts?

Mom, ever the skeptic, asked my grandmother about that investment and also how one could differentiate between worm manure and the ordinary soil where the worms lived? Sheepishly my grandmother admitted it might not be possible to do so, but did not feel she had been scammed. Mom remained dubious, but who could fault this well-meaning woman for helping out a neighbor in need? After all, Nanny never hesitated to open up her pocketbook to friends or relatives who needed money and/or were down on their luck.

As we packed up to return home on Sunday morning, I remember Mom cautioning me “Linda, don’t pack those worm manure bags near any of our food!” After we moved to the U.S., every trip back to Toronto meant we bought a few food finds only available in Canada to bring back home.

The worm manure business folded soon thereafter. Likely, Nanny did NOT reap the rewards for her investment in this business venture. I fertilized my flowers with the two bags of worm manure and took photos to share with Nanny after proclaiming that my annuals were perky and gargantuan through October that year – heck, a little white lie never hurt anyone.

P.S. – For many years, before I had access to the World Wide Web, like Mom, I believed that the worm manure biz was a scam, however, many years after both Nanny and Mom were gone, by accident I learned that worm manure, a/k/a worm castings, was indeed a “thing” and a coveted item for one’s plants. Who knew?

I hope my story brought a smile to your face.

Happy Grandparents Day if it applies to you.

Terri has no Sunday Stills Photo Challenge this week.

Posted in Flowers, Memories | Tagged Flowers, Grandparents Day, Memories | 68 Comments

School daze are back. #Wordless Wednesday #Query: would this be an institute of higher learning? #Goose on the loose at the Little Red Schoolhouse in Heritage Park.

Posted on September 3, 2025 by Linda Schaub

Wordless Wednesday – allow your photo(s) to tell the story.

Posted in #WildlifeWednesday, #Wordless Wednesday, nature | Tagged #WildlifeWednesday, #Wordless Wednesday, nature | 59 Comments

What I did on my Summer Vacation – by Linda Schaub.

Posted on August 31, 2025 by Linda Schaub

When I was young, in the weeks preceding Labor Day weekend, Mom would give me a nudge, a gentle reminder to start thinking about one of the first class assignments for the new school year: “What I did on my Summer Vacation.”

We always started school the Tuesday after Labor Day. I’d begin the school year wearing new duds and still-pristine and unscuffed Mary Janes or penny loafers.

This was me on my first day of kindergarten, September 5, 1961.

In those days we didn’t need a backpack, just a scribbler, or a fresh ream of looseleaf paper, a three-ring binder and a pencil case. We carried our schoolbooks in the crook of our arm and toted a brown bag lunch.

To be honest, by Labor Day, I was ready to get back to the routine as I loved school, despite enjoying countless hours playing outside with friends and blissful evening nights sitting on the front porch with my parents while catching fireflies in a Mason jar.

So anyway, I would be thinking about my story and what I would write about the vacation memories, whether local or afar, as to our family’s annual respite from everyday life in the ‘60s. Vacation time for us was always the beginning of July, coinciding with two weeks of plant shutdown.

Wherever we went, there were always photos taken to memorialize the trip. Unlike today, when traveler’s photos may number in the hundreds, even thousands, thanks to digital cameras/phones, I remember usually only one roll of vacation film being mailed off for processing and it might have included Christmas images as well. It took up to a month before the pictures were returned and we’d gather around, oohing and aahing over them.

I’m changing things up a bit this year ….

Every year around Labor Day I blog about beginning my walking regimen over the 2011 long holiday weekend. Then I tell you how I am progressing toward my year-end walking miles goal.

But today, instead of writing about how I roll on my stroll, I’m going to take another stroll down Memory Lane, specifically as our family rolled along Route 66 in 1962 and 1965 respectively.

This post was prompted by fellow blogger Diane’s ongoing series of posts every Wednesday about a trip taken out west with her husband Terry earlier this year. Diane has regaled her readers with pictures of tourist attractions and unique stops along Route 66. Their travels took them via U.S. Highway 66, a/k/a the iconic Route 66, which roadway goes from Chicago, Illinois to Santa Monica, California. Route 66’s main moniker is “The Mother Road” and was once known as “America’s most-famous road” and covers a total of 2,448 miles (3,940 km). Did you know it is also known as “Will Rogers Highway” – well now you do.

So, do you think that construction and all those orange cones were going on from Spring through Fall back in the day like it is now – if so, UGH!

I was six when I first got my kicks on Route 66.

My father had a job interview in Oklahoma City, Oklahoma in 1962 and another interview in Redwood City, California in 1965. He didn’t get either job, but applied to transfer from Ford Motor Company’s Oakville, Ontario plant to their Woodhaven, Michigan plant and got that job – we moved to the States in July 1966.

Just an Oakville miss and Tilda Jane, her favorite dolly …

… traveling to Oklahoma City, Oklahoma, an adventure in a VW Beetle with no A/C. One by one, every Summer, each of my gang of playmates disappeared for a week or two for vacation with their respective families. We’d say “see ya later alligator” and they’d reply “in a while crocodile!” This time it was my turn.

This trip was tainted by a bad camping experience the first night.

The backstory on that ordeal was my father thought it would be fun to camp along the way back and forth to Oklahoma and near any tourist attractions we visited. Mom was not keen on that idea and of course, I had no say in that decision. Dad was gung ho on buying the tent, sleeping bags/air mattresses and miscellaneous and sundry camping paraphernalia, but Mom suggested nicely that before spending a lot of money on camping equipment, perhaps we could rent the tent, buy our own sleeping bags and air mattresses and try out camping that way.

The first night, right after the tent was pitched, it poured raining. The tent leaked like a sieve and tempers flared as we huddled inside and watched pools of water everywhere. Mom said “we’re not doing this the entire trip – we’re staying in a motel!” We kept the Coleman cooler and camp stove (never to be used again); the rest of our camping gear was left at the campground dump. The wet tent had to be returned to the sporting goods store, so a new tarp was bought, the tent rolled into it and that bundle occupied the back seat next to me for the next two weeks as Dad didn’t want to put it in the car trunk.

In between the interview, stops for gas and food, we did fit in some sightseeing, tailored mostly to little ol’ me.

In preparing this post, I scoured the internet to see if I could figure out what tourist attraction featured a bucking bronco (pictured in the header image and below) to no avail. Was this place now one of the many ghost towns along Route 66? It was a hoot dressing in chaps, donning my cowgirl hat and posing on my horse for both of these photos.

City girl meets a few farm animals.

I also remember going to this place where they had some farm animals …

… and a chicken that fascinated me as it strutted along the bars of a huge xylophone and used its beak to peck out musical tunes. What no picture?

There was a graveyard with these two headstones …

… which I thought a search of Google images might enlighten me where this was – no luck, but there are a lot of fake headstones like this that I found. Away from the graveyard was a door and my father managed to get part of Mom, me and the antlers in the picture with this nondescript door.

Sometimes it was just nice to sit on a rock by the water …

… but where was this sunhat so you didn’t get sunburned near the water?

For miles and miles, we saw nothing but oil derricks.

As we traveled through Missouri, I remember we stopped at the famous Meramec Caverns. I’m sure there are no photos since it was too dark inside. I learned that Missouri has the largest portion of Route 66, some 400 miles through that state.

We always looked for the Sinclair gas stations whenever we needed to “gas up” which appealed to the six-year-old me as I was a big fan of the TV show “The Flintstones” and “Dino” the family’s pet dinosaur.

Well, we made it home safely – on today’s map it looks like it would have been about 2,500 miles/4,000 km roundtrip, though I wouldn’t know how many side trip miles were expended along the way.

Road Trip! California, here I, er … WE come!

In the Summer of 1965, we traveled to Redwood City, California for another job interview. Gone was the VW Beetle, replaced with a bigger car, a Ford Meteor. Thankfully there was a larger trunk, so suitcases and other travel paraphernalia could be stored there, leaving the entire back seat for my nine-year-old self to lounge on while we made that 6,000-mile/10,000 km round trip. Again, we made side trips so who knows how many extra miles we racked up in the space of two weeks’ time.

So, did I dare ask my folks “are we there yet?”

If I did so, it was because of the awful plastic seat covers that Dad insisted on using to preserve the car seats. You can see them on the Meteor’s front seat in this photo.

Believe me, they were in the back seat too, but I had a wool blanket stretched out on the seat, to keep my legs from sticking to the plastic, but, as the temps got hotter and hotter, I was not sure which was the most annoying, sweltering from the wool blanket or sticking to the seat.

With regard to sweltering in the heat, as we made our way along Route 66 to California, Dad was the sole driver and he drove with his left elbow resting on the window well, his arm clad in short sleeves, fully exposed to the sun. The blistering heat as we crossed through New Mexico and Arizona caused sun poisoning and a huge blister formed, the size of a saucer, thus necessitating an emergency trip to the E.R. to have that blister taken care of.

Mom was the map reader like before. It seemed the map was unfurled several times during the day, for gas fill-ups, food or snacks and wherever we would spend the night. Did Mom get tripped up while scrutinizing our routes if there was construction along the way? I know arguments often ensued and I recall Mom poring over the map in the motel room as well. Unfortunately, 60 years ago there was no GPS to tell you what areas to avoid due to construction.

Mom got a break from cooking, which pleased her; me … well, I was just excited for the breakfast buffet that usually came with each motel stay. How fun to have pancakes for breakfast every day, or have a single-serving box of sugary cereal, the latter not allowed at home as “it’ll rot your teeth!”

We also visited the Hoover Dam …

… which was quite a sight to see. Mom’s Baby Brownie camera got these photos.

There were a few color photos as well in this album taken with Dad’s Leica 35mm camera, like me in my “awning top” looking ever so cute (NOT) in front of the Snow White Grotto at Disneyland, in Anaheim, California.

Mom got pickpocketed with her wallet “lifted” while we were walking through the throngs of people at Disneyland, despite holding her handbag close to her side.

I’m not sure where this picture was taken, but I’m glad I ditched the cat-eye glasses and headband for this shot. 🙂

We also visited Marineland of the Pacific …

… then all too soon, it was time to retrace our steps and head home – another 3,000 miles/4,800 km or more.

I’m glad Mom sat down with me when I compiled this trip album with photos from years ago. I would not have known about the trip’s particulars had she not identified pictures and given me a backstory on the good, the bad and the ugly as we rolled along Route 66.

If you’re still with me, thank you. I am joining Terri’s Challenge this week: “Things under Construction”.

All photos are my own, except the Route 66 images and Sinclair Gas logo which I purchased on Etsy.

Posted in #Sunday Stills Challenge, Memories, Travels Thru the Years, | Tagged #Sunday Stills Challenge, Memories, Travel Thru the Years | 74 Comments

Not everyone rises and shines! #Wordless Wednesday #This Mallard obviously lacks a “having your ducks in a row” mindset!

Posted on August 27, 2025 by Linda Schaub

Wordless Wednesday – allow your photo(s) to tell the story.

Posted in #WildlifeWednesday, #Wordless Wednesday, birds, nature | Tagged #WildlifeWednesday, #Wordless Wednesday, birds, Mallard Duck, nature | 30 Comments

As the Fuzz Flies …

Posted on August 24, 2025 by Linda Schaub

… (hmm, this title kind of reads like a daytime soap opera).

This post is about a trip to Lake Erie Metropark on June 1^st. My three-hour visit yielded a lot of photos after a slow start; eventually I returned home with a treasure trove of shots, some which I’ve already shared with you for Wordless Wednesday posts, like the turtles with peeling shells, the Mute Swans with their cygnets and even more magical moments with a doe.

It was day three of hazy skies from the Canadian wildfires. Weather forecasters promised our milky-looking skies would clear up by mid-afternoon, but I’m not a fan of walking in the afternoon heat, so I set out anyway.

It’s a good thing I made that decision, even though I had just been to this park over Memorial Day weekend, (a trip not shared with you yet), because, even though with seemingly endless Spring and Summer days ahead, unbelievably, I would NOT return here until July 21^st, due to the hot and humid weather, rain/storms and air quality alerts from wildfire smoke.

Gone with the Wind (no, not the movie).

But first, an explanation of my post’s title. Poplar trees are plentiful here in Southeast Michigan, Cottonwoods, a type of Poplar, in particular. I’ve often written about the Cottonwood trees’ fluffy seeds littering the park trails every May and June. While I usually would not disparage females, in this case, those cotton-like seeds are produced solely by female Cottonwood trees.

These fluffy fibers glom onto everything and land everywhere, especially onto A/C unit grilles if the air conditioner is running, thus necessitating frequent hose-downs to avoid clogging up the A/C grille.

While this fluffy stuff may resemble snow when it outlines park walking trails and sidewalks in the ‘hood, at larger parks with lots of Cottonwood trees, you might find a scenario like the featured image or this photo.

Here I am writing about the Cottonwood seeds/fluff and the Cottonwood trees are already dropping their yellow, heart-shaped leaves along the trails. That is not because of our hot Summer – this routinely occurs by late August when Cottonwoods drop their leaves to conserve water. These fallen leaves ensure the Cottonwood tree has extra water to send to its roots to prepare for the long Winter ahead.

On that June 1^st walk, it was not just the Cottonwood fuzz flying about, but marsh cattails that burst last Fall were still standing tall and laden with fuzz. By the way, after the female cattail matures, it dries out and the outer layers of the seed head begin to separate and burst into fluffy fibers.

That’s enough female bashing for now! 🙂

My main objective that day was to find and photograph babies.

Would 2025 be the year Mr. and Mrs. Sandhill Crane produced a “colt” (the term for Sandhill Crane offspring)? I pulled into the Offshore Fishing parking lot, glanced around and saw no sign of the pair, nor any waterfowl activity, so I didn’t even bother to park the car.

I drove to Cove Point, intent on finding Tree Swallows with their respective broods occupying the many Bluebird nesting boxes along the shoreline, but had no success there either.

After a mile-long walk enroute to the Osprey platform nest, evidently the couple was out to brunch. Should I await their return or were they playing games again, by flying farther away, thus teasing any photo op hopes I might have? I saw no Osprey chicks bobbing their heads above the nest, beaks open for fish bits, so I walked back to the car, feeling a wee bit dejected. I hoped it wouldn’t be one of THOSE days as to nature photography. (As you have seen in the past, this park’s Osprey clan seem to despise this particular photographer.)

Would the Cherry Island Trail have photo ops – maybe babies?

I stopped to take some wildflower photos – you may recognize these flowers, but if not, I’ve captioned them for you.

As I went to step onto the wooden overlook where I could survey the marsh for Herons and Egrets, suddenly there was rustling in the bushes and seconds later I had a face-to-face encounter with a beautiful doe. She was only a few feet away and I fumbled to grab my digital compact camera out of my pocket to take a picture. While the doe didn’t flinch at that movement, she didn’t exactly say “take your time deer, er … dear” either, as she peacefully continued munching leaves.

So, I got this shot just in time …

… as she soon loped away, with me in pursuit, two long-legged gals on the run. She found an area where no photographers lurked and she could finish her meal in peace.

Wow! I was a wee bit starstruck by this up-close encounter and hoped there would be more delightful happenings on the trail. I was reminded of the phrase “good things come to those who wait.”

Yep, a Gull’s gotta eat too.

After the doe disappeared into the woods, I retraced my steps on the road to get to the overlook. In the distance I watched a few Ring-billed Seagulls swooping down to the road, heads bent with some occasional screeching, so Your Roving Reporter hustled over to investigate. I’ve not seen many Seagulls in the last few years. I don’t know where they are, but they are certainly not as plentiful along the shorelines as in the past.

As I neared the gulls, all but one flew off and I regretted seeing the very-bloated spoils of two fish. It appeared from the size of the fish that a kindly angler had left behind a feast for the gulls and feast they did …

… savoring that fish between screeches, even looking up to the sky, perhaps to summon their brethren to the fish feast, something akin to a dinner bell? These were my favorites of the 30+ shots I took – hold the lemon and tartar sauce please!

Back on the overlook (after my stomach stopped churning).

There were the usual Egret and Heron suspects fishing in the marsh.

This Egret looked regal next to the Mallard that floated by.

Then a Great Blue Heron suddenly took flight and I feared I’d spooked it. Evidently it spied a fish, however, it landed clumsily and lost its balance. The Heron got its fish, after dunking its head to retrieve it and ending up with a punk-look ‘do for its effort. That fish was pitifully small, one gulp and it was gone. The Heron had an attitude as I took these shots.

However, a Red-winged Blackbird was more than willing to pose …

… so I took him up on his offer.

First, he posed on the overlook railing, then on a snag – what a pro!

When my feathered friend moved over to a group of spent cattails, I followed him where he erupted into song over and over again.

And on that happy note, I left and continued on the Cherry Island Trail where I didn’t see a single soul, critter or otherwise.

I am joining Terri’s Sunday Still Challenge: Trees.

Posted in #Sunday Stills Challenge, birds, nature, walk, walking | Tagged #Sunday Stills Photo Challenge, nature, Trees, walk, walking | 66 Comments

“We can never have enough of nature.” ~Henry David Thoreau #Wordless Wednesday #Simply stunning American Lotuses

Posted on August 20, 2025 by Linda Schaub

Wordless Wednesday – allow your photo(s) to tell the story.

Posted in #WildlifeWednesday, #Wordless Wednesday, Flowers, nature | Tagged #WildlifeWednesday, #Wordless Wednesday, American Lotus, Flowers, nature | 50 Comments

The third time was the charm.

Posted on August 17, 2025 by Linda Schaub

Finally, after a myriad of funky weather events in June and July, Monday, July 21^st was the perfect day for a woodsy walk and I hoped to fill my photo card with a few Osprey offspring pics before they fledged. The moon and stars were aligned in my favor with a gentle breeze, no rain and a blue sky with zero wildfire smoke.

My plan was to revisit the Osprey platform nest near Lake Erie Metropark’s Marina and photograph the pair’s offspring. I didn’t have to guess whether the chicks had arrived because a local photographer in the Huron-Clinton Metropark Photography Group I follow on Facebook had already captured several images of the parents and their three chicks, so I decided I’d best get there before the trio fledged.

As I passed the Brownstown Township satellite fire station near the park’s entrance, I stole a glance to see if any Osprey parents and/or offspring were in that nest that they build every year in the fire station’s siren. Since the nest was unoccupied, I just rolled on.

Just a mile or so down the road was the turn for the Metropark Marina. The Osprey platform is on the corner of Lee and Milleville Roads, but I always park at the Marina. As I drove past, the nest was empty, so I mumbled “wait, are you telling me I just drove 15 miles to see an empty nest?! Surely they couldn’t have fledged already!”

Admittedly, it’s not like they left a sign “letting the kids try out their wings with flying lessons – back in a bit!”

So, I asked myself “should I stay or should I go?”

Patience is a virtue.

Well, I was content to wait – how long could they be gone anyway? I mean, did the entire family have to go at one time? Well, evidently so, as I waited 10-15 minutes with no sign of any Osprey. As I walked back to the car, however, a lone Osprey was winging its way back to the nest, circling overhead, but flew away again.

Birds of a feather flock together …

… (whether huddled together in a nest or carved into wood).

Having failed at Osprey sightings twice, my next ace in the hole was a few miles away, the Pointe Mouillee DNR Headquarters.

This place is out in the sticks and I arrived after turning left, then enduring a two-mile ride down a bumpy road. I parked, then glanced over at the Osprey platform. Whew! There WAS activity in the nest, so I retrieved the camera and set out on my mission.

But first I chatted it up with a few landscapers who were busy mulching and planting around this beautiful wood carving of birds, so I complimented them on their work thus far. I learned that a wood carver took an existing tree at the DNR Headquarters and carved it as you see below. I’ve included close-ups of the detail.

You can see the base of the tree trunk in this photo.

Here’s a look from afar. This wooden frame will display a sign for all the members of the Ducks Unlimited Group who have passed away.

I was told the carved tree and plaque will formally be revealed at the 77th annual Pointe Mouillee Waterfowl Festival held September 13th and 14^th.

I searched for info on the wood carver or the finished work, but could find no info currently on the DNR Headquarters site or anywhere else – perhaps we’ll find out after the big reveal at the Waterfowl Festival.

The awesome Osprey family.

As I neared the nesting platform, an Osprey flew overhead and plopped into the nest. I chastised myself for being so chatty as I might have gotten a shot of the Osprey diving for a fish and/or carrying it in its talons.

Well, here we go again with a missed shot … “the one that got away!”

But the landscapers were so friendly and I enjoyed speaking to them and learning about the carving. At least I got to watch the family chowing down, most likely on a fish. In a lot of my shots, their heads were bent down or there were too many bodies at one place. It wasn’t always a feeding frenzy however, but I got a few shots of the offspring being fed.

Ruffled feathers – two kinds!

For weeks on end, it was windy here in the Mitten State. It seemed every trip to a shoreline park meant planting my feet wide apart, to get a firm stance in an effort to keep the camera steady. But shortly after I arrived here, the wind picked up – grrr! The breeze tickled the feathers of these raptors, but my feathers were similarly ruffled as I called up to the nest “why can’t everyone separate for a few minutes so I can get a nice group shot?”

But that question posed was met with a stony glare.

… or they simply looked the other way.

Nope, they did me no favors, continuing to hunch down with their brunch.

Perhaps these few steely gazes …

… would have translated to “do you like your meal interrupted Linda?”

There was a bit of vocalizing as well …

… yep, if Mama ain’t happy, ain’t nobody happy! 🙂

I’ve come to the conclusion that there is a lot of staring and glaring going on with these Osprey types.

I saw a few Dragonflies, but they were way too quick for me to photograph. A Killdeer was running around the parking lot at breakneck speed and a Seagull and an Osprey were shooting daggers at one other from their respective poles. You’ve met these critters in my recent Wordless Wednesday posts.

Admittedly, there is not much to see at this venue. I wandered over to the water’s edge to look at the American Lotus plants. In 2024, at every venue visited in July and August, I brought back lots of photos of these beautiful blooms. It was a good thing I took these photos since the Lotus beds at Lake Erie Metropark are problematic this year and have not produced at all according to a park ranger.

I’ll have more photos of the DNR Headquarter’s blooms in this week’s Wordless Wednesday.

I left and headed back to Lake Erie Metropark in search of Barn Swallows chattering on the old dead tree, but they were MIA. I’ll write about that walk separately.

P.S. – Later that day, one photographer at the Huron-Clinton Metropark Photography site proudly posted a “family photo” of the parents and three offspring he had captured at Lee Road near the Lake Erie Metropark Marina earlier that day.

So they WERE winging their way around the Park for flying and/or hunting lessons.

Sigh … you win some, you lose some.

I am joining Terri’s Sunday Stills Challenge: “Wings and Feathers”.

Posted in #Sunday Stills Challenge, birds, nature, walk, walking | Tagged #Sunday Stills Challenge, birds, nature, Osprey, walk, walking | 77 Comments

“Hey Buddy, let’s swap poles!” # Wordless Wednesday # “I guess that’s a ‘no’?”

Posted on August 13, 2025 by Linda Schaub

Wordless Wednesday – allow your photo(s) to tell the story.

Posted in #WildlifeWednesday, #Wordless Wednesday, birds, nature | Tagged #WildlifeWednesday, #Wordless Wednesday, birds, nature, Osprey, Ring-billed Seagull | 31 Comments

“The Earth is what we all have in common.” – Wendell Berry

Posted on August 10, 2025 by Linda Schaub

I chose the above quote by environmentalist Wendell Berry as the title for today’s post because, in an ever-changing world chock-full of disparagement and dissension, perhaps this is a statement we can all agree on.

This walk happened on Earth Day, April 22, 2025. The entire week was picture-perfect weather-wise and by week’s end I had visited all my favorite venues.

I decided Earth Day merited a meander at Humbug Marsh at the Detroit River International Wildlife Refuge (“DRIWR”). You may recall I’ve told you how the entire area was remediated from former industrial brownfields and polluted areas, transforming it into restored habitats. The Humbug Unit of the DRIWR is the last undeveloped coastal wetland along the U.S. portion of the Detroit River.

But the primary reason I was visiting that day was to see the Killdeer nests scattered in a grassy area away from the hubbub of Humbug Marsh, the Korneffel Fishing Pier and the Visitor Center. Since I follow the DRIWR on social media, a post alerted us to the multiple Killdeer nests, (a/k/a “scrapes”), each with a tall orange flag near them, to hopefully avoid accidental crushing of the eggs. Killdeer are ground nesters and both parents incubate the clutch of four, tan-colored eggs. I wanted to see the nests and photograph them.

You couldn’t miss the flagged areas, eight in all, near the overflow parking lot.

I stopped here first, content to grab a few photos of a nest. I was surprised that the contents of each nest were identical, i.e. four, tan speckled eggs, all tipped upright. Here are two of the eight nests; see how they blend in with the brown twigs and small rocks?

Having secured these shots, I planned to step back from the nesting area. But, would my very presence trigger a Killdeer adult to dissuade me from getting close to a nest by feigning a broken wing?

Sure enough, moments later one Killdeer parent began feigning the broken wing scenario in earnest, even though I really was not close to its nest and I have no clue which nest belonged to this bird.

You may recall my earlier post from Mother’s Day about the Killdeer and its actions, with more photos and a video. Here is that post in case you missed it.

I didn’t want to create disharmony here, especially on Earth Day, so I moved along, much to the delight of the Killdeer parent which “miraculously” flew away, but still monitored my movements from afar.

It had been a while since my last visit.

When I arrived, I couldn’t help but notice the huge flag at half-staff due to the passing of Pope Francis the day before. Pope Francis championed multiple causes and broke ranks in many instances and, if you didn’t know, he stood for climate justice.

Korneffel Fishing Pier.

I walked the 700-foot (213 meters) Korneffel Fishing Pier to see if there were any Cormorants. These seabirds like roosting in the dead trees across from the fishing pier – nope, zero Cormorants, nor were they out on the water perched on a log.

Anglers lined the fishing pier, which is not unusual in the Spring when the Walleye and Silver Bass are running.

Look at all the boats in the water – I had to take two shots to get all the boats in!

The water here is very clear, so the shorebirds would have no problem spotting fish as they cruised overhead, but there were no seagulls swooping down here – perhaps they thought the fisherman would share their fish with them?

The Monguagon Delta.

Next, I headed to the long Monguagon  Boardwalk over the Monguagon Delta.

Pausing midway, I was disappointed because no Herons or Egrets were fishing.

The Refuge was still wearing its blah, Winter-weary look, brownish-colored grass and weather-beaten cattails, with little green to be found. Dried Phragmites reeds rustled in the breeze …

… rising up from the Delta area which had a surprisingly low water level. We’d had a lot of ice and snow – where did it all go?

There was nothing to see here, so I retraced my steps and headed to the woods.

A walk through the forest.

The Old Growth Forest is a wooded area consisting of 32 acres of very old trees, some over 300 centuries old. These are some of the Shagbark Hickories.

There were no frogs bobbing around in the Vernal Pool as that area was totally dried up.

Hmm – so far, but for the Killdeer experience, I was definitely striking out critter-wise, but I was happy for no Eastern Fox Snake encounters – whew!

Luckily, the good weather meant no muddy feet once I stepped off the walkway. At the end of the trail, there is another overlook at the marsh; often the Herons and Egrets are fishing there, but perhaps the shallow water deterred them. Usually, this water laps right up to the overlook.

I walked both the Orange and Green Trails, 2.7 miles (4.3 kms.) altogether.

I vowed to return when the leaves unfurled and the entire area greened up a little more and …

… the dull browns of early Spring had vanished.

There were a few spots of color, however. The mosaics at the back of the Visitor Center, are comprised of beach glass that has been embedded into the cement and is designed to capture the sun’s rays onto the glass, creating a wavy, ripple effect that mimics the sparkling colors of the Detroit River on a sunny day.

Postscript: I returned here a month later (as well as visiting the other two venues where I had taken photos of the three “Mamas-to-be” and their nests). I found young families of geese at those respective venues and, as to these eight Killdeer nests, I’m not sure where all the floofy-looking babies went, but I did see this inquisitive cutie-pie with a raggedy-looking tail, which may have been a Juvenile.