“Morning Has Broken” – by Marge Aubin, taken at Bishop Park on 09/29/13
Today is the fifth anniversary of my friend Marge Aubin’s passing. I want to honor her memory, not only as a good friend and former neighbor, but also, as many of you longtime followers know, she is the person who encouraged me to start this blog in 2013.
To be honest, I really was not enthused about starting a blog, but did so because she persisted, nudging me on a near-daily basis by flooding my e-mail inbox with links to blogs she followed. I finally relented to keep the peace and make her happy. Marge’s reasoning for me to start a blog about walking was my responses to her daily e-mail queries of “what did you see or do on your walk today Linda?” I would dutifully “report” on something I saw in the ‘hood that day, or, after uploading photos taken on my morning walks, I’d forward them to Marge. In those days I had not yet discovered my favorite nature nook, Council Point Park – that would happen a few months later, in the Spring of 2013.
So, here’s a belated “thank you” and a nod to Marge for being a pain in the butt about beginning this blog.
Unlike the sad tribute I wrote with eyes blurred by tears on the date of her passing, this post will be a light-hearted reflection of some shared memories we had before her chronic COPD and heart issues kept her tethered to her oxygen tank the final few years of her life.
But I had a conundrum – what photo should I use for today’s post?
Just like my fellow bloggers, this blog is a labor of love. I’m often thinking of places I want to go, pictures I want to take, or jotting down headlines or notes about where I’ve been after returning from a walk. Yes, a blogger’s brain gears are always spinning.
At first, I thought the perfect way to memorialize Marge was to simply take my own trip to Bishop Park to watch the sun rise and photograph it, like my good friend did every day for many years, but I admit that leaving at dark o’clock to steal down to the Detroit River is out of my comfort zone these days. My worries are not unfounded as crime is running rampant in the Downriver area, even in beautiful Downtown Wyandotte, the site of Bishop Park.
Between the years 1976 through 2009, I finished my last two years of college in Midtown Detroit, then worked in the City of Detroit. Neighbors saw me walking to and from the bus stop during those years and would say “aren’t you afraid to go Downtown?” I was not afraid as I was always mindful of my surroundings and, in over three decades, there was only one incident that unnerved me a bit, when I was pushed off a City of Detroit bus in broad daylight when I asked the driver to stop. In the Wintertime, just like most of you, I left for work in the dark and came home in the dark. I didn’t even carry pepper gel, nor a big whistle in those days. But leaving the house in pitch dark does NOT appeal to me now and I finally decided I was NOT going to leave before dawn to go to the Detroit River. Perhaps working from home all these years has made me more wary than usual.
If my good friend Ann Marie reads this post, she will say “I’m hurt you didn’t ask me to pick you up and take you to the River because I know how important Marge was to you.” Ann Marie brought me flowers after Marge died – she is a person with a heart of gold, an exceptional soul who goes out of her way to help people. Yes, she will be angry with me. But, nevertheless I didn’t ask her.
In further pondering the photo to use for today’s post, my next idea was “how wonderful to use the watercolor paints and to try and paint Marge’s sunrise for the header image!” But no, my lackluster or lame effort would fall short of my expectations – perhaps for the 10th anniversary?
Instead, I made a compromise. I used a photo Marge had sent me from a trip to Bishop Park taken shortly after sunrise. While I was loading that photo to this post, I wondered “hmm, did Marge fall asleep at Bishop Park and missed the early sunrise photo that day, or did she hit the snooze bar one too many times and was late leaving the house?”
Some fun pics Marge shared with me through the years.
Marge enjoyed taking pictures and she loved nature – perhaps that is why we got along so well. I often used her photos in my blog.
She surrounded her home with many hummingbird feeders. She was always taking pictures of her Ruby-throated Hummingbirds which she usually sent to me. This was one of them.
Ruby-throated hummingbird on 05/10/16
It may surprise you that even though Marge has been gone five years, those hummingbirds still hover at the living room window where she placed several of her shepherd’s hooks with feeders. Her son Jeff tells me they watch him intensely. People use the moniker “bird brain” to label our feathered friends – that is simply not true. Those hovering hummingbirds and one female who blitzed by me one morning were the reasons I put up feeders a few years ago, but I have never had as many hummers visiting my feeders.
Marge didn’t just cater to the hummingbirds in the yard. Like me, she fed the birds and squirrels for years. “Sammy” was our resident squirrel, spoiled silly, just like my favorite Park peanut pal, Parker. “Sammy” not only noshed on nuts, but Marge shared whatever treats she was eating or baking. I can remember once seeing a batch of slightly burnt sugar cookies lined up on the deck’s top railing and “Sammy” sitting contently feasting on them.
“Sammy” knew he had a good thing going and made sure he was always hanging around, stretched out on the wrought-iron railing of the gazebo, so he didn’t miss a handout, like in this picture.
“Sammy” hanging around waiting for treats on 05/08/12
Even in the dead of Winter, “Sammy” knew he could find peanuts (or cookies) at our respective houses to tide him through the snowiest days of the season.
“Sammy” in the snowy backyard 12/18/13
Snowy backyard on 12/18/13
Marge’s deck and gazebo had birdhouses, bird feeders, a solar birdbath, thistle socks, suet holders and the aforementioned hummingbird feeders. Here are a few of the winged critters and “Sammy” who came to dine on Marge’s treats. I made this collage for one of my blog posts.
A collection of “deck pets” in all seasons
There were other “deck pets” like this baby dove. A dove laid an egg in an ornamental wire basket and Marge documented Mom AND Pop incubating the egg, the birth of the baby a/k/a a squab, up to when it fledged. This is one of the pictures, a view from the top of the baby. I did a blog post about the baby and its parents.
Baby dove love on 04/24/17
Before COPD sapped her energy and spirit, Marge would often drive to various nearby parks, which names you will recognize from my posts, like Elizabeth Park, Bishop Park and Dingell Park. She would forward her favorite images from those morning jaunts to me, some which I also used in my blog posts.
Elizabeth Park on 10/28/14
Elizabeth Park on 11/08/14
Bishop Park on 09/02/13
Bishop Park on 09/02/13
Bishop Park on 04/05/14
Bishop Park on 04/05/14
Here were seven swans a-swimming that I used in a blog post at Christmastime.
Dingell Park on 10/28/13
Sometimes on weekends, Marge would be driving and see me walking in the neighborhood. Like early one Sunday when she honked and pulled over and rolled down the window. “C’mon – get in Linda, we’re going to Elizabeth Park.” So, there were a few less steps walked that morning as we took a mini road trip to enjoy a little nature together.
Once we arrived at our destination, Marge parked on the perimeter road that encircles Elizabeth Park. This gave us a good view of the little valley where a lot of the geese hang out near the canal and we also had this view of the Boardwalk, Detroit River and Canada.
Like a couple of gunfighters at the O.K. Corral, we each pulled out our digital cameras simultaneously, ready for a photo op. Marge handed over her camera and asked me to take a photo. I did so, then took a similar photo with my camera – you can see my hand and camera reflected in the passenger mirror.
Elizabeth Park Boardwalk on 06/22/14(taken by me)
Then we cruised around Elizabeth Park a few times, then onto West Jefferson Avenue. Marge turned to me and said “I don’t feel like going home, do you?” I told her “no” and added that an extended drive was a welcome change of plans from the yard work and housework that awaited me when I got home.
So, we would go on to visit two more parks that day ….
We stayed on West Jefferson that turns into Biddle Avenue until we arrived at Marge’s favorite haunt, Bishop Park. She pulled into what she called her usual parking spot. We watched the row of anglers along the fishing pier, as well as seagulls wrangling for treats tossed to them. We talked for a while and took a few more pictures.
Then it was on to Dingell Park, just 2 ½ miles down the road.
When Marge pulled up in my driveway she promised to send me her photos and I said I would do likewise. I blew off the yard work and housework as I was eager to see my photos. Marge’s cache of images arrived in my e-mail inbox a short time later … they looked nothing like mine where the grazing geese were teensy blobs and Marge’s geese were … well they looked like geese. “Why??” I wondered. So I asked and learned about the wonders of zoom. Where had I been all this time?
I had bought my digital camera in 2010 for the sole purpose of taking pictures of the front and back yards where I labored many hours daily. My butterfly garden especially was my pride and joy, so I wanted to take photos of the beautiful butterflies that visited. It never-ever dawned on me that my 4X zoom camera was no match for Marge’s 12X zoom camera. I admit I was not savvy about such things.
So, that outing was quite enlightening for me and led to a post entitled “I must admit I had zoom envy.” That revelation also motivated me to head to Best Buy and get a 12X zoom camera, (which was frivolous as the other camera had nothing wrong with it). But, thanks to Marge, it awakened my interest in photography that I had abandoned for many years and I stopped buying stock photos for my posts.
The next excursion to Elizabeth Park was on a cold and windy day in November. Once again Marge picked me up while I was walking in the ‘hood, head bent down, swaddled in a scarf, hat and gloves, wind wiggling up my coat sleeves, with thoughts of Winter looming large. Then, like now, my camera was always with me, tucked in its pouch on my fanny pack.
At Elizabeth Park, the gorgeous oak leaves had already fallen and were scattered on the ground; the landscape looked a little forlorn.
Marge parked and took pictures from her side of the car and posted them on Facebook the following week. Evidently I had been enamored with the critters on my side of the car as you see in my Facebook comment.
That would be our last nature outing together. Marge made me promise to never leave the house without my camera and to always take lots of pictures. Well I have certainly taken my fair share of pictures, though I have left the camera behind on occasion if it looked like rain or snow, only to hightail it home to collect the camera and hope the row of ducklings trailing after Mama on the soccer field were still there, or that jam-packed Creek full of dead shad hadn’t budged.
This was a very long read about my Marge memories and I’ll conclude by stating that thanks to her prodding, I am publishing my 1,747th blog post today.
On Saturday, August 6th, Heritage Park in Taylor, Michigan was the site of that City’s 175th birthday party. I’m sure there was lots of cake, ice cream and high fives to go around. Historical Heritage Park has often been the subject of my blog posts. It is picturesque, no matter the season. Though I didn’t attend the birthday festivities, this post, which walk and photos were taken on Father’s Day, June 19th, will showcase Taylor’s crown jewel, a/k/a Heritage Park.
I arrived early on that Sunday morning, having made a pit stop at Council Point Park to walk a lap and visit with and feed my furry and feathered friends.
It was a gorgeous, not-quite-Summer day and, as I passed each historical building around beautiful Coan Lake, I saw walkers, some alone and others with their pooches, all enjoying the perfect weather morn.
It was a hubbub of activity around Coan Lake.
Coan Lake is in the center of the historical area of Heritage Park and here, around the covered bridge, is where I go to find photo ops with the ducks and geese that live there. My primary reason for this visit was to get some duckling pictures and, as you see below and will see later in this post, I found one Mallard Mama with her munchkins – that made my day! Here is a peek at a couple of those cutie pies.
Multiple families had gathered together to go fishing on the wooden overlook and along the Coan Lake seawall. I’ve never seen so many people fishing there, but I figured these family outings were all about spending quality time with Dad on his special day.
A few of the anglers positioned themselves at the wooden overlook.
Of note is that Coan Lake is catch-and-release fishing only; only the waterfowl get to keep the fish they snag.
The biggest “gathering of the clan” on Father’s Day was not humans, but a gaggle of Canada Geese who congregated outside the Little Red Schoolhouse – perhaps it was recess?
I smiled to myself when I saw the turtles sunbathing on the ramp because the last time I visited Heritage Park, I took a slew of pictures of those turtles which I spun into a fun Father’s Day post and here it was that actual holiday and I was seeing those same turtles. I got a couple of shots before they recognized me as that “photo-taking pest” and promptly plopped into the water.
Similarly basking in the sun and taking a breather from the rigors of nest-building and catching bugs in mid-air was this Barn Swallow. How funny that the day after seeing and photographing the beautiful Barn Swallows at Lake Erie Metropark, I would be lucky enough to find another Barn Swallow sitting still and pondering life while perched on this wooden fence post near the covered bridge.
The area around the covered bridge is always swarming with Barn Swallows who build nests in the rafters of the covered bridge. I saw no nestlings peering down at me on this visit. (In retrospect, I wonder why I confused the two types of Swallows recently as their nests do not look alike at all.)
I walked around the historical village, stopping to take a few shots. Regular readers of this blog will recognize these buildings, the Water-Powered Mill and the Old Log Cabin respectively.
My third trip around Coan Lake was the charm!
Last year it seemed every time I visited this venue, there were Mallard ducklings in different stages of growth. Can there ever be too many sweet ducklings gracing this forum – nope! (Besides, it was high time I got past the geese photos before those Mallards stomped their webbed feet and asked for equal billing in this blog!)
When I arrived at Heritage Park I quickly scanned the water and shoreline – no ducklings. But on the third trip around, there was a Mama Mallard and her multiple munchkins. I say “multiple” because they were squashed together or nestled against Mama and I wasn’t sure exactly how many duckling darlings there were. When I reviewed my photos later, I was disappointed to find a muddle of munchkins and it was difficult to see them as individuals. Here are three of them, set apart from the crowd – suffice it to say, this was one proud Mama with her brood.
I was happy to have those shots – mission accomplished! Then I saw another family of older ducklings in Coan Lake, so I’ll save those photos for this week’s Wordless Wednesday.
But wait ….
While it may have been a “ducky day” for me, this poor Mallard Drake was molting, which accounts for his somewhat frowsy appearance. There were lots of downy feathers and big flight feathers strewn on the grassy slope around Coan Lake, with Mallards picking at their feathers and looking similar in appearance to this guy.
I’ll be back to this venue in the Autumn when all the Maple trees are in glorious shades of red and yellow. Stay tuned!
It has been a while since I regaled you with tales of the Canada Geese I see every day at Council Point Park and/or at larger park venues.
That is because Summertime is molting season for these geese, so they are congregating en masse in park venues with large bodies of water, in the event of land predators lurking about.
The Canada Geese have been missing from Council Point Park since the end of May. I always know their departure is imminent after the adults’ large feathers begin appearing in the grass and pathways. These are their primary or flight feathers and soon thereafter, the geese and their goslings are gone until around Labor Day. Our Council Point Park geese make their exit via the Ecorse Creek for just a quick one-mile trip to the Detroit River at Dingell Park. You can see how the feathers are sparse and a little funky-looking here.
Truth be told, I kind of miss them and their bossiness and histrionics. Even the kids, er … goslings, have issues and attitudes and do their fair share of hissing and wing-flapping at us humans by the time the family departs for their annual sojourn to the River to await their new plumage.
In Summer ’22, an exception occurred as to that River Summer Vacay.
I’ve been walking the pathways at Council Point Park for almost a decade. Once the geese depart, they’re gone for three months. Recently, I was spreading peanuts and seeds under the pavilion roof and chattin’ it up with Parker, who scampered over to feast, (completely bypassing any niceties like begging or nuzzling the toes of my walking shoes), so I was chastising him for his bad manners. A woman was sitting on a nearby picnic table and said “so you’re the person who leaves those mounds of sunflower seeds and peanuts.”“Yes, I’m the Snack Angel” I said, while raising my hand in the air.
I learned she had recently started walking at Council Point Park. She told me “it is so peaceful here. This morning there was a huge group of geese on that cement ledge on the other side.” I admit I was a bit dumbfounded by that statement and said “this morning, really?” She said “yes, I took a picture – I’ll show you” and before I could say “oh, I believe you, I’m just surprised” her phone was out of her pocket and she showed me the photo. I told her I was incredulous as “our” geese are always MIA from this venue June through August and I’ve never seen them here once they depart for the River.
Query: did the geese miss the ducks and turtles, or maybe the squirrels and songbirds? Or the walkers?
By the time I passed that ledge, they were gone. Strange times we live in, even in the critter world.
A gathering of the clan – so where do all the geese go anyway?
In the Summer months, I like slipping down to Dingell Park to watch the freighters and stroll the long boardwalk. That boardwalk eventually dead-ends at a secluded and fenced-in area where boats fuel up. I found a group of geese, no doubt some refugees from Council Point Park. They were busy picking at their feathers.
I was as quiet as possible, but a “lookout goose” spotted me and became anxious and alerted the others. Soon that group paddled out to join a cluster of about 50 geese who were congregating, a safe distance from land. I guess the collective mindset was I was deemed a potential predator, causing each goose to vamoose. They were quite far from shore, so they looked very small. I omitted those photos of them bobbing around as they looked like specks in the water.
It might be like your kin’s annual family reunion … even more so when you see some squabbling going on. Be sure to note the adults’ necks lowered to the surface of the water, (that happens before the hissing begins), plus the gosling is flapping its tiny wings. Canada Geese are definitely drama queens sometimes.
So now that Your Roving Reporter has caught you up on the who, what, when, where, why and how of our feathered friends’ Summer holiday, I have a few photos to share about what the geese are doing on land at Elizabeth Park.
Elizabeth Park is a year-round haven for Canada Geese.
If you like these attractive-looking geese, so named because the Latin species name, canadensis, translates to meaning “of Canada” (though folklore tells us these geese were named for John Canada who discovered the species), then you will enjoy some of the goose family photos and scenarios I have rounded up for you from my visit to that venue over Memorial Day weekend.
The massive population of geese at Elizabeth Park continues to grow in leaps and bounds every Spring. If you have an urge to photograph some goslings, just visit in May and June and you are sure to find some, like these cutie pies I found along the boardwalk.
The parents were nearby lest I try to abscond with one of their darlings.
You’ve heard of a traffic jam – this is a goose jam.
Elizabeth Park is a man-made island, separated from the mainland by a vehicular bridge that crosses the canal. You enter and exit on the one and only road that runs the perimeter of the park. There is a speed limit as there are walkers, with or without pooches, bikers, rollerbladers … and geese, lots of geese. In fact, if you have to be somewhere and exit the park timely, be sure to arrive at your car in plenty of time to allow for goose traffic.
The families cross together causing a bit of a goose jam.
Also, prepare for long hold-ups because sometimes our feathered friends are a wee bit conflicted.
Here the idea is to cross the road from the right side to the left side
Halfway across, they decide to double-back and return to the right side.
Ultimately the signal caller a/k/a Dad decides to implement Plan “A”.
At the time I was walking, not driving, so I had a good opportunity to watch and photograph the antics.
Please don’t feed the geese!
Tossing a few peanuts to the begging squirrels is A-OK, but tossing food to the geese is a no-no in this park. There are signs everywhere, like here at the canal.
But, who can resist the sweet goslings when they toddle after their parents and look you in the eye? Some people bring along bread to toss to them anyway. A gaggle of geese and just a few crumbs of bread is not the equation for a happy situation for everyone as you will see below.
Some geese and goslings were grazing near the road. Nearby is the “Please DO NOT feed the geese sign.”
A car goes by; a couple of bread chunks are tossed out; the car leaves. Junior discovers one of the bread chunks.
“Mine, all mine! I scored a piece of bread and I’m not sharing!”
“I’m outta here, before my brothers and sisters bug me for a bite!”
“Boy, this hits the spot! I’m soooooo done with grass.”
Dad opens his beak and gives a low hiss at his offspring: “Time to share your treat with me!”
“Did you hear me son?” Dad hisses as the gosling beats a hasty retreat.
Ignoring Dad, the gosling is on the move, munching away.
It’s been a fun year for documenting Canada Geese with photos and accompanying narratives, beginning with the goose eggs I discovered on Easter Sunday. Next week’s trek will be about Mallards at picturesque Heritage Park.
… because this visit to Lake Erie Metropark on the Saturday of Memorial Weekend was one of my best ever in the four years I’ve been going there. My all-time favorite was the near nose-to-nose encounter with a fawn whose mom disappeared for a snack and a swim and left me to babysit Bambi. Oh, what a hardship that was! About 50 camera clicks later, Mom emerged from the bushes to collect her offspring and Bambi trotted off, politely and perhaps even wistfully, looking back at me. My heart melted and I think I floated home. As fellow blogger and wildlife photographer Wayne of Tofino Photography is fond of saying “it’s all a matter of being at the right place and right time.”
Last Monday was part one of that Saturday morning stroll, mostly meandering along the Cove Point Lake Erie shoreline which encompasses three miles. The highlight of that portion of my day was the blitzing Barn Swallows. You can read about it here if you missed it.
After heading to the car, I rested up a few minutes, then drove over to the other side of the 1,607-acre (6.50 km) park to garner more steps and see if my photo luck might continue.
The landscape is quite different there, with more marshes and lagoons and a few rustic trails. I always park by the Marshlands Museum and stop to visit Luc, an 18-year old Bald Eagle. Since 2009, Luc has lived in an “aeire” or outdoor enclosure. Due to an accident, Luc cannot be released into the wild; he is blind in one eye and one wing is permanently damaged. I always call out a cheery “hello Luc” as I approach the cage, mindful not to look at the enclosure’s bottom where Luc’s breakfast is usually slung across a low tree stump. While a dead white rabbit or white rat may appeal to an eagle, I’d just as soon not see it. I make eye contact with Luc only and my eyes never stray beneath the middle horizontal bar of his enclosure.
Sometimes Luc will return my greeting with a good morning chirp. Perhaps with his one bad eye he mistakes me for the person delivering room service? Sometimes he just stares at me or turns his back … that’s okay too.
I left Luc and was grateful for the pea gravel strewn across the muddy entrance to the overlook – at least my shoes were not going to get muddy. I walked to the edge of the wooden platform that juts out over the marsh. A pair of Great Egrets multi-tasked, as they waded and simultaneously studied the water for their breakfast.
I hoped their eyesight was better than mine because across the marsh from where I stood, the water was green and murky looking.
Yep, green gook was everywhere.
Here’s a good example of that green gook, which glommed together near the overlook. My overactive imagination told me this looked like the footprint of a Heron or Egret embedded in the muck and mire, but more likely it was a stick floating on the surface.
A Mallard drake was preening that green gook off its feathers, a rather futile exercise and a Mama Mallard, her seven ducklings in tow, was trying to find a clear space to navigate.
I watched the ducklings’ tiny bodies alternately bobbing and dabbling for seaweed.
It was otherwise boring – no big bullfrogs belching under cover of the green gook, so it was time to move along. I stepped off the overlook. Once again my thick-soled walking shoes crunched as I picked my way across the pea gravel, but suddenly a squeaky noise made me turn around. I knew it wasn’t Luc. What in the world? It turned out to be a groundhog, which I’m grateful didn’t scurry past me when I was near the edge of the overlook as I might have tumbled over the railing and into the water.
Yes, the gravel-crunching noise likely startled this fellow who shot me an indignant look, but my heart was thumping too!
That grumpy groundhog hightailed it off the overlook as it vamoosed.
I stopped and told Luc all about it. He seemed disinterested, merely swiveling his head around with a pained look as if to say “if you really want to get on my good side Linda, see what happened to my morning RATions.”
Heading to the boat launch area.
There is a long road leading to the boat launch area where swooping seagulls often fill that little harbor’s skies. You can start the Cherry Island Trail from there as well. There is the option to walk on the road or walk along the very long wooden overlook that runs parallel to the road.
Along the way, I got a close-up of one of the Egrets I was watching earlier.
Across the lagoon is the view of the overlook and boathouse. I strained my eyes to see if I could see my groundhog buddy, but he was long gone.
A flash of white in the distance caught my attention. A pair of Mute Swans and their cygnets. How exciting, even if they were far away across the lagoon! I hung out for about a half hour hoping they were divas and would appreciate the paparazzi, but they stayed put. Here are the closest shots I got and I will cross off that wish from my Birdie Bucket List!
Reluctantly I left the Mute Swan family as I’d reached the boat launch and the beginning of the Cherry Island Trail.
Navigating the Cherry Island Trail.
Visits to this park don’t often include this trail unless I time it just right and there’s been no heavy rains for a while. To the left is Lake Erie and to the right are a wooded area and bogs – lots of bogs. So, just in case I can walk this route, I always ensure I’m wearing long pants and long sleeves to thwart mosquitoes. Here are some shots taken along the 1.25 mile (2.00 km) Cherry Island Trail and, as you see from the signage …
… this sometimes-rustic trail goes along the waterfront …
… or near a lagoon …
… maybe along a grassy path …
… or becomes an overlook …
… then dumps out onto a rustic trail again. (I was right behind this Robin.)
The Cherry Island Trail meanders through the marsh, filled with cattails and a few small Water Lotus beds that will be spectacular by late Summer. Nothing much to see now. Mr. and Mrs. Mallard didn’t look too enthused to see me (or each other for that matter).
Poplar fuzz was floating around and landing everywhere I walked.
On the last leg of the Cherry Island Trail, I saw some movement in the bushes.
A doe fixated her gaze on me – should she trust me or stay under cover in the forested area? She stayed put, but seemed fascinated with me. I’ll save those photos for Wednesday as this is already a picture-laden post.
Clearly I need a self-driving car or a driver.
Enroute to Lake Erie Metropark, many hours before, as I was driving along West Jefferson Avenue, a parade of Mallard munchkins followed their Mom across the usually busy street. I’m glad there were no vehicles coming from the opposite direction. I gladly stopped while the group waddled across the street. While I was driving out of the park to go home, I saw a version of a Bambi and Thumper Kodak moment. Of course I was driving again and the park discourages stopping along the road. A family of geese and their goslings were grazing. The parents were close by as the goslings nibbled grass and a doe crossed the road, head bent down, clearly with the intention of visiting, not harming, the goslings. The gander went ballistic and amid the hissing and wing-flapping that ensued, the poor doe was scared and loped off. What a fun encounter to photograph, yet I drove on, but never saw another vehicle as I exited the park, so I could have stopped and pretended I didn’t see the signs.
It was Saturday, the first day of Memorial Day weekend and chilly by late May standards, so I left the house wearing a light jacket. Because dark clouds were brooding, despite a predicted perfect day weather-wise, I wavered whether I should even make the 30-mile roundtrip drive to Lake Erie Metropark. I sure didn’t want to be several miles from the car and the sky opened up. I decided to take a chance.
Enroute to that park, the cloudy skies parted and a few rays of sunshine poked through, so I ditched the coat on the back seat and set out in short sleeves. Well that was a dumb move as the sun did a disappearing act several times, so it was chilly and yes, what they tell you about getting sunburned on a cloudy day is true, because my forearms and forehead were sporting tinges of bright pink before the day was done.
I spent hours and hours at Lake Erie Metropark, starting first at Cove Point and walking the entire shoreline to the marina and back, then heading to the wooden overlook where I got an up-close view of Barn Swallows perched on a dead tree, seemingly oblivious to my presence.
After returning to the car, I rested for a few minutes, then drove clear across the park to the boathouse area to visit Luc, the resident Bald Eagle and to navigate the Cherry Island Trail without sloshing through mud or water – that was a plus. That portion of my day at Lake Erie Metropark is picture laden and will be the topic of next week’s posts.
Cove Point was picturesque as usual.
I began at the shoreline where the largest Water Lotus bed is located. Some green leaves were evident, but nothing to take photos of yet. By Fourth of July weekend, the leaves would have grown to the size of a dinner plate, then by Labor Day the leaves will be gargantuan and have morphed into a sea of green with beautiful white Water Lotuses reaching skyward.
Almost immediately I saw clouds on the horizon. As mentioned above, I trusted the wisdom of the weather folks who predicted a stellar day, so I hoped that it would not rain on my parade.
I was the only person meandering along the paved pathway. I didn’t even call out “good morning” to this fellow, whose gaze was intent on the shoreline as he pondered life alongside his faithful friend.
I reached the marina, which I assumed would be teeming with sailors eager to get out on the water and was surprised to find the marina was rather desolate. I grabbed a few shots of the boats.
There was a sailboat on the horizon, no masts up – the “Sloop John B” perhaps?
I saw no sign of life in the nearby marsh either. In the past, I have seen deer swimming in the murky water, the occasional Great Egret or Great Blue Heron, but evidently the critters slept in, so I headed back to where I started.
Walking back to the car I saw that Monarch Butterfly which I featured in a recent Wordless Wednesday post. I followed it until it alighted. Finally a sign of critter life, no matter how you define a “critter” and, after clicking away, taking pics of that butterfly which likely wondered why I found it so fascinating, I moved along.
Oh no you don’t Mother Nature!
I saw this …
… and thought “there’s no escaping these pesky seeds … no matter where I go” but at least I didn’t have to sweep them up, a chore that awaited me sometime over the holiday weekend. Just as I was musing over these Maple seeds, I saw some weeds with red leaves on them. “This is a fluke” I muttered to myself. “No way are the leaves turning colors already!”
Noisy honking made me swivel my head upward to see a flock of Canada Geese, a sight usually reserved for my Autumn outings.
They evidently set their sights on a patch of grass for grazing and soon fell out of formation.
The chilly morn even had a Fall feel to it – say it isn’t so Mother Nature!!
It was “Home Tweet Home” on the shoreline.
As I ambled along, parallel to the Lake Erie shoreline, I saw a slew of wooden nesting boxes. I believe I’ve mentioned in prior posts that volunteers build those nesting boxes and attach them to wooden stakes to entice Bluebirds to nest along Cove Point’s shoreline. I’ve been visiting this venue since 2018 and have not seen a single Bluebird because the Tree Swallows have overtaken those boxes.
Below is one of those Tree Swallows staking its claim, with the soon-to-be decommissioned Trenton Channel Power Plant in the background. I’ll have more pictures of the birds and boxes in this week’s Wordless Wednesday post.
I heard a Great Blue Heron’s raucous screech, then saw a shadow overhead as it glided by. If you’ve never heard their screechy call, it is “loud enough to wake the dead” as that saying goes. The Heron likely saw me and took off with a harrumph. It perched delicately on a branch over a rock that juts out along Cove Point. I took this faraway shot of the regal-looking Heron …
… and, it held that perfect profile pose as I got closer.
The Barn Swallows blitzing about made my day!
I was back where I started, having taken a few wildflower photos along the way. I went to the wooden overlook for a glimpse of the Lotus beds from there – it was the same progress as Cove Point.
As usual, a lot of Barn Swallows were swooping and diving non-stop around the marshy lagoon and I heard tiny tweets and twitters. Happily the sun finally agreed to stick around which made for some nice reflections as you see below.
Dozens of times I’ve tried to capture their moves and come home with blurry black blobs, but today I was lucky. Evidently a few Swallows, weary from flying, paused to perch on the branches of a dead tree. I could not believe my good fortune to be about ten feet away from them. I was afraid to make so much as a peep as they might leave. What a beautiful bird with its distinctive forked tail, buff-colored breast and iridescent cobalt blue plumage.
There are literally hundreds of these birds, either nesting along Cove Point, or swooping and diving around the wooden overlooks. Barn Swallows are continuously in motion, catching and feeding on insects in mid-air and even feeding their young while hovering in place. After years of trying to get pictures that were not blurry of these pretty birds with their forked tails, I considered myself lucky that they posed so nicely for me.
The up-close-and-personal visit with the Swallows made my day, but my adventure continued on the other side of Lake Erie Metropark with Mute Swan cygnet sightings, something to check off my 2022 Birdie Bucket List! Stay tuned next week for that post.
Linda Schaub
WALKIN', WRITIN', WIT & WHIMSY 