WALKIN', WRITIN', WIT & WHIMSY

Snowballs in Summer? Yes, please!!

Posted on September 21, 2025 by Linda Schaub

After what seemed like an eternity since enjoying a long walk with my camera, finally the heat, humidity and wildfire smoke vanished and every local meteorologist promised a slew of coolish, sunny days on the horizon!

That first day, August 22^nd, I headed to Heritage Park as the blooms at the Botanical Gardens would be at peak and perhaps the perennial garden maintained by the Taylor Garden Club might be filled with flitting Swallowtails like they were in July.

I arrived around 9:30 a.m. and pulled the camera out of my fanny pack while still in the parking lot, ready for anything – who knows, another goose might be lurking atop the Old Sawmill this time?

**Sadly, it was déjà vu, i.e. nothing to see, let alone photograph!**

Where were all the Canada geese that are usually paddling around Coan Lake, having hissy fits with each other or glaring at me?

The Mallards were in a huddle, still snoozing away, worn out from their annual molt, the males and females all wearing their drab brown plumage. I didn’t disturb them, partly because they were under a large tree in the shade. A quick glance across Coan Lake yielded no Cormorant or Heron photo ops – it looked like those resident birds were similarly MIA this morning.

Beneath the covered bridge, there was no second clutch of Barn Swallows, so those hopes were dashed and unbelievably, there were no turtles sunning on the ramp either.

I kept on walking, the only person on the pathway and at the perennial garden, hoping to see some beautiful butterflies – there were none, not even a bee!

Well, that put a bee in my bonnet and I muttered “going forward, you must learn to temper your expectations Linda!” After berating myself, I decided it was going to be one of THOSE days, so I meandered over to the gazebo where I could at least get some photos of the Old Sawmill and the fountains.

Surely something would pique my interest at the Botanical Gardens?!

So I headed there hoping to scare up a bee or butterfly and found myself admiring the beautiful Snowball Bushes that framed the entrance to the Conservatory and appeared throughout the Gardens.

Even though I am no fan of snow and ice, I disliked the Summer of 2025 so much that at times I decided Winter didn’t seem like such a horrible season after all. Well okay – maybe if snow fell softly on Christmas Eve and whisked itself away on Christmas Day.

We are still one complete season away from worrying about Winter as we transition to Autumn tomorrow.

It used to be the Botanical Gardens’ volunteers only hand watered, so I’d see them on my morning strolls and we’d chat it up a little, but it seems they have modernized their garden-tending duties by using a sprinkler system. So, instead of a nice chat, I became “The Artful Dodger” to avoid far-reaching spritzes of water getting on the camera and/or me.

In the many years of visiting this venue I am usually wowed by the beauty, but admittedly it didn’t seem as stunning as usual, likely since we’d had such a scorching hot Summer. This was my third time here this Summer and I had the same impression each time.

It was a Pollinator Fest, er … Feast at the Alliums!

I’ve always liked Alliums – they remind me of lollipops, with their pretty purple blossoms on the end of very tall stalks. They complemented the Snowballs.

I grazed some Alliums as I passed and all of a sudden, the plants seemed to come alive with tiny orange butterflies that zoomed out all at once.

The emergence of these tiny beings, which, to me, resembled Pearl Crescent butterflies with their orange and brownish-black hues, sure had me stumped – were they butterflies or some type of moth? I would learn many days later, when I finally had the images on the computer screen, that it was indeed a butterfly because butterflies have the tiny knob a/k/a a “club” on the end of their antennae, a feature lacking in moths.

There were three types of Skipper Butterfly that fit the description and images … so I’m just going with “Skipper” and I was lucky that this Skipper didn’t skip away like its pals, but instead alighted on an Allium bloom for a perfect photo op …

… and next, it flitted over to a cement wall …

… and lastly, it landed smack dab onto a Snowball bush.

At the Gardens’ Pavilion area, I found more Alliums.

These plants were pollinator magnets with bees and wasps crawling all over them, a real hubbub of activity!

And there was something else, a Great Black Digger Wasp … you’ll meet him/her on Wednesday.

I meandered around the Gardens, noting the absence of Monarchs or Swallowtails – yes, it was a wee bit cooler, but not cool enough to send this last generation of Monarchs winging their way to warmer climes.

Enroute to the car, I decided to check out the Community Gardens for any pollinator activity.

As I passed a pile of discarded wooden pallets, I saw one of the two birdhouses with tilting issues amongst those discards. I think one bird too many piled its babies in one area and busted out the side.

Perhaps the Community Gardens would yield more photo ops?

Unlike in the past, I saw the gate to the Community Gardens was closed – something new. It didn’t feel right to open the gate to meander around as I usually do while gleaning pics of flowers and pollinators, so I walked parallel to the Gardens instead, along the fence to the right, as I sure didn’t want to be trespassing.

The Community Gardens is where people rent plots for the growing season – six months to grow flowers and produce to your heart’s desire. Some portions of the Community Gardens are planted/maintained and harvested by court-ordered workers doing community service and the produce is then given to the local food banks. There was always a sign asking folks not to take produce for themselves, but now a new sign mentioned surveillance cameras.

Looking at the rows and rows of neatly tended gardens, it seemed there were more flowers than produce this year, some showing the effects of the blazing hot Summer, with little rainfall in August …

… but luckily, there is water available when Mother Nature does not cooperate.

I was happy to see this Swallowtail Butterfly alight on the Phlox …

… but its incessant wing fluttering while trying to nestle deep into this flower did not make for a stellar shot here.

Moments later, this post’s “one that got away” was a male Ruby-throated Hummingbird, the only hummingbird found here in the Mitten State. I thought a Hummingbird Moth had zipped in front of me as I busied myself with the Swallowtail, but unfortunately I was too slow and that little feathered cutie had already sipped some nectar and was on his way.

At the veggie patch, I could not find any rabbits nibbling on the cabbage and kale, but there was a Cabbage White Butterfly, daintily perched on the huge leaves, likely leaving eggs on its host plant.

I’m glad that dainty butterfly headed over to a plant leaf instead.

It was nearing high noon and getting warmish. I took one last glance toward Coan Lake for any photo ops and to my surprise I saw about 50+ Canada Geese, scattered in several groups around the pond. I decided this was photo-worthy, so I hustled over to the wooden overlook. These are just a few of the geese.

It was here I found my friend Ann Marie, a person I’ve often mentioned in my blog, especially during the holidays and my birthday when she stops by the house bearing treats and gifts. Despite the sun in my eyes, I recognized her from her fishing pole – Ann Marie and her husband went fishing every morning after they retired. I didn’t get to meet Ann Marie’s husband Steven that day, but I did meet some of the residents and staff from nearby American House, a senior living complex where Ann Marie and Steven recently moved to. A van had transported them here for a picnic lunch. Here are a few photos of Ann Marie.

I was happy for the walk, gleaning about four miles worth of steps on a sunny, but not oppressively hot day. I also gave my 16-year-old car a much-needed run since my driving miles, like my walking miles are down … in doing so, I hit the 14,000-mile mark (22,530 km.) just as I rolled up into the driveway.

I am joining Terri’s Challenge this week: Fountains and Falls.

Posted in #Sunday Stills Challenge, Butterflies, nature, walk, walking | Tagged #Sunday Stills Photo Challenge, Butterflies, nature, walk, walking | 58 Comments

“Keep your face to the sunshine and you cannot see the shadows. It’s what sunflowers do.” ~ Helen Keller #Wordless Wednesday

Posted on September 17, 2025 by Linda Schaub

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

Posted in #Wordless Wednesday, Flowers, nature | Tagged #Wordless Wednesday, Flowers, nature, sunflowers | 56 Comments

As Spring erupted, I was looking ahead …

Posted on September 14, 2025 by Linda Schaub

… to six months of wonderful weather with lots of walking and photo-taking bliss, but, as we all know, Mother Nature did not cooperate.

It was Easter Sunday when I took this walk, a gorgeous morning which kicked off a week of sunny, beautiful days; in fact, as the week wore on, the temps crept upward until it was in the 80s on Thursday. It seems that this one uncharacteristically hot April day would portend our Summer weather for Southeast Michigan.

This is not the first time I’ve chosen Heritage Park for my Easter Sunday stroll and, as in the past, it was just me meandering the pathways; likely many folks were out of town, at church, or searching for Easter eggs.

I hoped to recapture another magical moment of seeing Mama Goose off her nest, nestling the eggs with her bill and, with a loving touch, plucking feathers from her body to cushion those future goslings as she incubated the eggs.

I did see Mama sitting on a nest and Papa keeping tabs on me, but there were no more memorable moments that day. I returned to Heritage Park a couple of weeks later, to locate and photograph Mama, Papa and their little darlings. How did I know these were the right goslings? Well, she was the only goose sitting on a nest at Easter and this was the only family when I returned. While this park is 149 acres/60 hectares, the Canada Geese keep their goslings close to the water after hatching, so you’ll never find them more than a few yards from Coan Lake.

Here’s what I saw on my Easter morning walk.

As I entered the park there was this chalk art …

… from “The Bunny Bash” that was held the day before at the Petting Farm – someone wanted to spread a little joy to the other side of the park.

West Mound Church was looking good, ready for weddings and now totally repaired after an electrical fire nearly gutted it back in 2020.

While Fall is my favorite season, you sure cannot deny Spring’s beauty as trees and flowers come to life, dabbing colorful spots on the still blah and boring landscape.

Tree leaves had begun to unfurl …

… and the park’s many Pear trees had erupted into beautiful blossoms.

Even these bright-yellow dandelions did their part to deliver a splash of color.

As mentioned above, I went to the covered bridge to check on Mama Goose, who yearly alternates nesting in the boulders on the left or right side just past the bridge. This year it was perilously close to the edge – yikes!

Papa eyed me suspiciously, interrupting his preening ritual to check me out.

Evidently I passed muster, even upside down. 🙂

This male Mallard was resplendent with his iridescent green head glistening in the sunshine.

My walk around Coan Lake and the historical area did not yield many photos, so I ambled off in search of more photo ops.

Early bloomers at the Botanical Gardens.

While the early bulb bloomers were pretty, the Garden’s archway was stunning as usual as its 20-year-old Espalier Pear tree was in full bloom winding up, over and around the entranceway.

I feel my photo above does not do the Espalier Pear tree justice; the Taylor Conservatory and Botanical Gardens Facebook site posted a better photo on April 23rd, so I am including it below.

Not to be outdone by the Espalier Pear tree, the Daffodils were pretty, perky and a vibrant yellow …

… and white as well.

There were the usual Tulips …

… and Hyacinths infusing the Gardens with some pastel hues.

This chicken, worn out from the previous day’s event at the Petting Farm and thankful there were no visitors today, ventured out, decided I was a friendly face and meandered over to say “hey”.

I ended up walking along Pardee Road to rack up some steps before heading home, admittedly not the photo-laden walk I anticipated, but I knew when I returned to check on the goslings in a few weeks’ time, it would be a different story.

Goslings galore – time to ooh and aah and get shutter happy!

Postscript: This is a hybrid post where I followed-up on Mama and Papa Goose just as I did for the family of geese at Fair Lane Estate and Mama Killdeer at the Detroit River International Wildlife Refuge.

I returned to Heritage Park on May 9, 2025, hoping to see and photograph Mama and Papa and their offspring and they did not disappoint. The weather prevented me from returning sooner when the goslings were smaller and still sporting their lemon-yellow feathers (like the “runt” of the hatch – more on that gosling later).

The nest was empty …

… and, with a quick glance around Coan Lake, I quickly located the family and hurried over.

Instantly on alert, (likely because he recognized me from Easter Sunday and the past few years), the gander proceeded to herd the family closer to the water.

I assured him that he and the family need not beat a hasty retreat to Coan Lake as I was taking a few photos, then would vamoose.

Of course he did not understand me, but the family stayed put – nice! However, within minutes I heard the rumble of riding mowers fairly close by, so I knew I had to get any pics pronto before the geese were scared off by the noise.

Here is one proud Mama or Papa with three of their eight goslings.

These are my favorite solo gosling pictures. Their yellow feathers were already splotched with patches of brownish-gray, but at least they hadn’t reached that gawky, teenage phase with the big feet and boat-shaped bodies.

As you peruse these photos below, be sure to note the runt – it was obvious how much tinier this gosling was than its siblings. Since I did a walk around the park in the area surrounding Coan Lake and saw no other Canada Geese families, this little guy or gal, was not “adopted” from another family here at Heritage Park, but likely hatched later than the rest. He/she was still more yellowish, than brownish-gray.

I was mooned a few times …

… but these sweet babies were still too young to have mastered the histrionics of mimicking their parents to flap their stubby wings and hiss at me.

The next time I returned to Heritage Park there were a few more Canada Geese families and MY little family of goslings were all grayish-brown with elongated necks and bodies, wings that were “gettin’ there” though not fledge-ready yet and they were paddling and stomping around using those wide webbed feet. You’ll see those “teenagers” in a future post.

I hope you are feeling mellow from all the yellow because today I am joining Terri’s Sunday Stills Color Challenge: Shades of Yellow and Burnt Orange. Did you know there are 70 types of Sunflowers in the world? Well, I’ll show you an array of colors, like orange, gold and even brown in this Wednesday’s post.

Posted in #Monthly Color Challenge, #Sunday Stills Challenge, nature, Spring, walk, walking | Tagged #Sunday Stills Monthly Color Challenge, Canada Geese, nature, Spring, walk, walking | 60 Comments

What happened to this nesting box at Elizabeth Park in three years’ time? #Wordless Wednesday #Before-n-after. #Rough tenants!

Posted on September 10, 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 | 62 Comments

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.