Seagull Yoga #Wordless Wednesday #Wanna join me? #Downward Dog is for the birds!

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

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Into the forest and through the trees ….

Long before Spring arrived, I scheduled myself for three virtual 5K events to take place during this season. To date, I’ve completed two of them and have up to June 15th to do my Fishes & Loaves 5K, which event raises money for a local food pantry.

I follow a lot of nature sites on social media, so when the Michigan DNR’s “Happy Little Run for the Trees” appeared in my news feed, that event called out to me. This trek could be taken between Earth Day (April 22nd) and Arbor Day (April 30th) at the location of your choice. I signed up, lured in part by the very cool swag: a fun finisher’s medal, (which is a reproduction of a painting by Bob Ross during “The Joy of Painting” series 26, episode 1, “In the Stillness of Morning”)

… plus a tee-shirt emblazoned with the likeness of Bob Ross.

But that frivolous reason aside, all funds raised help to fill the coffers at Michigan’s Department of Natural Resources and will be used to replenish the trees in Michigan’s many forested areas.

A little background info about the “Happy Little Trees” program.

As I write this post, the maple seeds, a/k/a “helicopters” are fluttering down from the trees, collecting on rooftops, in gutters and all over the mulch and sidewalks – grrr. And, if you think those mini maple seeds will never amount to much if you don’t weed them out of your garden, I’m here to tell you they will indeed grow up to be towering maple trees. My neighbor has one such tree. Long ago, the previous homeowners, a young couple in their starter home, were ecstatic to see a maple seedling embedded in a bare spot on their City property lawn. First they put a jar over that seedling, then, when it was bigger, they secured it to a stick, put a fence around it and fertilized it. It seemed every time I was doing yard work out front, they were either admiring that maple seedling or fiddling with it. Suffice it to say it got a lot of TLC. I must admit to having secretly rolled my eyes at the time when I witnessed those antics, but that tree two decades later, yields at least a dozen or more 30-gallon yard waste bags every Fall … on my property alone! That’s what I get for rolling my eyes and many a time I have wished I’d pulled that seedling out when no one was looking. My neighbor is not enamored with the tree either and has mentioned cutting it down, so I shared this little story with her.

But, because we can’t always depend on this method of growing trees, nor leave it up to the many squirrels who hide nuts, then forget to dig ‘em up, the DNR, in conjunction with the foundation of the late painter and PBS star Bob Ross and the Michigan Department of Corrections, instituted a tree-growing program to first grow the seedlings, then there is a contingent of volunteers to plant them.

The seeds are placed in the care of MDC inmates who are enrolled in an educational program where they learn horticultural practices and help to raise new trees for replanting. To ensure the trees will survive in the local communities, only native seeds are collected, (as well as seeds for shrubs and plants), then once the seedlings have morphed into saplings, they are planted in Michigan’s many state parks.

To date 2,100 trees have been planted in 20 state parks across Michigan. Through the DNR’s partnership with Bob Ross Inc., this is the third year 5K race participants raised funds to plant “happy little trees” throughout the Mitten State. A whopping $600,000.00 was raised through the 2019 and 2020 5K events.

So I was all in, and, after wavering for several weeks, on whether to venture to a state park, like Belle Isle or Sterling State Park for my trek, I decided to just go to the Rouge River Gateway Trail that winds through a lovely forested area.

I began my very long meander at Ford Field Park.

It was a beautiful morning when I set out to walk at least the equivalent of 3.2 miles/5 kilometers, and I did just that …

… and more (double in fact) by the time I returned to the car three hours later.

I parked at Ford Field Park in Dearborn.

I roamed around that scenic venue for about an hour. The beautiful Willow and Redbud trees caught my eye.

This small wooden footbridge traverses the River.

When you look down, you see the water churning as it hurries over a collection of rocks just beneath the bridge. Though I saw no waterfowl near the bridge, a Great Blue Heron had positioned itself down the River to catch some fish for breakfast. Unfortunately he was too far away to get a good shot.

Adjacent to this footbridge is a playground and a small pond, the latter which always guarantees a few photos of ducks or geese, either paddling or foraging together companionably. Such was the case on this morning. I wished I had some treats for them, but judging from the ground near the pond, they were well taken care of as I saw fruits and veggies … even watermelon slices. But this array of produce held no appeal for the geese and ducks who continued to forage and do a series of feathery-butt-in-the-air-dabbling moves, much to the delight of a few children who erupted into giggles at their foraging tactics.

I stayed a few minutes then continued on my way out of the park, then through the neighborhood.

Along the Rouge River Gateway Trail.

Though I long knew about this trail, I never walked it until 2019 when I participated in the “Mutt Strut” 5K event to raise money for the Friends for Animals of Metro Detroit, a huge, no-kill animal shelter in Dearborn. I enjoyed walking this calm and peaceful trail, which begins parallel to busy Michigan Avenue in West Downtown Dearborn.

This sign along the trail suggests that in this corridor I may encounter these birds …

… but I didn’t see a single critter, feathered or otherwise. Just the path and the trees.

As I walked, I stopped to take photos of a few trees, still unfurling their leaves, as we had uncharacteristically cool recent weather.

And, since this post is about trees, I included a few tree-related items as well.

There had been a family of bicyclists on the trail at the onset, but by the time I reached the forest area, it was just me, myself and I, as that saying goes. The sun’s rays filtered down through the trees and the sky was a brilliant blue … so peaceful. Though I didn’t see any songbirds, I heard the non-stop warbling of Michigan’s state bird, the American Robin. I whistled back at that unseen Robin and we did a back-and-forth songfest for a good five minutes, then the warbling stopped – perhaps he caught sight of a worm.

In the sudden silence, there was just the crunch of last year’s leaves underfoot as I continued on my journey.

I found myself at Fair Lane, the grandiose estate of Henry and Clara Ford, so since I intended to explore those grounds, I decided to see how many miles I had walked and was surprised to see the pedometer registered 6,800 steps – exactly 3.2 miles/5 kilometers! I had to get a photo of this for this post and for any other post where I might participate in a virtual 5K event.

Wandering around Fair Lane.

When I participated in the Mutt Strut in May 2019, one of the highlights for me was walking past the estate and extensive, flower-filled grounds known as “Fair Lane” long the home of Henry, (Ford Motor Company founder) and his wife Clara. The beautiful Redbud trees were everywhere and in the apple orchard, an abundance of trees were in blossom. I returned in August to explore the 1,300 acre estate from behind the fence and was chattin’ it up with a guard who said “you must return when the lilacs are in bloom.” So, here I was two years later to do so. (It was closed due to COVID last Spring.) My visit to the Ford estate and its many gardens, established in 1915 and currently undergoing extensive restoration, will be in an upcoming post.

After logging in a few more miles at the Estate, it was time to go back to square one and I must admit my steps were not as lively as when I began around 8:00 a.m. – whew!

This 5K Run for the Trees event was a success!

All participants received a “thank you” e-mail from the Michigan DNR in early May. We learned that 18,000 people registered for the event. A whopping 70% of the participants hailed from Michigan, runners and walkers from all 50 states participated, as well as 150 people who participated internationally (England, Australia and Mexico).

I’ll leave you with a quote by Bob Ross that appeared on the event’s website:

“I like trees that don’t just look like future telephone poles. They’ve got character. Some of them, they’re like people. Some of them have a few flaws in them, some of them are a little heavier, some are a little skinnier, something like so, and some of them maybe have a little tilt in their world, and that’s okay.” – Bob Ross, “The Joy of Painting” series 26, episode 1, “In the Stillness of Morning.”

[Quote and header image from Michigan Department of Natural Resources website]

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Glimpses of Goslings #Wordless Wednesday #Sweet fuzzballs

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

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Escape to Elizabeth Park.

I was ready to escape somewhere … anywhere … just to leave the confines of the house where I had been battling an army of little black ants for weeks. It was discouraging to see them popping up everywhere, including marching across the kitchen table where I park myself days and evenings in front of the laptop. The little buggers were everywhere and just when it appeared they had taken a hike for good, they were back.

And, if the ant explosion was not exasperating enough, the furnace had begun a little two-step, shutting itself down when it felt like it, instead of running a full cycle and this was during a nine-day period where forecasters warned of frost advisories each and every night.

It was barely over the freezing mark when I left the house at 8:00 a.m. and headed to one of my favorite spots – Elizabeth Park. Here it was May 8th, and I had worn a Winter coat and donned a hat and gloves, but I knew I’d be strolling the boardwalk along the Detroit River and it was a tad windy. Having parked and exited the car, I glanced up quickly at the perfectly blue and cloudless sky, crossing my fingers that the Chinese space rocket debris floating around overhead didn’t decide to descend on the car … or me.

It was “Global Big Day” (and I was eager to gawk at goslings too).

At Council Point Park, it’s been a disappointing Spring. Usually by now, there are a least three or four families of Canada Geese parents with their goslings. There was finally a sighting for me Friday, but that’s all. Our City’s tree-cutting crew gave the Park trees a big haircut and removed most of the lower branches. So, any bird nests have not been in my line of sight. The Red Bud tree where the families of geese with their goslings gathered and made for wonderful photo ops, is gone, felled by the tree cutters last Fall. And, the geese and ducks continue to monopolize the treats I put out for the squirrels and birds … a change of venue pronto was needed!

As mentioned, May 8th was “Global Big Day” which was an event, if you were so inclined, to count what species of birds you discovered, similar to the The Great Backyard Bird Count back in February. I did not tote along binoculars, but did intend to note what I saw with my camera and submit it to the site. And … since I was looking for goslings anyway, any geese families would also be included in my personal bird tally.

Before I would return to the car, I logged almost six miles on my feet (and later would bop down to Council Point Park to feed the squirrels and birds as well before calling it a day).

A sign showed there could be ducks crossing my path …

… but no plump ducks were waddling across the path that encircles Elizabeth Park. The Mallards were, however, gazing up at me from the canal, while sending a few coy looks my way.

I stood on the vehicle bridge to scan the canal that runs parallel to Slocum Street. Nope, no geese, nor goslings – were they sleeping in on this cold morn?

Next, I headed to the main bridge that crosses the canal.

I climbed to the top where, from my high perch …

… I looked up and down the canal …

… then scoped out the area to get a bird’s eye view of the canal and Detroit River. Nary a goose nor gosling in sight.

So I started along the boardwalk – perhaps some geese families might be meandering by.

I saw Mr. and Mrs. Red-Winged Blackbird. Mr. was quick to strike a pose, but Mrs. first gave me the cold shoulder, then went behind a couple of twigs.

An inquisitive Mourning Dove peered down at me as if to say “got treats for me?”

A seagull drifted lazily overhead, likely surveying the boardwalk for kind souls who might like to part with some of their breakfast.

A White-Breasted Nuthatch inched headfirst down a tree and as I crept closer to get a shot, it bopped down to the ground.

So, if you’re keeping count … that was seven feathered friends, but zero geese/goslings. I stayed on course, that course being the boardwalk, where I passed a lone fisherman, then many more people fishing, then eventually I was back at the woodsy area again.

It was particularly picturesque with a brilliant blue sky and sparkling water.

I circled the island twice and was about to leave and head to the car, then to another riverfront park in search of goslings, when I saw one last fisherman, with two geese families nearby, each with a passel of goslings trailing behind them in the canal.

I hurried over to one of the smaller bridges to cross the canal for a better view.

I was lucky to get this image of these geese and a Red-Winged Blackbird that dive-bombed them just as I crossed over the bridge.

I got a treasure trove of shots of the three families. It was difficult as the trio of families hung out together, with three ganders giving me the stink eye. So, I had to be careful not to tread too close to any of the precious golden babies, lest I tick off any of their Dads. Here is one of the families and I’ll save the rest of the photos for Wordless Wednesday.

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Bleeding Heart #Wordless Wednesday #Live life in full bloom.~Unknown

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

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Stuck like glue.

This sweet Mama Mallard and her fuzzy duckling, (which I’d like to think are a mother/daughter combo), were paddling around Coan Lake at Heritage Park on a visit I made there last Spring. When I saw these up-close shots on the screen, I immediately tucked them away for my 2021 Mother’s Day post.

I consider myself lucky because, as an only child, I had Mom’s undivided attention from birth until I started kindergarten at age 5 1/2; and, truth be told, she fussed and fretted over me for many more years after that time period. Just like this duckling, as a toddler, I never left Mom’s side, except to run around the house banging on pots and pans during “Romper Room” or while engrossed with “Captain Kangaroo” or “The Mickey Mouse Club” – oh, the fond memories of the characters on those shows and, now that I think of it, perhaps Mom was glad for the brief respite of answering my slew of never-ending questions during the time I was parked in front of the TV. In between naps, meals and TV programs, I had “preschool” courtesy of Mom and I memorized spelling and vocabulary lists and learned simple math using matchsticks or Smarties (the Canadian equivalent of M&Ms). “Smarties math” was rare as I wasn’t allowed to eat candy except on special occasions.

While I might have been fascinated with Mom defrosting the freezer, making me frothy egg nog using a handheld metal egg beater, or baking my favorite cookies, I guess I should have paid better attention to Mom’s cleaning and cooking skills, as these days I sure don’t excel in either. But I have Mom’s personality and for that I am blessed. (In my humble opinion of course.)

The family albums are chock-full of photos documenting me from a newborn through the decades and I cherish each and every picture. I’ve digitized those photo albums, so I can travel down memory lane on a day like today when I want to remember the special Mommy-and-Me moments all those years ago, like these two pictures circa late 50s.

On this Mother’s Day, I hope you are lucky enough to give your mom a hug, have a telephone chat or share a smile via Zoom. How I wish I could do that, but my mom passed away in 2010, so all that remains are the photographs and memories.

I’ll leave you with this quote: “Mothers hold their children’s hands for a short while, but their hearts forever.” – Unknown

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Small fry artwork. #Wordless Wednesday #I’ll finish this after my nap. #Chalkyourwalk

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

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If Mama ain’t happy, ain’t nobody happy!

We all enjoy a good chuckle from social media memes, tee-shirts … even bumper snickers. I’ve seen the expression used today in my headline countless times. It claims to have Southern origins as early as 1850 – 1900 and was even parlayed into the 1998 song “When Mama Ain’t Happy” by country music singer Tracy Byrd.

Although neither the memes, nor the saying, are generally associated with Mother’s Day, this humorous expression begged to be paired with this series of images I saw while meandering around Coan Lake at Heritage Park.

After a quick stop at the Conservatory and Botanical Gardens to check out their fresh Spring plantings, I was disappointed to discover the blossoms from that park’s many flowering trees were scattered on the ground. There went that photo op. Hmm … the flowering trees in the ‘hood were and ARE still beautiful and blossoming.

So I decided to focus instead on getting images of cute and fuzzy goslings, though chances were slim they had already hatched and were following their parents around. After a quick tour of Heritage Park’s historical area and around Coan Lake, there were no gosling sightings, but I did find a Canada goose sitting on a nest. I mused this was the second sighting for me this year after never seeing a goose on a nest before.

But, unlike the goose on a nest at Lake Erie Metropark, this Mama goose was not out in the middle of a marsh with Papa goose guarding her and his impending family. Nope … not at all. This soon-to-be-Mama looked uncomfortable as she sat atop the big rocks at the base of the covered bridge.

Here is a photo of the covered bridge and those rocks …

… and here is Mama Goose incubating the eggs. If you look closely, you will see nesting materials beneath her belly feathers. Unfortunately there is a shadow from the bridge but this was my best and safest vantage point to take photos of her.

I knew her mate could not be far, so I dared not stray any closer to Mama and their nesting territory lest he attack me as ganders are known to do if anyone/anything strays too close to a nest. A few years ago here in Southeast Michigan, we had some young golfers out on an Oakland County course and one of them accidentally got too close to a Canada goose nest and the gander attacked him, sending him to the ground, golf bag spilling its clubs and he landed with arms and legs akimbo. Except for his wounded pride, the young man was not injured and one of his companions whipped out his phone and shot some photos of the attack, which was circulated nationally on social media. So, no … I was not going to end up as the viral video of the day because I ticked off a gander. So I stepped back a few more paces, hoping to get some shots, but of course ever mindful of an angry gander lurking nearby.

First, I observed the Missus basking in the morning sun’s rays. I obviously didn’t pose a threat to her as she glanced over, then slowly her eyes dropped to half mast, then totally closed them as you see below.

There were very few ducks about, which was very strange for early in the morning. I usually see them preening or snoozing on the grass near the seawall early in the morning. I stepped onto the covered bridge and checked out the other side … no Papa Goose, so I moved on. However, when I got ready to go home, I glanced over and there he was, under the bridge. See … I knew he was not shirking his husband responsibilities of defending his mate. Aah – all is copasetic in the goose world.

Or, so it would seem.

Stand by your man.” (But with an asterisk.)

You may remember the country western song “Stand by Your Man” by Tammy Wynette. During the 1992 presidential race, Hillary Clinton raised the hackles of Tammy Wynette and others when she made the infamous remark “I’m not sitting here, some little woman standing by my man like Tammy Wynette” during a “60 Minutes” interview which raised the subject of presidential candidate Bill Clinton’s indiscretions. She later apologized for her comment.

Apparently Mama Goose was of a similar mindset as the former First Lady. It was all good as Papa Goose frolicked and bathed SOLO in Coan Lake, while she was plunked down on a bed of rocks with just a layer of nesting materials between her belly and those rocks. Ouch!

In fact this soon-to-be Mama was wistful … of course she would have liked a quick bath too, but there were eggs to be incubated, turned over every so often … sigh … a woman’s work is never done.

Then things got interesting

Another goose appeared on the scene. Through the camera lens I watched the interplay.

Note the long and intense stares, even goo-goo eyes – the body language between the two geese was incredible.

And though it is difficult to tell a male from a female Canada Goose, I’m no dummy. I was convinced this wasn’t just another “one of the boys” so I decided to hang out and enjoy this developing drama. Not only did it pique my interest but it did that of Mama Goose as well. She lifted a sleepy eye to likewise monitor the scene.

“Let’s explore underwater … who can dive the most?” this newcomer seemed to say. The gander rose to the occasion swooping down, shaking his neck and tail feathers with much fanfare.

Then he followed up those shenanigans with this impressive wing spread.

Wow – all that for the other goose. (Smile.) I am sure Mama Goose was rolling her eyes at the display, though my eyes did not dare sneak a glimpse from behind the lens, as I didn’t want to miss this drama and all the while I was clicking merrily away as the words began bubbling up in my brain for this Mother’s Day week blog post.

Since Papa Goose was um, er … occupied, I took the opportunity to grab a few shots of Mama from another angle, just about the time she decided she’d had enough. She shot a steely glance in the direction of her seemingly philandering mate, a/k/a “Mr. Charming Personality”

… Papa Goose knew that look meant business and that his brief dalliance was over. He hastily headed over to appease his mate. I say “hastily” because he didn’t even take the time to fly up onto the grass and pick his way over to her in the rocks … he flew right up onto the rocks instead to show his mate how much he cared!

Mama Goose shifted position and quickly resumed incubating the eggs with her mate hovering nearby.

Aah – domestic bliss had been restored.

The girlfriend, er … other goose was left behind …

To be truthful, nothing happened between the geese in the water … a little frolicking was all, though the pictures seem to tell a different story, don’t they? I took liberties at the expense of this gander, because in reality, the habits of Canada Geese are quite the opposite of how I have portrayed them in this post. Canada Geese are devoted to their mates, are monogamous and will stay with their mate for life. If one of the pair dies, most go into seclusion and remain solo the remainder of their lives. During the incubation period, which lasts from 28-30 days, there is usually a clutch of five to six eggs. The gander does not assist in the actual incubation process, but instead stands by to guard his mate and the nest from any predators. The female will not leave the nest to eat, drink or bathe during this time. The gander will fiercely guard his goslings once they have hatched.

What can I say to conclude this post except to use another popular meme saying: “happy wife, happy life.”

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My Little Chickadee. #Wordless Wednesday #Black-capped Chickadee

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

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How to wrangle a fish.

Eight years ago today I discovered Council Point Park. In a prior post recognizing this date, I called it “serendipity” since what is amazing to me is this venue, established in 1994, is merely a mile from my home.

This 27-acre nature nook has become my go-to spot for my weekday walks and I usually make a quick stop on weekends, which time I generally reserve for walks at larger venues. I prefer going in the early morning when it is not crowded and that was my mindset even before the pandemic, plus my feathered and furry friends are out foraging (and/or looking for me hoping for breakfast handouts).

In these eight years of traversing the trails at Council Point Park, I have come across quite a few critters. Their images have been shared in countless blog posts. Long-time followers of this blog have come to know the quirky personalities and recognize the images of my favorite Park squirrels: Parker and his main squeeze Penelope, Stubby, Puff and Fluff. I would be remiss in not mentioning Harry the Heron or newcomer Rex the Red-Bellied Woodpecker. I couldn’t name all the squirrels I interact with as there are too many (and let’s be honest … after a while, they all tend to look alike). Nor do I name the geese or ducks (though of late I have called them a few choice names – just sayin’).

Magnificent Mute Swans.

A little info on these beautiful birds … although male and female Mute Swans weigh about 25 and 20 pounds (11 and 9 kg) respectively, they are not Michigan’s largest waterfowl. That honor goes to the Sandhill Cranes. While Mute Swans are beautiful to admire, they are very aggressive, so don’t cross their path, especially when they are with their mate or their offspring, a/k/a cygnets. They are considered an invasive species here in Michigan.

A visit from a Mute Swan at Council Point Park is a rare treat. In eight years of visiting this venue, I’ve only seen them three times. I figure they don’t visit here much because they mostly gather at the Detroit River, near Dingell Park and Mud Island, which is just one mile away. The Ecorse River is the proper name for the Ecorse Creek. It runs parallel to the walking path at Council Point Park, but, because it is such a narrow tributary, it is generally referred to around here as The Creek. It is 18.8 miles long and meanders through a few Downriver communities, dumping out at the Detroit River. So likely, when there is a Mute Swan sighting, they have paddled here from Dingell Park as opposed to a flyover and splashdown.

The prior two times I’ve encountered Mute Swans, I documented that sighting with a blog post and photos.

In the first instance, the male Mute Swan (“Cob”) and his mate (“Pen”) were paddling around the Creek on a sunny Winter day and I was taking pictures. I was far away, but my presence evidently angered the male and a minute later, after snorting a few times, he stomped up the Creek bank and chased after me. I may laugh about it now, but it was not funny since there was snow and ice and I was walking backward to keep my eye on him, while plotting how I’d hopefully scramble onto a park bench where he could not attack me. Some quick thinking and a pocketful of peanuts thwarted an encounter. Whew! You can click here to read about it if you’d like.

My second encounter with a Mute Swan was uneventful, but left me awestruck. In my post, “The Ice Cutter” (click here) I came upon a Mute Swan struggling to paddle through the ice on the Ecorse Creek. It pushed through the thick ice with its massive feet as it sought to forge a path to shore, occasionally spearing the ice to break it apart with its powerful beak. It emerged from the water with ice clinging to its feathers and began to preen, only to return to its icy journey once again. I believe it was a Pen, or female Mute Swan, as it lacked the large black knob a/k/a a “blackberry” above the beak that is characteristic of the Cob.

But on THIS Saturday afternoon visit, I saw Mute Swans fishing.

I arrived at the Park around noon after an enjoyable morning spent walking and taking photos at Elizabeth Park. I only intended to walk the mile-long path in the first loop and feed the usual gang, when a flash of white appeared in the corner of my eye. Through the bare trees I saw a pair of Mute Swans gracefully gliding along. So, I didn’t stop to chitchat with the squirrels, but instead tossed some peanuts and seeds to the usual spots and hurried over, camera in tow.

The pair was on the move with this one bringing up the rear.

And this swan was admiring its reflection in the still water (or perhaps scoping out a fish?)

Here they were together – I paused to revel in their beauty.

Soon it was evident they were tired of the same-old vegetation and since it was the Lenten season they were going to dine on fish. I thought swans only ate plant vegetation based on seeing them umpteen times at Dingell Park, their heads and long necks below the water level and their feathery butts in the air. But they would soon prove me wrong as each of the swans caught and ate the fish rather effortlessly, despite a little wrangling going on, as seen in the header image.

The Cob was the first to snag a fish or two …

… the Pen didn’t do too badly either. She added a little drama and flair to her fishing expedition.

As for me, my catch of the day was a treasure trove of photos thanks to being at the right place at the right time.

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