WALKIN', WRITIN', WIT & WHIMSY

Well, it’s July 31st and it’s been four months since I last reported on my miles walked to date. That occasion was National Walking Day (April 1st) when I crowed about how far I had walked toward my goal (323 of 1,255 miles/519 of 2,020 kilometers).

I have walked a lot of miles, taken a ton of photos and written endlessly about my treks so far in 2020. Those walks and writing about them have been a wonderful distraction from our “new normal” existence.

The beginning of this year, before the COVID-19 crisis, we had a mild Winter, but there were some mornings I still didn’t walk as we had dealt with freezing rain, which left an icy glaze, so I didn’t venture out, except perhaps to run the car. I rallied back on weekends when they were clear and dry and recouped those lost steps, sometimes walking six or seven miles each weekend day.

Then the Coronavirus came knocking at the door. I wavered on whether to walk at all at the Park, though it was hardly what you’d call crowded. So my angst over whether to continue my walking regimen there, or in the ‘hood, or not at all, caused me to lose some steps to my total as well.

Luckily we had the sunniest June on record, so I was just a walkin’ fool during that month. We also had one of the hottest Julys to date. In the past, oppressive heat would have sent me scurrying to the aisles of Meijer, the grocery store where I shop. This store is big enough to walk huge laps around the perimeter of Meijer to get my steps done. But, like most everyone else, I’ve tried to stay clear of public places, unless it’s a necessary trip. So, I soldiered on, in the heat and humidity, garnering steps along the way.

We have a beautiful and cool, almost crisp, Friday morning, so I plan to walk six miles and will reach 725 miles (1,166 kilometers) walked to date. I still hope to reach my goal (1,255 miles/2,020 kilometers) by year end. I will push forward this next five months. From mid-November to year end is never a sure bet for walking due to potential ice and snow, and, believe it or not, on occasion, there has been slipping and sliding on the perimeter path due to black ice as early as October. October brings the beautiful Fall colors, but rain-slickened leaves on concrete while walking through the hood gives one cause for pause as well.

Fall and Winter are on the horizon … ugh!

On July 21st I was walking at Council Point Park and saw the first tinges of yellow and red in some bushes lining the Ecorse Creek. Oh no – say it isn’t so!

No worries … I was not surprised as these raggedy-looking bushes start to turn color every Summer and I’ve noted them in my blog before. I took some photos of my watch and the colorful leaves, but then decided a few days later, I should really document the colors in the background while wearing the watch to be more accurate. That is the image you see up top.

I’ve been watching squirrels squirreling away peanuts since the Park reopened on June 2nd, but I have a theory that they worry the walkers will disappear again, leaving them to fend for themselves. I hope their nut-burying diligence is not a precursor of a horrid Winter and they know something that the meteorologists do not. The year has wreaked havoc enough.

As a side note, I turned 7,700 miles on my car this week – I think that is worth noting since my car will be 11 years old in September!

Onward and upward!! P.S. – Check out these well-worn shoes, which feel like slippers to me.

I have already written two posts (on July 17th and 20th) in conjunction with this particular morning spent getting in my steps and checking out the usual haunts at lovely Heritage Park.

I have stopped to check out the Community Gardens at Heritage Park twice this year. The first was when I participated in the 5K walk back on May 9th. Due to the pandemic, the gates were locked and signs advised that a directive was forthcoming when gardening would begin again.

The Community Gardens are located on the Heritage Park grounds, halfway between the historical village and the Conservatory and Botanical Gardens. The Community Gardens consist of personal plots of land where folks can garden ’til their heart’s content for an annual fee. Also found in this area is the Good Will Garden.

The purpose of the Good Will Garden is two-fold. In 2002, through a program developed by Judge Geno Salomone of the 23rd District Court in Taylor, Michigan, community service workers have tended large garden plots and all produce is donated to the Downriver Fish & Loaves Community Pantry. Planting begins in May and the last harvest is in October. The community service workers maintain the gardens throughout the growing season. It is a win-win venture to give back to the local community.

The Community Gardens got off to a slow start …

I am sure many wondered if and when plants and/or seeds could be planted – what would happen to everyone’s crops in 2020? Well, when I bopped by to check out the personal plots and community service plots over Fourth of July weekend, was I in for a surprise! After the lifting of various restrictions imposed by the Governor during the pandemic, the growing season had begun in earnest. Between bouts of torrential rain, the sunniest June on record and a horribly hot start to July, the veggie gardens were already producing. Here have a look.

These are the work force detail gardens.

These are the personal plot gardens.

I love the ambiance here – for example, this quaint wooden chair with the flowers planted where the seat would be and a cheery-looking birdbath.

There are garden doodads and other homey touches in most of the personal gardens, an extension of the owners’ personalities it seems. The nature lovers often put out bird feeders, houses and baths to cater to their feathered friends. Others have brought along Adirondack chairs to take a load off their feet. You may recall last year I chatted it up with Mike who was watering a double plot on an equally hot and humid Sunday morning. You can read about my visit with Mike and see some of the garden photos if you click here. Mike told me one of their plots was dedicated to flowers and tended to by his wife. Mike was in charge of the veggie plot. He enlightened me on the whole process, as I had no clue that regular folks could own these plots. I thought the produce was grown strictly for donation to the food pantry. Mike explained that 20-by-17-foot plots cost $50.00 apiece to lease from May through October each year.

As I walked along the fence, I decided the gardeners must have slept in, likely the result of neighborhood fireworks going off in and around the Downriver area until all hours of the night. I was the only one walking around the garden area and boy were the mosquitoes making a meal of me due to the heat and humidity. I wondered if the gardeners here don’t mind tending to their gardens in the heat of the day?

Of course a few lucky gardeners have raised beds for their gardens, so no stooping or bending is required to tend to their crops or flowers. This is the way to go and easy on the knees too!

I did concede, as I ambled along, that someone had been by to water the raised gardens before I arrived, as all the greens had a fresh and dewy look. Here’s a close-up of those raised gardens nearest the fence – it’s like stepping up to the salad bar.

Was the corn knee-high by the Fourth of July as that expression goes? From my vantage point, I eyeballed those rows of corn, while trying to figure the height on the morning of the 5th of July. What do you think? I know fellow blogger and Michigander Ruth, or Diane with her huge garden in Ohio will know the answer.

It’s not all about the veggies – one plot had nearly ripe berries peeking over the fence.

And this one lone Coneflower had grown mightily in the few short weeks since the garden had commenced. Perhaps this gardener has a perpetual plot filled with perennials?

There are farm implements that were used long ago and now serve to enhance the garden area. I’m pretty sure these gardens will never need the likes of large implements like these. The bales of straw are spread over the soil by the community workers to keep the soil moist between waterings.

I wrapped up my long morning by heading back to the parking lot and sitting in the air-conditioned car a good ten minutes before taking off – whew! I’m no fan of the intense heat and humidity, but it is sure to help your garden to grow. I’ll leave you with this quote: “Garden as though you will live forever.” ~ Thomas Moore

What can I say? I keep returning to Heritage Park for weekend jaunts, as it is a quick-and-easy drive, plus there are always images to pique my interest and to be captured by the camera lens. And this trek was no different. In fact, in my three hours spent relaxing at Coan Lake, meandering through the historical portion of Heritage Park, getting my steps on the walking path and visiting the massive garden areas afterward, I amassed a ton of photos. Later I divvied them up and will do separate posts in the coming weeks on the Botanical Gardens, Community Gardens and a mess ‘o Mallards and Canada geese found in and around Coan Lake. Right now I am stacked up with photos from various weekend jaunts at larger woodsy parks and water venues.

In the meantime, here is what I saw in the early morn at Taylor, Michigan’s Heritage Park, often referred to as the “Jewel of the City” and understandably so.

This was my first visit to Heritage Park since I participated in my virtual 5K walk for the local food pantry known as Fish & Loaves on Saturday, May 9th. You can read about that 5K walk here if you missed it. I was even wearing my new 5K swag … and yes, I left the finishing medal at home. 🙂

When you have your ducks in a row …

… you always arrive early at Heritage Park, because the Mallards are waking up and beginning their morning ritual, not unlike that of humans. You stretch and contemplate your day ahead; the Mallards lift up one wing where their head was tucked while sleeping, then raise one eyelid, stretch those short orange legs and wide-webbed feet, then it’s time to eat. (BTW – there is no snooze button that I know of and yes they have a little “bed head” just like you, or most of us.) The Mallards waddle to the edge of Coan Lake …

… and then plop into the water, where they will often dive deep, feathery butts in the air, to nibble on aquatic plants or catch a fish.

This big pond is stocked with fish for catch-and-release fishing and for the waterfowls’ benefit as well. Unlike the geese, who have been strutting around grazing on grass, long before their waterfowl friends woke up, ducks don’t usually eat grass, unless some kindly soul has scattered corn onto it and stray grass ends up in their beak while they are hurriedly scarfing up the corn. There is a gentleman who visits Coan Lake with a huge bag of cracked corn every morning . Just like at other parks, the ducks recognize their benefactor (or perhaps that large bag of corn), then scramble out of the water as soon as they see the whites of his eyes.

Now that eating is dispensed with, it’s time for morning ablutions, the equivalent of you or me hopping into the shower.

Watching the waterfowl here always starts my day off right.

It is molting time right now, and the waterfowl at this park spend an inordinate amount of time preening and picking their feathers. There were feathers all over the grounds, large ones and fluffy down too. The ducks are busy pulling out old feathers and then the new feathers that are growing in make them feel itchy and fidgety. I have had pet birds and know about the molting process. It was very hard on my budgies and canaries – they were listless and lethargic, not talking or singing, for about six to eight weeks, as they lost all their feathers in succession from head to tail. They’d jump from perch to perch and a flurry of feathers would drift from their bodies and land onto food or water dishes – at the height of molting it was like watching a mini pillow fight going on in the cage as the feathers flew furiously.

Check out these Mallards, especially the drake (male), whose usually vibrant plumage is mottled due to the molting process and this guy is missing his tail feathers as well – poor boy. All body feathers eventually will be replaced and soon he and other drakes will enter “eclipse phase” when all their plumage will resemble their mates. In fact, at a glance you can’t tell them apart, except for the beak color (bright yellow versus brown).

There is no set hatch date for ducklings and goslings. In 2019, at Council Point Park we had four families of geese, each with goslings, that arrived about a week apart. So there were lots of cute-and-fuzzy babies stomping around the Park grounds in the month of May and June. It was no different here at Heritage Park. Proud parents with their offspring close by were all over Coan Lake.

I mused that after beating a path to various water venues in search of ducklings every Spring, that this year, I have been inundated with glimpses of ducklings. At least something good has come out of the year 2020!

Here are a few ducklings to ooh and aah over.

The fountains on either side of Coan Lake were not turned on and this female Mallard relaxed, like Queen of the Hill, on this perch while preening and enjoying the morning sun.

Woe would be this little lady when the sprinkler system was turned on and water gushed up! Not only would it likely be chilly, but I wondered if the force of the spray would knock her from that perch? It gushes mightily as you see below when it was turned on later.

Taking a gander at the geese.

Heritage Park is large, but all the waterfowl congregate around Coan Lake. There are not that many families of geese and I looked for the parents who sadly had just two offspring, (as opposed to the usual six or seven or more), that I featured in an earlier post this year. I didn’t find them, but there were these proud parents and their trio of youngsters.

After spending a peaceful hour at the waterfront, it was time to cross the covered bridge over Coan Lake and into the historic village.

I was the only person on that bridge, so as I ambled across I paused halfway to gaze up at the fairly high rafters and scope out any Barn Swallows or nests filled with babies. Here is a close-up of the underside of the covered bridge.

In the past I’ve been fortunate to see the nests brimming with youngsters. The nests are fashioned out of mud and puttied onto the bridge rafters by that same mud. The former pictures weren’t that close up though. Well, it was my lucky day! Swallows are always buzzing around the bridge, capturing and eating insects as they swoop and dive. They rarely pause but a few minutes to rest on the seawall or the big boulders near the bridge, but this time of year, you’ll see them detouring to the rafters and that’s to take food to their young. Have a look at the hungry baby Barn Swallows awaiting their morning meal. (Talk about expectant faces and no, I didn’t bring you any bugs – sorry guys!)

It was a lucrative trip across the covered bridge … photo-wise that is. I saw these two grumpy-looking turtles basking in the morning sun. One must’ve had a dirt bath and the other was spanking clean.

I crossed into the historical village area and took a few photos which regular readers will recognize as the Little Red Schoolhouse, Fitz Caboose and boxcar in the background, old Water Mill and the Gazebo.

I was not ready to go home yet and spent another few hours checking out the Taylor Conservatory and Botanical Gardens and Goodwill Gardens. The former was ablaze in color with perennials and annuals and the latter, despite getting a slow start due to COVID-19 and the garden area being closed down, was brimming with goodness to be donated at local food banks, as well as gardeners who lease private plots to tend to flowers and veggies for their own personal use. I will spotlight these two portions of my Heritage Park trek in upcoming posts.