WALKIN', WRITIN', WIT & WHIMSY

Growing up to be a Canada Goose.

Posted on May 17, 2020 by Linda Schaub

(It’s a work in progress and certainly not the Mother Goose story you grew up with.)

Mama and Papa Goose swim … the goslings swim.

Mama and Papa Goose graze … the goslings graze too.

But, what happens when Mama and Papa Goose fight with each another? Whose side do ya take?

The narrative and photos in this post originate from the Fish & Loaves Virtual 5K that I participated in on May 9th and was the subject of yesterday’s blog post. During that trek, you may recall I saw a pair of Canada Geese at the Sawmill at Heritage Park.

Initially, when I took that picture, I failed to see their two goslings that were nearby in the water. Perhaps the parents felt threatened by my presence (though I was certainly not THAT close to them), as Mama and Papa Goose decided it was time to vamoose!

I watched as the parents slid into the water next to their offspring and began the journey across Coan Lake. Right away I noticed they had only two goslings, not the usual five or six. I felt a little sad wondering what happened to the rest of the clan?

Aren’t they sweet?

These geese and goslings had some powerful paddling prowess and crossed Coan Lake in a matter of minutes.

I decided to hightail it back near the covered bridge to be the official Welcoming Committee.

Mama Goose scoped me out to ensure I was not a threat to the family since I kept turning up like a bad penny.

Of course they had to have a bite to eat … all that swimming made them hungry.

Mama Goose, still skeptical of why I was there, watched me out of the corner of her eye while grazing.

When you’re still a wee one, of course your eyes get heavy with a tummyful of grass and while basking in the sunshine … sometimes you just have to take a load off your feet.

With geese, I notice they are always aware of their surroundings, swiveling their heads on their slender necks to ensure they and/or their brood are safe from land predators, or even human predators like me. But, it is also important to beware of strange non-waterfowl creatures that lurk at the water’s edge.

See how Mama checks out this Tree Swallow …

… who suddenly felt threatened and moved down the seawall. The gosling, mimicking its mother, craned its neck backward to scope out the Big Bad Tree Swallow.

The other gosling was too engrossed in eating to be bird watching. Look at those big feet!

Domestic bliss; then in a heartbeat … Mama and Papa go ballistic!

After their quick snack, I watched Mama and Papa Goose herd their small brood back to the water’s edge. Mama was in the lead, the two goslings toddling behind her. Those little chicks walked down the small ramp that the Mallards use to ease themselves into Coan Lake. Papa followed close behind.

A Fox squirrel appeared at my side, looking up at me and since I always carry peanuts in my pocket, I was happy to oblige him. In that few seconds that I reached for peanuts and bent down to give them to my furry pal, I almost missed all the action.

Suddenly I heard honking and splashing noises, then noticed a blur of brown wings flapping and water churning. Wow – a little goose drama is always good for a few shots in a blog post. I looked closely while wondering “so, was it an intruder trying to hurt Mama and/or her babies?”

Watching through the camera window, I was amazed to discover it was Mama and Papa who were having the spat. (In front of the kids no less!) It is not the first time I’ve seen what appeared to be mates fighting like this. It usually starts out as a honk or a hiss and soon, there goes the marital bliss!

Papa Goose was flailing about, his feathers obviously ruffled about something and Mama Goose was no slouch in this squabble either. She matched every hiss and honk by Papa Goose in kind. I wasn’t quick enough to get both of their bodies in one shot as they squared off like a couple of cowboy gunslingers, hissing wildly, eyes bugged out and necks stretched low to the surface of the water.

In the below photo you see just how aggressive Mama was with her mate! Meanwhile, the goslings were off to the side, their eyes glued to the scene like they were watching a pay-per-view fight night event. Yikes!

But I had a little smile when the fight was over and Mama, still a tad riled up, was joined by her goslings. Please notice the gosling on the left hissing at Papa. Yep, he’s a go-getter that one. 🙂

Soon Papa Goose joined the trio albeit a tad sulky and standoffish for now.

A mere moment later, all apparent grievances were resolved and everyone seemed happy for the time being and paddling around like nothing had happened.

Hmm – humans take note how easy that resolution was.

Postscript – A few minutes later the family climbed up on land again, Papa Goose was still lagging a little behind (perhaps not quite welcomed back into the fold of the family just yet). So, there I stood, the annoying women with the camera, who was ready to air their dirty laundry to the rest of the world. Mama Goose glared at me, so I got the heck out of Dodge before I was next to bear the brunt of her anger!

I’ll leave you with this quote:

The universe is wider than our views of it. ~ Henry David Thoreau

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged geese, growing up, nature, walk, walking | 60 Comments

On your mark, …

Posted on May 16, 2020 by Linda Schaub

… GET SET, …

… GO!!!

Last Saturday I spent a delightful morning at Heritage Park. Those of you that have been following my blog for a while, know there is always something to see and write about when I go to this scenic and historical venue.

The ambiance makes Heritage Park a perfect place to have a peaceful meander year ‘round, but Spring is one of my favorite times, as the many flowering trees lend their pastel tones to an otherwise still-muted landscape. I was also hoping to glimpse some ducklings, as Coan Lake is always teeming with Mallards. I’m still hoping to fulfill my “Birdie Bucket List for 2020” by getting some duckling shots.

Well, it was not the day for ducklings … unbelievably, there were only two Mallards strutting around the grounds and none paddling in Coan Lake. I suspect, that out in the bushes, female Mallards were sitting on their nests and the males, a/k/a Drakes, were hovering nearby … you know them as nervous expectant fathers. 🙂

**Annual Happy Soles 5K Run/Walk (with a twist).**

I had not only chosen this venue for the above reasons, but I was there to participate in a virtual 5K walk for the local food pantry known as Fish & Loaves. This is their mission:

I have done two 5Ks in the past for this charity and the posts can be found here and here.

Last year I participated in four different 5Ks, raising money for charity while ambling along to enjoy the event and take pictures for a blog post. Two 5Ks raised money for local education, one for shelter pets and then there was Fish & Loaves.

So, when I received an e-mail to sign up for the Happy Soles Virtual 5K, I decided to give it a whirl – it’s the only organized walk I will do this year and this organization is in need of donations due to so much unemployment in our area.

The rules were to participate in a 5K walk or run, anywhere you wanted, any date/time between May 4th and June 30th, then, upon completion, you posted your results at the race website. A tee-shirt and finishing medal will be awarded the first week in July. Because I don’t have a smartphone, I could not officially sync/certify my race results, just post them. That’s okay, I never strive to get great race results anyway.

So let’s get started on this Virtual 5K for Fish & Loaves Food Pantry.

It was Saturday, May 9th – unbelievably, the weather was more like March. It was blustery and just 31F/-0C when I pulled into the parking lot at Heritage Park. It seemed hard to believe the weekend before people were walking around in shorts and tank tops and the cold weather on “race day” persisted long into the week we just ended, with traces of snow and record-setting cold weather.

As usual, I was masked up and the cold air was causing that all-too-familiar issue of fogging up my eyeglasses. I adjusted the mask so I could see where I was going and didn’t bump into anyone – not likely, as it seemed I was the only person there.

My favorite part of Heritage Park is the historical village. I like the old-time atmosphere there, the peace and tranquility of Coan Lake and its covered bridge, along with the aqua-colored hues of the water-powered Mill and the dribs and drabs of red from the caboose and box car, and of course, the Little Red Schoolhouse.

**Coan Lake never disappoints (well usually).**

I went straight to Coan Lake by the covered bridge looking for ducklings but was surprised to see no waterfowl at all – not a single seagull swooped preciously close to my head. That had to be a first for me, so I figured I would just meander around and return to Coan Lake later.

First up – The Little Red Schoolhouse.

On every trip to Heritage Park I always get a shot or two of the Taylor Heritage School, that cute, one-room schoolhouse near Coan Lake.

I must confess that on this day, however, my initial reason for stopping at the vintage-looking schoolhouse was because I decided to get a photo of my reflection in the door. I was wearing a wool hat pulled down to my eyebrows and all that was visible were my darkened eyeglasses and the big face mask. Surely this virtual race and my masked-up face would reflect the sign of the times. In fact, the signage at the Little Red Schoolhouse just solidified my thoughts.

The flash fizzled a bit, so I decided to abandon that idea and peek in the windows on the other side of the schoolhouse as there was very little sun glare.

Wait a minute! Aren’t all the Michigan kids being home schooled?!

I thought it would be fun to get pictures of these two students gazing wistfully out the side windows of the schoolhouse.

One day I’m going to attend the annual historical buildings open house and get some photos of the inside, instead of always peering in from the outside.

Next up was the log house where I peered in those windows as well.

Next on the walking agenda was the Water Mill Building. I love the subdued color and the big waterwheel and usually take a photo of this building every time I walk at Heritage Park.

I spotted the first Canada Geese of the day strutting their stuff by the gate. In this picture which I took from across Coan Lake, I didn’t notice at that time the parents were minding their offspring. I thought they were simply milling around the Mill.

I quickly walked over to see if I could get a better shot of them, but they decided to move to the water’s edge. I got this picture which included a Tree Swallow who nearly photobombed that shot.

The two geese plopped into the water shortly after I arrived and quickly set out, their goslings obediently trailing behind Mom. Usually the goslings number around five or six, so I was a little sad to see only two goslings for this family. This was the only family of geese I saw at Heritage Park. I took several pictures of the family over the next half-hour and I’ll include them in a separate post.

Swallows were swooping, dive-bombing and photo bombing nearly every shot I took, but when I tried to take a picture of them on their own, they flew away. They move very quickly, so I was lucky to get one swallow resting quietly on a boulder near the covered bridge.

Next, I decided to stroll over to the Petting Farm and Botanical Gardens.

Heritage Park Petting Farm.

I don’t know if they were open for business or not due to the pandemic. I got as close to the white wooden fence as I could, craning my neck for a sign of life in the barnyard. A few non-screaming goats congregated in one area of the pen, while a sheep was baaing loudly – was he protesting something … a late breakfast, looking for his kinfolk? I don’t know, but that critter kept it up the entire time I walked the outskirts of the farm.

Taylor Conservatory & Botanical Gardens.

Just a few more months (and a little more warmth), and the Taylor Conservatory & Botanical Gardens will be bursting at the seams with colorful blooms, butterflies, bees and hummingbirds. I’ve been to the Botanical Gardens plenty of times in the Summer in search of hummers, but sadly they elude me, even on the hottest and most tropical-feeling days. I aim to take pictures of those lovely creatures, so I’ll be beating a path there once more flowers are out.

I wandered around the area, taking a few pictures of the now rather bare-bones landscape. A few perennials were up and blooming and hardy annuals as well, all adding a touch of color.

But fear not … a little TLC by the many volunteers and Mother Nature’s sunshine will be the ingredients for beauty to surround us in a month or so. The Botanical Gardens features music in the park all Summer; but likely these events will be cancelled, like all our other favorite Summer pastimes as the pandemic rages on.

I chatted with a volunteer who was bent over weeding a garden by this bench.

She told me the gusts of wind were not so great for “potting day” at the Park.

The Community and Good Will Gardens were barren, awaiting the planting of veggie and flower seeds, or plants by the hardworking folks who tend the gardens and reap the benefits by late Summer.

I’ve written a few posts about the gardens in the past and you met Mike who reserves two plots every year – one for his veggies and one for his wife’s flowers. I know all these folks are eager to get their fingers into the soil, but right now it is closed due to the pandemic.

I stopped to take a handful of photos before departing the historical area of Heritage Park. I like this old piece of farm equipment behind the Taylor Historical Museum.

I met the fellow who feeds corn to the ducks every morning and we chatted it up a little. I’ve written about him in the past. I mentioned I was doing my virtual 5K because last year he was a volunteer near the last leg of the race. I asked “where are all the ducks?” He said he’d not seen any either and was going to the feed store for more corn. “Well perhaps that will bring them back” I told him.

The very last stop in the historical area was the train station where the weathered boxcar and Fitz’s Caboose share the railroad tracks. The boxcar is in the foreground with the Greenwald Herkimer House in the background, enhanced by the Red Jade Crabtree, one of many flowering trees I saw on my trek. This historic house sells confectionaries and candles.

There was a man walking three beagles (or rather, they were walking him). They went past the caboose, which is next to the replica of the historic George Hand Train Station.

The beagles soon were baying, which piqued the interest of these two large dogs and they immediately stood at attention. Look how warm their owner/handler was dressed on the 9th of May!

Soon I heard them baying a second time, no doubt at this Fox squirrel that I treated to peanuts just a few minutes before – hope he got a chance to enjoy them before scrambling up the nearest tree.

Now it was time for my trek on the walking track.

I glanced at my trusty pedometer just before setting out on the asphalt perimeter path that encircles the non-historical part of the park. I knew from prior races it is 1.2 miles long and about 3,000 steps. I planned to do this walk on the track in conjunction with my steps already taken, in and around the other spots in the Park. It is not as scenic as when the 5K event is held in early June but here are some photos taken along the way.

I asked if I could take this young woman’s photo since it was Mother’s Day weekend and I smiled when I saw her hoodie emblazoned with “Dog Mom”.

Another event cancellation and not doable virtually is the Junior League World Series that has been held at Heritage Park every August the last four decades. This sign touts that event and the smaller signs document each winner since 1981.

I ended up walking 5 ½ miles altogether and that fulfilled my 5K obligation as part of those steps.

Even though it feels as though the rest of the world is shut down, a solitary walk is always enjoyable, especially with so much to see along the way.

[Images of Happy Soles Virtual Run/Walk logo and Fish & Loaves mission from Fish & Loaves website]

Posted in 5K events, COVID-19, walk, walking | Tagged 5K event, COVID-19, Fish & Loaves, virtual 5K, walk, walking | 52 Comments

Downy Delight on the Detroit River #Wordless Wednesday #It was Mother’s Day, but no ducklings, goslings or cygnets were here.

Posted on May 13, 2020 by Linda Schaub

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

Posted in #Wordless Wednesday, nature, walk, walking | Tagged Detroit River, nature, walk, walking, waterfowl, Worldless Wednesday | 34 Comments

Sentiments about Scents and Centsibilities.

Posted on May 10, 2020 by Linda Schaub

If you had a dollar for every social media meme you’ve seen since this global pandemic began, you could buy yourself a very nice present. First, it was the toilet paper conundrum, followed by social distancing. Soon the meme themes shifted to hunkering down at home and packing on those pounds referred to as “the Quarantine Fifteen” … now the meat shortage memes have begun to surface. One thing is for sure … those funnies have served the purpose of lightening the mood and passing the time during our stay-at-home daze.

For years, before our eyes ever encountered any pandemic-type humor, I’ll bet your inbox had a few of those vintage-type e-mails that featured a collection of remembrances from the 50s, 60s or 70s.

I got such an e-mail recently that began “you will enjoy this if you are over 60 years old.” Well, I could hold up my hand, since I am in that category. The gist of that e-mail was recounting products we enjoyed back in the 60s. There was a treasure trove of memories in that e-mail and I found myself nodding my head, while scrolling through those trends which ranged from food and drinks to games and clothing.

I lingered for a long time looking at games from back in the day. Oh yes … I played Jacks, Allies (a/k/a Marbles) and Pick Up Sticks.

Yep, I remember shaking the cereal box to see what prize was in the bottom, or begging Mom to let me order “Sea Monkeys” (which she called “plain nonsense”), so I moved on to some other distraction.

That particular e-mail was like taking a trip down Memory Lane. I could recall many of those items, not only because I ate, drank, played with, or wore them, but because of the TV and radio jingles as well.

But, as I scrolled on and on, suddenly my eyes alighted on an image of Evening in Paris cologne, a popular scent back in the early 60s.

That image stopped me in my tracks and instantly resonated with me, as I recalled a fond memory about that cobalt blue bottle with the pointy gold-toned cap.

I was a wee nipper wearing ankle socks and Mary Jane shoes …

Some events in our young lives are easily forgettable, but some have become golden memories. Today I want to reflect on a special Mother’s Day, circa 1962, and a special teacher named Mrs. Deakon.

This is a picture of our Grade One class and the beloved Mrs. Deakon.

I’ve written about this exceptional teacher a couple of times in the past. For kindergarten, a teacher is more or less a babysitter for our first time away from the comforts of home. There was not a whole lot of angst in kindergarten. Heck, school was a half-day session with naptime and cookies and milk. But Grade One – wow, this was big kid stuff. You removed your own galoshes, hung up your own coat and warm woolens in the cloakroom, sat at a little wooden desk and learned the three Rs and French too. Mrs. Deakon was exceptional – she helped us be creative and made learning fun. Like writing this story about our pets.

Of all the teachers I have ever had, Mrs. Deakon was my favorite. (Even though she didn’t give me a 10/10 on my story about Co-Co.) 🙂

Celebrating Mother’s Day back in ’62.

Mother’s Day was just around the corner and with that calendar date creeping ever closer, Mrs. Deakon helped us students create cards for our mothers, which we fashioned from construction paper and a whole lot of love. We drew a stick figure in crayon representing Mommy with a dress, maybe a chunky necklace, (the likes of garb and jewelry worn by TV cartoon character Wilma Flintstone), and, of course, we were standing next to Mommy, a much-smaller stick figure. A few flourishes of flowers and hearts were added, then we painstakingly printed our names and lots of XOXOXOs.

Mrs. Deakon admired our handiwork, then helped us make envelopes for our creations, which we sealed with more Xs and Os and mucilage. (You do remember mucilage from your childhood days don’t you?)

But our good deed for our respective mothers did not end with that simple card. Mrs. Deakon said she would let us “go shopping” for a special present for our Mommies. She wanted us to ask Daddy for a quarter to buy a present at school. I don’t recall if she sent a note home with us to give to him or not.

So, let the shopping begin!

When we arrived for class the next day, Mrs. Deakon had cleared off the top of her desk and set up a collection of small gifts that she had brought in for us to buy for Mother’s Day. When I think back now, I don’t know if our kindly teacher brought in her own gifts (thus she would simply be “re-gifting” them to us for our respective mothers, though I doubt that term was around back then), or, perhaps she had bought this assortment of items with her own money. It’s a sure bet that our classmates’ collection of quarters were not enough to cover the costs for the array of gifts displayed in our classroom, nor the gift wrap and ribbons either.

The only gifts that I recall being on display were one bottle of Evening in Paris cologne, some bubble bath and a slew of knitted items. The latter I recall as Mom loved to knit and often made matching cardigans for my dolly and me (and later, knitted outfits for my Barbie dolls).

Well, I was drawn to that bottle of cologne – perhaps I’d seen it advertised on TV, or on the glossy pages of Mom’s Good Housekeeping magazine. Maybe I just liked that pretty blue bottle, but I decided that would be the gift I chose. I never recalled Mom using cologne or perfume – she smelled of Lifebuoy soap and baby powder. I know money was dear in those days and cologne was probably considered a frivolous purchase. (Yes, I heard my parents talking, even arguing, about money and I was always warned any of their discussions overheard should never be spoken of outside the house.) My parents never went out for social events as they didn’t want to leave me with a babysitter and my maternal grandparents lived 25 miles away. My father only gave Mom practical gifts through the years, like pajamas, or a soup pot – one time he got her a griddle so she would make pancakes for Sunday morning breakfast.

My quarter yielded more than just a pleasant scent to dab behind Mom’s ears.

After we chose our gifts, Mrs. Deakon had even brought in some tissue paper and a little ribbon. She let us wrap our presents, making a bit of a mess as we grappled with Scotch tape and tissue paper that may have torn a little as we struggled to conceal our chosen gifts and make them pretty for the big presentation on Sunday.

On Mother’s Day, I remember I presented my card and gift and Mom had tears in her eyes and gave me a big hug and a kiss, then put my card and cologne on display. But, when her tears had stopped and she could speak again without the emotion of the moment choking her up, she asked where I got the gift.

My father, having witnessed this sentimental exchange, told her the story and I filled her in on the details of what Mrs. Deakon had done.

On Monday morning, after the school bell rang and we sang God Save the Queen, we were permitted a few minutes to tell Mrs. Deakon how our moms liked the cards and gifts. I will never know what possessed this teacher to do such a kind deed, but I am sure I am not the only one in that class, nor their mother, who has fond memories of Mother’s Day 1962.

There is a postscript to this little tale …

I presume I got a small allowance growing up, though I really don’t recall what I would have spent it on. We had no stores that us neighborhood kids would walk to. I wasn’t allowed to eat candy, so I guess I just hung onto it? My allowance was supplemented by the occasional dime from my grandmother, or money left in exchange for a baby tooth tucked under my pillow for the Tooth Fairy … hmm, I wonder what the going rate was, maybe a penny, a nickel or a dime in those days?

Mom’s gift made such a hit for Mother’s Day 1962 and by Christmas that year, I was in Mrs. Jamieson’s class, so there would be no more opportunities for gift shopping at school courtesy of Mrs. Deakon. I saved my money and scraped together the equivalent of a quarter and asked my father if he would take me shopping for a Christmas gift for Mommy. He probably thought it was a dumb idea and what could a kid get for a quarter if you were not relying on the kindly Mrs. Deakon? But I had it all figured out beforehand and told him we could just go to the grocery store. Once in the store, I searched up and down the produce aisles until I found what I wanted … the biggest Spanish onion in the bin.

It’s funny what you remember when you’re a kid – in fact your parents might even have joked that you had “selective hearing” (yes, you’re smiling and nodding your head).

My parents were 30 years old when I was born and I was an only child. So, with no siblings to distract me, I listened and observed a lot. Yes, I was mindful of what happened around me. Before I started kindergarten I trailed after my mom, watching her do what most other housewives did in the late 50s/early 60s … cooking/baking, cleaning, washing and ironing.

One time Mom made us grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup for lunch.

She had a huge onion and carefully sliced it onto the cheese before grilling it. She said “Mommy bought herself a treat when we got groceries. I got this sweet onion besides a bag of cooking onions and I’m going to slice some of it onto this sandwich.” That onion idea didn’t much appeal to me, so when she asked if I wanted a taste, I shook my head “no” then remembering my manners, said “no thank you.”

That conversation stuck with me, like that mucilage … so that is why I asked my father if we could go to the grocery store – that onion would be my first Christmas present I bought for Mom. I asked Mom for some paper to wrap up her present, and, on Christmas morning, when she unwrapped it, just like the bottle of cologne, Mom got tears in her eyes. I’m sure she remembered our conversation.

Mom was never big on flowers as a gift. Oh, I remember picking dandelions or buttercups and thrusting them toward her saying “Mommy, I picked these for you!” She’d be gracious about it, but she really loved oddball things like those onions … or Red Rose Mixed Sweet Pickles and tomato relish. That’s because she grew up in a household where, during the growing season, her parents “put up” green or red tomato relish that they called “chow-chow”. In late Summer, every weekend my grandfather was busy peeling onions in the basement, while my grandmother was stewing tomatoes over a hot stove. My grandmother didn’t like to cook or bake (I have her genes), but she rolled up her sleeves, tied on a big apron and really got into this project, just like her own mother did for years. The result was many Mason jars of green or red tomato chow chow that were lined up on fruit cellar shelves and they could slather it onto ham sandwiches, or eggs, or just plain toast. My mother did no canning or putting up pickles or preserves or chow chow, but she used to talk about how she enjoyed those treats. Whenever we went to a fruit and veggie stand while out on a Sunday drive in the country, she’d always be scanning their wares for a similar product.

One time I went to pick up some holiday goodies at the Honey Baked Ham store and saw they had red tomato chow chow. On a lark I got her a case of 12 bottles for her Valentine’s Day birthday. It made her smile and became a regular staple in this house until they stopped carrying it.

Happy Mother’s Day to everyone to whom this greeting applies.

Let me leave you with this quote: “Everyone has those random memories that make you smile.” ~ Anonymous

[Images from Pinterest. The rest are my own.]

Posted in holiday, Memories | Tagged Memories, Mother's Day | 76 Comments

Mama’s munchkins.

Posted on May 9, 2020 by Linda Schaub

As Mother’s Day nears, I am always happy to discover at least one pair of Canada Geese and their brand-new goslings to spotlight for Mother’s Day weekend. I’ve generally been pretty lucky to get a few shots for that special event.

Throughout April, in my everyday jaunts to Council Point Park, I diligently peered along the banks of the Ecorse Creek for swan and/or goose nests to no avail. I’ve always wanted a picture of Mama Goose sitting on a nest; maybe I need to add that sought-after shot to my “Birdie Bucket List” for down the road.

As you know from Sunday’s post, I glimpsed the first family of geese on Tuesday, April 28th, but had not toted the camera with me. The family was paddling in the Ecorse Creek and the fuzzy little darlings had formed a neat row behind one parent, likely Mom, with the other parent bringing up the rear to keep any stragglers in check. Geese are no slackers – the same day goslings hatch, their parents lead them to the water for their first swim. Those goslings were the smallest I’ve ever seen make their debut.

Generally, we walkers have our first gosling sighting of the year in a somewhat secluded area near the twisted tree. This is likely because this spot has easy access to the Creek if the family needs to make a quick getaway due to a predator. As the goslings get older, the families gravitate to the grassier areas of the Park where the whole family engages in non-stop grazing for another six weeks, before departing for the Summer.

After two days of rain and mothballing my camera during my Park outings for a month, I was anxious to return to the Park to get those coveted gosling shots for a Mother’s Day weekend post. Thankfully I did so, as it was the last day we could access Council Point Park for a while. I will wonder daily about the status of all the critters there – life will, of course, go on for them regardless of the pause we must take from the Park, but I am sure they wonder where their benefactors are?

Mama and Papa and their brood.

A week ago Friday, a walker pointed me in the right direction and I high-tailed it over to the twisted tree. There they were, a half-dozen goslings toddling after their parents. These wee ones, with their sturdy legs and big feet, run very quickly, and, after a flurry of shots, in past years, I often get home with images of gosling butts, beaks or just bodies, as they have run right out of the picture frame before I snapped the shot. 🙂 Their parents take it slow and easy on the Park grounds, leisurely nibbling on grass and meandering along. The only time they move quickly is for territorial fighting or defending their young ‘uns, should anyone, or anything, stray overly close to their babies. I’ve learned over the years to steer clear of the gander, as he vigilantly protects his family and is apt to hiss with his bright-pink tongue as he flaps his wings warning us to stay away. I will veer off the path every time, even if the grass is soggy, to avoid goose histrionics and/or getting myself goosed by the gander!

I admired the family …

… but didn’t have much time to take pictures as they were clearly on the move. Mama Goose had announced it was time for more swimming lessons, so, one by one, the family members waddled down to the water’s edge. Years ago, you could hear the goslings plop into the Creek, but the water level has risen so high the past few years, now they simply walk right into the water.

I got this photo as they paddled swiftly, churning up the water, but then the budding bushes got in the way, so I had to run down to an area that was more open to watch them.

The swimming lessons didn’t last too long. The family simply crossed to the opposite side of the Creek, with the goslings obediently following along behind a parent to explore a new site to graze and run around some more.

I turned my attention back to my walk and Parker, who alerted me with an accusatory stare, that he was there and ready to receive peanuts and I’d ogled the goslings long enough.

Well, it looks like I really lucked out – there was a second family!

As I took a picture of Parker’s shameless begging, out of the corner of my eye I noticed a second family of Canada Geese lurking in the bushes. Perhaps “lurking” is not the best choice of words, but I caught sight of the parents and noticed one of the adults stretching its neck out in a back-and-forth motion, a sure sign of agitation, most likely with my presence. So I backed off a bit, as my glasses were fogged up from the mask so I couldn’t see 100% anyway and I certainly did not want to tangle with any geese.

After stepping back onto the path, the gander relaxed and joined its mate where they were poking around the ground cover and sparse grass.

Their six offspring seemed to mimic their parents as they flipped over crisp leaves or twigs, filling their black bills with tender grass shoots wherever they could uncover them. A couple of goslings were already making themselves heard with loud squeaks and peeps, just a preview of coming attractions.

I took a few photos, knowing that the shady area was not going to make for stellar shots, but that was okay too – the already-fuzzy goslings might just look a little fuzzier from my vantage point.

I had just settled in to take more pictures, when the agenda abruptly changed as one parent had commandeered the contingent of goslings to head down to the water. This was not as easy for them to navigate as the previous family, as they were not right at the shoreline. I watched from afar through the brush while, one by one, the goslings gingerly picked their way down the slope and were soon afloat, once again in a neat queue with one parent up front and a parent bringing up the rear before they quickly disappeared out of view.

I finished my walk on a real high, the euphoria of seeing and photographing two sets of Canada Geese and their goslings, a pair of American Black Ducks, a Great Blue Heron, a Downy Woodpecker, a Cardinal, a Blue Jay, a Cottontail Rabbit and finally a collection of squirrels, of the Gray, Black and Fox varieties. I narrowly missed grabbing the image of a Groundhog (hey, you win some – you lose some).

Hours later, however, my euphoria was dimmed by the downer of discovering Council Point Park would be closed for an undetermined amount of time. Hopefully it is open soon to enable me to get some photos of the families as they grow up. I went to Elizabeth Park on Sunday, my camera in tow, and got some more gosling shots, which I’ll share in an upcoming post.

Posted in nature, walk, walking, | Tagged geese, Goslings, Mother's Day, nature, walk, walking | 63 Comments

Spring Bouquet! #Wordless Wednesday. #Be nice – no dandelions and violets for Mom!

Posted on May 6, 2020 by Linda Schaub

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

Posted in Uncategorized | 42 Comments

Um, where’s the salsa or guac for these chips?

Posted on May 5, 2020 by Linda Schaub

It was Sunday, March 15th when I made this trek to Elizabeth Park, then bopped across the Grosse Ile Free Bridge to spend the afternoon at the alpaca farm and the airport. You can read about that adventure here if you missed the post.

Really, I was not trying to pack in a lot of sightseeing in lieu of the Coronavirus, which was slowly beginning to set parameters on what we could and couldn’t do for our day-to-day activities. I was merely taking advantage of a sunny, clear day here in Southeast Michigan. Our weather is often changeable and fractious, so to have a great weather day on the cusp of Spring was almost unthinkable. Therefore, I seized the opportunity to get out and enjoy the day.

I strolled around beautiful Elizabeth Park and took a few scenic shots, which I’ll use in another post. But I had my sights set on taking some pictures at the tree with all the bird feeders, which I’ve nicknamed “Birdie Nirvana” so I was prepared with peanuts, sunflower seeds, (both oilers and shelled) and my camera. I approached the tree where the feeders were hanging, then scattered those treats on the nearby memorial stone, like I’ve done many times before. Then I stepped back near a tree in anticipation of the “wildlife” coming for breakfast.

There was a wee bit of action as a black squirrel scoped me out, as if contemplating whether my goodies might be an improvement over the usual calisthenics on the bird feeders with their pesky baffles …

… then he proceeded headfirst, inching slowly down the trunk, with its mottled-looking bark.

Meanwhile, from his perch in the same tree, a Blue Jay screeched a note of appreciation for the offerings and quickly flew down to grab a snack.

The black squirrel was clearly amazed (and annoyed) with the brazen Blue Jay’s presence, but meandered away from him and over to scope out the treats.

I got a few shots in, when suddenly, in the still of the morn, I heard a car door slam nearby, so I turned around. An older gentleman was approaching me and gave me a wave and asked “are you here to feed the critters too?” I nodded and said “yes, I just laid out some treats for them.” “I see that” he acknowledged with an approving glance to the ground, then held up a bag of tortilla chips and announced “I didn’t have anything in the house, and they like their goodies, so I brought these along.”

He struggled to tear open the bag and finally ripped it by using his teeth. Once the bag was open, he sprinkled its contents onto the memorial stone, mixing and mingling chips with some of the treats I had just laid down. There were plenty of goodies for our furry and feathered friends now.

We chitchatted about the beautiful Winter day and the tree with the bird feeders, so I shared what info I had gleaned for a blog post I wrote about this memorial stone near the tree, which honors a woman named Mary Ann Price. He was interested in that story and that caused more chatter, as I told him about my blog. During our conversation I learned we both lived in the same city, enjoyed feeding the birds and squirrels and regularly made a 15-mile round trip to Trenton just to enjoy Elizabeth Park. He said he sometimes brought his camera along with the treats; not today though. Today he brought his wife, whom he waved to intermittently, while she waited patiently in the car with the motor running.

During that conversation, the black squirrel had departed and unfortunately no more critters ventured forth. The gentleman seemed reluctant to leave and finally did so, and, as he opened the car door I heard him say “that girl comes here …” and then the conversation abruptly ended once the car door closed. She waved to me, as did he and they drove off.

Holy Guacamole! (Or lack thereof.)

Well, I was solo again and back to the business of waiting on more birds and squirrels to show up. Given the lack of critter activity, I wondered if I should walk an additional lap around Elizabeth Park, then return here. I opted to wait – it was Sunday after all so I embraced the expression “where’s the house on fire” … just slow down and relax!

Finally the black squirrel returned and scoped out the additional treats. He looked at me, then at the feast that awaited him. “Well, dig in kid” I told him.

He gave the offerings the usual sniff test …

… but tortilla chips were not his first choice – perhaps they were boring without a side of salsa or guacamole?

Suddenly the Jay came back for an encore performance of “How to Enjoy a Peanut” and taunting the squirrel just a little. Once again the black squirrel watched this wily bird’s scamming methods, but he wisely decided not to tangle with this peanut-eating foe, after taking a closer look at the Jay’s pointy beak.

Instead, he wandered over to the other side of the memorial stone to check out the goodies from that vantage point.

Peanuts rule!

Well, silly me … I was not thinking like a critter. My eyes could see chips all over and around the memorial stone, but my black furry friend’s nose quickly picked up the scent of peanuts. “Ah, peanuts – I’d love me some peanuts” is what he seemed to say as I watched his nose push aside the tortilla chips to grab a peanut and he began to munch happily. He must have been in his glory, since no other squirrels joined him for breakfast, nor did any birds.

This squirrel was in hog heaven!

So, hoping to salvage a few photos from this adventure, I took a slew of shots of Mr. Squirrel feasting on peanuts and seeds.

With no apparent prospect of more critters gathering ‘round, I finished up my walk and headed to the car and drove to the alpaca farm.

It seems peanuts rule, though I’m sure those tortilla chips didn’t go to waste and had a little salsa or guacamole been deposited near the memorial stone, I’m sure they’d have been a bigger draw – just sayin’.

A friend of mine recently posted this picture of a squirrel wearing a sombrero and serape. I knew I’d find an opportunity to use it and today, Cinco de Mayo, is perfect don’t you think?

Cinco de Mayo also gives me a chance to use this kinda kitschy photo of Yours Truly taken in Tijuana, Mexico four decades ago, in the Fall of 1980.

Hopefully a taco for Taco Tuesday is on today’s menu for you?!

[Photo courtesy of The Mind Circle]

Posted in nature, walk, walking | Tagged Cinco de Mayo, nature, Squirrels, walk, walking | 71 Comments

On Friday I was social distancing with my camera …

Posted on May 3, 2020 by Linda Schaub

… it was six inches away from my face.

This, despite a month of being overly cautious and deciding that it probably was NOT a good idea to be fiddling with the camera anywhere near my face. The State of Michigan, tenth most populous in the nation, still ranks high as to cases and deaths from COVID-19. At least we have dropped from third to sixth place – not that the sixth place stat raises my comfort level any.

However, I sure am happy I took my camera to the Park because, as wonderful as the walk began, it ended on a sour note – but more on that later.

So, anyway … I bit the bullet.

It was those first goslings that debuted at Council Point Park this week that clinched it. Tuesday morning I was walking along the perimeter path, then there they were – swimming in a neat queue behind Mom with a proud Pop bringing up the rear – there were five goslings in all.

Though the family was hugging the Creek bank and it likely would not have made a stellar shot anyway, inwardly I was mad at myself that I hadn’t brought along the camera for that “just in case” shot. I made up my mind I would return with my camera on Friday morning. Our Wednesday and Thursday weather was abysmal, so my next shot at taking shots would be Friday, May 1st.

I wanted to be the first one at my favorite nature nook and showed up later than I would have liked, but was bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, ready to get some Spring-y shots and hopefully gosling pictures for a Mother’s Day weekend post.

Well, Council Point Park did not disappoint with all it had to offer.

I stepped onto the perimeter path and right away saw two large dark objects in the bushes – they were smaller than geese, bigger than ducks – oh wait … they were ducks. They were American Black Ducks. We see them occasionally paddling away in the Creek, but they are not regular visitors at this venue, nor at any other shoreline park that I frequent. These are the first pictures I’ve ever taken of them. I researched a little and since both ducks have greenish-color bills, not yellow, they are females.

After at least a dozen or so duck shots, I was at the fork in the path – hmm, so left or right? I started on the scenic side, along the water’s edge …

A fellow walker approached me from the opposite direction and said “you have your camera today – better get to the bent-over tree as the baby geese are there!” Well, I’d have cut through the grassy donut part of the loop, but we’d had two inches of rain in as many days, so I just lit a fire under myself to get clear across the Park in record time.

Except …

I had to pass the cement landing, this time approaching from the opposite direction. This was clearly to my advantage. Harry the Great Blue Heron was ankle deep in the water, either gazing at his reflection, or fishing for his breakfast. I think it was the latter, as I heard a splash and movement in the water, but Harry came up empty-handed, er … empty-beaked.

Harry posed nicely for me – so sneaking up from behind did not cause him to bolt and squawk as he usually does. I wished I had a treat for him as a reward for his cooperation.

Having secured a few shots of Harry the Heron, I hurried along to see the First Family of 2020. Whew – they were still there, grazing on the lush grass near the misshapen tree. I arrived just on time, as a few minutes later they headed for the water. This photo shows a few goslings but I’m going to save the rest of the photos of the parents and their little darlings for Mother’s Day weekend.

After watching the family plop into the water, I whirled around to discover a second family of parents and goslings lurking in the nearby bushes. I took some more pictures, while hoping the gander didn’t take issue with me as the family was fairly close. On top of it, my face mask was steaming up my glasses and I couldn’t see too clearly, but it was all good … I got my shots and nobody got hurt (I’m talking about me here, not them).

The squirrels gave me about three minutes to ooh and aah over the goslings, then reminded me in a not-so-subtle-way, that it was feeding time and I had been MIA the past two days. One day they will learn to take a paw and point it to their mouth (just kidding). As you can see, Parker was feeling neglected and just a little antsy for nuts and used his “please feed me – I’m starving” routine to his advantage.

I spread out lots of peanuts, hoping to lure plenty of furry and feathered pals down to the pathway and it worked. In fact … it worked too well, in that in between snapping squirrel shots, I was missing the Jays, Cardinals and Red-Winged Blackbirds swooping down. Here’s some more squirrel shots as I know you’ve been missing them. 🙂

I put down more peanuts, but the Red-Winged Blackbird only made that prior cameo appearance, however the beautiful Blue Jay and male Cardinal returned for a second helping.

I was happily taking shots here and there, hoping not to miss anything (or anyone) but a roly-poly groundhog waddled by and though I saw it briefly, unfortunately I didn’t bring that image home with me, as he scooted into a burrow just as soon as he saw the whites of my eyes.

A male Downy Woodpecker studied me, gave me the side-eye, then stayed on task tackling his tree as he looked for grubs for his morning meal. I identified his gender by the red patch at the back of his head, which color was also handy to alert me to his presence in the tree – they are not loud birds like the Red-Bellied Woodpeckers.

So, I was doing pretty well, rounding up my furry and feathered friends to make it worth my while to have taken the camera with me. I took a few landscape shots, including some pretty blossoms …

… and endless dandelions …

… when suddenly a big bunny burst onto the scene and filled up my viewfinder. It was the first bunny I’d seen since last year, so another “first” on this trek. It stopped to munch a dandelion, then did a bit of primping.

I love the sun hitting those delicate ears.

I was so engrossed in my trek and taking pictures that I finally glanced at my watch – yikes, it was really late! The morning had zipped by and I figured I’d better head home to be on time for work. I was glad I had walked to the Park because I sure did not garner many steps while there.

And now for the “down” part of my Park adventure.

From the perimeter path, I saw a police car in the parking lot, but didn’t think too much of that as they patrol there from time to time. But, by the time I walked to the entrance/exit of the Park, that police car was parked horizontally across that only entrance/exit. My interest was piqued. Your Roving Reporter approached the vehicle to ask questions. It was my first day of masking up in a bandana and I probably looked like a bank robber, but my muffled words through the red fabric asked why he was parked there and if the Park was going to be closed? Before he could respond, I added “are you closing the Park due to the Coronavirus, coyotes or crime?” To be honest, I hoped his answer was one of the latter two. I don’t know that he appreciated my alliteration, but he heard me out anyway and said he had no details. I thanked him, told him to stay safe and left.

In retrospect, I probably already knew the answer as I stewed and fretted all the way home.

Later in the day I checked our City’s Info and Crime Forum on Facebook where I found a slew of comments about Council Point Park’s sudden closure earlier in the day and many were wondering why it was done? The general consensus was that the playscapes had already been cordoned off with crime tape back in late March to discourage kids from playing there; we also have metal adult exercise equipment on the other side of the Park which was similarly cordoned off. So why was a police vehicle guarding the entrance to the Park?

Well our questions were answered when the City website advised that due to a record 251 deaths from COVID-19 in our City, all parks had been closed down immediately. We have 22 parks in the City; some are just playground equipment, some baseball diamonds only, but Council Point Park is considered the jewel of the City. I feel badly for the missed joy I will have. I find happiness at this venue, in not only the beauty but my delight in feeding the various critters as well. I sure am glad I made the effort to take my camera and had such a pleasant trek on Friday.

Hopefully my favorite nature nook will re-open before the goslings are teenagers, or worse … when they fledge at approximately 50-60 days old and leave for the rest of the Summer with their parents. The goslings will grow in leaps and bounds, so that by the time they fledge, they are 25 times larger than they were at birth. Putting it into perspective, yes, they will be a bit beefier than we will be with our “Quarantine Fifteen” poundage in the same amount of time. I will hang out in the ‘hood and still go to larger parks on the weekend, weather permitting.

[Header image from Pinterest; the rest are my own photos]

Posted in COVID-19, nature, walk, walking | Tagged COVID-19, nature, walk, walking | 68 Comments

Swanee River.

Posted on April 30, 2020 by Linda Schaub

On this early March morning when I took photos of these Mute Swans, little did I know it would be the last time I gathered with a crowd for a while. So, would I have savored that trip a little more? I doubt it, because my weekend treks are usually solitary.

That morning, even before I arrived at this riverside venue, I had stopped to walk a quick mile at Council Point Park, and, after I was finished here at Dingell Park, I headed to two more boardwalks along the Detroit River and meandered along Biddle Avenue in bustling downtown Wyandotte. It was cold, but sunny, with a very blue sky. People were milling about, enjoying the fresh air. I put six miles on my feet that day!

Yes, there would soon be clouds on our horizon … but today there were eagles and swans.

Within a week of that enjoyable Saturday, the words “social distancing” and “essential” versus “non-essential” as well as the official medical term of “COVID-19” had crept into our vocabulary. Schools and most businesses closed; sporting and entertainment events got knocked down, one after the other, just like dominoes.

So, yes – it’s been a myriad of worries and “new normals” since that carefree gathering of eagle lovers at Dingell Park down on the Detroit River. There we were … all ages and genders, pressed up against the railing and huddled together under the pavilion. We were poised to see majestic eagles, as they soared high above us, and, collectively had itchy “trigger fingers” ready to press the shutter button to show our friends how we spent our early Saturday morning, while they might still be snoozing beneath the covers.

The eagles didn’t disappoint – there they were, flitting from tree to tree, mesmerizing us with their graceful beauty as they swooped across the flawless blue sky. People watched them behind sunglasses, some squinting with their naked eye, while others hurriedly clapped binoculars or a camera against their eyes for a better glimpse or shot of these regal eagles.

I similarly scanned the bare trees and sky for eagles, though I let my eyes occasionally drift over to the cove area where a pair of Mute Swans, largely ignored by the crowd, had slipped away from the Detroit River and glided into this small cove area adjacent to the crowded pavilion.

I took a few shots of the Mr. and Mrs., yet I was greedy for the bigger prize, that being a bevy of swans that I saw in the distance. From my vantage point, the photos I’d be taking would leave them looking like white specks on the horizon. I wondered if they would stray from their current spot to the pavilion area, and, if so, should I await their arrival? I told myself I’d give them about 15 minutes to get closer or I’d be leaving. I rarely wear a watch on the weekends, so to pass the time, I strolled along the crowded boardwalk while looking to take some photos of seagulls, but they evidently decided there was no food handouts and opted for another riverside venue which was more lucrative.

While dwelling on whether to stay any longer, I heard a low voice behind me say “excuse me miss, may I ask what type of camera you are using?” I was both startled and amused by his question, me the novice amongst the professional photographers who had set up tripods with lenses as long as their arm. So I whirled around to see a gentleman drinking from a tall paper cup which emitted steam and the aroma of coffee was wafting in the cold air. He likely had stopped at the nearby café on the other end of the parking lot. I responded to his question, then we chit-chatted on that topic for a while, then gravitated to the weather, the eagles and what not … it was all pleasant conversation. The gentleman drained his cup and tossed it into a trash can, then said “I’ve enjoyed chattin’ with you” and I replied “likewise – hope to see you again.”

Well, I got my wish – it was Swanapalooza!

During that conversation I had my back turned to those swans, so I decided to see if they had paddled closer to the pavilion area and sure enough they had. In fact, a contingent of swans, was the length of a football field away. Wow, did I luck out!

This was the first swan arriving at the entrance to the cove …

Once in the cove area, the swans dispersed … some strayed back into the Detroit River, while a few paired off like these two.

Several swans began diving. If you ever wondered why a swan’s feathers up to its neck are usually pristine and bright white, while that slender neck is so brown, well it is because they are always diving for aquatic plants to eat and digging them out of the bottom of the creek, canal, or in this case, the cove.