WALKIN', WRITIN', WIT & WHIMSY

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.

For such a graceful creature, they sure look less than graceful when they are turned upside down. 🙂

One Mute Swan gave me a perfect photo op, when it opted to swim close to its avian cousins, Mr. and Mrs. Mallard.

The Mute Swans were an unexpected treat, a little bonus for me when I was only looking for eagles and a seagull or two.

After taking a slew of swan photos, I headed to the car and onto my next adventure.

Posted in COVID-19, nature, walk, walking | Tagged COVID-19, Mute Swans, nature, walk, walking | 44 Comments

This choir sings a bit off-key, so plug your ears. #Wordless Wednesday. #They quack me up!!

Posted on April 29, 2020 by Linda Schaub

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

Click me for a smile.

Posted in #Wordless Wednesday, nature, walk | Tagged Mallards, nature, Singing in the Choir, walk, walking, Worldless Wednesday | 28 Comments

So, IF I had taken the camera …

Posted on April 27, 2020 by Linda Schaub

… I’d have had a lot of photos to share with you in this post.

It’s been almost a month since I instituted my self-imposed “no-camera rule” due to COVID-19. As I’ve mentioned in a few blog posts, I was filled with angst on whether to continue walking in lieu of the pandemic and our state’s ever-mounting deaths and cases from the Coronavirus. I weighed all my options and decided to continue walking, but mask up and not use the camera, to avoid fiddling around my face. The exception would be using the camera around the house, or maybe in the ‘hood if it was a good photo op and no people were around.

To ensure I was not tempted to drag the camera out of my vest pocket for any shots, I haven’t taken it along on my daily jaunts. Instead, I operate on the same principle like putting the rest of the package of Nutter Butters I “started” on Fat Tuesday, plus the Dove Valentine chocolates, into respective Ziploc bags and into the cupboard during Lent, thus thwarting temptation. Out of sight, out of mind.

But, knowing me, I was pretty sure somewhere along the line I’d be fussin’ and frettin’ that I didn’t get that Kodak Moment shot.

There is a prompt on WordPress known as #weekendcoffeeshare.

The headline says “If we were having coffee, I’d tell you ….” Fellow blogger Laurie often uses this prompt. So, I thought I’d model this post after that blogging prompt.

I went almost three weeks and didn’t see anything interesting, i.e. photo worthy, at Council Point Park. The landscape is blah, the “babies” have not made their debut yet … yes, everything is a little humdrum. You have to put on your rose-colored glasses to see past the mundane these days (that is, if your regular spectacles are not fogged up from your face mask – grrrrr).

And then there was last Sunday …

So, if I had taken the camera, I might have entitled this post: “IFOs” and that would have been the acronym for “Identified Flying Objects” and this is why.

When I arrived at Council Point Park, two dark objects were on the Pavilion roof. I squinted a little, while wondering if a prankster had put something on that very sloped roof? They looked a little like a pair of Canada Geese. No way! I raised my hand and shaded my eyes – sure enough Mr. and Mrs. Goose were walking around on the Pavilion roof. That is a first for me and it was funny because fellow blogger Sandra had just shown a Canada Goose in a tree a few days before and I commented that I’d never seen a goose anywhere but in the sky, water or strutting around on the ground. So I had time to complete one entire loop and they were still up there – guess this couple was social-distancing from their peers?

I must add that it was chilly and we were in the umpteenth day of high winds – we’ve had March winds all April and our April showers contained snow as well as rain. I swear the crazy weather has not been right since the Groundhog tampered with Winter.

I had barely stepped onto the perimeter path when I saw another IFO. It was a drone hovering fairly low, directly over three teenagers’ heads as they ran around the fenced-in baseball field, their eyes glued to the sky. As I approached where the boys were enthralled with the drone, a sudden gust of wind blew it off course and it flew over the high fence and aimed for a big tree where it spun out of control for a split second; mercifully I didn’t see any birds or squirrels scatter, but that drone fell out of the tree with a thud, its red lights flashing in the now lush grass. The boys, a quizzical look on their faces, saw me and I pointed and said “it hit the tree and was a goner.” One of them sprinted over to the tall chain-link fence, climbed up and over, then retrieved it in an instant. I had prematurely called it a “goner” as it was soon buzzing overhead once again.

I meandered along, no squirrels or birds coming over to greet me yet, but, as I rounded the bend I heard a large splash and noticed a spray of droplets as a male Mute Swan hit the water. He quickly composed himself, willing those huge, flipper-like feet to propel him on his way down the middle of the Creek. Effortlessly, his composure was restored, and with feathers smoothed down and a look of determination on his face, he was on his merry way just moments later. Of course, you know I cursed myself for not having the camera handy to capture this beautiful creature’s image; yes, I believe I would have pulled the camera out, despite there being many Mute Swan photos peppered throughout this blog.

A few minutes later I saw Arnie, Carol and two women walkers coming toward me on the path so I pointed to the Creek and told them to check out the swan. We all stood there, mesmerized by it as I told them of its ungraceful landing. Soon squirrels were gathering around our feet. We kept talking and our furry friends got persistent. Just as Arnie and I were ready to dig into our respective Ziploc bags, one of the women unscrewed a lid on a tall jar of Planters Dry Roasted Peanuts and sprinkled some near the squirrels’ feet. Arnie quipped “naked peanuts – you guys don’t even have to crack the shell – you’re spoiled!” Those squirrels cleared the morsels from the pavement in record time. It would have made a cute photo … had the camera been handy.

As I chatted with these walkers, an ominous dark shadow passed overhead and I glanced up quickly as Arnie called out “wow, a turkey vulture – look at the size of him!” That turkey buzzard was buzzing right over our heads and I could have counted and captured the freckles on his bright-red face, had the camera been within easy reach.

We parted ways, and, on my second time around the loop, Harry the Heron was fishing from the cement landing. His eyes were focused on something in the water, that long and pointed beak slightly open and ready to receive the fish he wished to enjoy for breakfast. I watched his fishing method and usually I’d be behind the lens, but this time I was not and he had my full concentration. Unmindful of my presence, he continued to study the water, his beak nearly touching the surface. I never moved a muscle, but then he saw me, totally freaked out and went airborne, squawking the entire way down the passageway. Harry was still another IFO in my morning.

The rest of this five-mile morning meander was uneventful, though I saw a plump Robin gorging itself on a fat worm. I watched the Robin stealthily snatch that worm and gulp it down greedily, while a wriggling and wiggling piece of worm was still caught in that bright yellow beak. Ugh – the image of the poor worm’s demise stayed with me the rest of the day. How I wished I could unsee the Robin’s breakfast feast – yes, nature is beautiful, but a little too raw sometimes.

[Header image from Pinterest]

Posted in COVID-19, nature, walk | Tagged COVID-19, nature, walk, walking | 45 Comments

It’s Arbor Day –so why dontcha hug a tree?

Posted on April 24, 2020 by Linda Schaub

On my recent jaunts through the neighborhood, I can’t help but notice something new and different on many of the trees. There are odd new appendages that don’t look like bark, branches or buds … nor are they bugs or grubs or birds … hmm, what are they then?

Those “appendages” are white ribbons, part of the white-ribbon campaign to support our healthcare workers and first responders during this COVID-19 pandemic. I’ve seen curling ribbon adorning tiny tree branches, to huge bows with wide ribbon encircling large tree trunks, especially all along Pagel Avenue. There are no white ribbons or bows on my street and I am similarly at fault. I had no ribbons or bows at hand, so I have to honor these folks in spirit only.

The tying of a ribbon around a tree or post is certainly no new concept, and, if I might reach back in time once again, like I did earlier this week for the first Earth Day in 1970, I remember well when Tony Orlando and Dawn’s song first hit the music charts. In fact, this was the #1 song in the U.S. and U.K. in this month of April 1973.

I still know the words to “Tie a Yellow Ribbon Round the Ole Oak Tree” and I’ll bet you do too (if you’re a certain age that is). The first few notes make it easily identifiable, and, if I had a dollar for every time I’ve heard this tune through the years, I’d be a rich woman.

In a world now consumed by worry about the Coronavirus, many remember how yellow ribbons gave props to military personnel through the years. On Memorial Day weekend 2014, I did a post about a military family that kept their faith strong by adorning a tree and pillar with yellow ribbons. A sign out front and a service flag displayed in the window identified them as a family with a loved one in harm’s way.

This is similar to how the white ribbons look now – perhaps you have some in your neighborhood?

Spring continues to load slowly …

We’ve had a spate of ugly weather the last ten days or so … excessive wind, relentless rain and sleet. Tuesday morning, graupel had me in its grips when a suddenly bright and sunny sky saw a dark gray cloud move in and the pellets were soon a’flyin’ and pinging off my clothes, toes, nose – you name it. I had chosen to drive to the Park that day to give the car a small run. By the time I reached my car at the other end of the parking lot, pellets were deep into the window well and swirling around the ground. My glasses were fogged up from the face mask and, as I sat in the car while waiting for them to clear, I felt like you do when going through the car wash, only awash in tiny ice balls instead of water. Yikes! By the time I got home, just a mere mile away, the sun was still out, the pavement was bone dry – what just happened here?

The wind has wreaked havoc with the ornamental trees in the ‘hood, those beauties, whose blossoms spill over from weeping branches in a frothy haze in many shades of white or pretty pinks. This is a Weeping Cherry tree that I’ve admired for years and one of a few photos I’ve taken of it in the past.

The homeowner usually has planted cold-weather pansies around his beautifully landscaped front yard by now, but all our garden centers remain closed, at least until the end of the month, due to an Order from the Governor and much to the chagrin of most local gardeners.

This tree pictured below is an “early bloomer” as well and often full of singing Starlings as I round the last bend on Pagel Avenue, enroute to Council Point Park.

In recent treks through the ‘hood I’ve seen these ornamental trees assaulted by wicked winds, pelting sleet or graupel and to top it off, we had a hard freeze early Wednesday morning. A few homeowners had put a protective covering over their ornamental trees to keep them looking good. Thankfully, it’s a bit early for the magnolia trees to bloom or else their petals would be similarly scattered to the wind. They are just in bud now.

I had to chuckle to myself when the weatherman quipped that “Mother Nature is in a March state of mind.” The weather, like everything else, continues to boggle our minds. Stay safe.

[The tree hugger is courtesy of Pinterest; it is not a selfie of Yours Truly]

Posted in COVID-19, event, nature, walk, walking | Tagged Arbor Day, COVID-19, Hope, nature, Trees, walk, walking | 48 Comments

It’s Earth Day 2020.

Posted on April 22, 2020 by Linda Schaub

At the present time, there’s something else we humans all have in common – no, it’s not the fact that we are immersed in this pandemic. Sandwiched in between all the bad news these days, you might just find “Earth Day 2020 – 50th Anniversary” trending on social media. It is a worldwide event to embrace Mother Earth.

How many of you remember the first Earth Day back in 1970?

I don’t remember what, if anything, was done at school to celebrate the day, but I do recall our local grocery store, Farmer Jack, was handing out evergreen seedlings and invited all its customers to come and get one to commemorate the first Earth Day.

I went and got a seedling, planted it in a pot, with visions of that seedling growing up to be a Christmas tree one day. But unfortunately, even though it had a primo sunny spot, it never looked half as good as ol’ Charlie’s Brown’s Christmas tree.

Our current COVID-19 pandemic may have wreaked havoc on our respective lives and livelihoods, but for many, the chance to be unburdened from the day-to-day normal activities during this down time and to step out into nature has been a blessing in disguise. Hopefully your respite in a woodsy nook has fostered an enjoyment of natural settings and will become a habit long after our current health crisis is over.

I’ll leave you with a quote by Jeopardy host Alex Trebek:

“If you can’t be in awe of Mother Nature, there’s something wrong with you.”