Flower power.

Posted on August 17, 2019 by Linda Schaub

“If you’re going to San Francisco, be sure to wear some flowers in your hair.  If you’re going to San Francisco, you’re gonna meet some gentle people there.”  [“San Francisco” written by John Phillips, of The Mamas and the Papas fame.]

I’ve had that song playing in my head for a few weeks now.  Here it is and it can be your earworm as well just by clicking here.  I liked seeing the fashions in the video too.

It all began when fellow blogger Joni wrote a post about Summer beach reads and reviewed Erin Hilderbrand’s novel “The Summer of 1969”.  Joni’s review referenced music, circa 1969, and we chatted back and forth about music and discussed this popular song from the late 60s.  This song was a big part of the counter-culture movement, in an era of hippies, and phrases like “make peace not war” and “flower power” and, while I may not have remembered the Woodstock event, I sure remember those phrases and this song.

So, the 60s was the era of flower power. 

Though I was not wont to sport a ring of flowers on my mousey brown hair back in the late 60s, about as “rad” as I dared to be was signing my name with a fleurish, er … flowerish, er … make that a “flourish” okay?  You see my parents weren’t about to let me do my own thing, much as I tried to persuade them about the cool fads of the day,  so I had to find another way to be creative.  Back in the late 60s, if you had a name that included the letter “i” … well you were in luck, as instead of the dot over the “i” you’d make a little flower, a simple daisy with petals and that was how you signed your name.  Yes, small things amused small minds back in the day (they still do sometimes to be honest).

I originally intended to visit a sunflower farm today and had my heart set on it, but early morning thunderstorms, and the threat of funky weather throughout the day, not to mention all the heat and humidity, had me scurrying out the door to Council Point Park and then hunkering down to peruse my picture folder. I’ve amassed a ton of photos the last six weeks and hobbled by my hectic work schedule and household mishaps, I’ve not had a chance to use them.

So, this bloomin’ post is about a trip to Lake Erie Metropark taken on Saturday, August 3rd.  I already shared the pics of the groundhog, fawn and a beautiful butterfly on the actual day I made the trek.  It was a hot Saturday and I was a little disappointed how much lakeshore flooding had encroached into the walking paths.  It was disheartening to walk, then have to turn back countless times due to mud or flooding and the red vinyl boots are not made for walking long distances. 

I thought of just leaving, then noticed a paved path where I’d never strayed before.  I kept walking and in the distance, I could see something yellow.  If you squint, perhaps you can see it in the distance.

Eager to explore that area, I kept on going, though I’d  been walking for several hours already and by now it was the heat of the day.  The temps were searing and the humidity was high.  (I would return home with a sunburn and enough fly and mosquito bites from the swampy areas along the way that I could have played connect the dots on my arms and legs.)

I could tell the golden yellow area was quite far, but I thought maybe it was a sunflower field, so that bright yellow drew me like a beacon and became my mecca.  I was still feeling fairly perky as I began in that direction.

There were so many wildflowers along the way, and the bees and butterflies were enjoying them, just like me.  I could only identify a handful of these pretty blooms.  I grew up thinking Queen Anne’s Lace was a weed, though many embrace it as a wildflower.

Finally I was getting closer to this bright-yellow patch of flowers …

… and then I was there.  I learned it was a “Grow Zone” geared to promote a natural habitat. 

A variety of wildflowers were nestled between the predominantly Black-eyed Susans.

After I meandered around the area and took a slew of pictures, I knew I had to head back to the car which was on the other side of Lake Erie Metropark at Cove Point. By then I was feeling just as wilted and bedraggled as these poor flowers.

I made it back to the car and turned on the A/C full blast, glad to sit down since my trek was seven miles (11 kilometers) altogether – whew, but what a wildflower extravaganza it was!  

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Reflecting on Woodstock 50 years later …

Posted on August 16, 2019 by Linda Schaub

“By the time we got to Woodstock, we were half a million strong, and everywhere there was song and celebration.” [Excerpt from “Woodstock” written by Joni Mitchell]

You’ve probably heard them already – those news reports focusing on Woodstock attendees, or Woodstock attendee wannabees, reflecting on that music festival held August 15–18, 1969.  I heard a great radio station retrospective marking the 50th anniversary of Woodstock.  Click here if you would like to hear that audio. 

As for me, I really wasn’t groovin’ to the tunes that were the likes of the musicians and singers featured during that first-ever rock concert.  In fact, at the time, I’d not even heard of most of the line-up.

Like most teenagers, circa 1969, I walked around with a tiny transistor radio in my hand or tucked into a pocket.  Tethered to the radio was an earphone that snaked directly into my ear.  Unlike today’s earbuds that give you stereo music by fitting into both ears and tuning out the rest of the world, the earphone went into one ear only, so it was just a mono music experience.  The long, skinny, covered wire cord hooked from the radio and ended up as an uncomfortable hard plastic piece that fit into your ear; if you jiggled it the wrong way it fell out.  But you were able to play your favorite tunes without your parents complaining about “your music” … so what exactly was “my music” in the Woodstock era in the Summer of 1969?

I know I listened to radio station WKNR-Keener 13 and every Saturday I’d run down to the dime store to pick up a free Keener 13 top hits list, and, if my allowance permitted, a new 45 RPM record to spin on my portable record player.  I was not really into the music of the Beatles anymore as their music had ceased being the fun-loving stuff of the mid-60s and had become a little more controversial. 

No, this 13-year-old was more into the bubblegum music of the day,  like “Sugar Sugar” or “Build Me a Buttercup”  or, I was swooning with the other teenyboppers over Bobby Sherman and his hit “Little Woman” or lovin’ Elvis Presley’s snarl and hip swivels while he belted out hits like “Suspicious Minds” or “In the Ghetto”.  In fact, if I close my eyes, I can picture those 45 RPM records spinning ‘round and ‘round and listening to those songs over and over.  Today I remember songs from the 60s and 70s word for word and can sing along to those tunes, but if I go downstairs to fetch something, I may get to the bottom of the steps and won’t recall what I went there for – go figure.

Unlike the moon landing when I, (just like most of you of a certain age), was planted in front of the TV watching that memorable event, I had to read about this historical musical experience through the years.  I was not here to watch the news clips about the crowds, or the music, as I spent the month of August 1969 in Germany with my father, who returned there for the first time since moving to Canada in 1950.  My grandfather died in April of 1969 and my grandmother, who lived in Toronto, came to spend the Summer at our house, so my father and I went on a little jaunt over to his homeland. 

So, while 500,000 strong came to Max Yasgur’s 600-acre dairy farm near Woodstock, New York to enjoy the very first rock concert, I was with Max Schaub, at a bier garden sipping watered-down apfelwein and tapping my foot to German Oom-Pah music.  I have photos,  albeit somewhat blurry, that memorialize that trip where we were enjoying torte at an outside café, riding down the Rhine River on a day cruise, or there I was bopping around the Alpine flowers and petting bulls in the Austrian Alps.

It was my first trip abroad – the scenery was beautiful, but I spoke no German and thus felt a little left out of the total experience as my father visited with friends and relatives who spoke no English.

I hope you get a chance to reflect on the era of Woodstock and read about a generation of folks who lived in peace and harmony while they enjoyed their music, a sharp contrast to concert attendees who might enjoy such a large musical event today – nuff said.

[Photo of poster advertising Woodstock 1969 courtesy of  Pinterest]

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New kid in town.

Posted on August 15, 2019 by Linda Schaub

So yesterday you saw a post about birds disgruntled with one another … who needs words when you see a pair of our feathered friends in silhouette and study their body language. Oops … did I just say birds have body language?  Their actions showed they were just like humans, bickering, but still ready to make amends, even though their mate (or friend) was not so amenable.  So that was a glimpse at discontent in the bird world … here’s a look at discontent between a somewhat ornery squirrel and a woman just offering kind words and jumbo unsalted peanuts.

Whenever I’ve strayed to other parks and am absent from my usual go-to nature nook for more than a few days, my favorite furry friend, Parker, will always approach me upon my return.  However, instead of him making a beeline toward me when I step onto the perimeter path, or, to begin dancing around my feet while I open up the Ziploc bag to fish out a few peanuts, I am meant to feel shamed  for not being there every day to dole out his treats.  Do I deserve such a chilly reception?  Hardly!  If there was a thought bubble over little Parker’s head, I’m sure it would read “great – you’re back; so have you been with other squirrels and forgotten about me?”

Recently, this squirrel featured above was at Council Point Park.  He looked a wee bit different than our Fox squirrels (like Parker), or the smaller, svelte and rather skittish gray or black squirrels.  This fellow resembled a Fox squirrel, but had tufted ears.  Here in Southeast Michigan we don’t have any of those cute, tufted-ear squirrels (also known as Abert’s squirrels), whose “hairdos” rival Albert Einstein on a bad hair day.

Hmm, so where did this furry-eared fellow come from?  Perhaps one of its parents might have scrambled into someone’s truck bed, traveled to the Mitten State, made itself at home here in SE Michigan, then looked for a mate.  That’s my guess, but who knows?  I even reached out to the DNR to ask if this was a type of Michigan squirrel that I’d never seen before.  They replied “Hi Linda – Thanks for contacting us.  Yes, this is indeed a Fox squirrel  To quote our staff “it just looks like he/she is having a bad hair day.” 

Just as I was curious about this furry friend’s appearance and those tufts of hair that grew around his ears, he seemed to be pondering my appearance as well.  “Should I trust her?”  She feeds the other squirrels and they are not scared of her.  Well, maybe I’ll take just one peanut, but I’ll back off if she comes too close to me!”

He reminded me of my grandfather who wore a painters cap on his head 99.9% of the time.  On a rare occasion when he removed it, perhaps to scratch his head, or for picture-taking after my grandmother said “Omer, take off that *&^% cap”, there were little tufts of hair over each ear, and the tips of his eyeglass frames were buried deep within that wispy gray hair, but I digress.

After some serious tail swishing and discernible angst over whether or not to proceed closer to the tall stranger who spoke softly and  offered peanuts that were nestled in the palm of her hand, his comfort level went up and he warily hopped onto the metal park bench and eventually noshed on those nuts …

… then dropped to the ground where I left him a little pile in exchange for these photos.

So, I left the Park that day, a collection of cute photos in place and a post bubbling around in my brain. 

The next day I returned and saw the same squirrel near that same park bench.  But instead of being personable, he had developed quite the attitude.  In fact,  it was as if we’d never interacted the day before.  He took one look at me and scrambled up into the tree where he glared down with disdain at my presence, and, on occasion, chattered angrily. 

So I similarly snubbed him, but in good faith left some peanuts on the ground.  I moved on while muttering “suit yourself – because of your attitude I won’t even waste my time naming you! ”

I turned around to find Parker taking in the whole scene, smug in the fact that he is still #1.

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Aloof – #Wordless Wednesday

Posted on August 14, 2019 by Linda Schaub

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Catch a tiger by the tail …

Posted on August 8, 2019 by Linda Schaub

Summer is flitting on by and I believe I have spent this entire season trying to “catch a tiger by the tail” as that expression goes.  I feel like I’ve flitted from one work project or house disaster to another, pausing way too long before moving on.  I feel a little like this beautiful Tiger Swallowtail butterfly.

Back in the day, circa late 60s perhaps …

…  I’d whine about chores like dusting or pulling weeds that I’d have to do while on Summer vacation from school.  My parents said “one day you’ll wish life was so simple” and, of course, I thought they didn’t know diddly-squat.  Besides, that was eons before computers were ever invented.  My latest conundrum is my work computer which had repeated fails yesterday … the fact that I was trying to churn out our invoices made no never-mind to that equipment.  It rebelled, just like I did (mostly inwardly) about those silly Summer chores.   

With all the mishaps and calamities here at the house and the workplace, at least I’ve gotten out to smell the roses.

Thank goodness for that.

I’ve tread those walking trails, feeling a trifle wilted, while wondering how those tropical flowers stay so perky?

But, I kept on walking, because I’d much rather bee among the flowers and out in nature, than at the end of the keyboard.  I always made the time to walk, despite being as busy as a bee.

That’s because out in nature is where you’ll find peace and you will feel peace from within.

But, right now I am at home …

… hunkered down, writing this post, while I await someone to reboot my computer at work.  I can’t reach that far away because my arms are not 13 miles/20 kilometers long. 

Truthfully I’d rather be rebooting my brain, albeit in this soggy sauna bath outside.   

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Meh day, Mayday!

Posted on August 4, 2019 by Linda Schaub

In lieu of two more mass shootings, I feel I want to lighten the mood that you and I are feeling this morning, so this little tale is being shared.  I’ll write a longer narrative with way more pictures, because you know I am long-winded, (oh yes I am), but these were my favorite pics from yesterday.   Saturday was intended to be another “me day” … I figured I earned it after the past few months of house mishaps and my busy work schedule.  It started off a little meh; I went to Grosse Ile and couldn’t find a place to park and walk, but I saw two bucks crossing the street at Horsemill Road and Canal Drive … I was in awe of that, but captured the images in my mind, not with the camera. 

I wanted to go to Elizabeth Park but they had the gates closed due to a two-day Jazz on the River event, so I returned to Lake Erie Metropark and spent four hours there.  I wandered along Cove Point, where I could, as there was mud and pools of water everywhere – I had on the vinyl boots, but they hampered walking, so I put on my walking shoes.  There was not much to see and it was already getting hot, so I meandered to an area of this park where I’ve never been before.  It was suddenly no longer a meh day, as I saw a groundhog, gorgeous patch of wildflowers, butterflies and a sweet fawn.  Oh yes, the “Three Tenors” were singing, er … screeching away as well.  I’m including my favorite pictures below, and then I’ll relay my latest tale of woe (thankfully easily resolved and far less costly or detrimental).

Last night, I sat down to chill a little … I say “chill” because I got a sunburn (ouch) and I just wanted a little R&R and to recover from my seven-mile (11 kilometer) trek.  

Then the chirping started.  I knew it had to be the smoke alarm.  Or maybe the carbon monoxide alarm because it was nearing end of life (ten years) … I have to find a comparable model as my electrical outlets are all recessed, so most models fall out and I don’t want a tabletop model.  This one had long prongs and never fell out of the outlet since it was plugged in a decade ago.  It was not the smoke alarm; it was the C02 alarm.  I figured “I’ll just pull it out of the wall and it’s going to stop” – nope, it continued to chirp every 30 seconds.  So I figured I’d just pull the battery out – no problem.  I had no directions as Flame Furnace plugged it in when I had them here on a routine visit and they were on sale for $25.00 and my former one had recently reached its end of life (in the middle of the night I might add).  So the Flame Furnace tech  plugged it in, no directions or box were left because he said to me “when it chirps, it is end of its life, get a new one.”  I flipped the alarm over, pulled a square thing out and it was still tethered by a mess of wires .. inside it said “you have removed the battery” … (really, I kinda figured that out for myself).  It continued chirping every 30 seconds.  Evidently it had a back-up battery. 

Next, I found the battery compartment and two arrows on the top – pushed them “up” in the direction of the arrows and the battery door cover broke as I could not grip it properly as my finger is still a little numb and not 100% normal yet from the June 28th “finger fiasco” which you know about.  There was no other way to access the battery – it kept chirping every 30 seconds … I thought I’d lose my mind.  I Googled the model number and there was no other way to remove battery but the compartment drawer cover plate which was now separate from the alarm.  I decided to put it out front on the front porch, and it was just getting dark, but then I thought better of it as I still hear the occasional fireworks in the ‘hood, or, what if someone went down the street and  flicked a lit cigarette and it was windy and it landed on the alarm and ignited the lithium battery.  Yes, I worry about EVERYTHING.  I went back and retrieved the alarm and put it at the side of the house … then it dawned on me that my neighbor could hear it … so I texted him from my computer and explained (in at least five or more 40-character texts) … I said if you hear a chirping noise, that’s what it is.  He texted me back that he retrieved it and it was in his garage chirping away.   

Have a great day!

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Sweets for the sweets…

Posted on August 2, 2019 by Linda Schaub

We turned a calendar page yesterday – the first of August felt more like a September day, with a cool and refreshing breeze.  I watched the crumpled, yellow poplar leaves skittering along the pathway.  Although I’ve whined about oppressive heat, (and the heat will creep back in early next week), I’m not yet ready to concede that Fall is on the way. 

I hustled down to the Park, intent on getting at least five miles in.  The sun is getting up later every day, so I must push myself to get out to walk timely while the good weather is here – yes I’m still chasing my goal of 1,242 miles/2000 kilometers. 

Since it was coolish out, I was not only the Peanut Lady, but the Nutter Butter Lady. 

I held off sharing these tasty tidbits when it was hot so they wouldn’t go rancid on the pathway if the squirrels weren’t running about due to the heat.  I must admit, after I polished off that entire package of Oreos the evening of my smashed finger fiasco, last week when the garage door slid off the tracks and then when there was no hot water Monday morning, I thought maybe I “deserved” Nutter Butters.  I eyed them, but decided I’d leave them squirreled away for my furry pals instead.  For a minute, I even eyed the Ferrero Rocher hazelnut squirrel my friend Ann Marie gave me for Easter.  I knew that chocolate would help cure my angst, but he looks too cute on the corner cabinet, so he’ll just stay put.

Parker greeted me in the parking lot.  His furry butt had been plunked next to some sparrows eating crumbs of cookies or crackers that perhaps a car had run over.  “Really Parker?!?!” I said as I proceeded to ply him with treats to get him out of harm’s way.  For those of you that have followed my blog for a while, you know that he was named “Parker” because he used to park himself in the parking lot on the days I drove.  He’d get peanuts on the perimeter path, but then he’d sit and wait by my car for more peanuts when I was finished with my walk.  He followed my lead to get out of the parking lot and it was then that I noticed he was favoring his left hind leg, leaving it up in the air as he scurried after me.  I didn’t notice that last Friday.  His foot was not broken or mangled in any way, and I saw no blood, so I guess, and hope, it is not serious.  But, nonetheless, he got an “oh you poor baby – I share your pain because I did an ‘owie’ on my finger.”  He quickly sorted through his treasure trove of peanuts and cookies, and cast aside the Nutter Butters, in favor of peanuts and began munching happily.

The other squirrels were energized from the cooler weather and two gray squirrels were playing tag and came over to see me, so I emptied the remaining contents of the Nutter Butters onto a park bench and nearby for easy access for them. One looked at me skeptically – I said “ya snooze, ya lose” so he scampered over closer to me.

I made the most of my outing, 5 ½ miles walked and I hated to come into the house as I knew I had a long workday ahead of me.  As to sweets and me … this weekend will be like a pie: a portion devoted to walking and taking pictures; a portion devoted to work as it is month end and the invoices need to go out; and the largest portion will be spent here catching up with posts by fellow bloggers. As to housework, it may be the crumbs of that pie. I think things will calm down a little after next week.

Meanwhile I’ll just keep my face to the sun and mosey along on these good shadow days.

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He’s back!!

Posted on July 31, 2019 by Linda Schaub

There is the phrase “Winter of our Discontent” … well this has been a “Summer of Discontent” … for me anyway. Among the other miscellaneous and sundry weather issues and things going wrong, the latest was Monday, when the hot water tank went wonky and had to be replaced. Since mid-June, it has been a series of mishaps, from the garage door, to the computer disk failure and my smashed finger that have happened this Summer. We’ve been incredibly busy at work and I’ve been staying later and later to try to keep up. On top of it, my heart was hurting for many weeks because I was missing my favorite furry pal, Parker, on the perimeter path. I tried not to glance at the hawks circling overhead – but his absence was felt. But then he turned up again – climbing on my shoe and wanting to attack the bag of peanuts that is in the mesh bag on my fanny pack. A ray of sunshine in a month of mishaps. Welcome back kid … you were missed!!

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Morning Munch.

Posted on July 30, 2019 by Linda Schaub

We all enjoy our morning meal in different ways – some like a healthy breakfast, still others grab a cuppa Joe and nosh on a donut. Some of us prefer leaves. I saw this groundhog Friday morning. He was so intent on grabbing a bite to eat, he didn’t see me right away and this is the closest I’ve ever gotten to this roly-poly guy who lives in a burrow at Council Point Park. Since we were about to enter another heat wave I guess he figured that I was not going to beat him up for the brutal Winter that lingered on and on and … well you remember it and if you didn’t live through it, you read my posts where I was whining about it. Enjoy these pics and your day!

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Meandering at the marsh on a sunny Saturday.

Posted on July 27, 2019 by Linda Schaub

“Best get while the gettin’s good!”  You know those wise words – you’ve likely heard that advice before.  Well, finally – five weeks after I originally intended to get out to Lake Erie Metropark – I finally made it.  The original day back in June was cool and crisp, but who knows what next weekend’s weather will bring? 

So, off I went to “un-muddy” my head and gaze into the murky marshland waters.  Unbelievably, I’ve not been here since Spring when there was ice over the cement pathway and snow along the Cherry Island Marsh trail.

The sun was high in the sky when I arrived and it was already 77 F (25 C) when I stepped out of the car at the Marshlands Museum.  I could have used those cooler temps from just a few days ago and I knew some serious wilting would take place before too long.

I parked by these bulrushes and Black-Eyed Susans and decided this would be my first photo of the day.  As I gazed at that flower you see up top, I thought its petals resembled Ol’ Sol’s rays.

Just as I focused on the flowers, as if on cue, a beautiful butterfly alighted on a twig right in front of me.  I believe it is a Viceroy butterfly which greatly resembles a Monarch butterfly. 

While taking that picture, something blue flitted past my eyes – it was a dragonfly and it perched daintily on a feathery Phragmites plant.  The slight breeze kept making this tall reed wave gently to and fro and the dragonfly, which I have identified as a “Blue Dasher”, was holding on for dear life.  (Either that or he was practicing yoga and doing sun salutations?)  

Well, I was fascinated with the up-close visit with this lovely creature and I lingered on, snapping more pictures (lucky it was digital images and not film, because my entertainment allowance would be shot for the next month).  Of course all the images looked alike when I got home, so I had to winnow them down to these few.

I finally moved on from my filmy little friend, albeit reluctantly, and I  swear that critter followed me, because when I stopped at the flower garden in front of the museum, there he/she was again, asking to have another photo taken, so I was happy to oblige.

Today I heard about the grasshoppers that have descended on Las Vegas this week.  I have to admit that I was at Lake Erie Metropark many times in the Summer of 2018 and never saw a single dragonfly and, as I walked through the marshy areas today, these Blue Dashers were everywhere. 

Along the way …

Next I went to see Luc, the resident eagle.  I chatted it up with him a bit and was glad to see his breakfast of white rabbit on a tree stump had not yet arrived. 

I then decided to walk the one-mile Cherry Island Marsh Trail, and to reach it I had to wend my way down to the boat launch area to begin that hike. 

For months, I’ve been hearing about all the lakeshore flooding at the Lake Erie shoreline, so I had no real expectations of hiking that trail as it runs parallel to the shoreline, and it likely was underwater.  However, I took the red vinyl boots along to christen them on the hiking trail, or at Cove Point, figuring I was no quitter.  I’d also heard that the algae bloom was supposed to be very bad in this venue. 

Well, let me tell you that those news stories were spot on.

The lagoon areas were saturated with algae bloom.  It encompassed large portions of the marsh.  I didn’t even see any ducks swimming in the areas where all the water and reeds were – who could blame them, as that green crud looked thick as mud?

What areas of the lagoons were not covered in green algae, were thick with invasive miniature water lilies called frog-bit.

Last year, there were tiny frogs sitting on the frog-bit water lilies and they blended right in.  There were no frogs today, just a croc.

Yes, you read that correctly! 

I did see a croc – why wouldn’t I?  After all, recently in Chicago’s Humboldt Park Lagoon, a five-foot alligator was enjoying the peace and solitude the lagoon provided him, and even had his own Twitter account (https://twitter.com/humboldtgator) with 2,700 plus followers.  Unfortunately he was captured and now  lives in Florida at the St. Augustine Alligator Farm.

Well, okay … I’ll confess that it was not a real croc, but a single croc of a pair of Crocs™ footwear.

Yes, I might have already been out in the sun way too long to have taken these pictures and shared them here. 

I was lucky to spot a Great Blue Heron taking in the sights in one of the lagoons.

Then I was alarmed to see just how many red leaves are already on the trees …

… and a substantial amount of leaves were on the wooden overlook across the dike.

Whew – it was getting warm and I finally made it down to the marina.

On the waterfront.

Down by the boat launch area is where you begin the Cherry Island Marsh Trail … er, where you used to begin it, when it was not all muddy.  A glance at the entrance of the trail, with its orange cones stationed at the beginning, was all I needed to know.  Should I venture anyway?  Along came a man and woman with their Golden Retriever and they decided to sidestep the puddles and walk through all that mud … no worries for them, but I planted myself there to see how quickly they returned … about two minutes and they were back.

It had been a significant, not to mention steamy, trek to get to the boat launch area, so I decided to hang out there in the shade for a bit.  I came upon a gaggle of Canada Geese who were grazing near the seawall.  They took one look at me and their radar went up – they all pointed in the same direction … toward the water.It had been a significant, not to mention steamy, trek to get to the boat launch area, so I decided to hang out there in the shade for a bit.  

One-by-one they plopped into chilly Lake Erie, a mass exodus from little old me.  “Oh guys – I know you are missing your flight feathers, but really – I am not a predator at all, I merely want your photo”  That didn’t matter to them.  And the last hangers-on were reluctant to take that plunge into Lake Erie, where the algae is not as plentiful, but it’s still a little funky looking.  They stood there contemplating whether to stay or go.   You can see I must have really terrorized them, because their reluctance and nasty looks at me says it all.

Usually there are lots of seagulls for photo ops, but there was only one juvenile seagull.  I inched closer to him, admiring his spots and black tail and while speaking softly to him, I got this picture, then he flew off in a huff, squawking his disgust with me being the reason for his hasty departure.

I wandered around the boat launch area and decided my trip was knot for naught.

I then made the long trek back to the car to drive to Cove Point.

I had been looking forward to seeing the lovely water lotus beds and I believed my trip had coordinated perfectly with their peak blooming time (mid-July through August), so I was quite surprised to find out there were no blooms at all. You can read about the lovely lotuses here in last year’s post if you’d like, just in case I don’t make it back again this Summer. 

I struggled to get the six miles in as the day wore on and it was 81 when I stepped back into the car.   But I got ‘er done and will write about the rest of my day in a subsequent post.

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