They were here yesterday...

Everyone slept a little late - it was Sunday after all.

We walked along mostly alone. Then a car drove by and we heard a deep "pop." It was like the sound of a can crushed under a car tire...not a high tenor or soprano "pop," but a deeper baritone noise. The car passed us and then we heard the "pop" right behind us.

Our ears have adjusted to the sounds of morning - birds singing, dogs barking, roosters crowing (three different roosters today), deer snorting, squirrels chattering, crows "haw haw hawing," air conditioners humming, sprinkler systems sshusshing, owls hooting (or trilling - yes I heard the screech owl today)....

But this "pop" was different.

It is a safety issue. There are sounds that are "different" and warn of danger and sounds that are "different" and signal nothing more than something new or unusual. Which was this?

"A newspaper thrown" reported DH. It made no sense to me as the sound was not "right" for the local paper. And the "normal" thrower slows at house after house to deliver the news...and at 5:30 a.m., not half past six. 

Ah, we discovered the difference - it was not the local paper, but the large Sunday edition of the news from the large city to our south. That substantial delivery was worthy of a baritone "pop" or "plop."

Relieved, we continued on our way to the park.

The Sunday-empty park was still and silent and we headed down the dirt road noticing a truck had wiped away old tracks in the dust (as ours from yesterday were gone), leaving a clean canvas for the wild things that inhabit our woods...lots of deer hoof prints and the mad dance of the skunk.

We entered the far meadow and encountered an empty space...or was it.

"They were here yesterday," I said. DH merely nodded, but we continued on our noisy way until I spied them in the high grass at the farthest edge of the meadow. Too late for stealth I still whispered, "There they are." DH saw them, but the pups did not. And the deer did not notice us for some moments. Then one looked up...then another. There must have been a warning snort. We did not hear it, but watched as the entire group alerted and then fled the meadow.

And then we headed home for breakfast.

A view of the sunrise from the far meadow.

Fuzzy seedpods of the bull nettle

Beautiful fluffy grass seedheads...



...closer...



Sunday sunrise over the ballfields



I know they are almost impossible to see, but they really were there...may need a new camera...