Attempts to do chores today were thwarted by a return of plumbing issues so we gladly gathered up our gear for a long walk. We packed water and dog treats and a camera (with a low battery unfortunately - so no pics from me. TDW took a few) and boonie hats. And we timed our arrival perfectly. TDW pulled up right behind us.
We have missed our walks with the pack - seems like it has been forever since we were at the springs.
The park was full of walkers and cyclists, but everyone was "dog friendly." [This crowd of dogs is "people friendly" and TDW takes it rather personally when people do not respond positively towards them.] Hugo raced a few bicycles and Paddy seemed to be the social butterfly visiting with wading children and hikers. She only jumped up once and was quickly called down (and calmed down). Everyone else just wandered around and politely yielded right-of-way to the wheeled ones and runners.
We headed into the prairie hoping we would stay out of the way for a while. It is interesting, this attempt to regrow prairie grass after years of reckless land use. We were told by the brother of a friend that the area was used for dirt bikes and off-road vehicles and was once just dirt - flat areas of dirt and slight mounds of dirt. Now the grasses and wildflowers are back, providing habitat for birds and rodents, insects and arachnids, snakes and deer, and coyotes and other predators. We only cut through the meadow during the cool weather when snakes are sleeping (hopefully). And we did so today as the dogs followed deer scent up towards the rock outcroppings and down to the river.
We turned a corner on the trail and discovered a co-worker walking with a youngster. It was the kindergartner's first trip to the springs and he was full of excitement, reaching into his pocket to share with us the wonderful rock he found. Later, at the bridge we ran into another co-worker, there with her brother and nephews. It is unusual to see people we know in this park. But this was a weekend of seeing friends in unexpected places.
Skipping the cliff areas, the dogs led us down to the river and back to the cars. TDW took a few photos of DH and me. I am sure we are a sight in our floppy hats and sweaty dog-walking gear. Still it is who we are.
In our hasty loading-up we forgot our trash bags. We saw plenty of trash, but not as much as on previous trips. I picked up one palm-sized shard of glass, pointed on each end, but it was only one piece of glass. I feel as if I did not do my part.
The dogs could barely climb in the car after this "wild rumpus." Or perhaps they were not ready to leave their friends. Whatever the case they are napping now and likely dreaming of rabbits not chased and deer hiding in the deep grass.
Sunday, February 24, 2013
Sunday morning
It was a lovely cool morning as we walked towards the warm pink glow of the sunrise.
The pups acted as if it was their first walk - ever. I am a guilty pet owner...we have neglected all our exercise lately - travel, bad weather, virus or two, and oversleeping are our excuses and we are sticking to them.
But this morning DH was sore and creaky from a day of exercise on Saturday and I felt I owed him (and the dogs) the warm-up of a walk to the park. We plan a long romp at the springs this afternoon and a lazy morning might just hold over. [Isn't that physics? A body in motion...a body at rest...and all that...]
So we walked. The morning birds called in that melodious squeak - like "the big swings" at the park where we played as children. One sang out in Mrs. G's yard across the street and another answered in our yard. I could almost see the swings with my siblings kicking up higher and higher as the "Eee-ah, Eee-ah" noise repeated (and likely drove my parents crazy). My sister always went higher than the rest and would jump out of the swing - flying with abandon - giggling a challenge to the rest of us.
A late newspaper was dropped behind us with a loud "plop!" bringing me back to this day.
Few cars were out, but we heard sirens while we were in the park. Neighborhood dogs took up the howl and ours listened with some surprise. [One always wonders what those wailing warnings mean - fire? injury? death? false alarm? Our answer came on the way back home - emergency call to the nursing home].
There were piles of rough construction sand in the park. Then we noted arrows and lines and incomprehensible words spray painted along the road and staked survey flags in spots. What is the plan here? Will they widen the road or create a new parking area? How much of the park will be sacrificed to concrete and asphalt?
We turned our backs on the park proper as I brushed the sand off my hands.
Paddy and Scruffy tried to run down every deer trail along the dirt road, and take me with them. They have been spoiled by the outings at the springs, where they can follow scents and flush game with almost wild abandon. Here we must obey the rules (well, most of them) and mind our manners. Staying on-leash may be frustrating, but it keeps the walk to an hour (Paddy-girl has disappeared on us in this park. She is no longer trustworthy. It only takes one rowdy to ruin it for everyone.).
On the way back we talked about the day ahead and I thought about our little gang - two big dogs, one raggedy walker, and DH in a different camo pattern almost every walk. He is the fashionable one. Today was a long German overcoat. DH demonstrated how the zipper was designed well, just long enough so the wearer can still reach in his pockets.
One of our older neighbors we have missed for some time slowly walked down her porch stairs and into the yard for her newspaper. We had worried about her as for a few weeks the papers were piled in her yard. And we had not seen her. She worked with DH years ago and, in recent years, she worked the polls at election time and competed with me for neighborhood figs. DH and I shared a relieved sigh. We exchanged a few words with her - "Pretty dogs." "Good to see you!" and the like.
Home again - chores await.
The pups acted as if it was their first walk - ever. I am a guilty pet owner...we have neglected all our exercise lately - travel, bad weather, virus or two, and oversleeping are our excuses and we are sticking to them.
But this morning DH was sore and creaky from a day of exercise on Saturday and I felt I owed him (and the dogs) the warm-up of a walk to the park. We plan a long romp at the springs this afternoon and a lazy morning might just hold over. [Isn't that physics? A body in motion...a body at rest...and all that...]
So we walked. The morning birds called in that melodious squeak - like "the big swings" at the park where we played as children. One sang out in Mrs. G's yard across the street and another answered in our yard. I could almost see the swings with my siblings kicking up higher and higher as the "Eee-ah, Eee-ah" noise repeated (and likely drove my parents crazy). My sister always went higher than the rest and would jump out of the swing - flying with abandon - giggling a challenge to the rest of us.
A late newspaper was dropped behind us with a loud "plop!" bringing me back to this day.
Few cars were out, but we heard sirens while we were in the park. Neighborhood dogs took up the howl and ours listened with some surprise. [One always wonders what those wailing warnings mean - fire? injury? death? false alarm? Our answer came on the way back home - emergency call to the nursing home].
There were piles of rough construction sand in the park. Then we noted arrows and lines and incomprehensible words spray painted along the road and staked survey flags in spots. What is the plan here? Will they widen the road or create a new parking area? How much of the park will be sacrificed to concrete and asphalt?
We turned our backs on the park proper as I brushed the sand off my hands.
Paddy and Scruffy tried to run down every deer trail along the dirt road, and take me with them. They have been spoiled by the outings at the springs, where they can follow scents and flush game with almost wild abandon. Here we must obey the rules (well, most of them) and mind our manners. Staying on-leash may be frustrating, but it keeps the walk to an hour (Paddy-girl has disappeared on us in this park. She is no longer trustworthy. It only takes one rowdy to ruin it for everyone.).
On the way back we talked about the day ahead and I thought about our little gang - two big dogs, one raggedy walker, and DH in a different camo pattern almost every walk. He is the fashionable one. Today was a long German overcoat. DH demonstrated how the zipper was designed well, just long enough so the wearer can still reach in his pockets.
One of our older neighbors we have missed for some time slowly walked down her porch stairs and into the yard for her newspaper. We had worried about her as for a few weeks the papers were piled in her yard. And we had not seen her. She worked with DH years ago and, in recent years, she worked the polls at election time and competed with me for neighborhood figs. DH and I shared a relieved sigh. We exchanged a few words with her - "Pretty dogs." "Good to see you!" and the like.
Home again - chores await.
Tuesday, February 12, 2013
Whale watching and lorikeets
I. In hopes to find riches in hunting the whale*
II. At the Aquarium of the Pacific***:
NOTES:
* Farewell to Tarwathie, by George Scroggie, Adaptation by Judy Collins
** Lewis Carroll, The Walrus and the Carpenter http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/16096
***http://www.nmfs.noaa.gov/pr/species/mammals/cetaceans/finwhale.htm
****http://www.aquariumofpacific.org/
 |
| Lots of gulls at the dock |
 |
| DH and YC watch from railing as we pass the first lighthouse (there were 3). |
 |
| Passing the Queen Mary |
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| DH looks out to sea. Lots of sailboats within the breakwater. |
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| Another lighthouse. |
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| Tall ship just outside the breakwater. |
 |
| The sun was shining on the sea Shining with all its might...** |
 |
| There she blows? |
 |
| There she blows - Fin whale*** and blow |
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| It was a rocky trip. |
 |
| There she blows again. |
 |
| Fin whale |
 |
| Water bird - far out |
 |
| Sailboat and DH |
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| YC and DH watching as we head back to shore |
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| Water birds drying their wings near the dock. |
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| Sailboat at dockside |
II. At the Aquarium of the Pacific***:
 |
| Youngster feeds lorikeet |
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| Lorikeets |
 |
| Another young man feeding lorikeet. |
 |
| Playing hard to get |
 |
| Well, maybe I will try just a little. |
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| YC finally gets a lorikeet to ride on her hand. |
 |
| Petting sharks. |
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| Jellyfish |
 |
| Jellyfish |
 |
| Shark |
NOTES:
* Farewell to Tarwathie, by George Scroggie, Adaptation by Judy Collins
** Lewis Carroll, The Walrus and the Carpenter http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/16096
***http://www.nmfs.noaa.gov/pr/species/mammals/cetaceans/finwhale.htm
****http://www.aquariumofpacific.org/
Saturday, February 9, 2013
Trepidation, or will she find her sea legs?
Let's go see the whales!
Some five years ago a co-worker and I attended a conference in San Diego. We bought tickets to go on a small boat to watch the whales along the coast. Unfortunately the beautiful weather we had been experiencing for days turned nasty and no boat would go out that day, our only opportunity. Our money was refunded. Our hopes dashed. [There is a bit of a lie here. I had been terrified, but willing.]
The weather during this conference just ended - in Anaheim - was lousy. Overcast sky or pouring rain greeted us every day. We scarcely left the conference center anyway, but it did not bode well for the extra few days I elected to remain in "sunny California" to visit YC*.
Again I spoke those words, "Let's go see the whales?" I threw out all kinds of options for our short time-off. And my fellow travelers took the bait.
Of course, other than sturdy shoes and motion sickness medicine (OK, I already acknowledged my "wuss-ness" above) I brought only conference-attending and "mom" attire. I was not prepared for cool/windy boat travel.
After dinner last night we shopped for warm clothing - hat and gloves and jacket. The weather forecasters reported that overnight the weather would break in our favor. So we purchased our whale watching tickets and slept.
I addressed DH at breakfast, "I approach this adventure with trepidation." He smiled, chuckled, and changed the subject as we finished our coffee.
Then we dressed in our warm clothing, picked up YC, and headed south to Long Beach to the dock near the Aquarium of the Pacific. http://www.aquariumofpacific.org/ .
We arrived on time, lined up and waited to board our boat. Unfortunately, we were not close enough to the front of the line to get 3 seats on the upper deck. We only managed one. But DH said that we would do best to be on the upper deck. So one member of our party would sit while the others stood at the railing.
When I went to the railing soon after we got underway, I slipped my camera strap through the right thumb hole of the middle layer of clothing, knotting it to the opening (didn't want to go through what was to come and have no photos to prove it). Then I gripped the railing for dear life and did not move from the spot until we turned for the harbor.
DH made suggestions to assist me in finding my "sea legs." but I could only watch the ocean and responded accordingly. Inside the harbor, within the protection of the longest breakwater in the U.S., the ride was relatively smooth. Of course we were moving slowly as we passed sailboats and tugboats. I thought to myself, "This is nothing. I worried for naught."
We saw a freighter and an oil tanker anchored outside the harbor and a tall ship moving slowly just off our starboard.
The captain reported a swell outside the breakwater. In case you are not aware a "swell" in ocean terms is not SWELL. It means that the second you pass the man made harbor protection you are on a roller coaster ( I like the comparison to a bucking bronco too so I add it here in case that description clarifies the experience better for you).
YC kept suggesting I sit down. I knew that would be a mistake (I would have to somehow traverse the 3 feet from railing to seat without falling down or worse). I clutched the railing bare-handed for a better grip. My feet tried to force themselves through the soles of my shoes to grip the deck. I bent my knees according to DH's suggestion and tried to move with the rocking of the boat and the rolling of the sea.
We slammed hull to water** as we breached each swell, children shrieking and then giggling. The captain was in a hurry.
We headed out to the spot where an earlier tour had seen whales. They had seen lots of whales - Fin whales*** (although we prefer to call them Finn whales). And the crew expected to seem them still feeding in the area.
We watched and waited. We listened to the lovely naturalist/conservationist/scientist/marine biologist (sorry, I was trying not to fall overboard as we crashed over the "swells" so I don't remember his credentials) talk about this and that, and tell us what kind of creatures we might see.
And then we heard the cry, "There she blows!"
Plumes of salt spray rose in the air - unmistakable.
The whales were here.
While the Fin whale is generally solitary, or at least rarely seen with more than one or two companions, we were seeing blows, all around us. And they estimated at least 9 Fin whales were in the immediate area.
The captain**** navigated the boat closer to one small group of whales and we would spy another off in the distance. I surprised myself spotting two off to the right as everyone was watching those in front of the boat, but then I grew up watching - competing with my siblings to be the first to spy some animal or other on family hunting/camping trips.
We finally were within 50 feet of a couple of them - they would blow, and blow, and then almost fully surface preparing for a deep dive (unlike other whales, the Fin whale does not usually show its fluke as it dives). And the watchers on the boat would exclaim and sigh and strain for another view.
It was wonderful. It was worth braving the pitching of the ocean (and continued wobbly legs this evening) to see these awesome creatures.
We also saw pelicans and seagulls and birds I will try to identify from blurry images I may have captured in spite of the movement of the boat. YC was the first to spot a sea otter who floated on his back next to the boat. At different points in the trip we were approached by three different seals. They seem to glide through the water with joyful abandon.
The trip back to harbor was deceptive. We were no longer fighting the swells, but traveling with them. We would see a rise in the water overtake us and move beyond the boat creating the illusion that we were floating in place. Only the approach of the cliffs, and lighthouses, and ships anchored off-shore indicated that we were making any headway.
As we left the boat we tried to signal to the people waiting to board next. We gave them thumbs-up and nodded our heads. Yes, yes, the whales are out there. The whales are waiting for you.
NOTES:
*Youngest child suggested I call her dearest youngest child, however that would be silly as (dear as she is) she is our ONLY youngest child (a same-aged sibling being 8 minutes older) and it would give her the acronym DYC which is simply not appropriate.
**Thank heavens for dimenhydrinate http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dimenhydrinate! I took a dose as directed while others merely wish they had.
*** See http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fin_whale
Also see http://www.mobydickthewhale.com/cetology/fin-back-whale.htm wherein Herman Melville writes of this species "The Fin-Back is not gregarious. He seems a whale-hater, as some men are man-haters. Very shy; always going solitary; unexpectedly rising to the surface in the remotest and most sullen waters; his straight and single lofty jet rising like a tall misanthropic spear upon a barren plain; gifted with such wondrous power and velocity in swimming, as to defy all present pursuit from man; this leviathan seems the banished and unconquerable Cain of his race, bearing for his mark that style upon his back." Book 1 Chapter 3, Moby Dick
****The captain (Captain Carl Mayhugh) maintains a blog where he posts sighting information and photos. Our trip was Feb. 9, 2013. He took some lovely photos of the whales. http://blog.coastal-explorer.com/2013/02/09/fin-whales-and-dolphins.aspx
[A trip to the aquarium followed the whale watching - where we fed the lorikeets (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lories_and_lorikeets), petted the sharks and rays, and stood mesmerized by the jelly fish - God's lava lamps (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lava_lamp).]
Photos will follow. I must edit as some are of the deck, some are at odd angles, some...
Some five years ago a co-worker and I attended a conference in San Diego. We bought tickets to go on a small boat to watch the whales along the coast. Unfortunately the beautiful weather we had been experiencing for days turned nasty and no boat would go out that day, our only opportunity. Our money was refunded. Our hopes dashed. [There is a bit of a lie here. I had been terrified, but willing.]
The weather during this conference just ended - in Anaheim - was lousy. Overcast sky or pouring rain greeted us every day. We scarcely left the conference center anyway, but it did not bode well for the extra few days I elected to remain in "sunny California" to visit YC*.
Again I spoke those words, "Let's go see the whales?" I threw out all kinds of options for our short time-off. And my fellow travelers took the bait.
Of course, other than sturdy shoes and motion sickness medicine (OK, I already acknowledged my "wuss-ness" above) I brought only conference-attending and "mom" attire. I was not prepared for cool/windy boat travel.
After dinner last night we shopped for warm clothing - hat and gloves and jacket. The weather forecasters reported that overnight the weather would break in our favor. So we purchased our whale watching tickets and slept.
I addressed DH at breakfast, "I approach this adventure with trepidation." He smiled, chuckled, and changed the subject as we finished our coffee.
Then we dressed in our warm clothing, picked up YC, and headed south to Long Beach to the dock near the Aquarium of the Pacific. http://www.aquariumofpacific.org/ .
We arrived on time, lined up and waited to board our boat. Unfortunately, we were not close enough to the front of the line to get 3 seats on the upper deck. We only managed one. But DH said that we would do best to be on the upper deck. So one member of our party would sit while the others stood at the railing.
When I went to the railing soon after we got underway, I slipped my camera strap through the right thumb hole of the middle layer of clothing, knotting it to the opening (didn't want to go through what was to come and have no photos to prove it). Then I gripped the railing for dear life and did not move from the spot until we turned for the harbor.
DH made suggestions to assist me in finding my "sea legs." but I could only watch the ocean and responded accordingly. Inside the harbor, within the protection of the longest breakwater in the U.S., the ride was relatively smooth. Of course we were moving slowly as we passed sailboats and tugboats. I thought to myself, "This is nothing. I worried for naught."
We saw a freighter and an oil tanker anchored outside the harbor and a tall ship moving slowly just off our starboard.
The captain reported a swell outside the breakwater. In case you are not aware a "swell" in ocean terms is not SWELL. It means that the second you pass the man made harbor protection you are on a roller coaster ( I like the comparison to a bucking bronco too so I add it here in case that description clarifies the experience better for you).
YC kept suggesting I sit down. I knew that would be a mistake (I would have to somehow traverse the 3 feet from railing to seat without falling down or worse). I clutched the railing bare-handed for a better grip. My feet tried to force themselves through the soles of my shoes to grip the deck. I bent my knees according to DH's suggestion and tried to move with the rocking of the boat and the rolling of the sea.
We slammed hull to water** as we breached each swell, children shrieking and then giggling. The captain was in a hurry.
We headed out to the spot where an earlier tour had seen whales. They had seen lots of whales - Fin whales*** (although we prefer to call them Finn whales). And the crew expected to seem them still feeding in the area.
We watched and waited. We listened to the lovely naturalist/conservationist/scientist/marine biologist (sorry, I was trying not to fall overboard as we crashed over the "swells" so I don't remember his credentials) talk about this and that, and tell us what kind of creatures we might see.
And then we heard the cry, "There she blows!"
Plumes of salt spray rose in the air - unmistakable.
The whales were here.
While the Fin whale is generally solitary, or at least rarely seen with more than one or two companions, we were seeing blows, all around us. And they estimated at least 9 Fin whales were in the immediate area.
The captain**** navigated the boat closer to one small group of whales and we would spy another off in the distance. I surprised myself spotting two off to the right as everyone was watching those in front of the boat, but then I grew up watching - competing with my siblings to be the first to spy some animal or other on family hunting/camping trips.
We finally were within 50 feet of a couple of them - they would blow, and blow, and then almost fully surface preparing for a deep dive (unlike other whales, the Fin whale does not usually show its fluke as it dives). And the watchers on the boat would exclaim and sigh and strain for another view.
It was wonderful. It was worth braving the pitching of the ocean (and continued wobbly legs this evening) to see these awesome creatures.
We also saw pelicans and seagulls and birds I will try to identify from blurry images I may have captured in spite of the movement of the boat. YC was the first to spot a sea otter who floated on his back next to the boat. At different points in the trip we were approached by three different seals. They seem to glide through the water with joyful abandon.
The trip back to harbor was deceptive. We were no longer fighting the swells, but traveling with them. We would see a rise in the water overtake us and move beyond the boat creating the illusion that we were floating in place. Only the approach of the cliffs, and lighthouses, and ships anchored off-shore indicated that we were making any headway.
As we left the boat we tried to signal to the people waiting to board next. We gave them thumbs-up and nodded our heads. Yes, yes, the whales are out there. The whales are waiting for you.
NOTES:
*Youngest child suggested I call her dearest youngest child, however that would be silly as (dear as she is) she is our ONLY youngest child (a same-aged sibling being 8 minutes older) and it would give her the acronym DYC which is simply not appropriate.
**Thank heavens for dimenhydrinate http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dimenhydrinate! I took a dose as directed while others merely wish they had.
*** See http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fin_whale
Also see http://www.mobydickthewhale.com/cetology/fin-back-whale.htm wherein Herman Melville writes of this species "The Fin-Back is not gregarious. He seems a whale-hater, as some men are man-haters. Very shy; always going solitary; unexpectedly rising to the surface in the remotest and most sullen waters; his straight and single lofty jet rising like a tall misanthropic spear upon a barren plain; gifted with such wondrous power and velocity in swimming, as to defy all present pursuit from man; this leviathan seems the banished and unconquerable Cain of his race, bearing for his mark that style upon his back." Book 1 Chapter 3, Moby Dick
****The captain (Captain Carl Mayhugh) maintains a blog where he posts sighting information and photos. Our trip was Feb. 9, 2013. He took some lovely photos of the whales. http://blog.coastal-explorer.com/2013/02/09/fin-whales-and-dolphins.aspx
[A trip to the aquarium followed the whale watching - where we fed the lorikeets (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lories_and_lorikeets), petted the sharks and rays, and stood mesmerized by the jelly fish - God's lava lamps (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lava_lamp).]
Photos will follow. I must edit as some are of the deck, some are at odd angles, some...
Sunday, February 3, 2013
Scents if not sense
My face is still thawing from this morning's walk, but MY FEET FEEL GOOD!
I made the mistake Friday of wearing bad socks. They were good enough for wearing to work, but not on a three hour adventure with the pack. I have suffered a bit since and promised myself that I would find the good socks (You know the kind - cushioned. And, I will admit it, marked "L" and "R" for those of us who need such directions.) and wear them.
Paddy, Scruffy and I dragged DH out into the breath-fogging cold in time for a lovely sunrise, morning bird songs, barking dogs, a lonely train whistling by, and the noise of deer in the woods.
The pups did not seem too sorry to be on-leash walking to the neighborhood park, toward the warm orange glow of the rising sun instead of crashing through the wilderness with their friends. They were glad to be out and smelling those wonderful smells and checking the new closer to home.
Scruffy wore the walking lights. He seems proud to carry the lighted collar and glowing ball, a gift from our dog walking friend.
I made the mistake Friday of wearing bad socks. They were good enough for wearing to work, but not on a three hour adventure with the pack. I have suffered a bit since and promised myself that I would find the good socks (You know the kind - cushioned. And, I will admit it, marked "L" and "R" for those of us who need such directions.) and wear them.
Paddy, Scruffy and I dragged DH out into the breath-fogging cold in time for a lovely sunrise, morning bird songs, barking dogs, a lonely train whistling by, and the noise of deer in the woods.
The pups did not seem too sorry to be on-leash walking to the neighborhood park, toward the warm orange glow of the rising sun instead of crashing through the wilderness with their friends. They were glad to be out and smelling those wonderful smells and checking the new closer to home.
Scruffy wore the walking lights. He seems proud to carry the lighted collar and glowing ball, a gift from our dog walking friend.
 |
| Scruff glowed |
 |
| Refusing to pose - the day was too exciting. |
The moon was a sliver and I obsessed over catching it, but my photos are never quite right. I kept trying and almost got it.
A few houses have changed occupants. One neighbor is adding on to their house, a property that appears to be nearly as ancient as ours. The slab has been poured and we will keep an eye on the progress of construction.
The sunrise bathed the park with a warm pink glow.
We walked alone in the park, down the road to the far meadow. The seasonal warmth has fooled few plants in the woods. The grass is still crispy and dry and pecan husks cling to the branches splayed open like black stars against the morning sky. The pecan is a wise old tree. It is the true harbinger of spring. Once the pecan buds you can be sure that all threat of frost is over. We are far from seeing green tips on these pecans.
But the loyal verbena still bloomed along the road in the park. It always seems to be the one wildflower that blooms from early spring through the hottest parts of the summer and into early fall. This plant has managed to continue into this weird winter. It has always been one of my favorite wildflowers and so this bloomer seemed a gift.
Blackbirds perched on a streetlight. Doves and "chi chi birds" ate cracked pecans along the sidewalk. One morning bird sang its 'squeaky-hinge" song. The neighborhood, so tame compared to the wild springs of recent walks, was still welcoming and lovely.
Ah, time to get on with the rest of this day begun with a blooming sky and wild verbena.
 |
| There's my boy showing off his collar and light. |
The moon was a sliver and I obsessed over catching it, but my photos are never quite right. I kept trying and almost got it.
A few houses have changed occupants. One neighbor is adding on to their house, a property that appears to be nearly as ancient as ours. The slab has been poured and we will keep an eye on the progress of construction.
The sunrise bathed the park with a warm pink glow.
We walked alone in the park, down the road to the far meadow. The seasonal warmth has fooled few plants in the woods. The grass is still crispy and dry and pecan husks cling to the branches splayed open like black stars against the morning sky. The pecan is a wise old tree. It is the true harbinger of spring. Once the pecan buds you can be sure that all threat of frost is over. We are far from seeing green tips on these pecans.
But the loyal verbena still bloomed along the road in the park. It always seems to be the one wildflower that blooms from early spring through the hottest parts of the summer and into early fall. This plant has managed to continue into this weird winter. It has always been one of my favorite wildflowers and so this bloomer seemed a gift.
Blackbirds perched on a streetlight. Doves and "chi chi birds" ate cracked pecans along the sidewalk. One morning bird sang its 'squeaky-hinge" song. The neighborhood, so tame compared to the wild springs of recent walks, was still welcoming and lovely.
Ah, time to get on with the rest of this day begun with a blooming sky and wild verbena.
 |
| We walked east into the orange glow of sunrise. |
 |
| Almost to the park. |
 |
| Our park |
 |
| DH and pups. |
 |
| Nothing was moving in the park. |
 |
| Bridge against the sunrise |
 |
| Pecan husks, black stars against the sky. |
 |
| Brambles of the bordering woods provide cover for the deer. |
 |
| Sunrise. |
Friday, February 1, 2013
Why isn't being right enough?
It was a long week. It would be impossible to explain other than to say that I had a great need to burn off excess adrenalin, relieve frustration and forget the problems of this week.
It sounded like a job for the pack. And so it was.
We met up with Hugo, Ruby, Stanley and TDW on the river's edge and headed into the wild. We were passed by a couple of cyclists who were clearly not dog fans. They warned us that the (totally nonexistent) ranger "might just" give us a ticket for dogs off-leash.
We thanked them for their concern and wandered down deer trails, though the meadow, up and down hills, under bridges, along the river, through the creeks, up embankments, along limestone ledges and over fallen trees (unleashed and unafraid).
It was three hours of unbounded joy for the dogs and a successful exhaustion of the walker. There is nothing as entertaining as watching the pups follow a deer trail, flush the deer and give chase. Nothing is as soothing as the gurgle of a spring-fed stream. Nothing is as exhausting as three hours in the wilderness with the pack.
Sleep will come easy tonight.
Photos (Sorry, but the battery was low. I only took a few. TDW added one.):
Trash: We managed to pick up a couple of bags of trash. Dues paid.
It sounded like a job for the pack. And so it was.
We met up with Hugo, Ruby, Stanley and TDW on the river's edge and headed into the wild. We were passed by a couple of cyclists who were clearly not dog fans. They warned us that the (totally nonexistent) ranger "might just" give us a ticket for dogs off-leash.
We thanked them for their concern and wandered down deer trails, though the meadow, up and down hills, under bridges, along the river, through the creeks, up embankments, along limestone ledges and over fallen trees (unleashed and unafraid).
It was three hours of unbounded joy for the dogs and a successful exhaustion of the walker. There is nothing as entertaining as watching the pups follow a deer trail, flush the deer and give chase. Nothing is as soothing as the gurgle of a spring-fed stream. Nothing is as exhausting as three hours in the wilderness with the pack.
Sleep will come easy tonight.
Photos (Sorry, but the battery was low. I only took a few. TDW added one.):
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| Stanley, the noble |
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| Hugo, the goofy |
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| Boulder riddled with holes. Grass is sprouting out of many of the holes. |
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| Ruby, TDW and Stanley on the bridge. |
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| Another view of the bridge. |
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| Looking off the bridge into the creek below. |
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| Scruffy and Paddy on the bridge. |
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| I love this bridge - wood planks and rusty iron beams. |
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| Scruffy posing for TDW. |
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| Trunk peeling off in small squares. |
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| Closeup of the tree - like post-it notes. |
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| Another small spring with pool below. |
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| Another burr oak cap in the middle of this photo of dried leaves. |
Trash: We managed to pick up a couple of bags of trash. Dues paid.
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