A Good Long Walk and more

Morning in the park. I love this old tree.

Zelda and I have been walking at least a mile and a half every day...just trying to keep our girlish figures in spite of the ravages of childbirth.*

I'm combining a few of the walks because nothing much happens each day, but taken all together, they make a nice series of moments.

Visiting with neighbors is unusual. We usually walk too early to see anyone beyond early morning runners or folks picking up their papers. But later walks have provided the opportunity to visit and sometimes a friend will drive past, recognize us, and stop along the curb for a quick chat.

One old friend, who has recently acquired a business down the street, stopped us and commented on the new vests purchased for walking in the dark (AND walking in areas with hunters about). I don't know if we look better or crazier than our usual.** The important thing is that we are seen as we cross the streets.

We also have neighbors who have a yard sale/flea market business. There is a big white truck packed with mystery and treasure parked in their drive. We enjoy a "nodding acquaintance." As Zelda and I walked "off schedule" yesterday we ran into one of the folks as he was walking with a friend towards the front door. He stopped and came over to meet Z. Then he asked about Paddy and Scruffy - sharing tales of our walks with his friend and expressing sympathy over our loss. They were good dogs and we loved them. And, they are missed in the neighborhood.

[We so live in our heads that we forget our experience of the neighborhood is only one - there are the  parallel experiences of our neighbors. And, if we take the time, we may get a little peek into their world. Or not. People "know" us from our daily walks even if we don't really know them.]

One final neighbor moment involved the people who now live in Lavern's house. Lavern worked with DH long ago. After she retired she worked at our polling place during elections and made fig preserves (I seem to know all the fig people). Anyway, Lavern lived in a white wood-frame house with a big porch. One could often find her in the porch swing on cool mornings or catch her going out for the paper in her nightclothes.*** We had watched signs of a change at the house - old furniture on the porch and piles of tree trimmings at the curb and knew that something had happened. We had not seen Lavern in months. Well, her granddaughter now lives in the house with a husband and child. We met them in the front yard late one morning and visited.

Further down the street the mannequin is moving on through the seasons/holidays. The Christmas tree and lights are gone, replaced by a big red heart.

Happy Valentine!

All the recent birding experiences have coalesced into constant distraction. It is almost impossible to walk through the morning bird songs without trying to identify individuals (or wishing we could identify individuals by their song). We've seen two great blue herons (flying overhead), countless vultures (both black and turkey), plenty - if not a murder - of crows, cardinals, cedar waxwings, sparrows and sparrows and sparrows. Did I mention the white-winged doves? They are everywhere! And we've heard the sounds of a woodpecker in the woods.  Binoculars would help with those darned sparrows, but I keep forgetting to bring them along.

And the herd - you've wondered about the herd? One day we walked in the middle of the afternoon - expecting nothing as all the activity seems to slow. Suddenly we heard a great rustling and rush in the woods and watched as the herd crossed the busy street to a field, then across another to a less developed area. I counted about 15 deer.****

Zelda was frantic. I suspect this was her first experience with deer in the flesh. We regularly walk the fields along the woods and she sniffs the deer trails, but we can no longer hike the the back area where the herd tends to shelter. We rarely see them. Perhaps if we try an earlier walk we may see them grazing in the pastures denied us.

What was that up in the tree?

It's a soccer ball wedged in a forked limb.

On a recent hike, she couldn't hold back and went dashing into the grassy meadow between the park and the real woods. I lost sight of her, but heard the rustle as she scampered along. Suddenly she burst through and landed in the short grass of the park and searched for me. I will need to guard against this sort of thing (I believe they are hunting in this posted area), so we will walk further from the temptation. But there is something wonderful about a dog running wild and free.

Zelda wants to go into the woods, but the sign says "No!"

We have had some rain and cold. We found ice on the surface of the drainage.

Air bubbles caught below the icy surface.

NOTES:

*We each have bodies impacted by reproduction.

**I like "crazy." People leave the crazy lady alone.

***There is something freeing about walking around the yard in your nightgown.

**** A few days earlier I had been returning home about 3:30 p.m. arriving alongside the park in time to stop with other vehicles and watch the herd cross the street. The time seemed strange to me, perhaps they were frightened from the woods by a predator. I don't know. But I saw them run.