The bullfrogs reverberated across the pond this morning.
If Storm or I stepped too close to water’s edge, tell-tale splashes extended in a sequential row from the nearest out along the shore. It was something like my second boy playing a sequence on the bells.
This was the week when I am glad to be an outdoors guy.
The world opened up and expanded.
This week usually comes in late May or early June, but it’s finally here.
On Wednesday morning, roughly two weeks late, I found and ate my first mulberries. They were hard to find and tiny as rabbit turds. By this morning, the full ripening was on and I found plumper ones to snitch.
A Kankakee River fishermen also found his first mulberries this week and blessed his kids with them.
If you live north toward the Wisconsin line, the berries will ripen in the coming week or so.
My kids picked the first domestic raspberries from my couple plants Saturday morning. The wild ones I know of are still a few days away from ripening south of the city.
The families of Canada geese are a wild range from some young being nearly half the size of adults while others are as small as my fist.
I even saw a set of deer tracks in the mud around the town pond this morning on my morning ramble with Storm.
On Wednesday evening, it was stunning to watch the full moon come up red. And seeing it, I thought: smallmouth will come up hard again on Lake Michigan.
Bluegills flitted in and out around the shoreline mats the past week.
There was enough rain to pull crawlers to the top. The 3-year-old proudly captured one and brought it in and packed dirt in a plastic cup for it.
It was a week.