Mulling things on my morning ramble with Storm, our family’s mixed Lab.
It seems a bit presumptuous to call my extended ramble extended when it stretches to only something like two miles.
For the last week, I have been wrapped up in covering the Bank of America Chicago Marathon.
It gave me more than a little perspective on my extended ramble.
You know: two miles vs 26.2.
That’s extended.
I thought we might have a shot at frost this morning, but there was not even patches on the far edges of the extended ramble.
I guess I will picking tomatoes for another week or two.
Canada geese were here. As we came off the extended ramble, first six flew into the north old clay pit, drawing the honking of the geese already tight tight to shore, then another 15 geese landed with a rather loud splash down.
This morning was a little different, six geese were standing on the point on the south pit, where Tom the Fishermen often fishes.
If I had to bet, those geese will meet their maker quicker than the dozens of geese swimming on the north pit, which is much wider open.
With yesterday being Sunday, when kids most road around the town pond, I did not expect to see any hedge apples. But there were six strewn about, so I grabbed one to take home to my wife for its magical powers.
A squirrel had dragged a knobby piece of field corn to the path by the old gravel boat launch.
Back on the edge of town, the dryers at the grain elevator pierced the air.
A block from home, two gray squirrels sprinted across the road with acorns from the bur oaks in their mouths and up a massive elm.
Storm just eyed them.
Fall.
