Mulling things on my morning ramble with Storm, our family’s mixed Lab.
OK, it was just skim ice, but it was the first ice of the season.
Mid-20s this morning, but cold enough that I had to do a double take when I saw those crinkles of skim ice on the puddles, leftover from the 0.6 inches of rain yesterday, by the ball field on the edge of town.
That was not the end of the mysteries as I passed the ball field. Before I even crossed the side rail and over to `the town pond I heard a red-winged blackbird trilling.
I could not believe my ears. I had not seen or heard one in I don’t know how long. But there is little mistaking the trilling of red-winged blackbirds and I found it sitting high in a bare tree.
Sometimes, there is no explaining what is going on in the wilds or even the semi-wilds of the town pond.
It was one of those mornings.
Maybe it was the crispness of the morning or the scrubbed feel after the rain yesterday, but it was a morning for stepping lively.
Yes, I can.
And stepping lively brings me to this. Every morning, I ramble off for about two miles. Even when I am traveling, I try to put the two miles in.
So I tend to think I am in good shape in terms of walking.
But nothing like a reality check of hunting cover for upland game, which I did two of the last five days.
The piece of cover above we did in the rain yesterday, which adds the weight of water to the walk.
My upper thighs are dying this week, aches in muscles or tendons I never knew I had.
Maybe I am just getting old.
Again, another mystery, no not getting old. We all get old.
The Canada geese are back. Six swam in the middle of the north old clay pit. Then I saw at least four clusters of several dozen more tight to the shoreline.
A great blue heron coasted off with lazy flaps over the north pit. I heard the squawking of a belted kingfisher on the south pit, then saw it fly over to the north pit.
It was just one of those mornings for no explaining why it switched pits.
Plenty of hedge apples remain down on the east side of the south pit. But boy do they look grotty after the rain and mud.
Again, no explaining that on a crisp morning like this that no squirrels were out anywhere.
Just how it was.
Back in town, the neighbor’s young oak completely dropped its leaves over the last day.
It’s that time when changes come fast.