Penny, our 4 month old sheltie, has been fully vaccinated for a couple weeks now, so it’s safe to take her beyond our neighborhood. The little girl has no idea how big the world is, but we introduced her to a tiny part of it last weekend.
Where are we, dad? Is this another vet?
On Friday evening my husband and I took her to Katie’s park. She wasn’t sure about the whole adventure thing when she emerged from the car.
I think turtles have been here, mom!
But by the time we got to the pond she was having a good old time. There were so many things to sniff!
This is kinda fun, you guys, being out here in the evening!
We just wandered around the pond, we didn’t do the whole trail. After all, she’s just a little girl, and there will be plenty of time to explore the whole park in the future. This visit was just an introduction.
What’s this down here, dad?
Of course I talked to Katie quite a bit as I took pictures of Penny and her dad. Katie says she is fine sharing her park, especially with her little sister. Of course I wish she could have been there to introduce the park to Penny herself, but I like to think there was a bit of Katie there, showing us all around.
Is there another puppy here, mom?
Then on Sunday I met a friend and her five month old cocker spaniel named Whisky for a longer walk at a park Katie had only visited once.
Ok Whisky, I’ll let you give kisses to my mom. This time. (Picture by Whisky’s mom, Karen)
We walked on a combination of cement paths, wooden boardwalks and dirt paths along a fast moving river.
These leaves smell AMAZING!
Personally I liked the woods the best, and once Penny got over the abundance of leaves on the ground, and realized she couldn’t eat them all, she settled right in trotting along the path.
This place is so cool!
She also got to see lots of other people and dogs enjoying the park. She was interested in all of them. When she sees something new she sits, very alert, and considers what it might mean. She’s a thinker, this one.
What might that be over there?
I think she had a wonderful time. It was her longest walk, and in a new environment, and she was a trooper.
This was the very first log I’ve ever jumped over!
She fell asleep in her crate on the drive home and pretty much napped the evening away. But the next day she was bored at home, now that she knows there are more exciting alternatives out there.
Hey mom! Did you know I can do zoomies in the WOODS?!!
I belong to a Michigan birding Facebook group and there have been images showing up of some loons that are currently hanging out at Kensington Metropark, only 40 minutes away from me.
The blue herons are back and nesting in their rookery, waiting on this year’s crop of little ones.
The weather hasn’t been great. And I’ve been occupied with a certain fuzzy puppy so I hadn’t made it out to the park. But we all know that loons wait for no woman.
“Hey lady! Don’t forget us in your quest to find loons!”
So Monday I headed out much later in the day than I’m usually at the park. Instead of early morning I was heading out there as the day was closing and evening was descending. It felt weird walking onto the boardwalk while most people were heading back to their cars.
“Where have you been? I have to do all the nest building around here!”
On the other hand I didn’t see too many people, and those I did see were mostly photographers there for the soft late day light. Just like me.
“If you’re not going to feed me then you’re not worth my attention.”
I ran into one photographer who was headed back to his car. He was all excited about the loons he had photographed “right near the nesting sandhill cranes.” He wanted to show me his images on the back of his camera, and I have to admit they were beautiful. I was excited for him too. “I can’t wait to get home and see these on a bigger screen,” he said, as he scampered off (there’s really no other word for how he moved but scampered!).
I knew the feeling.
Any loons out there?
But the light was fading and I hadn’t made it out to the bay with the nesting cranes and loons yet. So I left him and walked as quickly as I could until I saw the crane on her nest.
“Midway through my shift and I’m getting hungry, I wonder if I can get something delivered.”
Then I moved slowly, to a better position, and stood for a long time, another photographer nearby, silently shooting images of her as she moved around her nest.
“I need to stretch my feathers a bit.”
And, as she stood up, I gasped quietly in delight. She had an egg!
“That egg was pressing up against my breastbone!”
Then another crane on the other side of the lake began to call. Our nesting mom stretched her neck and called back…
“Hey you! Be quiet, you’re stressing the baby!”
…and then was joined by her spouse who was standing nearby.
“Hey don’t upset the Mrs! It’s quiet hours now!”
It was pretty amazing to be so close.
Then she got back to work cleaning the nest and checking her youngster, still in the shell.
“There, there, little one, mama’s got you all warm and safe.”
In between watching her I tried to see if there were any loons out in the bay. There were a lot of ducks, but they were all far away and the light was fading fast. There were probably a couple loons out there, but I couldn’t be sure. What I was sure of was the spouse of my nesting crane stalking past me headed for quieter dining.
“You can’t get a quiet meal around here.”
Eventually I moved back to the main path where I saw the spouse of the nesting pair strutting his stuff. I guess he had had enough and needed to get away for awhile.
“I hear there’s a new bar and grill down this way,”
I found him shortly after, having a drink at the local pub.
“And another thing, ever since she had that egg she ignores me. It’s always all about the egg!”
He was sharing tales of woe and his fear of becoming a father with the local bartender, this muskrat who was munching on bar snacks.
“I know what you mean man, sometimes it’s just easier to hang out alone.”
In the end I never did see the loons up close, though I walked all the way around the lake.
Toward the end of my walk I was focused on capturing the moon in the branches of a tree, almost back to the car, when suddenly two cranes flew low right over my head and landed on the path directly in front of me.
A nice evening was coming to a close.
That was startling, and I was kind of worried about getting past them in the growing dusk. They seemed intent on me paying some sort of passage ransom.
Notice this one is missing his or her right foot.
So I threw some seed toward them and inched by. As I was doing that I heard rustling in the reeds right behind me. Turns out there was a third crane walking back there, perhaps a distant family member of the two who had just dropped in.
“Just toss us the food, lady, and nobody gets hurt.”
Regardless I bid them all a good evening and scurried back to the car. Night was closing in on the rookery and it was time for me to head home.
Thus ends another beautiful day at the rookery.
I didn’t see the loons, but I had such a wonderful walk and saw plenty of things that made me smile. And now I hope you’re smiling too!
Wednesday afternoon the sun came out and temperatures rose into the 50s F (10s C). The snow began to melt, birds were singing, and spring felt within reach.
“Can we please go outside, mom?”
Little Penny, experiencing her first spring day, was ecstatic. And, because she wanted to be outside exploring her yard, she began to ask to go outside.
Our first picture together.
And just like that a corner has been rounded in our potty training effort.
Wednesday afternoon she began going to the back door and whining softly. Once, when I didn’t move fast enough to suit her, she pawed at the door.
Trying to engage the puppy in the reflection.
I’m pretty ecstatic too.
We’ve gone a whole day without a potty accident in the house. She’s napping at the moment, exhausted by all the tours of the yard, the grasses pulled, the gardens explored.
“Hey mom! This grass smells great!”
I’m grinning as I type, because I can tell she’s going to be an awesome dog.
Oh, I still miss my Katie-girl. I will always miss her, and Bonnie before her, and Daisy before Bonnie. As I walk around the yard, little Penny dancing on the end of her leash I talk to Katie.
She sits when she’s interested in something. We didn’t train her to do this. I spent years trying to get Katie to sit when a car drove by.
“See your little sister, baby-girl? See how she’s running and grinning and having the best time in your yard? Isn’t she cute? She’s got so many adventures in front of her, doesn’t she, sweetie. You keep watch over us, Katie-girl, and thanks for guiding us to this little one. She’s going to be special, just like you.”
“I think this piece of grass needs to be pulled up, mom. Don’t worry, I’ll handle it.“
Yep, this one’s a fire cracker, all bundled up energy, bursting into zoomies at the slightest instigation, never complaining, always happy, and definitely smart.
“Can we please go out again, mom?”
There’s going to be some stories to tell, no doubt about it. I can’t wait to get started. I think she’s pretty amped up too.
A week ago yesterday the sun finally came out. We’d had weeks on end, it seemed, of nothing but cloudy skies, cold wind, and sleeting rain.
A pretty day for a run. Or a walk if you’re not a runner.
It is, after all, Michigan in February.
This week’s artsy-fartsy image.
But when the sun broke through all the grey I couldn’t help but want to get out and see if I could find any color.
There was still ice back in the wetlands.
I went to my local Metropark, Indian Springs, because it’s close to home and the bike trail meanders through wetlands, hills and woods. Perfect for testing my spring thesis.
Red twigged dogwood
What spring thesis you ask? Well…I think about February around here Spring starts flexing her muscles and if you look and listen carefully you’ll know she’s right around the corner, just waiting to burst through the last bits of winter.
Light shone through last year’s beech leaves
My husband saw a red-winged blackbird this week, though we haven’t heard them yet. If they’re here, than it’s officially spring, no matter what the skies drop on us.
Flying free in the sun.
Oh, to be sure, I know this winter has not slunk off into history yet. There will be more snow. More cold. More windy sleet. But on that Saturday, just eight days ago the sky was a brilliant blue, and it was warm enough take pictures without wearing gloves.
You can’t beat sunshine and woods to lift the winter doldrums.
I thought you’d want to know, especially those of you even further north than me, that it won’t be long now. Nope, check your gardens, especially those near your house. You might find some hope poking up, reaching for the sun, ready to put a smile on your face.
Skunk cabbage poking up, a first sign of spring around here.
And if not, go for a walk in woods near you and keep a sharp eye out for hints that we’re almost out of the deep freeze.
I know, I know. Every year, every single year, I go on and on about spring being near, that we’ve almost outrun the cold, and then we get slammed with a blizzard.
Last year’s teasel.
I know I’m being foolish (again) by believing that this year will be different.
These leaf buds are bound to pop soon!
This year we won’t have those last winter storms, when buds are opening and fruit trees are vulnerable. This year we’ll head straight into warm summer afternoons, we’ll bypass the last salt trucks and snow plows.
That blue sky just has to be a hopeful sign!
Yep. This is the year we jump straight into spring. I’m sure of it.
Aren’t you?
Head on out for a walk, you never know what you’ll see!
Sometimes when I go north to camp it’s with the sole purpose of getting night sky images. Those trips I don’t care much about the campground, it’s just a place to nap during the day. Mostly I care if there’s a dark sky park nearby, or at least some open sky with something interesting in the foreground.
Our campsite, tucked up on a knoll, deep in the woods.
Those trips I usually spend the days sitting around at the campground reading and nibbling on snacks that aren’t good for me. When I begin to fall asleep over my book I tuck myself into my sleeping bag and take a nap.
It was spring in the woods, with the pine trees in ‘bloom.’
Sometimes that’s the best part about camping…eating, reading, napping. Repeat. I’m usually impatient for the sun to set, eager to try again for the shot I can see in my head but rarely get captured on my camera.
This trip, planned months ago, just happened to coincide with clear dark skies and no moon. So I got lucky.
I had my stove and my friend brought most of the food.
During last week’s camping adventure I had company, and a more varied agenda. We were camped in a walk-in site, we were the only people camping on our loop which was wonderful and so quiet we could hear owls at night as we sat around the campfire.
Thank goodness we were able to buy dry firewood!
OK, full disclosure. Mostly we sat around the campfire to get warm because it was stinking cold out there! Last year, on our camping trip the exact same week, we were wearing shorts. This year we were wearing long underwear, layers of sweatshirts, jackets and winter coats. I slept, the first night, wearing gloves and a hat, as well as my winter coat while in a sleeping bag and under multiple layers of blankets.
Not your typical sleeping attire.
But the next day, after a night of shivering and then squealing over the Milky Way, the sun came out and we paddled down the Platt River, almost all the way out to Lake Michigan. We got out of the river at the exact location I shot the Milky Way the night before.
Grateful for the sun while we were on the river.
That made me smile.
Lake Michigan is right on the other side of those dunes.
We had the site reserved for three nights, Monday through Wednesday, but though the second night wasn’t quite as cold as the first, I still slept in all my clothes and piled towels on top of the blankets on top of the sleeping bag.
Being cold all the time can wear a camper out.
Looks warm. Wasn’t.
Plus the weather people said it would get warmer but we were going to get rain Wednesday afternoon, and that it would rain all day Thursday, the day we were scheduled to leave.
Time to pack things up.
We decided to pack up on Wednesday morning and hightail it out of there. There’s nothing worse than packing up camp after a night of rain. Wait. In truth it’s worse to pack up camp after a full night of rain, while it continues to rain. Trust me on this.
The sun just tipping the trees above us made me want to stay….for a moment.
So we abandoned ship a day early. I think I did that almost every camping trip I took last summer, and always because of rain. Rain while camping in a small tent is not that fun after the first few hours of listening to it drum on the rainfly. Rain accompanied by wind and thunder can be pretty terrifying.
This could be another good spot to shoot the Milky Way, don’t you think?
Anyway, we chose to bail, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to go back. Camping in the woods without big RVs next to you is a delight.
I stopped at Pt. Betsie on my way home, but the lilacs weren’t open yet. And the storm was coming in.
I just hope next time it’s warm enough that I can sleep without wearing my hat and parka.
On the beach waiting for the sun to set on our last night.
Some of you know that I’ve been taking an online photography course centered on getting images of the Milky Way. There are many many modules, but I’ve been stuck in the first set because I haven’t been able, for months, to get that first single image. And for me it was hard to go on to the next modules that talked about panoramas and stacked and stitched images when I couldn’t get the single image.
A friend and I had a camping trip scheduled for this week. It’s been exactly one year since we camped at this same campground, with it’s walk-in sites far from the world of mega RVs with their generators and large noisy families. Yes, carrying all your stuff down a wooded path to your site is a lot of work. But once again, just like last year, we were the only ones in that section of the campground, and it was heaven.
And, coincidently, this campground is located in a Bortle 2, a part of our state with less light pollution than where I live in a Bortle 4. AND the moon wouldn’t be up to interfere with finding the Milky Way. AND there was one night out of the three we’d be there that the weather folks said would be clear.
Win/win/win
According to my Planit app, the Milky Way would rise high enough to see it over the trees by 2 a.m. But my friend and I went out at midnight, after sitting around the fire all evening waiting for it to get dark, just to check out my chosen site, which was at a park at the mouth of the Platt River, where it empties into Lake Michigan.
An image I took of the Platt River while we were waiting for the Milky Way to show up.
It is a wonderful place to star gaze, but of course the Milky Way wasn’t putting in an appearance early, so we went back to the tent to take a nap.
I set my alarm for 2 a.m.
But when the alarm went off I didn’t want to crawl out of my warm(ish) sleeping bag. The temperature was hovering around 40F (4.44C) and everything in me wanted to stay in the tent and hunker down. But when would I ever again be in a dark location on a night that was clear?
So I crawled out of the tent and looked up. Stars, thousands of stars, were there, just hanging in the pine tree boughs above me. I scrambled down the path to the car and headed out to the river, smiling.
And as I carried my camera, already affixed to the tripod, around a building to the river I squealed. Because there it was….the illusive Milky Way, in all it’s glory.
There she is, as if she were just waiting for me to get my act together.
And suddenly I wasn’t cold anymore. Suddenly I didn’t care that it was 2 a.m. I wasn’t worried about waking up early the next morning after being up all night so we could kayak down the river ending up at this very spot.
No, all I could think about were the stars, all I could see were the stars. And in the quiet pre-dawn hours that morning I shot images and grinned, and then just stood there in awe for a very long time. Alone in the quiet I listened to gentle waves lap the shore and watched the stars move across the sky and there was no place I’d rather be.
You’ll have to image that part on your own.
From the boat launch, looking out over the Platt River and then, past the small dunes, to Lake Michigan.See the big dipper up there?
But if you ever have a moment like that you’ll know….It’s magic.
Change Is Hard 