I’ve been MIA for the past couple of weeks. I wish I had a good story to tell – or even a bad story – but I have nothing to account for my absence, except simple inertia.
Today I was determined to snap myself out of this neutral mode, so I dragged myself out on my bike to explore a nearby urban trail that – horrors! – I had never been on before now.
In hindsight, I wonder what took me so long.
Green spaces are always balm for my soul. Brimley Woods.
It didn’t take long before details were starting to catch my attention.
Getting down the hill to take this photo was harder than getting back up.
These guys were very entertaining when they realized I was taking photos of them.
I know I’ve said it many times before, but I am constantly amazed at the things I discover that have been under my nose for years. We tend to drive the same roads over and over again in our busy days and often fail to recognize that there’s a nearby treasure.
For me today it was L’Amoreaux Park. I knew it existed – I’ve seen it hundreds of times in passing. What I didn’t know was that it was so large – crisscrossed with paths, a small wooded area, and a wetland active with birds of all sizes.
The workers on the hydro tower can still be seen in the background
Now the wetland in itself might not be overly surprising, but what did cause me to come to a screeching halt was when I spied cormorants on an outcrop on the water.
Until my visit to Florida this past winter, I had never even heard of a cormorant, but I quickly became fascinated with this bird that held its wings out to dry. It never occurred to me that they could be found this far north, however a quick google search confirmed that in fact they’re common.
The sleek cormorants hanging out with the chubby Canadian Geese
This find made up for the excited moment I had a short while earlier when I thought I spied a Great Blue Heron standing regally in the water. I leaped off my bike while it was practically still moving, trying to get my camera out before the heron flew away.
A half dozen photos later while I was praising my good luck, I realized it was only a wooden statue. At least this LOOKED like a heron – unlike the 2 wild turkeys I mistook for deer on the golf course last week.
Then I promptly broke Cardinal Rule #3 of cycling – “keep your mouth closed” – and a bee flew into my mouth. Clearly this bee was equipped with the insect equivalent of my clueless GPS, otherwise it would have taken evasive action.
I spit that little bomber out of my mouth in a nanosecond, and thankfully I didn’t get stung, but my tongue was a little tingly for about an hour afterwards. That would have been all I needed after getting stung by wasp on my foot a few weeks ago.
It’s too early to say whether I’ve actually found sustained inspiration, but hopefully I’ve successfully nudged myself out of the rut I’ve been wallowing in for too long.