Walk With Me Wednesday
With due credit to Smatterings here's a post of my Wednesday walk.
I've mentioned before that I walk in our township park. In the summer I have to get up very early in order to have it mostly to myself. But this time of year I, and a few others like me, get to reclaim it for ourselves. In the same way, the wild nooks and crannies expand to reclaim the park once the sprayscape shuts down; the baseball diamonds lie fallow; and it's too cold, wet, and nasty for the playscape.
Here's the fishpond. The ducks and a family of muskrats have been busy in the pond on most of my walks, but they're keeping to themselves today. The weather is about to change, which probably explains their quiet.
A close up of spent featherbells:
The sledding hill is ready for the first accumulation of snow (which might be Friday!):
Reminds me of that song: "Signs, signs, everywhere signs....".
I ask you, what is sledding if not horseplay?!
Growing up in the Chestnut Ridge area of Pennsylvania, every alleyway around the perimeter of town became a sledding hill. And there were no rules, much to the chagrin of Mrs. Schaeffer whose house used to sit at base of the best sledding hill in West Derry. There wasn't a kid in that town who hadn't banged their sled into the stone foundation of that home....right next to her wooden back steps.
Here in SE Michigan, people drive (!?!) up to 15 miles to find a sledding hill. Only to arrive and find rules! And boundaries:
And while looking forward to the arrival of that first blanket of snow, we are reminded of picnics past:
Thanks for walking with me.