The Swamp Path
Late on Thursday evening Miss Sadie, the Cowboy and I were having a last walk before bedtime. It was dark, but I had a flashlight and they always carry their noses with them, so that was all right. We were getting to the part of the road that goes past the swamp. I heard something . . . odd. The little hairs on the back of my neck rose, and the dogs froze, staring intently into the blackness. That was enough for me. We turned tail and went right back the way we had come.
But yesterday was a beautiful, sunny day. The snow was crunchy and not too deep. The swamp looked inviting rather than sinister. Into the swamp, then!
The ponds were frozen over. Watch where you step. The path was littered with fallen branches . . . and fallen trees. Look up, too. Watch what you walk under. But it’s all quite beautiful on a crisp sunny morning.
The Bluff
We left the swamp path feeling exhilarated and quite pleased with ourselves for being brave. Sort of brave. On to the bluff! The Bay was still there, ice-free and salt-free.
Ice-free, salt-free Grand Traverse Bay
Two paths diverged in the weeds . . . Miss Sadie was all for going down to the beach . . .
. . . where there were cold waves and the icy remains of drowned willows.
The Cowboy longed to follow the Porky Path, where there might be a porcupine.
OK, maybe not today. We compromised and headed home.
We remembered to stop and smell the roses.
Martha
April 10, 2016
Sitting here hearing thunder. What a relief. We still have a windchill of 30 something, but the sound of thunder is a good thing.
So did you see any foot prints in the morning, other than yours and pups? Do any detective work? See any claw marks on logs? Hair tufts stuck in bark? Maybe best left to the imagination, but if you hear it again, I’d get out the spy kit.
Gerry
April 10, 2016
The only footprints I saw were either small rabbits or large squirrels. I don’t even know what I heard, and Miss Sadie and the Cowboy aren’t talking.
Dawn
April 10, 2016
Lovely walk. Whenever Katie stares intently into the dark I head for home too. No sense being foolhardy.
Gerry
April 10, 2016
My very thought. Although I can be a hardy fool indeed.
shoreacres
April 11, 2016
I just had the strangest experience. Well, maybe not the strangest, but notable. Looking at the photo of the waves and the frozen willows, I suddenly heard the lapping of lake waves. Lakes have rather a different sound than the Gulf (or any other ocean) and I can’t remember the last time I heard a lake.
Actually, the last time I remember was at Leech Lake, in Minnesota, and I was still in grade school. Hmmmm….
It’s fun to see a “snowy swamp,” too. If that’s not an oxymoron, I don’t know what it — at least, in my world. Clearly, my world needs to expand. For example, you used the phrase “salt free.” Do you have salty water up there?
Gerry
April 11, 2016
Working backward . . . no salt water here. The closest we get is the St. Lawrence River estuary. The salt-free phrase is a little jest by the denizens of the Inland Seas that are the Great Lakes. Saltwater sailors often have their little jests at our expense, too.
My swamp is definitely not of the Gulf coast variety. Alligator-free, for one thing. But there are a lot of swamplands up here, too, duly marked as such on the 1840 surveys, and duly cursed as such before that by mosquito-bitten voyageurs and Jesuits. A lot have been drained or filled, a lot are drying up, a lot come and go at the whim of Mama Nature. Landscape is a variable thing Around Here.
I’m glad the waves brought you the vivid memory of a lapping lake! Grand Traverse Bay can sound exactly like an inland lake. It can produce a fairly impressive whoosh-whoosh, too, and if the wind whips around and howls straight down from the north . . .
P.j. grath
April 11, 2016
As soon as I saw your headline for today, I smiled and began to hum. Lovely walk in the sun! Must send link to my sister so she doesn’t miss this….
Gerry
April 11, 2016
Thank you, PJ – It was a lovely walk. I hope we get another one any day now. I just refilled the propane tank, and that usually means I won’t need it so much . . .
WOL
April 11, 2016
Going off on tangents, places to go. I should go walking down by the little pond near me. Nothing like Grand Traverse Bay. More like little park puddle.
Gerry
April 11, 2016
Little park puddles are very nice. They offer opportunities for frogs, fishes, and visiting birds. And they never rise up in a roaring storm out of the north and chew off whole walls of bluff. Enjoy a meandering diversion to the little park puddle.