Mulling things on my morning ramble
with Storm, the family's mixed Lab.
A loud kerplunk so startled the meathead and me on the back side of the town pond that he completed a 180-degree turn while leaping in the air.
A hedge apple dhad ropped just seconds after we passed.
Which, of course, made me wonder if there are any instances of people being killed or knocked out by falling hedge apples. The fruit of the Osage orange reach the size of a green softball.
If it has, I would think it would be news enough that Google would be able to find stories about that. I couldn't find any in a quick search.
Maybe other critters, other than the meathead and me, are smart enough to avoid walking under Osage orange in the fall.
Learned responses are valuable in the outdoors.
Though sometimes I think they may be dangerous.
The great blue heron, which has been feeding in the corner of the north old clay pit most mornings in the past week or so, didn't flap off this morning, Apparently, it is getting used to us. It simply took a few steps to the north, like a model on stiletto heels, and continued feeding in the shallows.
For some reason, a flock of robins was around the town pond this morning.
Otherwise, it was a quiet morning for wildlife. No squirrels. No rabbits. No doves. And the only Canada geese were ones I heard far in the distance going out or coming back from a picked cornfield.
At least we avoided being bonked by a falling hedge apple. And live to ramble another day.