Mulling things on my morning ramble
with Storm, the family's mixed Lab.
Dragging ass this morning. For two weeks, I have battled a lingering cold and I think there was a relapse after staying up way too late on election night.
Then yesterday I had to track down a story on European red deer and elk for the Sun-Times, so it was late until I finished everything.
That may explain why it was dawn already when the meathead and I set off.
The advantage is being able to hear a blue jay in a house or so away in town. There is no mistaking their squawk.
On the edge of town, I heard one Canada goose on the nearby lake. That was it for geese. That was basically it for wildlife.
For a change, just a gorgeous morning. A perfectly clear sky this morning. We reached the town pond just as the sun, a red ball, came up enough to filter through the box cars of the east rail track and the shoreline trees.
It was striking enough that I pulled out my phone and took a picture.
Nice to savor something simple like that. That is one advantage of the morning rambles, a settling of the spirit.
Again cold enough for another thick frost, thick enough I had to tread carefully on the slick bridge over the neckdown between the two old clay pits.
On the edge of town, the hum of the dryer at the grain elevator was noticeable, as it has been for weeks. That should soon end, harvest is winding down.
In town, a gray squirrel again ran around downtown on the street between Village Hall and the grocery store.
I finally figured out why. I think there are remnants of corn cobs left in the stalks stacked for fall decorations against light posts. Or maybe it is gnawing on pumpkins.