Mulling things on my morning ramble with Storm, the family's mixed Lab.
A common merganser pair flushed from the north old clay pit as Storm and I neared the bridge over the neckdown between the two pits.
That's the first time I was able to positively ID common mergansers on the town pond, though I have seen ducks in the distance I thought were mergansers.
Such are the mysteries of spring.
Why would mergansers end up on the town pond? We not really on a flyway, not even the small artificial one along I-57. We are too many miles off I-57 to really be part of that.
A morning I had intended to mull life and death, but spring signs intruded.
Yesterday, I got word on Capt. Bob White dying unexpectedly and had to do his obit. Writing obits is the hardest part of my job.
We set out to the cooing of mourning doves on all sides. By far, too many doves for me to try to count.
Robins were not as noisy this morning, but they were hopping around yards just about everywhere.
Cardinals staked out territory from the tops of trees and even wires.
Trilling of red-winged blackbirds came from all around the town pond. In the distance and on the north pit, Canada geese honked and basically fussed.
The pair of geese soon to be nesting on the island on the south pit were just swimming around the island. It will soon be three weeks later than usual for nesting.
The north winds yesterday pushed the ice shanty left by ice fishermen, all the way to the south end of the south pit. I wonder if they will try to rescue it or leave it to sink for cover.
Back home, a gray squirrel bolted from under our bird feeder.