Mulling things on my morning ramble
with Storm, the family's mixed Lab.
A call, bordering on a screech, came from the fields to the east of the town pond this morning.
It was remarkably startling, startling enough to catch the meathead's attention. He stared in that direction in that dumb way of his.
The sound was similar to a whip-poor-will, but then I listened better and think it was the screech of a hunting hawk. Or maybe a falcon? What kind I don't know.
Maybe someone can help me out.
Mind too distracted this morning with thinking on the IHSA bass fishing and my upcoming trip to see duck clubs along the flooded Illinois River.
I barely noticed all the robins in the ever-greening lawns and fields; or the cooing of mourning doves. Canada geese honked on the lake to the west. Red-winged blackbirds trilled thickly along the north old clay pit.
A great egret was on the far north end of the north pit. Something dived in the north pit. I think either a muskrat or grebe. Two Canada geese floated on the south pit.
Other than the screech, just too distracted this morning for much mulling.
Three gray squirrels scattered between the bird feeder, elms and maples of the neighbors as we neared home.