Mulling things on my morning ramble with Storm, the family's mixed Lab.
Here's why I call him a meathead. The neighbor has a bird feeder set near her line of bushes. Under the bushes, near the sidewalk, is a set of ceramic rabbits, mother and babies.
We have walked past nearly every morning of Storm's life. And this morning, he decides that the momma is a live rabbit and charges.
That's a meathead.
Another beautiful spring morning trending toward summer. Doves cooed on all sides. Robins by the dozens hopped around yards.
A belted kingfisher squawked on its way from the town pond to the lake to the west.
A pair of sentry Canada geese honked as we came across the side rail toward the town pond. The warnings scurried along the families with goslings.
We did the extended ramble, in part because I was holding out one last hope of finding some more morel mushrooms. Yes, we had no more new morels.
The grass, weeds and remnant alfalfa and red clover have just exploded in the last few days and I realize that I need to start checking both myself and the meathead for ticks. The usual plethora of red-winged blackbirds trilled out the old clay pit.
As we neared the north pit, a downed robin chick hopped around. When Storm went to sniff at it, we found out just how close both robin parents were, within feet of us.
Three sets of goslings were on the north pit. But five sets were on the south pit. By my counting for more than a decade, I believe that is a record. Usually, we have seven families of Canada geese on the town pond each spring.
Now here is an example of how nature covers her ass.
The goslings born several weeks ago have sprouted to nearly a quarter the size of a small adult Canada goose. But one family on the south pit were still tiny, as if they hatched in only the last day or so. Another family on the south pit looked small enough to just have hatched in the last couple days.
The honeysuckle is going fast. It came and went quick.
Back in town, the bank thermometer read 66 degrees. It's warm, but it's not that warm. I think the thermometer was catching the early sun and skewing the reading.
Near home, a black squirrel and two small gray squirrels hopped around a neighbor's elm.