Mulling things on my morning ramble with Storm, the family's mixed Lab.
The Canada geese families were all over the south old clay pit this morning. It was a chance to check the wide range of goslings.
The big goslings, and I mean half the size of adults, born more than a month ago were all bunched on the west side.
A lone pair that hatched out late goslings a week or so ago were on the east side. When I tried to take their picture, all the other geese and goslings swam over in a mass protective formation.
They were close enough that I could count 20 big goslings and the two little ones. So far there has not been much predation on them.
It was a squirrelly morning. The meathead scattered several gray squirrels as we came off the porch, then charged and chased two up the neighbor's old gnarled elm.
Robins were out more this morning and so were lots of mourning doves, though they were cooing less than usual.
Squirrels were very active, I suspect because of the coming rain.
Growing up in the country, I learned to ``smell'' rain by the time I was teenager. I am sure it was just a combination of learned cloud and wind combinations with the feel of the humidity, but I could ``smell'' rain.
I suspect wild animals can, too. So they were active this morning ahead of the coming rain.
I think my morning rambles with the meathead have revived my ability to smell rain.
It has been too long for an extended ramble. In the couple weeks since we stretched out to the two miles or so of the extended ramble, the red clover and remnant alfalfa mixed with grasses were waist-high in spots.
It was so high walking through them that I checked myself for ticks. And probably should do the same for Storm.
Because of the extended ramble, I heard again the trilling of red-winged blackbirds around the north old clay pit.
Storm found energy from the extended ramble and thought he earned a good swim to satisfy his inner Lab. So just past the bridge over the neckdown between the two pits, he took a long dip. I swear he was smiling.
Honeysuckle is nearly over. And the flowering of raspberries and blackberries is far along too. Soon enough I will be picking goodness on the morning rambles.
Near home, young doves were so innocent (foolhardy?) they allowed the meathead to walk within two feet of them.
Back home, Storm scattered gray squirrels like rice at an old-time wedding from under the bird feeder on our front ;porch and my wife's overflowing climbing rose.