Here is the record of one Sunday morning. It's what happened today after breakfast with Roy at Mel's Commonwealth Café and before church in Weston. We had taken separate cars to facilitate separate church-going, so I found myself alone, sunroof and windows wide open, serenely gliding up Rice Road in the RAV4. Suddenly, Hamlen Farm Nature Reserve appeared on my left. Brake, turn, park in the empty lot. How had I known to bring my old phone, now my blog camera?
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| 9 a.m. pond view. |
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| Deep reflections at the outlet. |
I was all alone with a gorgeous, early fall morning -- for the first fifteen minutes. Then a woman speed walker appeared, moving counterclockwise along the circular path round one of the ponds. She, notable for her pink shirt, was followed by a small, snow-white poodle trying to keep up. Sorry, no picture of the little guy.
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In the midst of the algae, and apparently
undisturbed by it, a frog. |
After the beauty of the morning and the whiteness of the poodle, the frog in her algae bath was my next miracle. Maybe I should have cropped this picture in close upon the frog, but I couldn't bear to give up any of the lacy foliage.
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| The enchanted path through the woods. |
I was alone again, in a scene both deeply peaceful and vibrantly alive. Many of our summer birds have gone south, but a few chattered to themselves and each other. Chipmunks chirped. The rising sun was gradually coaxing aroma from the pines. I thought the next section of the path might be my last for the morning.
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There's a named bench facing this view
of the pond, but you don't see it because
that's where my little camera is perched,
taking this time lapse picture of me enjoying
the morning. |
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That little camera can't handle the subtleties
of light-through-shade, but I wanted you to
at least get an idea of the pair of white
ducks who were swimming nearby. They
skimmed the surface of the water with
their crayon-orange bills, sucking in the algae. |
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| Here's the pond to the right of the causeway. |
I took a video of the water rippling under the morning breeze; but I don't know how to make my laptop read those video files, so I can't show you. It used to be easy. Story of our lives.
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This little amphibian jumped across the path
right under my feet, then froze in place.
Ah-ha, but I see you, little guy. |
The path along the back side of the pond is narrower, rougher. Despite flat heels, my Sunday-go-to-meetin' shoes slipped and slid as I stepped up my pace. It was just after this that I heard voices of a man and woman, but encountered first their mottled gray Great Dane whose shoulder reached my waist. Too startled to get off a picture, I did touch that big head as he brushed by. In fact, I met four beautiful dogs on this walk, who, even more than their owners, were as varied as the extreme points of the compass.
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Reserve-land trees that fall into the water
are allowed to lie as they fall. This giant
white birch is still emitting new growth. |
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New England's ancient ruins: the remains of the
stone walls constructed by early settlers
from Europe, who struggled mightily to convert
a million square miles of forest into farmland. |
This shot marks the end of my morning walk.
I left, refreshed and ready for everything church had to offer.
