It was 61 degrees F this morning at 5:25, the sky mostly clear after last night’s thunderstorm and generous rain.
Noticed for the first time in all the years I’ve been riding along Race Street what kind of trees there were and where: the wall of spruces, two groups of pines, a grove of maples, the tree that the path curves around is an elm of some kind, a group of crabs, an then the oaks, ginkgoes, and lindens. They formed an ordered collection.
Fast-forward to Meadowbrook Park: saw a very distant deer mid-prairie.
Saw a dark shape thought might be a mink (well I have seen them here), but after a bit recognized it clearly as a male pheasant.
Felt a sharp pang of sadness, or something like it, at the turn north on the path because there were no spiderwort blooming yet, only green leaves and exotic wild parsnip and honeysuckle. Made me think of other things I missed….
But moved on through the trees along the “short loop” and the Peg Richardson Hickman Wildflower Walk.
Somehow spotted a Jack-in-the-pulpit among the various other varieties of green leaves near the pavilion at the Race Street parking lot.
Homeward, noticed no one had moved the dead possum out of the bike path between George Huff and Holmes, it turns out. It was decomposing much faster than the one on High Cross Road that I’ve been observing for a couple of years. Might be because it never had the hot sun on it to dry it out. It’s interesting to observe how the process varies and what might affect it. Hoped this observing of decomposition might help me to look with more courage and equanimity at the continuity between life and death….