At 5:45 this morning it was 66 degrees F under thinly cloudy skies.
Absentmindedly took Discovery II (hybrid bike) rather than Rhododendron (road bike) so decided to go for a quick trip rather than a long ride and just check on the “buffalo-wallow” pond at Weaver Park.
Did not really see the sunrise. Funny how riding eastward (on Washington, anyway) is not a good way to see the sunrise. Lots of obstructions.
As I rode toward Weaver Park the clouds thickened and the sky became quite overcast.
Which drew my thoughts in and down, toward people around and close to me and their various struggles. Care as one might, it’s not always easy to respond helpfully. Sometimes trying to comfort another amounts to urging them to “lighten up” so they stop making one so uncomfortable. Then there is the valid but not enjoyable struggle of, say, a teen who needs a target for their understandable anger. Really, is it humanly possible to absorb that gracefully? What to do but put yourself out there and believe that your flawed presence will have some net positive effect? Abyasa, Vairagya.
Got to the end of the Prairie Gymnasium, at the newly renamed Preston Williams elementary school and approached (with the usual required effort) the “buffalo wallow” pond. In the water were lily pads of a species I don’t know (yes, need to look it up) and, on the other side of the pond, blue flag iris,
On the banks were golden Alexanders, but saw no spiderwort, which surprised me.
Saw no ducks, though did hear one. Saw several geese on the dry bank of the pond. Those wild geese that make such good use of human habitat, that take over and drive out other species. Takes one to know one.
There were as well plenty of adaptable red-winged blackbirds about, playing the three introductory notes of the theme of the first Star Trek TV series.
Was very dismayed to see garbage in the water.
Thought with all the emergent plants and irregular shore line, there must be more critters that use this pond than I was seeing in this inspection.
Then did hear, toward the other end of the pond, a bullfrog, then more, then a whole Georgian chorus (minus the high voices) of them. They didn’t sing very long at one time. But the music was stirring .
And before shifting back to rest-of-the-day mode was attracted to some peonies on Washington Street that were past peak bloom but of an unusual color combination.