At 5:40 this morning, the temperature about 58 degrees F, the skies mostly cloudy and a moderate wind from the south-southeast, I headed toward Meadowbrook Park, hoping to find shooting stars (flowers, that is).
A swim would have been nice, too, but didn’t want to miss seeing the first showy flowers (if you don’t count the golden Alexanders), the shooting stars.
Stopped on the way to check for mushrooms under the stand of spruce trees,
but there were none.
At Meadowbrook saw the sunrise over the confluence of McCullough and Douglas creeks.
Then a little down the path saw the sunrise through the young walnut leaves
A little way down saw at least two of what I’m pretty sure were eastern kingbirds . But got no photos.
Walked Rhododendron on the unpaved prairie path and saw golden Alexanders and blackberries breaking bud.
And then, in the place I’ve seen them for ten years, at least, there they were in all their glory: shooting stars!
They beg to be photographed!
Walked down the path a little way and looked to the right (north). Almost missed the pink shooting stars; they were rather low to the ground.
Saw one plant and at first and thought that was all there were. But then more seemed to materialize.
Trump or no, a world with shooting stars can’t be all bad.
Retuned to the paved path and stopped to get a view from the prairie overlook.
It’s getting green, but so far no floral display.
But already the tree swallows had returned to the nearby bird house,
a comforting recurrence.
Checked the lead plants near the overlook ,
the buds of their compound leaves were just starting to swell and reveal their structure.
Then rode on through Meadowbrook, east on Windsor and south on Philo. Saw an indigo bunting to the west side of the road, but was not fast enough for a photo.
The ride toward Old Church Road was effort-full: uphill and into the south wind!
But at Old Church turned west,
and the ride got easier.
Stopped at the Barnhart Prairie Restoration
and was glad to see the bike rack, though couldn’t imagine being far enough from you bike there to worry about locking it.
Then a dark shape swooped in front of me:
It was a turkey vulture, riding the wind.
And then headed home.