It was 45 degrees F under cloudy skies with an east-northeast wind this morning at 7:45 as I walked Shadow out of the garage. My goal was to bring a pair of binoculars to the sunken pond, (the purported historical buffalo-wallow) in Weaver Park, and and see whether any ducks were stopping there for spring migration, as they had in previous years.
An obstacle to this goal was the running of the Illinois Marathon, a big community event, the route of which pretty much circled inner Champaign-Urbana and blocked my path to anywhere away from the center of town.
Actually was excited to be close to the festivity of the event and waited for a while at the corner of Green and Cedar to watch crowds of medium-serious runners,
After a little while of watching turned south away from the route and rode along Washington Street until the route joined Washington going east.
Rode on the sidewalk paralleling the runners until the route went south again at Kinch Street.
By this time there were enough gaps between groups of runners that I could slip across the street and proceed to Weaver Park. Here is a view from the other side.
Made it to Weaver Park, with its unimproved “trails,”
but nice row of windbreak (Osage orange?) trees.
Saw that there were, alas, the pervasive Canada geese (though not many) but also some duck-looking fowl. Whipped out the binoculars and was delighted to locate 5 or 6 pairs of blue-winged teal! Even got an iPhone shot where you might be able to detect some non-mallard ducks.
The binoculars also revealed a single striking black and white duck way across the pond that would dive completely under the water and resurface after a little while. Would call it a lesser scaup but was unable to get a photo.
After the stop at Weaver rode on to the east with the thought of crossing High Cross Road,
which is a great place to view the sky,
but my hands were cold (knew then that I should have worn these,
The way back was almost clear of runners; took the liberty of cheering and shouting encouragement to the ones at the very end. And headed home.