Friday - 252nd

 I felt like we took a step back and approached everything from a different perspective. This in many ways, including in how we should be thinking about the holidays, about December, and, in the same breath, how we should be approaching the wetland wildlife area of the nearby acres of the Nature Conservancy. I know you want to hear about the first two, but the holidays and December will come soon enough and they will have their moment in the Ocean sun, so for now, I'll just tell you about the Nature Conservancy.

We wanted to do an early walk today. My morning stroll to feed the animals made clear to me that this was going to be one heck of a beautiful day!

 

We do eat breakfast. No picture of Ed and no picture of the flowers on the table but trust me, both flowers and Ed look pretty much as they did yesterday: pink and gettin' kind of old.

We talk about where to walk. Ed is itching to approach the Conservancy Lands (that stretch for many lakeshore, woodsy and sometimes muddy acres just up the road from us) from a new entry. Surely there will be paths if we come at it from the south and east rather than north and west?

I put in a mild protest. The Nature Conservancy, in the best of times, does not groom its trails well. The more popular approach (from the north) rarely has people on it and by early summer, the grasses and brambles and who knows what else begin to encroach on the walking trail. Heading out from a side that is even less used is going to put us in a thicket of prickly growth very quickjly. But, Ed really wants to try it out.

We have to get to know our corner of the world! -- he tells me. Ed often talks like that: as if we had a duty to our own back yard. As if we needed to know well the land, the flora and fauna that surround us. 

Okay, but we don't do this unless there is at least some sign of a beaten down path! He agrees.

 

It's a pretty approach, made all the more beautiful by the soft blue sky. A few high clouds, a gentle, rural landscape -- what's there not to like?

 

(A stunning old barn, don't you think?)

 

In fact, the trail is obvious and easy to follow. At the beginning.

And it's all the more wonderful because it's completely new for us! It does fizzle out a bit eventually, but in early winter (yes, we are in the Upper Midwest, I call late November "winter") it doesn't matter: you can trample down the dry stuff.

Too, we come across another feature of these vast lands -- there are power lines that cut right through them. But look! There's Ed at the foot of one tower and there's a nest on top -- perhaps that of an eagle? 

 

He points me to one of the warning signs posted just above eye level. It's marked by bullet holes.

People like to shoot at signs -- he tells me.

There are some people games that I simply do not understand.

Our evening is... sedentary. The bad thing about wearing a FidBit step tracker is that once you've passed 10,000 (and I did!), you no longer care if you take 2, or 200 or 2000 additional steps that day. So I sit and read dismal news stories and, on a more upbeat note, I order groceries for the next indefinite time period. I don't want to contribute to shopping chaos next week. Stock up now and give these store people a break. 

And cut yourself some slack too. For your moods, for your passivity, for your sedentary morning or afternoon, or even a whole day (just not every day!). Keep your mask handy and hang in there!

With love...