It has seemed like weeks of continuous rain, or if not rain, then cloudy and damp days, so when Saturday dawned with sunlight I stared disbelieving as I opened the blinds. But the weather still had the last word, storms with more rain were due in the afternoon. So I drove locally to a little retreat I've discovered and the name of which I shan't disclose since the last thing we need here is hordes of Meetup groups stomping and shouting their way through the current calm stillness which I love, as do I'm sure, all the native wildlife. And sure enough, when I pulled into the small parking lot, Stanley was the only vehicle present. I picked up my small camera and backpack which was holding my nature journal and paints, then set off on a slow saunter. It was very humid, fine, speed was not going to be an option.
It felt glorious to feel the sun on my face. Having had so much rainy and grey dampness, the sun felt delicious on my skin and I wasn't letting the humidity bother me. Even the fact that mosquitoes buzzed annoyingly close didn't penetrate my little aura of bliss as I walked along the grassy paths through the reserve. Despite the sounds of Rte 66 in the distance, the wildlife was doing its best to block it out. Birds chirped and tweeted as they fluttered happily overhead and the
red wing blackbirds trilled from the rushes and small trees in the swampy pond area. Mallards quacked and honked, while the bullfrogs boomed and croaked and creaked from their hiding holes. I never saw one despite it sounding as though there were hundreds.
I recalled a quote that Lara had told us last week from John R. Stilgoe, "Go outside and walk a bit, long enough to take in and record new surroundings. Enjoy the best-kept secret around - the ordinary, everyday landscape that touches any explorer with magic." I couldn't have said it any better myself, it's exactly how I feel when out on my little wanderings.
It was wonderful to have the place to myself, sharing it with the natural residents. I walked slowly near any I came close to, not wanting to cause any disruption or upset to their very evidently happy day. There was only one thing which marred my enjoyment. Across the pond I could see a house and barn from which odious wafts kept bulldozing my nostrils, I deduced the place must be abandoned. Usually a smell that doesn't bother me, but it did today. Tremendously. Rotting old paper with damp mustiness, a smell that usually entices me towards an old structure instead repelled me today. I tried to ignore it but the pong was very invasive. As soon as I thought I had passed it, I'd suddenly be attacked by another repugnant assault. But eventually I did mange to leave the stench behind me and once again I was gratefully breathing in the perfume of sweet grasses and flowers. Blackberry brambles were clothed in clouds of white petals, large daisies and irises bloomed abundantly in clumps throughout the emerald green grasses and reeds. My first monarch butterfly of the year flitted in front of me and I was pleased to see the milkweed growing vigorously among the grasses.
The grassy paths were springy with damp earth under my feet. sunlight glinted off the water on each side of me and then I spotted a little silver chap sunning himself on the branch of a young sapling. A dear little grey tree frog was laying on the bark, eyes half closed, and looking blissfully happy. I didn't upset his tranquility and took my photo by zooming in. I walked slowly and quietly by, thankful again that there were no crowds of people walking through. The whole time I was here I passed only one guy jogging, evidently a local since he had no car in the parking lot.
Along the top of the field most of the trail was in the shade. Hundreds of tiny earth piles were dotted along the path, the castings of earthworms, and then further along was a box turtle cooling his posterior in a puddle. At first I was alarmed, thinking he'd had an accident and was in distress but when I picked him up he was so relaxed that he showed no fear and didn't even retract his head inside his shell. I apologized to him and set him back down in his puddle, making every effort to install him in the exact position from which I'd rudely extracted him. He was obviously fine about that, his arms and legs still sticking out from his shell once I'd replaced him and he didn't even readjust his behind, likely loving that he was back in the cool mud again. I said goodbye and pottered on.
I left the pond meadow and crossing the road entered cool shady woods, the temperature feeling at least 15 degrees lower than out in the sun. My eyes adjusted as my nose took in the lovely aroma of honeysuckle. The fragrant perfume was so intoxicating that I had to just stand and sniff for a while, no air fresheners can come close to this natural sweetness.
Lush green grassy paths, thick with clover wound in and out of the copses. This place reminds me a little of The Secret Garden. There's no brick wall surrounding it, but these paths are everywhere, bending around corners then disappearing under trees, you never know where you're being led and the mystery is delightful. Again I had this part of the reserve to myself, only passing one couple with their tiny daughter walking the trails. Brambles stretched across, spilling white petals down to the ground, tall daisies reached up to the sun and bees buzzed. So did the mosquitoes, but I ignored those.
I walked around and about, in between and through, the paths feeling like luxurious deep piled carpet with their damp denseness. I really wanted to stop and work on my journal but there were no rocks to st on; I won't perch on fallen logs, having got my one and only experience of chiggers from doing that. If I stood, both of my hands would be holding my paints and journal, the mosquitoes got too close for comfort. So I settled with taking photos that I would paint from later.
Eventually curiosity got the better of me and I walked back towards the car. That house across the pond had been funky and whiffy, but I had to find out what was inside if it was indeed abandoned.
I drove down a gravel road and found the house. It wasn't exciting. It had once been an architectural business and unfortunately for the clients, the maps of their premises were strewn across broken tables and the floor. I only spent a couple of minutes inside. But the screened porch had once been gorgeous. Old chairs were positioned so the pond and reserve could be observed. with no immediate neighbors this must have once been a lovely spot to sit in the afternoon shade. I hope the house will be rescued or another built in its place that will again take advantage of the view. I left, noting some pretty irises that might warrant a return visit for the tubers if the place remains abandoned, and then headed back home to finish some of my journal.
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