Only about 20 miles east of us the sea changes from the gentler waters of Long Island Sound to the open Atlantic Ocean with its bigger waves.
One last walk on the dunes and beach at Napatree Point…
It was a very hazy day, the smoke particles in the air came all the way from the wildfires in Alberta, Canada. Sometimes the camera captured some blue in the sky and others times the sky came out very gray.
We heard this male yellow warbler sweetly singing before we finally spotted him flitting around the thickets on the dune, in the same area we saw a female back in September. It’s amazing to think that this little songbird spent the winter in Central America and has arrived here to breed.
As we were walking along a robin came wandering down the dune path towards us. He would take a few steps, pause, look around, and then take a few more. We stood still and he kept coming closer, and closer and closer. After he checked us out, he turned around and started retracing his steps in the same manner. Curious little fellow.
When we got back to the parking lot these two herring gulls were having a spirited encounter. The one on the right kept making a long call and the one on the left kept jumping down into the water and bringing up globs of seaweed. The first one ignored the seaweed and kept repeating his long call.
A lot had changed in the seven weeks between our visits to the nature center. The trees had leafed out and we could barely see the little mound where Mama Goose had been sitting on her eggs. But on this day the bullfrogs were still populating the pond. After checking out the pond we headed out to the meadow.
We’re squeezing in as many walks as we can before the weather forces us inside. The meadow was lovely with a few well-mown paths to follow through and around it. It was so refreshingly cool that in the shade I wished I hadn’t left my hoodie in the car, but in the sunshine the warmth felt so good on my bare arms. There were lots of birds flitting about, but not too many stayed still long enough for pictures.
Then we walked back through the woods to the parking lot, and enjoyed the different things the dappled sunlight was highlighting.
But beyond perpetual wonders and mortals asking why casting its light upon us all is the sun’s supreme reply. ~ Gunnar Reiss-Andersen (The Magic of Fjords)
When I read about a new Poetry of the Wild outdoor sculpture installation at the Lyman Allyn Art Museum it seemed like a great opportunity for a “new” place walk. So off we went, four days after Tim’s surgery. It’s hard to believe how much energy he has now!
It was one of those beautiful June days with bright sunshine, blue skies, greenery everywhere, low humidity and perfect temperatures. To get to the sculptures and poetry we walked down a grassy hill, enjoyed the antics of a catbird (they’re everywhere this summer!), crossed a picturesque wooden bridge and found ourselves in a lovely garden.
It’s hard to see in the pictures below but part of the sculpture is branches growing up out of the chairs. It’s difficult to distinguish them from the branches of the tree behind them.
There were three poems on display like the one below but because of the angle of the sunlight the camera couldn’t capture the other two. But this poem touched me, especially at this point in our lives when it would be nice to find it possible to live it all over again.
I ask you to pass through life at my side to be my second self and best earthly companion. ~ Charlotte Brontë (Jane Eyre)
When the hot an hazy days of summer land on us it will be nice to think back on this lovely day shared with my best friend. ❤️
Monday we were planning to check on mama goose but my gut was having a very bad morning. My sweet husband offered to go by himself to see if there were any goslings, and brought back the picture above. No little ones yet and he reported that papa goose was still missing. He went inside the nature center and inquired about the situation. A staffer said they were concerned about the avian influenza but had no answers.
By late afternoon I was feeling a little better and decided to go down to the salt water and air for some healing energy. The first wildflower of the season at the beach, a dandelion, was poking through the stone wall and concrete!
When we got down on the sand a friendly ring-billed gull came over to to see what we were up to. I must have taken 30 pictures of him as he enjoyed our company, and we his. There was not another gull on the beach. I thanked him for the lovely pictures with the sand as a backdrop, rather than the ugly tar of the parking lot. 🙂
I never get tired of communing with my beloved gulls. But with a quick glance out over the breakwater I spotted a common grackle. I don’t think I’ve ever seen one at the beach before.
On the way home I suddenly remembered that the weeping cherries were probably blossoming more fully than when we saw them the week before. So off we went. It was a lovely scene, complete with creeping phlox, a patch of heather, and a robin.
We stopped by the grocery store and picked up some salmon for supper and felt grateful for a pleasant end to the day.
Tuesday morning we decided to check on mama goose again. Good news! Papa goose was back, along with his buddy the mallard!
I just LOVE this picture Tim took of papa goose! I don’t think we’ll have a chance to check again until Friday. Hope we don’t miss the hatchlings…
I took a solo walk yesterday, while Tim rested his ailing ankle. There were so many robins out and about, running across the cemetery lawns. It was a sunny early spring day, a seasonable 43°F (6°C) with a little wind chill, but I didn’t need any thermal layers or heavy mittens. 🙂 Three crows were making a ruckus in the treetops but finally settled their differences and flew off, leaving me to enjoy a robin photo shoot.
The Robin is the One That interrupts the Morn With hurried — few — express Reports When March is scarcely on —
The Robin is the One That overflow the Noon With her cherubic quantity — An April but begun —
The Robin is the One That speechless from her Nest Submit that Home — and Certainty And Sanctity, are best
~ Emily Dickinson (The Poems of Emily Dickinson, #501)
Not the greatest pictures I’ve ever taken, but I was thrilled to see more birds than usual on this winter walk. Interesting that we didn’t encounter another human being on this day. Maybe everyone is shopping for the holidays. Not us! It was a sunny day with light westerly winds, a relatively comfortable 44°F/7°C with a feels-like temperature of 39°F/4°C. Connecticut’s positivity rate yesterday was 8.16%.
The Brain — is wider than the Sky — For — put them side by side — The one the other will contain With ease — and You — beside — ~ Emily Dickinson (The Poems of Emily Dickinson, #598)
Recently my blogging friend Linda, over at Walkin’, Writin’, Wit & Whimsy, has been posting about her visit to the Detroit River International Wildlife Refuge, and this inspired me to finally visit Connecticut’s own national wildlife refuge. I’ve lived in Connecticut most of my life and had never been! We decided to start with the Salt Meadow Unit in Westbrook, closest to home.
Stewart B. McKinney National Wildlife Refuge is comprised of 10 units stretched across 70 miles of Connecticut’s coastline. It was established in 1972 and was originally called Salt Meadow National Wildlife Refuge. The refuge was renamed in 1987 to honor the late U.S. Congressman Stewart B. McKinney, who was instrumental in expanding it. ~ Stewart B. McKinney National Wildlife Refuge website
We were very excited to reach the wildlife viewing platform overlooking the salt marsh. Unfortunately, though, we did not see a single waterbird, even though we waited patiently for a while. Wrong time of year or maybe wrong time of day…
I was surprised to find an andromeda bush (on the right) in the woods. Perhaps it originated in the garden of Esther Lape & Elizabeth Read, who owned the property and donated it to U.S. Fish & Wildlife Service in 1972.
Looking forward to returning some day to take the Marsh (Blue) and Woodcock (Orange) Trails. And maybe to see some birds!
The tempered light of the woods is like a perpetual morning, and is stimulating and heroic. The anciently reported spells of these places creep on us. The stems of pines, hemlocks, and oaks, almost gleam like iron on the excited eye. The incommunicable trees begin to persuade us to live with them, and quit our life of solemn trifles. Here no history, or church, or state, is interpolated on the divine sky and the immortal year. How easily we might walk onward into opening the landscape, absorbed by new pictures, and by thoughts fast succeeding each other, until by degrees the recollection of home was crowded out of the mind, all memory obliterated by the tyranny of the present, and we were led in triumph by nature. ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson (The Essays of Ralph Waldo Emerson)
The Merritt Family Forest is part of a large block of forested open space. The upper portion includes a steep, rocky, wooded upland with a mature hardwood forest. Descendants claim the forest remained uncut since the family acquired the property in 1848. The lower portion includes a meadow, and hosts a Tier 1 vernal pool and two Class A streams – Eccleston Brook and an intermittent tributary. Eccleston Brook flows into Palmer Cove, Fisher’s Island Sound and Long Island Sound. ~ Groton Open Space Association website
I had an especially good time enjoying the paths through the trees on that lovely, warm spring day. And I had an enjoyable afternoon creating this post today, a month later. A pleasant memory to savor. It’s been rough the past few weeks, battling the poison ivy. Tomorrow will be my last dose of prednisone and it will be nice to say goodbye to its side-effects, for me, anxiety and a headache. It’s no fun being up half the night with a panic attack! I’m ready to start living again. 🙂
The lovely flower you sent me is like a little Vase of Spice and fills the Hall with Cinnamon – You must have skillful Hands – to make such sweet Carnations. Perhaps your Doll taught you. I know that Dolls are sometimes wise. Robins are my Dolls. I am glad you love the Blossoms so well. I hope you love the Birds, too. It is economical. It saves going to Heaven. ~ Emily Dickinson (Letter to Eugenia Hall, c. 1885)