Friday, April 6, 2012


I took the drive and steps to renewal this morning. I forgot how far it is to the Nature Center at Pymatuning. The sun shone bright the whole frosty morning. I cringed when someone caught up to me, I was not in a driving hurry. The Nature Center faces the east and the sun risen for about an hour, still blinding, skims across the water.
Birders set up with wide lenses, wrapped in heavy winter coats. They spied the martins. Harrison low growled at the birders or any number of smells in the semi wild. I hushed him, hurrying around the curve to the eagle viewing shelter. I sat, warmed by the sun. Harrison sniffed around, content to stop. No eagles flying.
We continued on the short nature path along the water's edge. Ducks flew out of the tall trees. I stared, never knowing ducks did that. Light rippled on the water. As we neared the end, the highway sounds intruded. A hollow staccato of a woodpecker, followed by a light, tripping of another met my ear. We climbed the hill back to the hub of the center to a symphony of morning bird song warming up while birds flew a beautiful ballet. Cawing of crows added to the music. Crowing of a distant rooster faintly accented the ballad. In the dance, sunlight reflected off white under bellies.
The birders moved behind the building. I sat in the Adirondack chair in front of the museum that is closed. "Who-who-who" of the morning dove began. A bird of prey flew over the building with the deep blue sky as background. I missed most of it as I tried to capture a photo.
 A little after nine and I think this is the time the eagles dive for their breakfast. We proceeded back to the eagle viewing area. I sat soaking in the sun. Harrison is a little more antsy this time. Finally, he climbed up on the bench, licking my neck, as if to ask, "Why are we just sitting here?" I left looking backwards at the eagle catching the currents, drifting upward and upward.
A full bladder and no open bathrooms cut short my trip. Breakfast also seems appealing. We tooled around the shore lines in the car. I dream of camping in one of the cabins sometime. White caps on the steely blue water remind how cold it still is. I found an orchard, putting it in my memory to return with the family some day. I love the neat rows of the fruit trees.
The tall pines in straight rows remain on the Ohio side. They did not seem to have grown much since my childhood. Harrison, not relaxing, sat with hooded eyes, mouth open, tongue hanging. But he didn't whine.
I am renewed. A quiet weekend of catching up with sunlight from dawn to dusk.
Post a Comment