Sunrise, a great blue heron with legs stretched behind takes flight, three deer crossing the path pause to watch me as I pass, a chorus of red winged blackbirds, the golden sun on the grasses, the unexpected color of a blooming redbud, a marshy area full of chirping frogs, spotting the first wild phlox in the woods.
These are all the sites and sounds I encountered at the Baker Wetlands on Sunday morning. They were all holy.
A recent walk on a foggy morning. It was magical. A muffled sort of hush all around, even the geese were muted, spider webs dripping.
Sun behind the mist trying to break through. An atmosphere of expectation.
Who says all these shades of gray are not interesting? Not me.
At the end of the walk my hair not covered up by a ball cap was very damp and my eyelashes were wet. My face felt clean and fresh, as if I had just had a spa treatment, for free, in the out of doors. It was completely delightful.
This is the Burcham Park trail in Lawrence, it goes by the church of the glassy river, and winds around behind Lawrence Memorial hospital. Worth a visit if you live in the area.
On my first outing to the levee trail this spring, a dog decided I needed a walking companion. He joined me about 5 minutes in and stuck with me until he found some better 4-legged companions.
The horses came up to the fence when I walked by. Reminding me yet again that a carrot does not take much room in a pocket and why is it that I can't bring them one. This Saturday. For sure.
The fields are mowed and look ready for something. Planting? Re-emergence of something? Laying fallow this year?
This vegetable gardener has begun her work. How orderly and beautiful is her plot.
On Saturday, because of the time change, I will be able to walk out when the sun is just coming up. A good reason to spring forward if ever there was one. The older I get the more sunrises I want to experience. Magical elixirs to be consumed regularly, good for anything (and everything) that ails a body or a spirit.
The best way to describe my recent emergence back into the world of outdoor walking/hiking, is that I feel like someone who has been deprived of a necessary life force, who may not have realized how much they were missing it, until they have access again.
By the river, up on campus, in the neighborhood, every step is full of delights. Which I am gobbling up.
The Kansas City/Lawrence area contingent of the Mulvenon family has formed a walking cooperative. What this means is that on a regular basis each family will select a hike, pre-walk it to be sure it is acceptable, determine a date for the group to go, send a message about it (including detailed instructions for getting to the trailhead), and generally assume responsibility for organizing.
It's a given that lunch will be included, everyone brings their own.
If there are any fairy crossings on the hike, the organizer must point them out and provide a brief history.
For the time being, in large groups, masks will be worn. Tom has agreed to bring hot water in a thermos so everyone can wash their hands before lunch. He came up with this idea on his own and we let him know that next time it doesn't have to be boiling hot. Medium-warm will suffice.
Dan happened to bring a thin, chewy, ginger/molasses cookie to this hike and mentioned that he had a new cookie cookbook with 365 recipes. These cookies were so good, we voted and decided that he was to supply cookies as dessert for all hikes this summer. Even for those hikes where he already has organizer responsibilities.
Since I came up with the idea, and named the group, I am assuming the role of chairperson. Which means I have no power, no further responsibilities, and get more cookies than anyone else. It's a pretty good gig if you can get it.
Even though Spring doesn't start officially for another 2 weeks, I have dived in head first into the season. It is so marvelous to be outside, to feel soft air on skin, air that doesn't make you shiver and race for the nearest refuge.
To walk on a trail where before you know it there will be green leaves and wild roses.
On our walk we were perfectly content with stacks of rocks, blue skies, freshly cut trees whose stumps look like flowers.
We discussed this bridge and how old it was. Coming to no certain conclusions.
90 minutes or so later we were back at the car, by a lake, munching on peanut butter sandwiches, a fuji apple, barbecue potato chips and water. What is it about eating a lunch outside, after a walk, that makes it so tasty? I have no answer for this either, but I intend to take full advantage of THIS spring season by having as many picnics overlooking lakes, woods, fields, and the like as possible.
P.S. if you live in the KC area, this walk was at Shawnee Mission Park. Lots of places to walk there... as long or as short as you like.
The moon was setting when I stepped outside recently for a walk. Do you step out the back door before a walk too? Just to "test the waters" and be certain the get-up you have selected to wear will provide the proper amount of warmth while being mindful that you also don't want to get sweaty. I love a setting moon.
Out the front door there was this. Coming up between the houses across the street and off in the distance. A rosy pink/orange/golden sun just coming over the horizon. Clearly I have done something right lately, for this kind of treatment from nature.
The business end of this plow, that sits in a field by our house, has been repainted over the winter. I think. It was also lovely in it's perfect setting, backlit by the morning light. What would be most excellent would be to come upon the artist doing the painting. I would like to observe from afar. In case I am ever faced with just such a challenge.
Today I noted green stalks pushing up in the front garden. Bulbs! I keep meaning to plant more, for a bigger display, but it never turns into a priority at the right time. No matter, I enjoy the returnees and celebrate them like they were the Crown Jewels on display.
Speaking of Crown Jewels... we just started watching season 1 of Downton Abbey. After hearing it discussed for so long, in so many circles, we have finally found the right time to watch. Smitten from the outset. I am ever so content at the thought of 6 seasons, all wrapped up like gifts, just waiting for me to open.
At 7:29am, under a dense fog advisory, with temperatures holding steady at 38 degrees, and NO wind... outdoor walking season resumed in Lawrence Kansas today.
Birds were singing, no other humans were about, a squirrel ran up a tree and then came back down. It was GLORIOUS. Cobwebs that I did not realize had formed in the recesses of my brain were blown out. I could smell the beginnings of spring.
On Sunday's walk at the Lawrence Nature preserve there was not one other car in the parking lot. Not one other person on the trail. Nary another human voice did I hear. For the duration of my walk. But there were jumping, scampering squirrels,
and trees,
and paths,
and growing things,
and sculptures,
and the fragrance of fall moving into winter.
These paths, covered with leaves and lurking roots and rocks, are my favorite. The slight incline makes my heart beat faster.
Just as I neared the end of my ramble, the sun came out.
The sky turned blue.
The clouds, fluffy and soft, went from gray to white.
And then, if all that wasn't enough, at the very end there was the long shot finale.
Followed by a cup of coffee and the Sunday papers at home. Maybe a piece of pumpkin bread to go with. It doesn't get better.
P.S. Happy Birthday to you Marti Huff. I am glad in the dice roll of life, our paths crossed.
This was my recent "scouting expedition" for a turkey day hike. We haven't hiked at the wetlands before on Thanksgiving. Something new is always fun. The potential for getting lost (highly unlikely) always adds an element of excitement to a hike.
Plus the golds and blues are sure pretty right now. Who among us doesn't need a reminder that the world remains a beautiful place.
Wearing my new gore-tex lined shoes for trail walking, I got adventurous and took a few turns off my "usual" route. My reward was a lovely view of the river and an alternate way to the lotus ponds.
Which are of course looking very different right now. As are the cattails below. I happen to think the dried lotus pods and the burst open fluffy appearance of the cattails are just as interesting in every phase of their life-cycle.
I just read that the shoots and rhizomes of cattails are edible. But I am going to pass on looking for a recipe for them to add to the turkey day feast. Speaking of... who's making what this year? Let me know if your family favorite should bump something off my menu which includes: turkey, cornbread dressing, mashed potatoes/gravy, thanksgiving slaw, some other green vegetable (maybe), cranberries, rolls, and pumpkin pie. Just because there are only 2 of us is no reason to diminish the celebration.
This November we are having some warmer than "normal" days, which I am appreciating. It's great to be able to get outdoors for a bit longer and appreciate the last of the colors of fall.
With most of the leaves gone, I am noticing different things on my walks.
Sometimes I feel like I am walking through a museum. Everywhere I turn I see a masterpiece.
On Friday, when I was driving home from work, feeling sort of overwhelmed by the state of the world, I heard an interview on All Things Considered that gave me hope. It was with Atul Gawande, about a coronavirus vaccine. Though the interviewer asked a few questions that could have been responded to with politics and outrage, he instead focused on the new administration's plan to move forward and do their best. As I listened I had a glimpse of the sanity and optimism I am hoping to see restored in our country soon.
Here is a link to the interview with a transcript if you are interested. It's only about 7 minutes long. Maybe you will find it helpful too.
If you want to join me in the morning we are getting up early. Putting on some boots (so our feet stay dry), and going to see the sun, the moon, and some spiders.
Along the way we will pass by the American Lotus flowers. Which are done blooming but continue to fascinate with their amazing round leaf blades that are big enough to baptize a baby in.
After all that we will walk over by the boardwalk for a glimpse of some long legged birds practicing their maneuvers.
There is usually at least one. Sometimes two.
What I really need are a couple of curious kids who like early morning adventures to go with me. We could look through binoculars, search for nests, catch frogs, release frogs, stop for sips of hot chocolate, sit on logs, tell stories, sing made up songs, and get right down to the business of having fun. If you know any, tell them to put on their backpacks in case we find stuff to bring home, I'll be by at 7am and promise to have them home at noon, ready for a nap.
This week, on a neighborhood walk, I met Maze, Treeburt, and Jeeuaf.
On my way out I it was too early and I didn't see them, but on the way back home I noticed something in a wooded area that normally isn't there, and I went over to examine more carefully.
Yep, three trees, all with names. Labeled for your convenience. I love the inventive mind of the person who wove this project into their school curriculum. Science? Reading? Art? It could cover all three easily.
I hope the kids that did this know how much I appreciated it. On a morning walk, moon overhead, it felt like something straight out of a movie.
Sort of like these pinkish clouds over a yellowing field. Listen, some days it's just magic and you go with it. Gratefully.
Walking in nature in October, and really anytime, is a balm unlike any other. Soothing in a way that makes me feel better not just about myself, but the world in general. If there is a better reason to get outside than that, I can't think what it might me.
Sometimes there are also bonuses, like the two deer with soft brown eyes that passed by me along the trail, or the clouds and the many shades of blue that was the sky on this fine morning.
I want to bottle up these walks, in the event that in years to come I can't take one at will. Instead I will look up to my shelf of carefully labeled bottles and open just the right one, and be transported back to the very day on the label, once again living the experience of moving along the trail, marveling at what I saw.
Wouldn't that be the nicest?
Last weekend, when the rain and I were racing to see if a 5 mile walk could be achieved before I got soaked, there was good stuff to see on the trail. Even though you wouldn't think it would be so on an overcast morning.
First let me mention the young man who was running in water sock/gloves. You know the rubberized kind with spots for each individual toe to fit in? I can only conclude he wanted to feel the earth beneath him more fully. Or maybe he left the house unprepared and pulled them out of the trunk where they had been stored since he did a river hike at the end of August? Sort of a make-do move?
Just past this newly cut corn, beyond the short silos, at the edge of a field I could see the golden lights of some industrial manufacturing plant through a misty haze of steam and clouds. My ears were occupied by the dogs at the farms who have set up some sort of a relay system, warning each other with a series of barks "hey someone's coming - look out for suspicious activity". For the nose - it was the smell of horses and freshly mown grass. All of these things, not what I would usually notice, all most pleasant.
But perhaps the best of all was this clever sign that I had not previously noted. On the door of a business across from where I had parked.
It seems relevant to post this morning after what I hear about the debate last night. I myself could not watch so close to bedtime. That sort of agitation right before slumber seems unhealthy to me. Especially when all the news today is replete with analysis and soundbites.
This morning, at 8am when it was a glorious 59 degrees, with filtered sunlight, Chris and I headed west to the Konza Tall Grass Prairie to walk the Kings Creek Loop trail.
For those of you who only see Kansas from interstate 70, let me tell you it is more than flat grassland. This hike starts with a nice rise and has some wonderful vista's - pasture, planted fields, small towns and a river in the distance, all very picturesque.
We have done this hike several times over the years, and each time we return I am reminded just how peaceful it is. Today there were monarchs floating on the currents, tall grasses that look like a moving ocean when seen from a distance, and of course sunflowers.
There are creeks that run through the prairie, with wooded areas that follow along the path. Today we saw a flock of wild turkeys down there. Running and foraging.
The remains of the Hokanson Homestead are fun to look at, I always like to imagine what it would have been like to live in the middle of this great prairie 100 years ago.
And of course we brought lunch with us. There is a wonderful scenic overlook several miles from the trailhead and the few times we have been there it's never crowded. We opened up the back of the Subaru, and reveled in the richness of our view, while we ate. I swung my feet in the breeze - is there anything more delightful than releasing your feet from the boots after a hike and putting on the Birkenstocks?
P.S. Krissy please tell Joe about this. The Subaru, hiking, Birkenstocks, trifecta with a multigrain monster cookie thrown in for good measure.
On a recent walk by the river, instead of going left, I decided to go right. Under the bridge, away from the corn fields, to see what was over there.
It turns out, there's quite a lot. Including but not limited to a new view of the river from a boat ramp area.
Cool street art under the overpass of the highway. Forgive the curse words, but I found this all very creative.
You gotta love a vulgarity that starts in "girly cursive" and ends with a smiley face. I have been trying to call to mind a picture of the artist.
There was a new path that looked interesting and will require further investigation.
And all along the way, cool cloud formations overhead.
This was my Labor Day walk. It's the only photo I took. Which does not mean I did not encounter many interesting things along the way.
At the very outset of the walk I cursed myself for forgetting my hat in the car, but then I smelled wild honeysuckle though I can't be sure it wasn't autumn clematis because I was too far away to identify the flower. Anyway, I was diverted by the pleasantness and walked on.
Next up, I spied an orange cat racing and jumping, fleeing from a dark gray cat that was in hot pursuit. The marmalade cat (who is the principal character in this scene) made it safely up to her deck after a mighty leap onto the railing. No fight ensued leading me to believe that there was a cat door she glided through. Into the waiting arms of her mama no doubt, who likely told her that was the very last time she was going to let her out. She would stick to this rule for approximately 3 days.
Immediately after this incident an older woman passed me riding her bicycle. She had a beauty shop hair-do. The kind that gets done once a week at a regular standing appointment time. She was wearing an animal print long sleeved rayon blouse that was blowing in the breeze. On her feet were black SAS shoes and her pants were slightly rolled up to reveal sheer black knee highs instead of athletic socks. She was proceeding at a slow steady pace as if she could ride for many miles and intended to do just that.
As she disappeared into the distance in front of me, I hoped that in 10-20 years I would be the one on the bike and there would be someone on the trail, glimpsing in me what the future may hold for her and being very glad for the possibility of it. As was I, today.
The end. There is no moral to this story.
Dottie stopped by Thursday night on her way from Albuquerque via Phoenix, then back to Albuquerque, up to Santa Fe, then Raton, with a little Colorado and Oklahoma thrown in for good measure before a stop in Concordia Kansas, a visit to Kansas City, and finally to Lawrence. Where it was weird to see your sister in a mask in your house. Until we had to take them off to eat fried chicken salad, garlic bread, wine, and Aunt Mabel's chocolate pie. I felt it was only right to ensure she was adequately nourished before rousing her before sunrise today to see some of my favorite walking spots.
It was a wonderful morning. The great blue herons and snowy egrets got my message and put in appearances. As did a swimming turtle, lots of snails, and all the spiders made sure the place was well decorated with banners. After our hike we stopped for a latte at La Prima Taza (a Lawrence classic that remains open though no inside seating). We looked in windows, said hi to a cat, sipped our latte's and then walked over by the river.
We packed 2 days worth time into 18 hours, and it was good. Very good. Actually it was most excellent.
Yesterday’s hikes were lakes, today there were rocks, streams, waterfalls, and chipmunks. And flower boxes in downtown Estes Park, which is not a hike, but still ...
While I hunt and peck this out on the iPad, Chris is searching for a lunch spot for us tomorrow. Burger, beer, riverfront, outdoor seating. Let me know if you know just the place.
Last week I decided to visit the Saunders Mound trail at Clinton Lake. With all these new walking places I have discovered, I have neglected a few old favorites.
It is as glorious as ever.
Pink clouds, big trees, sunrise over the water, a pretty deer, sunflowers in the morning light, and of course the lake.
We have a date to do this again before the month is up. I don't think it will be a hardship, but I will say the grasses are super tall right now, and the spiders are weaving some human catching webs across the trails. I am going to wear a bee-keepers helmet and a long sleeve shirt the next time. Which will hopefully cut down on the number of spaz attacks I have when I walk through one of them because I am not paying attention.
Purple skies are a bit less common in the sunrise hours in my experience. Perhaps, as with many things, it is just that my attention is only now drawn there, allowing me to experience this when it could best be appreciated. All photos taken with my iPhone, no editing needed.
Forty-five minutes into this walk lightning flashed, thunder rumbled, and the rain fell.
I love a morning that begins with an unexpected treasure. The unpredictable ending was a complete bonus.
On a day off, there is nothing better than racing the sun to see if you can arrive simultaneously at a designated spot to greet the day together. Today, victory! Below, the rewards of starting the day with the sun. The preamble and that first glorious hour of the day are unmatched. If you look closely in the pond, you will see the great blue heron who carried on with his morning routines as I saluted the sun.
P.S. if you have not listened to the Michelle Obama Podcast, promise me that you will. The episode with Michele Norris is a must.
For those of you who've never met a buttonbush before, allow me to introduce you. I made it's acquaintance on a recent walk. Super cool looking flower isn't it? At first glance it was reminiscent of the coronavirus image.
It's not uncommon for me to come across things not previously seen on a morning walk. Today for example, there was a moth with a very thin line of pistachio green all along the border of it's wings, only visible as it lifted off, and wandered on.
The other day while strolling on a crushed gravel trail looking for feathers, I found a piece of aqua sea glass that must have fallen out of the pocket of a woman working on a road crew. When the road was torn up years later it came to live on a path in Kansas instead of the ocean. Except it's now among friends on my porch.
Views of the sun coming up are not new but I swear to you each one is somehow unique. I collect them all.
The very best new thing I encountered last week was a sweaty young man with curly black hair, running along like he probably used to run on the playground when he was 6 years old. Excitedly. Arms going this way and that. He was having a very nice conversation with himself and he winked at me as he went by. I'm pretty sure that was code for "I'm having fun - pass it on".
At Mary’s lake, in addition to water, there are nice woods with deep shade, and open meadows with flowers. There are also lots of unmarked paths between these spaces waiting to be explored.
I did not expect the gentle sloping that got my ticker pounding as I went up and down, and up again, along the paths.
You might also want to know that I saw a branch along the path that resembled a sleeping fox, and another in the lake that looked like a floating alligator.
I also learned about cavity nesters, thanks to this helpful sign along the path. Another amble at this exact spot is planned for later this month. I let the flying squirrels know in case they want to practice their routines for an audience of one.
I have changed the language around my habit of walking. It wasn't a conscious decision, it just happened one day.
Before I went to bed I began to think about where I was going to GET to walk in the morning versus NEEDING to get a walk in, or BEING SURE I walked.
Instead of being a duty it has become a pleasure, a meditation, a favorite part of the day.
For the last many years I have been an early riser, sometimes piddling before I left the house. No more. It's up and out the door to see what there is to see right NOW.
Above are some of my recent walks (in no particular order). Dottie, Mary Ann, and I like to send each other what we are doing and discovering. It makes me want to explore whats around me, while also looking forward to the days ahead when we are again able to travel and enjoy each others outdoor spaces.
At the Baker wetlands right on the south/east side of Lawrence there are chattering red-winged black birds that sit atop tall narrow grasses that sway a bit under the weight. But never bend. How is that possible?
There are also what I believe are boxes of bees making honey, tended by an enterprising apiarist. Who I did not see.
I spotted a long legged bird taking flight as well as a squadron of geese who were waiting to get their final flight plan approved before leaving.
The Queen Anne's lace is in full bloom and the butterfly milkweed is ready and waiting for the monarchs.
There were also rabbits munching quietly with morning sun shining through their long silky ears. I did not bother them.
There were no muskrats or beavers spotted. But I was looking.
I am making it my mission to re-acquaint myself with every green space there is in Lawrence. My amazement knows no bounds. As does my delight.
If you go to the temple of the deep woods, where the paths are well marked, the shade is deep, and the wild roses are blooming, may offer a bit of advise?
If yours is the first car in the parking lot, meaning you are first on the trail, don't be like me and wait until 1/2 way through the hike to pick up a big stick to wave in front of you to break up all the cobwebs.
When I departed, I left this one in the vestibule. Feel free to use it and put it back for the next person. You will thank me.
On the other side of the dam, across from the glassy river area, there's a whole different feel to the river. The water tumbles instead of lying quietly.
Along the trail the sun comes up over the corn, you can hear the staccato tapping of woodpeckers in the cottonwoods, and the path unspools in front of you.
There are small and extra small horses, more corn, and egg-shaped iron things painted the color of robins eggs that may or may not have something to do with the dam?
I saw a sign for an open house, caught a glimpse of what looked like a waterfall across the way, and appreciated a variety of yellow flowers with tall hats along the path.
I did not take a photo of the man I passed wearing a Moody Blues t-shirt. I did tell him I hadn't thought about that group in years, to which he replied "I love those guys". I said "Nights in White Satin" and then we gave each other a thumbs up and went our separate ways.
In case you now need to hear the Moody Blues, for your convenience, there is this.
