Tall Tales from Kansas

as I saluted the sun

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.

I'm having fun - pass it on

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".

I let the flying squirrels know

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. 

a pleasure, a meditation, a favorite part of the day

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. 

with morning sun shining through their long silky ears

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.

I left this one in the vestibule

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. 

egg-shaped iron things painted the color of robin's eggs

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.