Visual Overload

When April hands you a sunny weekend with summer temperatures, you run with it. Well, I didn't run, but I did everything else. I traipsed through the nearby woods to look for more lovely fungus. Besides the joy of no people, no mosquitoes, no brambles and no ticks, there was the surprise of these bloodroot in their endless variation.

While I snapped photos, a pair of hawks shrieked overhead. I don't think they appreciated me wandering so close to their nest.

The lovely cecropia colored fungi had dried up, but I found much more to ooh and ahh over. I could fill a book with pictures of mosses, lichens and fungus from this few acres of woods, set aside as open space by the township.
This downed tree, one of dozens that kept me wondering what storms I had missed, mesmerized me with its abstract patterns.
As I was heading out of the woods, I happened upon this skull, deer I assume.

The weather was glorious, so I made the most of it. After my walk in the woods, I spent some time in my own yard. I weeded, cleared the garden, turned in the compost, and busted my knuckle on the wheelbarrow.
I took some pictures of the pretties in between chores. These are called glory of the snow, and they are described as blue or purple blue in my garden books, but they still look lavender to me. The striped squill have spread all over the front yard and the woods. They are a tiny, happy surprise every Spring. And I guess they are kindof blue, so much for my declaration of no blue flowers.

The tulips emerged and bloomed in a matter of days. I never cease to be amazed. If all this wasn't enough, I went for a long walk in a riverside forest preserve with the dog while the daughter volunteered at the animal shelter. I saw some things, oh yes, I did.

This little fox was wandering boldly along the side of the road, checking in every nook and cranny for something to eat. I snapped these from the car, and followed him for as long as I could. I even called to it, silly me, because I had dog biscuits and crackers and wanted to share them. I didn't realize until I saw the pictures that the eyes were closed in every shot. I hope it is squinting in the bright sun and not blind as it appears to be. I can't stop wondering about the little thing, wishing to keep it fed and safe. Oh, what to do in the face of such things.
Then, more mysteries. What the heck is going on here? This pole goes through this tree and out a branch, resting on the branch of a neighboring tree. It must have been done years ago, but by who, and how and why?
If that wasn't exciting enough, how about this old man in the tree? I laughed as I snapped these pictures.
Then there were the fossil rocks, strewn amid the glacial till and boulders, just waiting for me to find. Imagine, an ocean in Illinois, eons ago, its evidence carried here by a glacier and dumped in the prairie. And this strange growth on a tree whose name I've forgotten - cedar maybe? Then these tiny, lovely mosses. I was beside myself.


Yes, it was a very full day. April 10, 84 degrees, and I got to spend most of it outside. My eyes saw more than my brain could process, just like most days.

Now April is returning to its regularly scheduled programming, but I hear rumors of more unseasonably mild days ahead. I'll be ready for them. And I'll take anyone who wants to come along with me.