As, Lady and I rambled off this morning, I was expecting to see more storm damage than we did. But there was not that much, just one branch down on the road by the ball field on the edge of town.
While I was picking the branch up and throwing it to the side, I spotted a robin hopping closer and closer to a half-grown rabbit sitting in the high grass past the fence in left field.
I was curious just how close the robin would be able to get.
And what the robin would do if it actually got close enough to peck or touch the rabbit.
It was a moment to savor. And I savored this one.
Heard a blue jay again this morning in town. Along with a bunch of mourning doves and robins. Maybe it was a sort of sigh of relief after the storms yesterday.
As we crossed the side rail, separating the town from the wildness of the town pond, half a dozen doves and more blackbirds than that lifted from picking grit along the tracks.
Canada geese families floated on the north old clay pit. I am stunned how fast the goslings grow. Some of them are nearly half the size of the adults.
A belted kingfisher flew down the east shore of the north pit. Nice to see one of my favorite birds again.
Then a green heron startled us when it flew out from under the bridge (Hello, Three Billy Goats Gruff.)
I am surprised how slow the mulberries are in ripening. I wonder if the two drought years somehow knocked them out of routine.
Back on the edge of town, graffiti on one of the cars waiting on a side rail by the grain elevators caught my eye. I always struggle with whether graffiti of the artistic sort is art, vandalism or a brew of both. (Hello, Charles Demuth.)
For me, it was a different sort of wild moment to savor.
Another moment to savor came when Lady, our family's mutt, and I turned to go downtown on Station Street.
Outside of the Station Street Pub, the town's corner tavern, two rather fancy butt cans were sitting.
They were both labeled Butt Bucket and had a Chicago Bears logo at the top.
Somehow the Bears logo seems apt for a butt bucket.
A baby rabbit, just big enough to fill my hand, sat and waited on us by a car outside the garage downtown. I was half afraid it would wait so long that Lady would have a good go at it and engulf it in one bite, but it's survival sense kicked in and it ran under a car.
Back home, a gray squirrel leaped up the neighbor's oak before Lady could spot it. Doves fluttered off our dogwood and front porch. A lone squirrel bolted from below the bird feeder.
The morning had its moments. Those moments set the tone for my day. Or so I hope.