I go for a bike ride at the St. Marks National Wildlife Refuge. But, first, an update.
Many thanks to everyone who offered kind, loving words to my last post.
I’m doing well because of you.
I’m doing well because the cold/heat therapy has really helped my arm/shoulder/neck (I guess the problem originates in my neck but is felt in my arm and shoulder. Nice.) An MRI has not been entirely ruled out, but I’m grateful I can sleep at night, the ache in my arm and shoulder completely gone.
I’m doing well because I’m grateful for the time we had with Maxine and all the many happy and funny memories I have of her.
I’m doing well because I’m becoming reengaged with writing. A new publication for book reviews has opened up on Medium–The Book Cafe–and I plan to publish some of my “old” book reviews there as well as new ones. I’ve been more active with another Medium publication–Crow’s Feet. Not just writing but also meeting with other writers and sharing hopes and dreams for the future of Crow’s Feet. I also have an essay in the works with yet another band of Medium writers. More importantly, while I was on my walk this morning, I voice-recorded an idea for my novel. Yup, these smartphones can be handy when you’re not smart enough to carry paper and pen with you.
I’m doing well because almost every morning this month, I’ve walked second thing in the morning (the first thing is feeding my furbabies). I listen to the birds rather than podcasts. I greet our resident red-shouldered hawks as they swoop by me and land on wires or fences. Through an app called Merlin Bird ID, I’ve learned that a large variety of birds grace my neighborhood: Carolina wren, cardinal, blue jay, pine warbler, cedar waxwings, robin, Baltimore oriole, downy woodpecker, house finches, goldfinches, to name a few. Some of these I might see at our bird feeders, but not all.
I’m doing well because several days ago, we went on a bike ride to the refuge and didn’t have one single mishap. Here are some of the sights.
A favorite spot to stop and have some tea and cake.
If you look at the center of the grassy field, you should see a tall lone tree with a couple of smaller ones near. Whenever we stop here, I fantasize about having a house on stilts way out there. Of course, it’s not possible to have a house way out there. It’s probably more marsh than field anyway. That’s why it’s only a fantasy, but one I always indulge in.
My bike with the moon!
It was a bit past 3:30 when I took this photo. I really like how the moon is “posed” between the handlebars.
No public entry to the most beautiful bayou in Florida.
You can imagine my deep disappointment when we found our way blocked. I had even brought my tripod for the sole purpose of photographing the birds that the sign is likely protecting. No worries, though. St. Marks has more than enough beauty to please my eye.
Panoramic at the corner of two trails.
I love taking panoramics, especially at the refuge.
Yet another panoramic.
We hadn’t gone far when I took another panoramic. In times like this, I feel the most peace with the world.
Another moon shot, this over Cypress trees.
On our way out, here’s another moon shot.
I hope you enjoyed viewing these photos as much as I enjoyed taking them. Again, my warmest thank-yous for the support you all have given me. I leave you with Raji in one of his favorite spots.
I usually go walking and that helps to a point. I am still grieving for Maxine. I guess that’s no surprise, but I didn’t expect to fall into a depression, one that I’m still trying to climb my way out of. Although it’s not fair to use my husband as a therapist, I’ve been doing that and it helps … to a point. He can’t fix my brain. Only I can do that.
I haven’t worked on my novel. I’ve only gotten as far as printing a revision and editing guidebook developed by the good folks at NaNoWriMo and signing up for a webinar with the awesome Allison Williams that is designed to help writers finish their book. Baby steps.
Further complicating my depression is some chronic achiness and weakness I’ve been having in my left shoulder and arm for a few weeks now. I finally got to see my chiropractor who sent me off for x-rays and told me to do cold/heat therapy as often as possible (20 minutes cold/20 minutes heat/40 minutes cold/40 minutes heat). A full round of therapy is two hours so I have to plan accordingly. The good news per the x-rays is that my nerves do not appear to be compressed. The bad news is my cervical osteoarthritis has worsened: more bone spurs, less cartilage. But, per my chiropractor, the deteriorating is “age-appropriate.” You know, no one ever used the phrase “age-appropriate” until after I turned 60. Just saying.
I go back to my chiropractor in a few days and, if all goes well (meaning the cold/hot therapy works), then I won’t need further treatment. If not, then he’ll refer me to a spinal orthopedist who will probably want to do an MRI which I do not want to do because I am claustrophic. I don’t care if they give you drugs to relax you. Just the thought of my head being in a small space is enough to send me into hysterics.
In the meantime, no yoga, no lifting with my left arm. But at least I can walk!
I am trying to get into the habit of going for a walk first thing in the morning, weather permitting. I used to do that but fell out of the habit some months ago. So far I’ve walked three mornings in a row, and it’s getting easier. I take my hot tea with me and that’s really kind of nice. I can’t drink and walk at the same time. I don’t have that kind of equilibrium, so I have to stop when I want to take a sip. I enjoy those moments, especially when there’s a hawk nearby to observe.
In the photo above, you should see a very small dark spot atop a branch in roughly the center of the photo. That’s a hawk.
The clouds were so interesting that morning. I would have enjoyed looking up at them all day if it weren’t for the literal pain in my neck.
Walking is therapeutic. While I sort out life without Maxine, I’ll keep walking. While I avoid working on my novel, I’ll keep walking.
Another year begins and not a moment too soon. I say “Good Riddance” to 2021. Yet another year of angst amongst preventable and unpreventable tragedy. I don’t have great hope for 2022 being a better year. I’m just hoping it won’t be worse. I’ll be doing my part to stay positive, to live in the moment, and to cherish each moment.
Thank you to everyone who offered condolences in the wake of Maxine’s crossing over the Rainbow Bridge.
Maxine (RIP).
These last few weeks have been rough, the house so quiet, feeling empty even with our remaining three feline friends. And yet … Life goes on. Junior, Wendy, and Raji need demand attention.
Junior stills insists on a lap in the evenings when we sit on the small sofa, where we enjoy a glass of wine before dinner or hot chamomile tea before bedtime.
Junior, always on the alert.
In the mornings, I get up an hour or so before my husband, starting my day quietly with a large mug of hot tea (lately, it’s been Earl Grey). Usually, Raji would stretch out on the large sofa at the far side of our living room, but he’s started a new habit: curling up on a pillow beside me.
Raji taking his morning nap.
What’s not to love about this face! How can either of us be sad for long when you have this guy looking at you every day?
“I’m so cute! Gotta love me!”
In the photo above, Raji is on Wendy’s fleecy blanket, the same fleecy blanket I brought her home in eight and a-half years ago. While Raji and Junior have established a relationship, Wendy and Raji are still working on theirs. They chase each other around the house occasionally, although it’s hard to tell whether Wendy enjoys it. I do know she doesn’t like Raji on her blanket.
“Just what is THAT on MY blanket?”
“Well, maybe we can share. Maybe.”
“On second thought, no, I’m NOT sharing!”
These two were in motion, hence the blurry photo. Wendy pretty much had Raji cornered. He couldn’t get off the bed without her getting a good swipe at him. Oh, well. If it ever gets cold enough here in north Florida, they might find their way to a truce.
Speaking of it not being cold enough here in north Florida, everything is blooming. Magnolia trees, wildflowers, hibiscus, morning glories, you name it. I have a red penta that hasn’t stopped blooming for months. Our Oregon grape is bursting with yellow flowers and attracting bees.
See the bee dangling from a flower in the upper right quadrant of the photo?
No, I’m not done with all writing, just writing my perpetual WIP. After wallowing in one extreme for awhile (no writing), I went the other extreme in November and completed 50,977 words toward my novel. These were all new words (although the majority can be found in the dictionary). I know some people would say NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) is crazy but there’s method to the madness, at least for me.
The commitment to write 50,000 words in a month means I have to put butt in chair and just do it. Although I know I don’t have to write 50k, the challenge is there and so I try to meet it. At times it was grueling. I took a day off now and then which meant that I really had to crank out the words on the other days. Here’s me after one long day of writing.
After a long day of writing, I am consoled (sort of) by Maxine (on my lap), Junior (on pillow next to me) and Raji (above me; with our temps getting chillier, he’s getting friendlier).
I finished on November 27 so I could have a couple of day to just zone out. Plus November 30 was my husband’s birthday so I didn’t want to spend that day writing.
I’m going to take December “off” from working on my novel, but I’ll recommit myself to writing daily. I don’t know what I’ll write but anything is better than nothing at this point. Who knows? Maybe I’ll try poetry! I bought Diane Lockward’s The Strategic Poet, thanks to Luanne Castle’s review of it. You can read her review by clicking here.
In other news …
MY SISTER IS HOME! Sorry for shouting, but you understand why. Yup, she came home on November 24, the day before Thanksgiving. That’s what my brother-in-law (and the rest of us) had been hoping and praying for. I’ve talked to her twice so far, and I cannot tell you how good it was to talk with her. She’s sounds like herself: lucid, ready with a laugh, positive, strong. Her sons boast about how hard she worked at physical therapy, knowing that the better she got, the sooner she’d go home. Now we can all breathe.
Maxine is still hanging in there, but she’s more or less getting hospice care now. At the last vet visit a couple of weeks ago, we learned that her kidney enzymes have shot up again. We could hear the disappointment in our vet’s voice. We all knew we couldn’t stop the kidney disease from progressing but we had been hopeful we could slow it down. Oh, well. To keep her hydrated, we’re giving her subcutaneous fluids every other day. To keep nausea at bay, we’re also giving her Cerenia every day. Mealtime is a challenge because she’s become “picky.” She’s a slow eater so we put her in a closed room by herself. She’s gets distracted by the boys trying to break the door down (sigh), but if she’s given enough time, she’ll eat most of her food. She seems to like leaving some behind for the boys.
So, good news about my sister; not good news about Maxine. Meanwhile, we’ve made a couple of trips to St. Marks Refuge to ride our bikes. I did not fall once.
Here’s a few scenes from our last bike ride, timed so we would be out on the dikes at sunset.
This is my favorite section of what is called the Deep Creek trail. The bayou is usually full of waterfowl: ducks, wood storks, spoonbills, herons, etc.
My husband riding away.
Opposite the sunset.
It was a fun bike ride that almost didn’t happen. About a mile and a half out, my rear tire went flat. Fortunately, my husband was carrying a new tube so we didn’t have to spend time trying to find and repair the leak. He saved the day again.
Now I have a lot of catching up to do and that means reading your blogs!
The Rascals beat out the Beatles as my favorite music group when I was growing. I had a major crush on Felix.
Many thanks to everyone who commented on my Monday post and provided me with sage advice. Ironically (maybe?), on Wednesday, before I got around to responding to comments, I made myself work on my novel a bit. I wrote about 600 words. Then I rewarded myself by reading the comments. Surprise, surprise (to no one), most of you suggested I write about 500 words a day. Well, golly gee, I had just written 600! And then today (Thursday), I wrote another 982. I do believe I’m grooving. My daily goal going forward will be 500 words. If I’m inspired and write more, well, that’s icing. But if I write at least 500, I can stop guilting myself for having (and needing) other interests.
Speaking of other interests and the multiple ways I’ve been avoiding writing, I forgot to mention exercise. In mid-July, my husband and I rejoined our local gym, and we have been faithfully going there three times a week, working out for an hour-and-a-half to two hours. We’re retired so we can take all the time we want. I’ve lost some weight and gained some muscle in the process. Given all that’s happened to my sister, I am even more focused on building strong muscles.
And then there’s the bike riding, which we did Tuesday. What a beautiful day. And, as it was a weekday, we saw few people.
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As it happens, when we go for bike rides, my mind wanders and often I think of my novel. That’s what I did on Tuesday so I was primed to do some writing on Wednesday.
Your encouragement helped as well as it always does.
A bit of good news before I close this post. Maxine had a checkup today and her creatine values have dropped yet again, to 4.4. Still elevated, but a hell of a lot better than 6.9. Her urine is still clear of bacteria, but the vet wants us to do two more weeks of the twice daily antibiotic injections. Apparently, that is the regimen. Who are we to argue? She promised that if Max’s urine is still clear after two weeks, then we can stop. We might even be able to reduce her subcutaneous fluids. The only real disappointing news is that now she has anemia so new meds (yay!) for the next two weeks. That cat is turning into a poster child for the pharmaceutical industry.
But she’s doing good. She really is. She’s peeing and pooping in the litter boxes more often than not. She’s steady on her feet and generally trots to her meals (food is her reason for being). She’s still sleeping a lot, but not when there’s food around. I don’t have high expectations for her, as she does have chronic kidney disease, but she really seems to be enjoying a better quality of life than she was a month ago. We are grateful.
Maxine chilling out after her morning with the vet.
In a New Yorker article (September 13, 2021), author Amia Srinivasan made this observation: “[…] the Internet, […] has simultaneously given us too much to read and corroded our capacity to read it.” The context was feminism and what we think we know about it, but her description of how the Internet has impacted reading applies far beyond her subject.
It’s something I struggle with every day. So much to read, especially online, but also on my Kindle and my bookshelves, the dining room table and the living room desk where magazines pile high. And yet I’m supposed to be writing.
I know I’ve been going through a stressful time. Which requires a couple of updates:
My sister’s cast was removed last week and she was fitted with a walking boot. She’s still at the facility, but she’s been having more good days lately than bad days. The facility change was definitely a good move. Still, the uncertainty as to when she’ll come home and what kind of help my brother-in-law will given as he continues care for her subdues my efforts to be positive. We all just keep saying, “One day at a time.”
Maxine, our feline dowager, has been more her old self lately. Spunky, willful, and talkative. She’s been handling our handling of the twice daily antibiotic injections and every-three-days subcutaneous fluids quite well. My husband has even been able to give her the antibiotic injection by himself, that is, without me having to hold her still. Unfortunately, she has “good” days and “bad” days: good days are when she limits her pee and poop output to a litter box or a potty training pad; bad days are when she and Junior get in a tussle and, in her excitement, she poops on the kitchen floor (this morning) or when she sits on the potty training pad but still pees on the floor (also this morning).
I’ve been working through my stress not by writing, but by gardening (healthy activity) and binging on a podcast call Casefile (maybe, maybe not healthy). If you enjoy true crime stories (is enjoy the right word?), check out Casefile by clicking here. A few things I like about the podcast:
The narrator is anonymous. He wants the audience to stay focused on the survivors and victims in these stories; however, his fans call him Casey.
The podcast has no dramatic reenactments, no roleplaying, no editorializing, no aimless, mindless banter. Casey narrates in a steady, calm voice. Occasionally he narrates dialogue, which can sometimes be humorous with his Australian accent.
I say no editorializing, but Casey’s empathy toward survivors and victims is real. At the beginning of each podcast, he cautions the listener in case the crime is of a particularly disturbing nature, such as crimes against children. For example, I chose to not listen to the episodes on The Moors Murders because Casey admitted he had to stop recording a couple of times because he was so disturbed by the abuse done to the children.
He has, on occasion, expressed frustration with law enforcement responses (or lack thereof) to violence against women. But he doesn’t rant, he doesn’t rail. He just points out when injustice is being served.
The episodes do not focus gratuitously on details of crimes. Casefile only shares what is necessary to understand the seriousness of a crime, which doesn’t require a second-by-second account of an assault or a murder.
The podcast often includes interviews, audio clips and other materials, providing a deeper context of the crime.
The effort Casey and his team put into their research and production is impressive. Links to their sources are provided with each episode.
My most recent binge from Casefile was several episodes on crimes committed by the The East Area Rapist, the Original Night Stalker, and the Golden State Killer in the late 70s to mid-80s who happen to all be one man–Joseph DeAngelo. The best episode was the last one where Casey read or played clips of survivors’ impact statements at DeAngelo’s sentencing hearing. It was the best episode because too often, justice is not found. In this case, it was. A little late, but that was due to the limitations of forensic testing at the time, the fact that DeAngelo was a former cop and knew how to avoid capture and identification, and lack of communication among the various law enforcement agencies involved.
Finally, if you write crime fiction, this podcast will teach you a lot about crime, the justice systems in the U.S. as well as other countries, and how law enforcement, even with truly dedicated officers, can be hampered in their efforts to find and bring the perpetrators to justice.
Now, what about my novel, which is about a murder?
I don’t consider myself a gardener really, but I might allow myself to wear the label of amateur gardener. I am thrilled when one of my plants starts to bloom. Why, hello there, Georgia Aster! I’m so grateful to have a fall-blooming plant.
Georgia Aster. Photo by Marie A Bailey.
My red penta is still going strong, and I’ve planted a lavender penta and a red-yellow lantana in the front yard. Fingers crossed that I can keep them safe during the winter. The following Ruellia or Mexican petunia was an impulse buy.
Ruellia simplex. Photo by Marie A Bailey.
We had gone to Home Depot to order a new dishwasher (a whole other story, but let me just say that we’re never buying GE appliances again). I needed a couple of pots so we went to the gardening section. This lovely purple plant caught my eye. We’ve seen it around our city so, hey, let’s get a pot and see what happens.
What happened was I did some research since the pot only said the plant was Ruellia. Well, according to the iSeek app, this is Ruellia simplex, a highly invasive plant.
WTF.
Through my research (and panic … what does one do with an invasive plant and why was it being sold at Home Depot????), I found the distributor (Costa Farms) who claims: “We sell sterile Mexican petunia varieties that don’t spread by seed. However, these are often vigorous plants and can colonize quickly in gardens and landscaping beds and borders — especially when grown in rich soil.” Okay, fine. The Ruellia I see around town seem well-controlled, but I’ll have to think long and hard about this. It’s so tempting to plant just this one in the front yard, yet perhaps I should keep it in a container.
Meanwhile, there’s that novel I should be working on.
One of the joys of gardening is discovering critters who like to eat my plants. I have three Black Swallowtail larvae on my Rue which is fine because that’s what Rue is for.
Larvae for Black Swallowtail. Photo by Marie A Bailey
More Black Swallowtail larvae. Photo by Marie A Bailey
I’ve also been knitting. Finally finished this wool lap blanket so I can put it away in my cedar chest since cold temperatures won’t be arriving down here anytime soon.
Teal and purple wool lap blanket. Photo by Marie A Bailey.
I’ve started crocheting granny squares for a larger blanket in a desperate effort to use up my stash.
I have a punch needle kit and a cross-stitch kit as well as three knitting projects waiting for my attention. And sewing? Did I mention sewing?
And then there’s my novel. Oh, boy. You see what I’m doing here?
I’m avoiding my novel because I’m intimidated by the idea of writing from the POV of three narrators. My instinct (these days anyway) says to stick with one, that it will be enough of a challenge to write in first person. I’m trying to work through that. I’m trying to get my writing groove back. But I’m a bit overwhelmed.
Going back to the quote at the beginning of my post, I am realizing that I’m my own worst enemy when it comes to being distracted and drowning. I need to develop some discipline if I’m ever going to finish my novel.
So what do you all do? You publishing writers out there: How do you organize your time? I see a lot of you engage in social media. How do you manage to do that AND work on your writing? Is it just a trick of the Internet that you all seem to be out and about on social media all the time? How do you manage to stay engaged and yet productive?
Thank you for reading, and thanks in advance for any advice you wish to share.
Bonus cat photo: Junior, the green-eyed bully who harasses Maxine until she poops.
Junior, green-eyed monster. Photo by Marie A Bailey
You all were so kind with my last post that I want to give you a brief update. Bear with me because the news starts out as not-good.
My sister had a setback on Saturday. She was moved back to the hospital and given IV fluids. We were all very upset, not understanding what was happening to her, and I still don’t know what happened. But the IV fluids worked! Early this morning my sister called her husband from the hospital and talked to him for 20 minutes! He reported that she was lucid, doing well, acting like her normal self. Since this morning, I’ve been getting texts from my nephews as they visit her and share their joy.
My sister was transferred back to the nursing home today, and I was able to talk to her this afternoon. She doesn’t remember anything about the weekend except that she had weird dreams. She chatted about how much she needs to get her hair washed and what clothes her husband should bring her since she’ll be in rehab for a while. She laughed and complained that her roommate had the TV on too loud so she wants someone to bring her ear plugs … otherwise she’ll go deaf. She laughed, and I was flooded with relief. She’s going to be okay.
As for my cat Maxine: after two weeks on antibiotics, she still has bacteria in her urine and elevated white blood count so a culture was sent off to a lab. We went through this with her a couple of years ago, trying different antibiotics and then a different vet (heh heh). We learned that an old cat such as herself could have a UTI that is untreatable by antibiotics. The thing is, she seems just fine. Aside from being hit-and-miss with the litter boxes, she’s spunky … like my sister.
This week, Patti has us thinking about size–from large to small. Her instructions (or suggestions, depending on how compliant you aim to be … (smile)): For this challenge, pick a color and select several photos that feature that color. Start with a photo of a big subject in that color (for example, a wall) and move all the way down to a small subject in that same color (for example, an earring).
I was initially stumped until I started looking at how others were meeting the challenge. The dim bulb in my head got a little brighter.
The color I choose is pink. When I was in my late 50s, I had an obsession with the color pink. I was buying pink clothes, pink laptop covers, pink yarn, pink fabric. I drank pink lemonade. My desire for pink ran amok. I think it was because I actually hated pink when I was a little girl. Blue was my color then. So maybe my obsession was just making up for lost time.
Tina asks us to go from large to small, here goes …
Here’s a variety of pink in a light quilt that I made many years ago. In the photo, I am under the quilt. Wendy is cradled by my legs, her nightly routine.
Smaller than my quilt is one of my favorite shirts, which is mostly pink. It’s made of quick-dry fabric making it a great travel shirt, and the color has not faded at all in the many years I’ve had it. Whenever I need a visual pick-me-up, this shirt does it for me.
Smaller than my shirt is … wait! What’s Maxine doing here? No, she’s not pink-colored, but she does have a connection to the color pink.
Maxine’s story
Maxine showed up on our back porch in January 2009 and refused to leave (she knows a sucker when she sees one … or two). We made the usual effort to try and find her original staff. After a few days of no response to our inquiries, we took her to our vet to see if she was chipped. Yes, she was! We learned then that Maxine hailed from Miami (only about 400 miles south of Tallahassee), that she had been adopted in 2004 (making her five whole years old), and … wait for it …
her original name was Pink.
However, she’s forever Maxine (or Max or Maxie) to us.
Smaller than a cat–! I bet you all were wondering when I was going to sneak flowers into this challenge. I recently purchased this Gerbera daisy (aka Barberton Daisy). I could look at it all day and every day … which, actually, I do since it’s on my deck.
The flowers of my Madagascar Periwinkle are definitely smaller than the Gerbera Daisy.
Lastly, smaller than them all, one of my favorite earrings in pinkish glass.
I hope you enjoyed my answer to this week’s challenge. Remember, if you wish to participate in the From Large to Small, be sure to link to Patti’s original post and include the “Lens-Artists” tag.
Personal note: I’ve closed comments on this post. My husband is scheduled for back surgery on Friday. Although it is outpatient surgery and a relatively simple procedure, I need and want to give him undivided attention now and through his recovery. I know you all understand.
Stay safe, well, and happy. Be sure to tell the important people in your life that you love them.
Last Friday we went on another bike ride to the St. Marks National Wildlife Refuge. Practice makes near-perfect. I’m becoming more comfortable riding bikes which is a good thing since my knees and feet no longer want to walk the miles we used to at the Refuge.
I rode bikes when I was growing up in New York, but I’m wasn’t then and am not now mechanically inclined. Cue my husband who patiently provides guidance on how to adjust the front and back derailleurs so I don’t fatigue my legs to the point of exhaustion … which is what I was doing on this latest bike ride.
The wind was against us … literally … until we got off the bayous trails and turned right toward the Pinhook River. The bayou trails can be grassy and soft. At one point I was riding slow, got distracted and felt my bike come to a stop. Now, for me, if my bike comes to a stop when I’m not ready, that can only mean one thing: I’m going to fall. Luckily, I was able to get my right toes on the ground. Unluckily, I was stuck on my seat. If I moved my right foot, I would fall. So I yelled to my husband and he came to the rescue, holding my bike handles until I could ease myself off the seat.
Luckily, no one but my husband was around to witness my humiliation.
The second time, I wasn’t so lucky and, more unluckily, I fell while on a small concrete bridge where we had stopped to take a break. I’m not sure what happened, only that I had gotten on my bike, the front tire turned when I didn’t want it to, and I couldn’t press the pedals hard enough to put the bike back in motion. I knew I was going to fall, and I did. Pretty hard on my right knee and elbow. Luckily, it was a cool day so I had layers on, although my knee still got some serious road rash (it’s been over a week and the scrape is still healing while the area below my knee displays a changing palette of yellows, blues, and purples).
After these two episodes of near- and definite falling, I adjusted my derailleurs per my husband’s suggestions.
I took fewer photos on this trip. I was too busy enjoying the views. The thistles were still in glorious abundance, alligators were here and there (but mostly there, thankfully), and the day was just lovely.
These photos were taken early on our ride, where the thistles were plentiful. You all know I’ve got a jones for close-ups, especially when insects are about.
See how industrious and tenacious this little busy bee was.
Here’s a panoramic at the intersection of a couple of trails. You can see why we keep coming back.
A view of the other side of the trail to the left.
On our way back to the car, we stopped for a moment and I took this photo. The light seemed particularly lovely right there.
And now for a Raji update!
Your eyes do not lie. That’s Raji and Junior “spooning.” Now, Junior really wasn’t thrilled that Raji wanted to snuggle, but we thought it was adorable! Every day we say how lucky we are that Raji is Raji: a lover, not a fighter. He’s also getting used to being petted, brushed and picked up. When he lived in the garage, he loved to be petted and brushed. When he came into the house, he shied away from both activities for a long while, but we’re wearing him down with love and patience.
Hope you all are well, happy, and healthy. Stay safe!
Monday (March 29) we went for a bike ride at the St. Marks National Wildlife Refuge. As you all know, the Refuge is my favorite part of north Florida. It’s a magical place full of birds, insects, flowers, trees, marshes, swamps, turtles, and alligators, to name a few of my favorite things. Without further ado …
Thistles, specifically, the Horrible Thistle (Cirsium horridulum)–no doubt named for it’s spiny stem and leaves–lined the trails we rode on. We had a slow start on our ride because both of us had to stop and take photos.
In all the years we’ve visited the Refuge, we’ve never seen so many thistles.
Insects were enjoying them too. I guess you could say there was a lot of pollinating going on.
Other wildflowers and creatures were in abundance as well.
Sagittaria platyphylla
Southern Fleabane, Aster family
My favorite frog, the tree frog, delta duck potato (that’s the Sagittaria platyphylla) and southern fleabane.
We took the long way around, over the farthest dike which I don’t believe I had been on before. We’ve traveled these trails by foot many times, but usually taking the dikes more inland. As we went back inland, more thistles.
A bald eagle on *his* tree. The majority of times we’ve come out here, he’s perched on that branch.
More water. I know there’s alligators in those waters, but often I wish we would ply our canoe around the marshy area.
It looks serene. Not too far from this spot, there is a primitive camping area. My husband said he’d like to camp there someday. Lovely idea … if only we didn’t have bad knees and bad backs and I wasn’t afraid of gators on land.
I could see he had a big grin, as if to say, “Come on in. The water’s fine!” No, thank you.
I think this guy was playing hide-and-seek. No matter where I walked, his head was hidden by the reeds. Fortunately, he’s too large to be completely hidden.
We saw a couple of other gators on our ride, but they were actually ON the trail so there was no stopping for photo ops. We just kept spinning our wheels and holding our breaths until we were clear.
Ah, life in North Florida. Even Raji likes St. Marks.
Ha ha ha … I LOVE photography apps! I made this photo of Raji at St. Marks with the Superimpose Classic app. It only costs $1.99, and this is the first photo merge I’ve done. I’m so happy with it, I had to put my name on it ;)
I hope you enjoyed the trip. Another one will be coming up soon!
I hope you all are well, healthy, happy, and vaccinated (if not now, then soon).
Marie at 1 Write Way 