“Ooh, I know what’s going on,” Rascal announced this morning, as he pranced into the garage and hopped into the car. “We’re getting dropped off somewhere and walking home from there. Oh, boy!” He was right, too. He doesn’t like riding in the car, but he sure enjoys less-familiar walks. My husband dropped us off at Huron Parkway and Glacier Way, we crossed to the shady side of the street, and off we went.
Ann Arbor built Huron Parkway as a lovely greenbelt, half a century ago, to keep east-side traffic moving north and south from having to go through downtown. The road serves both purposes well: it’s a main artery, and it’s beautiful. It spans or borders natural areas, parks, creeks, the river, and a city golf course. The section of parkway north of the river is a boulevard with the medians kept wild, so they’re full of wildflowers and critters that feed on them and use them for cover, from pollinators right on up through deer.
The stretch Rascal and I walked today is all, very gradually, uphill. Which means, of course, that in the other direction it’s all downhill. One summer, our high-schooler decided to take a couple summer classes to make room in her schedule for more of the classes she really wanted to take during the regular school year.
That was great; it’s good to have an eager learner. Only the school bus didn’t run during the summer. Transportation was up to us. So, what we worked out is that our daughter would ride her bike to school, which might or might not involve any actual peddling, depending on whether or not she had to stop at lights. And, after class, I’d show up with the car, and we’d put the bike in the trunk and motor home. Worked like a charm. That story came to mind on today’s walk home.
Any critters taking refuge in the median wildflowers were well and truly hidden. I also saw some goldfinches in the act of disappearing into the spruces. The little birds are bright enough to spot easily enough, but they’re smaller than the spruce cones hanging from the trees. Thus, the finches land in the treetops and vanish.
The trees where the finches can do this still appear to have most of their cones, unlike the spruces around the neighborhood. The concentration of red squirrels must be higher around here, and they regard spruce cones as a crop to be harvested. Not only that, but they feel that the earlier in the day they bring in the crop, the better.
Hence, at this and various other points in the year, it is not unusual to wake to the dulcet strains of thud, roll-roll-roll, thud! Those are the sounds of one spruce cone hitting the roof, rolling down the slope of the roof, and hitting the wooden deck. As the cones are quite cylindrical and dense, they roll splendidly and land with a bang. Rascal and I walked past a driveway with a pile of spruce cones at the bottom, by the sidewalk. The sound track for cone harvesting at that house must be a little different than at ours.
School started this week, which means that for part of our morning walks, the dog and I share the sidewalks with elementary school pupils and their families. On Monday, before the go-to-school rush, one enterprising upper-elementary boy got in a solo run. Although he was quite grown-up and dedicated about his exercise when he passed us, he couldn’t resist the occasional jump to swat at leaves on overhanging trees.
Soon after, another younger fellow ran by with his dad. This child also jumped up to swat at leaves. Later, when the going-to-school parade walked by, several other youngsters performed the jump-and-swat routine. All the ones I saw were boys, but I hope girls get in on the fun, too.
Far away from the school crowd, on Tuesday, I saw something silent and lovely: a giant eastern swallowtail butterfly. It came in for a landing—no thud involved—and spread its wings all the way open. The giant swallowtail is the largest butterfly in North America; this one was about six inches across. Its wings were dark brown with a striking pattern of white dashes running east-west across the whole span of its back with another set of diagonal dashes making triangles toward its body.
It was a thrill to see it by Oakwoods Nature Area and a no-name pond. Had any trees overhung the path there, I might have jumped up and swatted them.
1 September 2023
I too hope the school girls join in the fun of swatting leaves! What a good way to get the school day started! What a great description of the Huron Parkway. It made me want to get on my bicycle and ride it again.