I do love the quiet beauty of the morning and I have been long remiss in visiting David Fortier River Park in Olmsted Falls, Ohio. There I have seen the West Branch of the Columbia River in full fury — roaring waters that threatened to end anyone or anything that ventures too near or happens to make a misstep. Recent drought conditions have tamed the rivers here. On this morning’s journey I promised myself to make a quick stop for a taste of tranquility; I am so glad I did. The morning light was subdued by clouds. To spite the drought the stony valley was lush, damp, and green. The river itself was running low, there was no flowing water at all in a tributary joining it, and the peace of the place was thick as the morning’s air. I was reminded of the first time I set eyes upon the park –one of my favorite places– and wondered how I could have stayed away so long. Time passed quickly and I was expected elsewhere. Too soon departed from this lovely place.
morning
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Sometimes I spy something special during my long commute to work. A morning fog was veiling the West Branch of the Columbia River so, after crossing the bridge, I swung my car into a pull-off. As I headed on foot back to the bridge to try and capture the image I’d seen in my mind’s eye, I noticed something else. Just off the path was the remnant of a fallen tree, well on its way to returning to the soil that once nourished it. The deep colors of the rotting wood were marvelous and, as it turned out, my river pictures were not.
Today was a day off due to the Memorial Day holiday observance. Our little town had a solemn ceremony at a local cemetery that is home to a war memorial. We spent the morning revisiting the Bath Road heron rookery and neighboring Ira Road/Beaver Marsh nature areas in and near the Cuyahoga Valley National Park (CVNP). The rookery continued to be noisy with the chatter of the many birds occupying nests high in the trees. Once in a while a bird would leave seeking food or arrive bearing it for the burgeoning young. It’s hard to spot the birds amongst the trees but those nests that are visible harbor several large birds these days. I did manage to capture one bird feeding another — a tangle of necks and feathers — though that was even harder to see! Human families, too, dropped by to see how their avian counterparts were doing. I think in many cases the parents were more interested than their children in what the birds were up to but I was heartened to see so many people out appreciating the show.

A young Great Blue Heron quietly wades in the shallows with biting flies pestering it all the while.
The Towpath Trail, key to much of the popularity of the park, was seemingly busy as a freeway with families out riding their bicycles. Though a cyclist myself, I nearly forgot where I was and almost stepped into the path of an oncoming cyclist! Among the many visitors to these particular areas, however, were many birdwatchers. A small group of them, along with us, was surprised when a young Great Blue Heron alighted on a tree branch only about 20 feet overhead. After a quick preening, the bird glided down and landed in the shallow waters of the Ohio & Erie Canal, just south of the Ira Road Trailhead. She Who Must Be Obeyed and I quickly and quietly hiked down the trail to see what we might see. We were treated to close-up views of an apparent juvenile bird as it slowly waded in the shadows, seeking a meal. Though we were close, the heron seemed either not to care or was unaware of our presence as we took turns shooting photos from the bank of the canal. Plants and twigs blocked much of our view so when we felt we got as good photos as we could, we left the heron to its work and headed north on the trail.
We enjoyed the short walk along the canal and up to Beaver Marsh where nature-lovers were watching Tree Swallows, Wood Ducks (and ducklings), turtles, and fish. Nature watchers happily pointed out their discoveries to each other helping us, by the way, to see a Baltimore Oriole and her nest. The day was hot and humid so we sought shade and lunch around midday. It was, however, a fine day out once again and way too soon to be thinking about work!
Since the weather was predicted to be “hot, hazy, and humid,” we decided to get out and take a photo-hike in the cooler, early-morning hours. One of my favorite beautiful places in the area is the rocky gorge of Chippewa Creek as it flows through the city of Brecksville, Ohio. She Who Must Be Obeyed had never visited the riverbed so we had a first destination. We enjoyed a bagel breakfast at the Bruegger’s Bagels place near the entrance to the metropark, and hiked down into the broad space. The last six feet or so are a bit of a scramble from an earthen riverbank to the washed stone floor, easily handled however. The steep walls of the passage bear the scars of millennia of erosion, weathering, and plant action; they are dark, often damp, and in places support abundant ferns and mosses.
Trees, atop the rock walls, form a canopy over much of the area as their upper branches join overhead. With little recent rain, the creek was low and the riverbed mostly dry — perfect for exploration. At least that’s what I thought. She found a slick spot on a smooth rock and tumbled forward, skinning Her knee, nearly damaging her new camera, and threatening to spoil the experience. She recovered, however, and seemed to enjoy the rest of our visit. We found various objects and scenes to photograph — it’s a dark place which can make picture-taking difficult — but I’d brought my tripod this day! After a while, we climbed back out of the valley and enjoyed a good, long, challenging hike on designated Cleveland Metroparks trails. The peace of the place remains with me.
Sunday dawned clear and cold. Thanks to Her most excellent recipe and cooking skills, we enjoyed a fine breakfast of waffles and maple syrup. Because the morning was so fine, we took off for a visit and walk at the Cleveland Metroparks Zoo. We arrived just at opening, easily found parking close to the entrance, and began our stroll.
Being early, the middle of winter, and a Sunday morning, few other humans were to be seen. Many of the usual animal greeters were nowhere to be seen. We reached the new Elephant Crossing facilities and decided to go indoors and see the residents. The experience was wonderful.
Though built like a set out of Jurassic Park, the elephant barn was clean, warm, and had the scent of fresh hay. The tusked residents were lined up, each in his or her own stall, facing outward. On the other side of the enclosure cables was a line of keeper/trainers, one for each animal.
The trainers quietly called out commands, lightly tapping their charges with long cane sticks, and the huge animals responded. Sometimes the elephants would turn around, then stop. Sometimes they raised their trunks. All the while the zoo residents munched on fresh bales of hay. Frequently treat wafers were tossed into huge mouths requested open by trainers. The exercises were not for show; they were valuable interactions designed to keep the giant creatures connected with their people and manageable for common and important tasks. Elephants smoothly moved from enclosure to enclosure, as remotely-controlled heavy partition doors glided open or shut with an echoing metallic boom. We left, smiling, to continue our walk.
Along the pathways we saw kangaroos out in their grassy enclosure, the green dotted with patches of snow. Appropriately, we watched antlered reindeer grazing in their snowy run and wolves patrolling their wooded home. When we reached the outdoor lion enclosure we were surprised and delighted to find an African lion lounging in the now-midday sunshine, enjoying a little snack. “Leo” was licking and gnawing on some other animal’s leg bone.
After lunch we went home. The winds rose. The clouds rolled in. And it snowed. No more sunshine. No more pretty green grass. It was a zooy Sunday.
A foggy morning made for beautifully moody scenes at Hinckley Lake. The first scene of many that caught my eye was of two empty picnic tables resting amongst autumn leaves on the shore overlooking the lake. I strolled along the path gathering images as I went: ghostly lines of trees seen through the mists; lovely groves of trees with soft light infused from above. Though engrossed in the lovely views of muted color and shadowy trees along the shore, a spot of color trailside caught my eye: Two clumps of fungi were growing at the base of an oak, both dripping with heavy dew. Slimy, perhaps, but their glistening beauty kept my attention for some time. The morning’s quiet beauty made for a welcome respite.
It continues to be a stressful and tiring time. Our mothers are facing health issues. Our cat, Tasha, has reached a health crisis of her own — hyperthyroidism. There’s too much to do, and too little rest. Still, it’s possible to find a respite in nature. Wednesday morning, before heading off to work, I took a brief, solo photo hike along a portion of Chippewa Creek. Calm now after the spring’s torrents of rain, the stream flows gently over age-smoothed stone in a gorge carved deep into bedrock. The stream is canopied by the branches and leaves of old trees. Mosses and ferns grow in tiny trays of moist soil formed in the rockface. Despite the location, near a busy street and business center of town, the scene is calm and soothing to the soul. Just what I needed.
On the morning of Veteran’s Day we decided we could not stay indoors all day, effectively “wasting” a day off. The day promised to be steamy-hot and we were unprepared for that. So we took a little drive to Summit Metroparks’ Nature Realm preserve in Akron. One of our favorite places, the park features natural areas with marked earthen trails and formal gardens with paved walkways. Plants and animals are all around and offer many photo opportunities! This day I made 100 exposures and, though threw away some promising but ultimately disappointing shots, got some really good pictures. An iris blooming in a boggy wetland spot is my favorite of the bunch. After some time, and as the muggy air began to take its toll, we headed out to lunch and ultimately home. A pleasant time in nature’s realm.















