Roaming in Wyoming

Oh we've been places...

travelling


by plane

and by car

across the prairies

into the high plains

and mountains

to spend some time with Dr. Hausfrau and family

in their native habitat.

We went exploring

the very old stuff

the more recent old stuff

and the just plain beautiful stuff.

Mountains and water and rocks and sky.

Endlessly changing, something new in every direction we looked.

Pictures are wonderful reminders

of some great excursions.

Everywhere we went, the environment was different and new.

We filled our eyes with views of broad vistas

and the closer views of plants new-to-us.

It seems as if I was constantly taking pictures

and there was constantly something worth another picture.

No wonder my father and grandfather talked about their trip out here

 for 70 years or so afterwards.

It's hard to pick a favorite scene - is it water?

Or rock?

Maybe a kid?

Maybe a moose?

Maybe the lingering light from sunset as we waited for the stars to come out?

Oh, my favorite scenes may be the ones

I didn't get pictures of...

Wetland Walking

A visit to the Bloomingtonauts invariably involves interesting walks.

 There is a near-by park

 where our knowledgeable guide

 introduces us to the disappearing Lake Jackson.

There are birds and frogs and turtles and alligators 

and the morning is full of songs and calls.

 Another morning we walk through a swamp

 where trees grow straight out of the water

 and from our elevated walkway we can spot sleeping bears...

and panthers and wolves and foxes,

 and even more exotic characters.

 When it rains, we find a wet walk inside

at the Gulf Specimen Marine Laboratory.

Here one can plunge a hand into a tank and touch weird life forms

although some are marked "Do Not Touch".

 The Bloomingtonauts have given us a view of a fantastically

different ecosystem from our Indiana home.

Somehow the spring turtles in the water retention pond at the retirement home 

aren't quite as exciting as they used to be.

It depends on whom you ask...

There are woolly bear caterpillars everywhere. Hoosier lore has it that they predict the winter weather with their furry coat.  I was looking for birds when I noticed the parking lot at Lake Griffy was full of caterpillars, so I consulted them for a prediction.

It seems that it could be a normal sort of winter...

or a really mild one...

We could have almost no snow or ice or freezes...

or it could be horrendously Arctic.

There, now we're prepared!  For anything!  Thank you, Caterpillars.

Secrets in the grass

Oh the grass is full of clover, wonderfully fragrant clover, just totally polka-dotted with clover.

 White spots everywhere!

Such a good place to hide, if you happen to also have spots.

Adventuring to Cedar Bluffs

Inspired by the adventurous Bloomingtonaut and her Florida hike along the bluffs by the Apalachicola river, we determined to explore our own Bluffs.

The site is Cedar Bluffs, preserved by the Nature Conservancy.

It's quite close - a 15 or 20 minute drive from home - but we had never been there before.

It was a cool early winter day with pale sunshine and a stiff breeze.

The signs warned us that the trail was "rugged".

 Trail?  Do you see a trail here?

 We clambered over rocks and slid through slippery wet leaves and dodged around fallen tree-trunks until we found a spot that looked as if someone had slid down the slope.

Was that the trail?

I crept up it until it became obvious that, no, it was not a trail.  It was a landslide.

And then I slid down.

My Game Hiking Companion was dismayed at the amount of mud I collected in the process.  (Told him we shouldn't have taken his brand new car with the cream colored interior) 

We regrouped and abandoned the creekside "trail".  Instead there was a handy power line not too far from the property boundary, and we hauled ourselves up the rough cut hillside.

There we did find a trail heading back into the Bluff. (Ha! We weren't the first to give up on the non-existent creek trail and discover this alternative route.)

From the top we looked back down the creek...

 and DOWN at the creek.

Okay, it's only 75 feet but it's a straight drop down those 75 feet.

Please don't go any closer to the edge, huh.

Unless you're a tree.

 The red cedar clung to the edges, defying gravity, slow growing, dark of needle and hairy of bark.

Want taller trees?  Look down.
 See the top of the sycamores growing down in the valley? Enormous trees.

It was too late to admire autumn leaves (as the Bloomingtonaut did, see above link), but we could admire moss and lichen and interesting rock formations.

 We did find the very very last bloom of the year tucked away in a crevice.

And we noted the rare ferns that are part of the unique plant community preserved here.

It was the wrong time of day and year to spot birds or wildlife...

but we did come across what is clearly the petrified head of a screaming ogre.

Clearly.

A satisfying adventure, I'd say.

Problem? What problem?

"What do you mean we have a problem?" asks the grouchy Groundhog.

 "Got plenty of vegetation here to put on fat for winter. 

And I'm putting it on.

 No problem there."

 " I found a perfect place for my winter quarters.  Well sheltered.  

Goes right into a nicely heated den."

"Problem?  I don't have a problem."

Being Predictable

I know I take the same pictures every year.

You can count on winter snows, spring flowers, mushrooms and Fall leaves showing up in my photo files every year.  Every year I am newly enchanted by these seasonal changes.

I say to myself, "Enough.  There are enough pictures of leaves.  Don't take any more."

But it is a compulsion.

I am too weak to resist it.

How can I not take a picture

when one day the leaves behind these guys are only touched with color (Sunday afternoon)

and the next day (Monday morning) they look like this?

See the same reddish leaves above the guys and in the lower right corner of the second picture?

Isn't that an incredible change?  

 The colors this year seem more complex than usual -

maybe a little more subtle in their variation

 and the sky seems bluer.

I should document that.

I keep taking pictures.

Someday I'll take the perfect one.

Then I'll stop.