On the way home he took me on a half-hour detour through the Rural Grove State Forest where we stopped at a spot where beavers had dammed the road, rendering it impassable. It was a marvelous place. Dragon flies of half a dozen sorts zig-zagged around us, red ones that darted like flaming arrows, huge olive-green and light blue ones that flew in perfectly straight lines like the Black Hawks that fly up the valley....Black and white ones....dozens of fragile damsel flies mating like crazy.
There were frogs galore, the shoreline sounded like a shooting gallery as bull frogs plummeted into the water ahead of us. A great blue heron lumbered away in slowly pulsating flight. Cedar waxwings, some kind of fly catcher...probably an Eastern Kingbird, whirling in circles high in the sky..the whistling wings of some rapidly departing mallards. Lots of tadpoles and something big that was swimming just under the water, shaking the heck out of the bushes and plants. Could have been a beaver, maybe a muskrat, or just possibly a really large fish. It was too far out to be sure.
***Click for collage detail
There were interesting plants and herbs. See the boneset and the swamp milk weed? Rushes are round and sedges have edges, or so Alan's college teacher used to tell him. We saw lots!
It was an interlude of wonder and delight that I won't soon forget....just a few miles from home, yet I didn't even know it was there. It would be fun someday to put the canoe in from the road and cruise out to see what we could see.