I’d have called this post A Walk in the Woods, but that title was already used. And, unlike the Appalachian Trail which is said book’s subject and locale, my walk was in a place where even I could not get lost. Chapman Mills Conservation Area is a narrow, river-side park, complete with boardwalk to indicate the path. Moreover, although there are certainly trees, the place leans more to bog than to woods.
It consists mainly of natural river shoreline, wetlands and flood plain areas that are unique in the City of Ottawa. Come enjoy the… scenic lookouts along the trail, walkways and boardwalks that lead pedestrians on a 1.5 km stroll through some sensitive and beautiful habitats, and read the interpretive signs telling the environmental story at points along the path.
– Rideau Valley Conservation Authority website
Since most of you don’t live in Ottawa, come enjoy Chapman Mills Conservation Area with me. On your behalf, albeit not at your behest, on the weekend I completed the so-called 1.5 km stroll: That’s 1.5 km Each Way, just to be clear. As before, I saw a few dragonflies but this time was unable to get any photos. It being autumn, their fancy has lightly turned to thoughts of love. Well, to acts of reproduction, at least. This seems to require constant frenetic motion: something about the aerobatics needed to keep two conjoined dragonflies airborne, perhaps.
But there were other things to photograph. Like a turtle happily posing for a shot, inviting me to overlook the general scumminess of the water.
Like a bullfrog below a footbridge and seemingly oblivious to me and to the general scumminess of the water.
Like altogether unscummy New England asters, providing a last splash of flower power before the frost.
And like hard-working bees on New England asters. No rest for the Apis.
Lovely colours! Esp. in the frog photo. 😀
Barbara – Awful, isn’t it? I mean, I was pleased to see the frog, but it’s pretty scummy.
I can imagine the turtle saying, “Help! You expect me to dive into that and burrow past the sludge to hibernate?” Perhaps the bullfrog is searching for bigger lily pads so he can surface and catch some rays. The fun fact that most of the bees we hear here are buzzing with an Italian accent will lighten those winter days when I spread honey on my toast. Bellissimo!
Laurna – 🙂 We watched a documentary this week that mentioned how much honey one honey bee makes in its lifetime. I remembered it as 2/3 tsp, which seems outrageously low. But the links I find online say it’s only 1/12 tsp. I will never look at a jar of honey quite the same way again – Italian accented or no.
I am both amazed and chastened. Thank you, again, for the insights!
Laurna – IKR? I feel guilty, too, taking all that effort for granted.