Webs, Wildlife and Wonder

Wednesday, August 2, 825 am 78 degrees

destinaton, chickens, Fair Oaks Village, Fair Oaks Bridge, morning
Morning stroll in Fair Oaks Village

Walking from the Fair Oaks Clubhouse, I hear chickens call their good morning song. Met a photographer on my way to Fair Oaks Bridge taking photos of bunnies hiding under bushes. We think someone left them here to live in the wild, instead of a home.

Two ducks swim in the American River to the boat launch ramp. A group of a dozen young women out for a morning run. A lone boater casts his line. Walkers stroll by. The water under the bridge is so clear, I can see the stones lining the river bottom.

As soon as I arrive at the bridge, a cyclist begins chatting on his phone with a friend about politics. Speaking loudly, pacing back and forth, I begin my daily observations and try to ignore him. Other people walk on the bridge and cross without stopping to look at the view. They remain engaged in conversation. Occasionally I point out intricate spider webs to people who say, “Good morning.” A group of three women walk past me and admire my colorful socks.

For many people the bridge is a road to cross over on the way somewhere else. Fair Oaks Bridge is my destination and that is an entirely different morning experience than exercise.

spider webs, destinaton, Fair Oaks Bridge, Fair Oaks Village, water
Here is the spider who wove the web, holding on by a thin thread.
spider, spider web, Fair Oaks Bridge, American River, water, morning, write, nature
A huge spider web stretches a foot from end to end.

I see a spider web that stretches more than a foot across, extending from rail to rail. It is HUGE!

As I walk down to the boat ramp, I watch a caterpillar crossing the road slowly twisting back and forth, sensing its next step with roving antennae and moving forward. It crawls over obstacles, pebbles, stones and leaves. The caterpillar keeps moving until it disappears into a patch of green grass.

The sun behind my back feels hot. A gentle breeze refreshes me. Last night clouds scattered across the sky created a golden sunset. This morning the clouds are gone.

An injured leg keeps this duck limping

Two men at the boat launch ramp are throwing seeds to a gathering of dozen ducks. The white one follows the others. One duck limps. Whenever it places weight on his leg to walk, the leg bends and the duck falls. After several failed attempts to walk, the duck limps back into the water.

A dozen pigeons fly in for breakfast too. As is their custom, in a sudden flutter of wings, they rise and fly away. Ducks are still looking for more food. I have none to share. Ducks continue to search and scoop every seed fallen deep into the ridges of the boat ramp. One by one they waddle down the ramp and into the water, returning minutes later for another round of searching and eating.