Sweetish Fish

Sweetish Fish by Allison Huyett

   Swedish fish are one thing and Sweet-ish fish are something else. We create the sweet-ish ones in the studio this morning.

   Sounding like a politician today: a heron at every turn: one wades in the dawn’s early light and at the edge of the creek, near the footbridge on the picnic peninsula.

   One looks very content and contained on a rock at the red covered bridge. One with daddylonglegs in the water and stretched tall after the overpass – a tractor-trailer truck flies overhead. Sun at 7:15 lights the trees at the margins. One flies near the iron bridge.

   The spots are unoccupied by heron on the way back. A true fish tail!

French Creek: Halcyon Day

     Find sneakers in #4 locker at Y where they were left for overnight sleepover. Optimize late afternoon by walking around the lake at French Creek state park. A halcyon day. Sapphire sky, golden sunshine, days that live forever. Days that never return.

   One of charming features of the park is a small number of  board walks and rail-less wooden bridges over marsh and small-creek areas. When feet hit these, the sound and the feel of it echoes the distant seashore, places like Cape May or the lowcountry of South Carolina or the Outer Banks, where boardwalks are prevalent and human user friendly. Echoes of the summer day, the autumn respite.

   Great Blue Herons? None. Two sets of humans fishing, two by land and two by boat. Bright leisure, with a glitter of water to the eye and mellow atmosphere. It is like being touched by God, a day like this.

   Upon returning to the starting point, a little green heron flits up and out from the boggy upper end of the lake.

Designer Nerds

nice spot

Neurons happy: Heron on a dead bough: grandaddy of them all, fishing, waiting. View from the road.
Squirrel pops out of a barrel when I make a deposit of litter.
Sunlit scenery. Walk two miles to the eight marker and back, and find a piece of sycamore near the seven. Add the pick of the litter Wonka Nerds box top and voila, today’s rebus. Nerds + give – v = Designer.
Other than that, it’s quiet. Overheard “Research shows…” Something about running half an hour. Meanwhile work on solving world peace. Whose world? Look for the heron on the way back. Might be there. Man and a woman walk with energetic strides and converse in raucous, excited voices, matching in vigor, kind of like the herons make.
Fishing involves patience and timing. Plus location. Pick your spots.

Preserve and Protect

  

 

pathling 8.12.09 bitemyhorse.com

True date synchronicity: Ron has caught and released one sunny and two bass (12) by the time I get to walk. On the rampart of the bridge is a lovely pigeon, a thoroughbred. It wears a blue band.

   “Someone’s racing pigeon, ” says Ron.

   I capture the bird with digital technology. I discover I have lost many previous photos due to operator’s formatting error. This means the baby heron pictures are missing, a sickening thought. Some photos are saved on computer at home. Gone are the monkey pictures and a picture of a landscape painting propped up on the sidewalk in front of a house. Retrieval factor: some chance.

     No sense crying over spilt milk, but I find the loss bothersome. Several days ago I had been eyeing the Cash for Clunkers vehicles around the area, and suddenly the story broke.

   Laura runs by, wearing a tee-shirt that shouts from the back: SHARE THE ROAD with a bicycle image below. A man walks toward me with a sleeveless shirt reading SEX ON THE BEACH with a martini-style glass.

   It’s a three day, for green and wood, so if you ask the question What am I wearing? I wear a green shirt with the motto Preserve and Protect, Twin Falls State Park, West Virginia, with a raccoon (halfway between a bear and a dog, says an old encyclopaedia)  emblem. Photos uploaded today.

Colonial Ad

   Ticket stub, pick of the litter: Colonial AD 000822. Colonial ADULT. Colonial Theater ADULT ticket. Cherish is the word I use to describe.

   Adult ticket and baby heron. 8:14 this morning. First ever sighting of an immature bird. It stands in the grass. It stands about 18″ high. It stands still.

   Because it is a dark and rainy morning following a drenching night, the bird is wet and I have not brought the camera. Of course, when I am unprepared with the camera, this is the time it is most needed.  Back to the car. Here comes a person to jog. Signal intention: there is a young heron up ahead!

   The bird is Oscar if male and Grace if female. It’s a beautiful star and speckled like a hawk and steps with deft, light purpose. It plucks a big fat long worm from the wet grass, a small pond puddle. It waits. I snap. It fishes out another worm, I keep snapping. How does it find them? Another worm. This is why my friend Grumplestiltskin has recommended I take pictures. Productive snapping.

    “But you’re still not professional,”  he tells me. “And I’m a working adult.”

   Along the midsection of the towpath, spot a heron in the water and on the way back, a small snapping turtle attracts attention. We are always alone.

Patrick, Dave & trout

    At the Heritage Center, find Patrick name label on grass and chalk hopscotch on the asphalt walk. Patrick is the perfect name for the day; it matches the date.

  ”That’s a good way to remember!” taking a picture of the activity board.

 

 About to report only heron is the fake one at Signature Pools and Patios, knowing sometimes the herons are hidden from view and I’m looking elsewhere.

   Here is one on the little rapids at the half mile barn with flag. Zoom feature on Nikon intermingles feathers with green leaves.

   On the mill dam bridge, a fisherman hoists a small trout.

“It’s only got one eye!” says the fisherman to his friend. “Must have been born that way.”

   He prepares to release it and it ends up in the creek with a hook €€ and he tells me they are dissolving hooks and when I ask his name tells me Dave.

Creativity and Children Balance

  

Faster Faster

 

 In with the park ranger. Mango seed on balance beams. Fibrous and light yellow.  Heron: picture perfect morning. Takes off, glides over the mill bridge, fascinating fisherman with three scissors and me. Turtle trail. Found writing: I love —– 

   Pathlings aplenty. Capture INXS, now that Nikon released from camera hospital. Trail reports: Mating fish alert. Hawk spotting. Sunning snapping turtle. Result of bat count. Would you like date of the next one? Yes!

    Holiday recaps. To do list for today. Starbreaks: so many this week, now Steve McNair. A crime vents.  Overheard in Reading: “Faster! Faster!” from two black-clad runners. Bicyclist. Cloth of the man: Habitat for Humanity. [Homes. Recreation areas]. Green sticker w/7 and Chinese calligraphy. Tree. Fisherman still on bridge. Admire his layout without saying anything. Net, cart, ziplock sandwich, bait. Runners rehydrate in lot @ red car.

   Orange, white Pixie Stix piece.

Hi Jen

 

 

  Fish Crave It!™  the Eagle Claw trademark, an Avenir ™  disc, FIRE on a tee shirt and some blue willow clip art left over from grant application thumbnail proposals. Written in screenings in wide simple strokes: HI JEN. Three cars in the upper lot, all spread out.  A heron at either end, one by Plum creek, the other at the mill and both into hunched down hunting pose. Victor caught cold Saturday. Found an irregular leaf.  That’s how today sizes up.  If you look real close at the top it says CapuzziCE, whatever that means.

Tree Vectors

 

Tree Vectors

 

 

     The great unanswered trivia question today is where do yoopers live? 

   Pounding rain overnight clears the way and has showered down stringy things from the trees near the six marker, site of a suicide last century. I like the spattering of the tree things and, using an envelope, draw them with arrows to show the tips.  Tree vectors.

   First heron at 6:57, at the mill picnic bend and there is heron in each of the three miles I walk to the end without beholding any men. Two women and I greet each other in the first mile. New writing on the wall: (Heart) DONNIE + AMANDA in white on the red foundation of the covered bridge.

   Quiet time. Some bunnies. Baby bunnies. Some envy. How a female duck can sleep standing up with her beak tucked all the way around in the top of her wings.

   Notice of Water Safety Training June 14, sponsored by the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers. Laura running. Absence of gray kitty. Where is it? Heron squawk. No turtles today. Talk to the two ladies near the pipeline. Early is best. A color comics umbrella from the Reading Eagle. Where to buy footwear for walking. How to get along with the geese.

   A heron in the middle of the creek at midway of the way back. Two fly fishermen. Victor is here. He has no interest in fishing. I share with him that a former boyfriend said when he fished he liked to figure out the life cycle and what fly works at a certain time and in which spots. Victor said if they’re hungry, they’ll bite! (I do not tell him at artist group last night the word was FISH and we revealed our creations and exchanged ideas about techniques and materials. My catch of the day was a Sudoku rebus. It got thrown into a mix of photo collage, paper mache, paper collage, quilting, pen and ink and watercolor and gyotaku for a most satisfying art fest, good cheer and awesome chocolate fudgies.)

   Traffic picks up mildly with a runner or two; I pick up a Juicy Fruit wrapper. As I finish my walk,  a heron flies above the creek, headed upstream, a good omen for the day. Last find: a tiny round green inspection label with PASSED written on it. Come to think of it, a driver passed me with some degree of unpleasantness first thing this morning. Drive safely!

Acme Tackle

Acme Tackle

     Water cycle. What’s the big idea? Why is there a big fat ‘D’ in the center of the path at the 10 marker, where an access point inroad intersects?  Some horse hoofprints in the area, too. This is no bridle path. Pedestrian and cyling exclusively.

    Fifteen vehicles fill the upper parking lot, which is alot of cars. One has those oval stickers: for Assateague Island, Chincoteague, and ACK. Cardboard packaging for a metal spinner, from Acme Tackle. A Phoebe fish. A Vietnam Veteran license plate. Thank you for your service. Thank you.

   Spring peepers trill together at 9:11 a.m. (mating call) and there are a couple of discarded tires along the path, pulled out of the creek yesterday? Earth Day rescues, along with debris chunks.  Delicate apple blossoms and spring beauties. Purple shreds, grass or packaging. A runner who says to me “We finally got our warm weather!” A “Y” shaped twig with two bits of wood nestled next to it, that are scattered when I return past it.

   Is that an “I” next to the big D? Identity, ID? A big idea expressing the id?

   At twenty past seven this morning a heron flies above the houses and offices. It tilts and makes adjustments to the air. Herons are grace and awkwardness, elegance and stiffness, in a way that racehorses are a stunning combination of strength and fragility. When the bird is a quarter or a mile away and more, it still looks big as a plane.