One of the hidden blessings of our move just a few blocks west in our town is how close we are to The Pond. While we have lived for the last 16 or so years on the edge of Vermilion Provincial Park and have enjoyed the trails immensely, the five minutes it takes to walk to The Pond from where we currently live has been a true serendipity. Even when Rick gets home from work tired, once we get out the door for our constitutional, we are never sorry when we get to The Pond.

We’ve always been Walkers but the lockdown last March definitely cemented that distinction. With everything closed, the great outdoors became our gymnasium. With extra people in the house, each one of us used the park as our personal retreat. For the sake of just exercise, walking anywhere will do, but I find that the spiritual and emotional benefits of beautiful scenery definitely amplify the physical.

Walking the pond in the fall and winter is quieter – although we do see a lot of action from the muskrats. AND THE CRAZY BEAVERS.

But in the spring, it’s like Nature cannot contain herself. The leaves erupt from the trees like a time-elapsed video. And the beavers get chased away, it seems, by the influx of ducks and blackbirds. And maybe people – because we’re not the only ones who appreciate the finer points of The Pond.

I missed the crocuses this year, but yesterday I saw my first buffalo bean at The Pond!

And there’s always a lot of unreasonably paranoid gopher citizens on patrol.

Last year, Rick and I witnessed the hilarious mating rituals of the Red-Winged Blackbirds as the males danced crazily along the path totally oblivious to us as we walked by. However, I learned that a little later in June, they’re not so oblivious anymore and I stay away from the pond for awhile to avoid the protective dive-bombing parents.

But the best part, in the early morning, is the orchestra of frogs and birds and critters. Sound on!