Karen and Dylan weren’t able to join me on Monday for our walk. Instead I hiked the Quicksilver trail on my own in search of wildflowers. I hoofed it up the hill and got my heart rate going, but I also enjoyed the opportunity to stop several times along the way.
The hills, parched and dry, are a worrying site this early in the year. Most of the grass along the trail’s edge is golden brown instead of green.
Here and there, though I spotted tiny dots of color. It stands to reason that wildflowers native to our region are able to withstand the drought.
Here’s a sample:
I also passed several happy pooches enjoying the trail. A few of them stopped for a photo-op, but they were more interested in walking and playing.
Birds flew in and out of the dry brush, camouflaging well among the branches.
Half way down the hill, I heard a cacophony of birds in one tree, clearly distressed. Here’s a sample:
I strained to see what I assumed was a predator, moving the lens of my camera back and forth. In the split second it took to adjust my eyes, I spotted the hawk. Just as quickly it flew away, a jay hot on its tail. My reflexes just weren’t fast enough.
On the other hand, I’m pretty sure I spotted a Who from the beloved book Horton Hears a Who! That, my friend, made my day.