Lucy and I biked around Lake Hollingsworth yesterday. Joanne was walking, and Alex flew ahead of us, pedaling furiously. There is a beautifully maintained biking and walking trail around the lake, in many places shaded by enormous oaks.
It is a popular trail. You see lots of runners, mothers pushing strollers, and dog walkers. However everyone seems to politely follow the rules of the road and large stretches of the trail’s three miles are deserted.
The lake is shallow and marshy along its edges which allows for a huge population of dabbling and wading birds. Where the trail hugged the shore Lucy and I called them out to each other. Ducks, swans, gulls, herons, ibises, egrets, gallinules, coots… As DH always teases us when we labor with exact identification: “Lots of tweety birds.”
We stopped at one point to explore a boardwalk over the water. The sun was warm and pond lilies were blooming. Lucy said thoughtfully, “If I were a bird, I’d like to live here.”
“I was just thinking that,” I agreed. “It reminds me of the Boston Public Garden in Make Way for Ducklings.”
(My mother read this classic picture book to me and my little sister, and I read it to both my children.)
As if on cue, a mother mallard swam out from under the boardwalk, followed by her seventeen ducklings. From their size I would guess they had hatched that morning or the day before.
Lucy and I grinned from ear to ear. Thanks, God.