Wetlands

A stiff breeze greeted Baxter and I as we visited the wildlife that inhabit the wetlands this morning.  The sun played hide and seek behind clouds that were hastily gathering as if warning of bad weather ahead. 

Ducks and even a couple of swans glided effortlessly across the rippling pond surface, a testament to their grace.  Blue Jays, Robins and a few Red-Winged Blackbirds serenaded me with a cornucopia of vocals, replacing the night time symphony of bullfrogs.

Mr. Beaver kept a suspicious eye on Baxter, who seemed too enthralled in the vegetation to notice he was under surveillance.  A trio of turtles, however, decided simultaneously that any dog - even one confined to the pond banks - was too much of an intrusion, they slid off the log to disappear under the floating Lily pads.

Seriously fatigued, I was lulled to a euphoric state of mind by the gentle wetland sounds.  My bed beckoned earnestly to me, I could feel it’s call way down in my bones.  As much as I enjoyed our walk, I did not keep my bed waiting.