If I’ve sounded stressed the last few weeks, it’s only because I have been. I really, really needed a good day off… and today I had one.
We did a weekend rent-a-car thing, as we have taken to doing every now and again, and after yesterday’s dutiful errand-running, today we drove up to Horicon Marsh. It was a perfect driving day: clear and bright and not too much traffic even on the Beltline.
We arrived at Blue Heron Landing in time for a leisurely al fresco lunch before the afternoon pontoon-boat tour. A small flock of egrets flew by across the road from us, and the first great blue heron of many sailed past over the river. “Marc” presided over the boat tour with aplomb, pointing out cormorants, a bunch more herons, painted turtles, some just-hatched goslings, and a showoffy yellow warbler. The wind kicked up a bit, but in the sunny stern of the boat, it wasn’t bad at all.
After the boat pulled up at the landing, we drove to the north end of the marsh to go for a walk. It’s still very early spring here; the trees are just budding, and the cattails are still winter-dry and rattly. The frogs are in full chorus over the deep-green grass, though, and the trails are rain-springy and moss-covered.
At length we reached the boardwalks into the marsh. Two pairs of blue-winged teal dabbled placidly among the coots and Canada geese. David gleefully watched a pair of muskrats grooming each other atop their lodge. A goose guarded her nest atop another lodge, while rough-winged and barn swallows swooped and chattered and chased each other about.
We took a return path that led us through a couple of copses, in which we saw palm and myrtle warblers as well as pretty white lilies and asters. Something chattered at us while we were taking a break on a fallen log, but we never did see what it was. We went on over dragonfly-dappled meadows, and at an overlook where our binoculars barely made out some redhead ducks, a sandhill crane floated past, serenely alone.
As we ambled down the last gentle slope before the parking lot, a beautiful lilt of song made me stop and look. If there’s anything made of purer happy than a meadowlark singing, I don’t know what it is.
We took a circuitous route back into Madison, because I wanted to try Monty’s Blue Plate Diner and I wasn’t sure where on Atwood it was. Found it, though, and had a ginormous and very tasty meal.
There should be more days like this. Just perfect.
