The temp’s hit the high 30s! Good thing, because MP and I were beginning to go a little stir crazy waiting for spring to arrive.
Armed with ball and bunny, we followed the cries of a baby osprey (osprey or hawk — I should know by now, but still can never tell) to a large tree by the river. We watched as it hopped out of the nest, it’s screams demanding the attention of Mama Bird circling protectively overhead. (Wait. Something’s familiar here …) I’m afraid we probably made it a bit nervous. He wasn’t the only one. I kept expecting to be dive-bombed any moment.
Earlier, we watched a group of adult ospreys (or hawks) above an adjacent field, each zeroing in on the unlucky gopher that was to be dinner. This little guy was surely waiting for his meal. Really beautiful.
We continued down the road to the Big Happy Giant’s campfire site, always a source of fascination. (The “Big Happy” part is vital – without it, the fairy tale gets a little too scary.) See how the grass is flattened around the perimeter? That’s where he sleeps at night when he’s done roasting marshmallows — close to the fire, to keep warm. At daybreak, he makes his way back to the mountains before being seen.
After much dusty ball kicking, and a final visit to her ‘Thinking Rock’ (she came up with that one herself — that’s it below), it was time to hang up the boots and call it a day. Tired, hungry, and a leeetle crabby, clearly, it was dinner time.
Fortunately, something better than gophers.