Sunset over Weborg Marsh, Sept 25, 2008

I can drive the whole park and see nothing noteworthy, unusual, particularly special, odd or new (not counting the park’s inherent beauty, of course — and I’m not at all discounting that!), but get at least one treat, for sure, on a drive through Weborg Marsh. It is incredible, the power of that one little spot to deliver.

In however many years I’ve been frequenting the park, I cannot think of the last time Weborg Marsh let me down. I’ve seen everything you can imagine… Bald Eagle, Osprey, Red-Tailed Hawk, this year’s very first … Killdeers and Red-Winged Blackbirds, Tree Sparrows, spring’s most amourous Canada Geese,

Sandhill Cranes at Weborg Marsh

whole families of ducks (with fluffy little ducklings in tow), teeny-tiny baby Killdeers,  a late-season family of 3 Sandhill Cranes quietly feeding in the grasses, a Spotted Sandpiper, Red Breasted and Common Mergansers, Buffleheads, Goldeneyes, and migratory Lesser Scaups….. migratory Tanagers and warblers like-you-cannot-believe (really and truly amazing varieties in a single day!)……… rodents of every shape and color :) and flowers literally dripping and flowing from the trailside along Hemlock Trail.

One night in winter, it was the deafening silence and inky darkness, overwhelming my senses… there was a nearly-suffocating, and isolating, blanket of nothingness. Another morning it was a delicate, beautiful hoar frost which decorated and sparkled every grass, sedge, and cattail in the rising golden sun.

Sparkly Hoar Frost covering Weborg Marsh, Winter 2009

The raucous and cheery chatter of red-winged blackbirds can surely uplift anything :) seriously, they never stop. They are like Energizer Bunnies with feathers.

Tonight, however, was different. Tonight’s gift, in the dimming twilight, was the faint but unmistakable dark silhouette of a Great Blue Heron fishing in the shallows of Weborg Marsh. The season’s first Great Blue! Wahoo!! And of course, how fitting to see it there. The place that never disappoints.

I also was finally able to get to Svens Bluff, the very first visit since early December. Skyline Road was clear the whole way — no downed trees, and just a little ice and snow (far less than what we’ve been driving on all winter up here!) What a wonderful, beautiful moment! The sun had long-since set, and it was nearly dark of night. The distant lights of Marinette-Menominee glowed clearly across the still-ice-covered bay. Below me, though, the ice had cleared from Fish Creek to Chambers Island, so I watched the wind dance and roughly ruffle the cold, dark wintry water. Ahhhhhh, water. Svens Bluff!!!! A good day indeed.

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Autumn Forest at Nicolet Bay

Hard to believe I’m uttering the “w” word (winter) in October, especially since my brain is still stuck back somewhere between August and September. I have this total disconnect with the red, yellow and orange leaves outside my window. They are supposed to be green. Or so says my brain. ;)

My brain may be late for its own party, but the Coast Guard isn’t. I heard the Coast Guard cutter MOBILE BAY announce on the scanner this morning that they were “doing ATON in the Strawberry Islands” … which means they are likely pulling up my dearest, favoritest bell buoy off Peninsula Park.

Bell Buoy #6

I don’t know why I have such a love for this buoy. But I think of her as being my soulmate in the buoy world. She is always there, rain or shine, night or day. Her bell clangs with the rhythm of the waves, especially loud up on Svens Bluff and along Sunset Trail. At dusk her bright red light flashes, on and off, on and off, persistently piercing the darkness all night long, ’til dawn assumes command and takes over lighting duties.

The clouds are supposed to clear later today, and I will make a reluctant trek to the park to see if my dear buoy has been tugged from the water for her long winter’s sleep. I hope not! But if she has, I will at least have the memories of a few hikes on Sunset Trail during which time was marked by the irregular but constant clang of my buoy’s bell. ##