Road Trip Flashback 1: Florida Lakes and Harbours

Back in April, I did another road trip with sister-in-law, north from Florida. On the first day, after passing some typically Floridian signs, 

we found an idyllic place for a picnic. Funny how you can sometimes drive for miles without finding so much as a layby and sometimes you get lucky.

 This was called Lake Dias. Though these days lakes aren't called lakes any more but Fish Management Areas.

There were the usual warning signs about anything and everything.

And instructions for the fishermen. (Something about grandmothers and sucking eggs springs to mind)

 There were a few trucks and boat trailers in the car park and some romantic, trailing Spanish Moss, so typical of the southern states.

Then on to the town of Fernandina Beach, which had plenty of character.

From an old bar to an old bear...

 driving a car

Might be safer sticking to more traditional transport modes

 Early next morning at the harbour, another fishing idyll,

a pelican, tired of waiting for someone else's catch, took off spectacularly..

 

And flapped away across the water

 And we were off on the road again too.

To be continued....

The Lane and the Disappearing Deer

 If I hit just the right time in the morning to go for my workout up our steep lane, I might see some interesting sights. If I'm too late, I see our friendly neighbour walking his redoubtable dog but not much else. The best time is when the morning fog is just starting to lift.

The other day I reactivated my old camera, put it in my pocket and trudged to the top of the hill and down the other side. There, far ahead of me, were some characters crossing the road. It looked like a mother and baby - raccoons perhaps, too dark to be woodchucks. I reached for the camera, which got stuck in my pocket. When I finally wrenched it free, they were gone.
  Another day I woke up earlier and thought, "this is my chance". I was right - the white tail deer were everywhere, charging through the undergrowth, trotting across the road

But always just a bit too far away.

One was just about to burst out of the bushes when a pickup truck went past and it scarpered. Maybe I'll have better luck another day.  Meanwhile, passing another neighbour's house, I realised I was being watched.

What do you want with those silly deer when you've got me?

Happy Fourth of July!

To all my American friends amd greetings from the wildflower/weed garden

 Which is starting to look pretty nice

I suppose I could call it the Freedom Garden

Goose-stepping

 A couple of weeks ago at Buffalo Marina, a family of geese were crossing the car park. Puzzlingly, they all seemed to be different ages.   And where were they heading?

 Ah - they were going to school.

A Brexit-Free Zone

...Or at least I thought it was going to be. The American media have given it wall-to-wall coverage. And I thought they were bad enough with the Royal Babies. I have taken to hiding, as I don't think I can stand anyone else bouncing up to me and shrieking,  "What do you think?"  Of course, around here in rural western New York, the perspective is a little different from Wall Street's.  Many of my neighbours have long dreamed of seceding from New York state and the clutches of Albany and the Big Apple, which they don't feel represent their interests one jot. So they're seeing it as a David vs Goliath thing, the triumph of the little guy and are very excited. I was congratulated at the birth of the Royal Babies and now I'm being congratulated over Brexit. I got one of those chain emails originating with a woman who claimed she was so thrilled that she's now flying the Union Jack. Which is quite something from an American.

Comfort Paws

I got off a plane at Buffalo Airport yesterday and did a double-take. Here was a push chair but it didn't have a baby in it but someone else. And a sign. I'm a sucker for reading signs.

And in case you can't read it, here's what it said: "My name is Little Dude. Please ask my mommy if you would like to pet me!"  The nice girl with him was from a charity - she said she wanted to help stressed-out people getting off planes. And stroking sweet Little Dude might help them get their equilibrium back. Well it certainly beats massage chairs and all the other things they're dreaming up to compensate for queues, crowds, delays and the Curse of the Ziplock Bag.

Summer Comes to the Lane

A few days of near-perfect weather and along with the Dame's Rocket extravaganza (see below), we have fringes of blue forget-me-not-type flora bordering the road 

and the stream that runs under it. 

Early mornings, before the lawnmowers start up (and in between pickup trucks thundering up and down, always in a hurry) are blissful, the sun dappling the leaves. Just varied birdsong and the kissing-sound of chipmunks raising the alarm. It is, apparently, a bumper good year for chipmunks. The bleeding heart is actually in the black garden but it's looking good.  

 I could swear I saw some of these yellow iris-type flowers on Wimbledon Common.

 The call this Queen Anne's Lace around here.

 And it's back to the fog lying prettily in the valley.

 Now who's this, waddling by the side of the road?

 A concerned couple stopped their car and we had a discussion. It is definitely not, as you might think in Britain, someone's pet tortoise. It is, the lady assured me, a snapping turtle, who had chosen probably the most stupid spot in the county to lay her eggs. The next day she was gone. I hope she thought better of it.  I didn't mention that, a couple of years ago. I came to the rescue of a small turtle crossing the road and plonked it in the stream behind our house. I did put on my thick gardening gloves. This was probably an entirely wrong-headed thing to do but I'm just an ignorant foreigner - and a townie at that.