Young and Strong

We saw a young dad out bike riding with his two little girls on our walk around Burke Lake today. The first time we passed them, they were taking a little break. Oldest daughter rested her five-year-old self on a convenient bench, unicorn bike helmet just slightly askew. The little one happily waited in the seat on the back of her dad's bike.

We were giving the dogs some water and checking the identity of a bird when they passed us a little while later. The oldest daughter literally fell off her bike when she saw us, but only because she was going so.very.slow.ly. "C'mon," her dad encouraged her, and although she was clearly flagging, they pushed on.

It wasn't too long after we got back on the trail that we passed them again, and this time something big was happening. The unicorn helmet was off and dad was tying the little bike to the back of his own. As usual, the toddler sat placidly while her older sister talked herself through this unfortunate turn of events. "How can this be a loop?" she wondered. "It's too far!" She sat down and held her head as her father worked on.

"I am looking forward to seeing you guys ride past us!" I exclaimed as we walked by. "That is going to be good!"

The young father nodded confidently. "See you then!" he said cheerfully.

It was a good while later as we strode across the dam that had been built to create this man-made lake, swallows swooping all around us in the fresh breeze that seemed to blow just outside the wooded path, that I worried out loud. "I wonder what happened to those guys?"

"Maybe they went the other way?" Heidi suggested, and for a few minutes, I guessed she must have been right until we turned at a sound behind us. It was an amazing site to behold. The little bike was tied to the seat; the unicorn helmet was lashed securely to it; the littlest girl was in that seat, and her sister was perched on the handle bars with the wind in her hair and a huge smile on her face.

"Yay!" I cheered. "I was just worrying about you guys!"

"Thanks!" said Dad. "She is loving this ride!" He shrugged as he pedaled by. "Her mother is not going to be too happy though." And then they were gone.

Please Sign In

Can anyone out there guess who our mystery guest blogger is? (no blindfolds necessary)

There's nothing like a great walk with two dogs happily trotting along with you. Especially when everyone comments about how cute they are and how well they heel and ignore other dogs and squirrels. Me and my favorite dogs are having a super spring break so far. Lots of 4 mile hikes, a few runs and walks in between, maybe even some swimming tomorrow.

The best is when I wake up in the morning and two dogs are staring at me, just waiting for me to tell them what is in store for them today. They have already had their breakfast and are ready for some morning cuddling as we discuss what to do. There's a lot of groaning, yawning and sleepy Snuffleupagus noises as we get ourselves ramped up for the day. What could be better than that?!?

Tonight we're going to play "spa time" and everyone will get their ears cleaned, their coats and tails  brushed out, and something really good smelling sprayed on. To be followed with many treats and tricks of course. We might even play "dress up" and put different hats and scarves on. I can't wait!!!

Daughter of Adam

Today as we walked along the trail running the ridge of some unnamed stream that flows to the Occoquan, my eye was drawn to each small island of green poking up through the brown leaf-litter. Holly, wild ginger, rattle snake plantain, bluet, those I recognized. I listened for the birds calling in the trees, too: robin, pileated woodpecker, common flicker, chickadee, cardinal, tufted titmouse; I heard them.

There's something about being outside that makes me want to name what I see, but that has not always been the case. It wasn't until I was 18 or so and spending time with my aunt, who in her kitchen had a picture window and a bird feeder outside it, that I even thought about all the different birds there were. On the table by that window, my aunt kept an Audubon guide and a pair of binoculars, and by the end of the week, I was kind of hooked.

I still had no interest in plants, though. When naturalist friends would point them out to me, I usually dismissed the identification with a joke. Interrupted fern? They should have called it, "fernus interruptus." Bwa ha ha, right?

I'm not sure when that changed. Maybe when I started hiking with people who knew less than I had learned by poking fun at my botanist friends. All of a sudden? I was the expert, and I realized that I liked knowing what was what, even if I had to find out for myself.

Spring Ephemeral

"Why do we go to a nature center to learn about energy?" the ranger asked the congregation of sixth grade students. And the answer was that energy is everywhere, and nature both uses it and conserves it well. Case in point? Our guide showed us an example of the Virginia Bluebell. This plant is visible for no more than 4-6 weeks in the early spring. It grows and blooms in the sunshine that is only available because the trees have not yet leafed out, then dies back to its roots to wait for the earth to complete another trip around the sun. It is a spring ephemeral.

Years ago I drove from Houston to Austin at this time of year. Courtesy of the Texas Highway Department and Lady Bird Johnson, the hills were literally covered in Blue Bonnets, the showy lupine native to that part of the country. Fiery orange blooms of Indian Paintbrush were scattered across the blanket of blue blossoms, and it was hard to breathe, much less drive, in the presence of such an exhibition. I have never forgotten it.

Today I witnessed the local equivalent of that grand display. As we walked the trail along Bull Run,Virginia Bluebells carpeted the forest floor, rolling blue and spring green as far as I could see, their dainty lavender bells bowed away from the very sun they sought.  I have to admit that I appreciated the beauty of their presence much more knowing as I did that theirs was a limited engagement.

But then, whose isn't?

Two-fer

We like to hike and we like to eat. So naturally, over the years, we have visited many of the parks with nature trails in our area, as we have likewise visited most of the specialty food shops and grocery chains. Of the parks, we have a few favorites, but our choice often depends on the day of the week and the time of day (traffic), plus the season of the year and the weather (bugs).

When it comes to groceries, however, our favorite is always Wegmans. Unfortunately for us, the closest location is over 15 miles away, and with the traffic in this area consistently rated in the worst 5 in the country, we don't get there as often as we'd like, maybe every couple of months.

Today, with spring break spread out against the sky like a patient etherized upon a table, I did a bit of research to find some new trails, perhaps even a little farther from home than usual. Luck was on my side, and I found a nice regional park that combined nature, recreation, and history, but that's not all. The place was five minutes from a Wegmans!

Nice.

The Breaks

Today, the last day before spring break, we walked the entire sixth grade a mile up the road for a morning of ice skating and then lunch at the food court of our local mall. This annual trip is always a big crowd pleaser: it has just the right mix of independence and containment to work for adults and tweens alike. However, the skating is also somewhat perilous-- every year for the last six, there has been at least one significant injury, and today was no exception; unfortunately, a student fractured her ankle.

I believe that sleeping during the day is a waste of good sunlight and will only interfere with sleeping at night, and so for as long as I can remember, I have had a strict no napping policy for myself. I can count the times I've broken my rule on one hand, and usually there was a high fever involved. Today when I got home, though, I kicked off my own spring break with an hour snoozing on the couch.

I may just have to revise that old rule.

Efficiency

People frequently ask me if I get bored teaching the same lesson five times each day. My stock answer is that I try to make it student-centered enough so that even though we do basically the same activities to achieve the same objectives, the difference in individual students makes it different enough to be interesting.

On days when we have field trips, or other activities which I have not planned, and where my role is chaperone instead of instructor, I'm afraid the same can not be said. This week, I heard the same lecture on energy three times, and I confess that by the final rendition my interest was flagging and my patience was thin.

That was until we entered the raptor house. The students were all very engaged by the three birds they had there, and I knew why. They were fascinating to watch, and I could almost tune out the repetitious drone of the very knowledgeable docent as he explained (for me for the third time) how energy efficient they were. Almost... until I had to ask a student to come stand by me rather than pestering the kids around him. "I know why bird poop is white," he told me when he reached my side.

I nodded and tried to model what I wanted him to do by turning my attention toward the ranger.

"It's because..." the student began, but just then the park guy added something new to his presentation.

"Did you know that..."

"...birds pee and poop at the same time!" they finished together.

"My! That is efficient!" I admitted, but quite honestly, the birds were unimpressed.