Foggy, Frosty Fen Friend

mseddy

February 21

It was twenty-eight degrees and foggy when I drove to Ives Road Fen to meet Dave for our first hike of 2024, a few days before my sixtieth birthday.

The chill turned the fog to frost on the tree branches, flowers, and grasses. A foggy mist hung between the trees in the distance. The blue sky played host to majestic clouds and a bright sun that danced upon the land and the river, sparkling white.

The Fen was looking especially gorgeous, and I was feeling truly, deeply happy to be hiking there with Dave on another Sunday morning, a tradition that now spans three decades.

We followed deer trails down to the wide, sparkling River Raisin and marveled at the wonder of hiking in the woods and not hearing hunters' gunfire in the distance.

The river was high & wide, and we stopped to sit a few and appreciate Our River. Dave said, "I woke up thinking about the river this morning."

Later, as we sat on a fallen tree trunk on the ridge, high above the fen, we noticed the lovely contrast of color between the Red Osier Dogwood against the bright green of late winter grass in the marsh. I said that I find the terrain more interesting here than at our usual hiking spot, Ramsdell Nature Park, thanks to the river, the hills, Sandhill Cranes, and Great Blue Herons.

Dave agreed. Ives Road Fen has officially become one of Our Spots.

When we emerged from the woods at the far end of the preserve, we followed a deer trail across the "bowl" of lowland to a stunningly beautiful pond, complete with colorful rocks, visible under the ice, frosty plants growing from the icy pond, and several colors and types of ice. A pair of Sandhill Cranes squawked and lifted into the air from the far shore as we approached.

I tossed a couple of small rocks across the ice and said, "It's a lot easier to skip a rock on ice--and you can see where it ends up!"

"I can skip one all the way to the other side," Dave said.

Turns out that was a lie.

Over the next few minutes, I watched, cheered, and encouraged him as Dave attempted the challenge he'd set for himself. He launched small stones, boulders--even a branch--but nothing reached the other side. As we turned to leave the pretty pond, the rocks and branch lay upon the ice and mocked Dave's misplaced confidence.

Even so, the pond was the most gorgeous I've ever seen it! I took a selfie of Dave and I in the pond to commemorate our foggy, frosty adventure.

Too soon, it was time to go, and we walked toward our cars.

As we neared the parking lot, we noticed Bluebirds!!--perched in the trees above us. We stopped to watch and wonder at the first Bluebirds of Happiness of 2024.#