Phoebe & me: mostly unfazed

I walked out the front door this morning, said a polite Good morning to the phoebe sitting on the nest under the eaves, and got in my car and drove away. The phoebe didn't even flinch, so maybe we will be able to coexist. We'll see what happens next week when the power people arrive to replace poles and cut down trees.

Meanwhile, I'm back in Jackson, driving here under ominous clouds and with the threat of rain all weekend. It's been three weeks since my last visit to Lake Katharine, so I decided to make a quick stop there for a hike before the storm hit--but I didn't have my hiking shoes with me, so I took the shorter, less steep trail, on the theory that I'd be less likely to fall and cripple myself.

The good news is that those mystery buds I found so fascinating three weeks ago turn out to belong to the umbrella magnolia trees now beautifully in bloom; the bad news is that I can find a way to fall anywhere, so down I slid into the exposed root ball of a fallen tree, ouch. I didn't break anything but I'll be sore in the morning, and I emerged from the woods with my right side covered in dirt.

Since I started visiting Lake Katharine last summer, I keep having variations on the same conversation:

You shouldn't be hiking out there alone! What about the wild animals?  
(Until mosquito season, I'm not too worried--the wild animals in those woods are more afraid of me than I am of them.)  

What about strange people? 
(Strange people are everywhere. Open your eyes.)  

What if you fall? 

(I'll get back up again, unless I can't, in which case I can't imagine a more pleasant place to merge with the earth.)

So today I tested that third question and it turns out that it wasn't quite my time to merge with the earth, although if anyone had been watching I might have wanted to sink down into the mud in sheer embarrassment. It got back up, dusted myself off, and kept walking, mostly unfazed. (The magnolias helped.)

Umbrella magnolias blooming along the Calico Bush trail.

The branches reach far overhead.

Only a few mayapple blossoms remain.

What the heck is this? I found a cluster of them near the Calico Bush trail.

Three-quarters of the way around the trail, a tree fell in the path. Climb over or turn around? I climbed over. Not fun.

Walked down to the lake and up to the waterfall, a great place to sit and think.