She has a pretty good eye, but I think with the easy access to digital cameras and the ability to just shoot hundreds of pictures at a time trains these kids earlier. My current camera can hold about 5000 pictures. I would have loved to have that ability when I was her age instead of saving enough money for a roll of film, then saving up more money so you can have it developed. I think her camera can hold 1100 pictures and I think she takes advantage of that.
Started off on Saturday at Hoover Forest Preserve. I wanted to do a little research for a future Death March.
Instead of turning left, we turned right. We then heard branches snapping and turned to watch a big tree limb smash down onto the path we chose not to go down. We probably would have been directly under it. That was a bit creepy.
Where this enters the Fox is where the Death March will begin.
She's so damn picky about pictures of her. I told her if she deletes any more from the camera, she's banned from using it. You never know how it really looks till you see it big.
The starting point of the Death March. Probably a little further up stream. This is actually a waterfowl hunting spot. You can see the yellow IDNR sign. Once upon a time this island was a bit bigger. It's just a matter of time before it gets wiped out. I've seen that happen before. The stretch of river from here down looks pretty darn good and is split by a big island. Could take two trips to effectively work the whole thing.
Stand here, no, stand here, no move over two feet. You're annoying.
She always finds something that the trees are trying to swallow up.
On Sunday we wound up exploring a hunting preserve and a retreat. Since even on the preserves the hunting season is over, the pheasants that had filled the pens just a few weeks earlier were gone. Now we were seeing them run on the road and through the woods and fields. One rooster was so intent on showing off for a hen that it slowly sauntered across the road and stopped directly in front of the car. I haven't had pheasant in a few years so it took a lot of self control to not hit it and take it home for dinner.
The area we went wandering in was much more heavily wooded than Hoover and it's terrain was much steeper. I'm sure we were on private property, but it was all owned and set aside as a retreat. We stopped to talk to a few people about it and they were helpful in telling us all about the retreat. Even though we were obviously parked on the side of the road, the most any one does around here is wave as they go by. I guess a middle aged guy wandering around with his daughter doesn't come across as much of a threat.
Here too is a small creek. I know further up it's dammed to create a lake. More research is definitely required.
As we wandered through what looked like tall grass she commented on how it looked like chives. She's picked up my habit of picking and chewing on chives just for the hell of it. She picked a piece and began sniffing it like a hound dog. Smelled like onions she said. I picked a piece and started chewing on it.
"Do you always just stick things in your mouth?"
I told her two things can happen, it tastes like crap and I spit it out or it makes me puke. No big deal either way. Then there's always the chance that it tastes pretty good. Like this did. Not sure if it was onion or garlic, but we wandered around chewing on them the whole time. Wasn't till we got home that we thought of stuffing our pockets full of them to use at home.
I like making my kids do things like this. Keeps them connected to something other than electronics. They need to know both.
Otherwise just one of those stunning sky blue sky days that makes all colors intense.
"You're not going to bite into that?"
"I have my limits, smartass."
We then wandered off exploring roads I haven't gone down in a couple of years. I don't recall this old limestone barn being in this condition the last time I saw it. I remember less of a sag in the front and their actually being 4 walls. We thought of getting closer to get better pictures. Then we thought better of it as we took a closer look.
We wandered around an old mill town along the Fox. I was telling her what little I knew about it and just driving up and down the streets looking for signs of how the town may have looked 50 or more years ago. An old guy was wandering down the street and she wondered what it would have been like to grow up here your whole life. How much things had changed. To drive the point home, just about then an old restored Model-T puttered by. Wow, that was creepy. Nothing like proving a point, was what I think she said.
I told her we would find something left from the past. We just had to go near the obligatory railroad tracks that run through town and look for the town bar. It will be in the oldest building in the town. Sure enough, we came across an old stately brick building that had been turned into the town bar. As we drove by she said, dad, look above the door.
In some suburbs it seems that banks are going up on every other street corner. Some with names I've never heard of. Now we know how they'll turn out some day. More likely converted to a seven-eleven.