Back on the Path

I’ve been absorbed with SSI dealings this week. Rather than go on about all of the fascinating minutia involved (you’re welcome) I thought I would instead share some lovely photos of the walk Sam and I went on last weekend.

As you may know. One of favorite places to go on walks is along the bike path that starts at the train yard. This path isn’t maintained during the winter so this was our first visit since last fall.

When we arrived, I was a little surprised to see so many cars - probably about seven or eight of them. Usually, there are only one or two and more often than not, Sam and I are the only ones there - which, along with the scenery (and Sam's company - obviously) is the biggest selling point, as far as I’m concerned. Thankfully, most of the people there seemed to be leaving.

Our walk was a little bit longer than usual - maybe due to the overlong winter, maybe due to the nice weather. Whatever the reason, we followed the path as far as it goes, looped around some side streets and then headed back to the car.

This jaunt included, not only crossing the Bridge of  Death, but it also included going as far as to pass by the lovely sewage treatment plant. The one or two times that we walked by this place in the past, not only was the view of the plant obscured by the summertime foliage, but apparently the winds had been blowing in a more fortunate direction. On this particular walk, neither was the case.

Anyway, onto the photos…

Here we are at the train yard, just before starting our walk. Off in the distance is a train getting ready to pull away. Between the train and ourselves (and out of view in this photo) is a pile of brand new railroad ties, each freshly marinated in a nice thick coating of creosote.

Anyone who knows Sam, knows that he’s sensitive to smells. It’s not unusual for Sam to start up with a barely concealed coughing fit when he’s within a half a mile of someone who looks like they might be thinking of lighting up a cigarette. As expected, the smell of the creosote was not to his liking.

Sam commented on the smell and I took this as my cue to give him a short and uninteresting explanation of what the creosote is used for - which, of course, mattered not at all to Sam. All that mattered was that it smelled.

So much for watching the trains. Time to go on the walk...

 Here we are, or rather, here’s Sam at the beginning of the path.
 

This is a photo taken of the farm fields at the south border of the path. Two years ago it was filled with strawberry plants as far as you could see. Last year, it was filled with pumpkins. This year? Who knows. Stay tuned!

This is a view from the Bridge of Death. It’s hard to get a sense of just how high the water is and how rapidly it’s flowing. Even though I'm not crazy about the high, rushing water, Sam and I briefly stood and watched as all of the debris of winter washed away below our feet - all of the broken branches, all of the dead leaves, all of the lost skiers from up north - all washing away downstream, just like nature intended.

Here’s a photo of Sam, taken after we crossed the bridge and right after we passed by the treatment plant. Guess which direction the wind was blowing? If you guessed in our direction, you guessed correctly!

And here we have a photo of Sam getting away from the springtime aroma of the sewage treatment plant, and heading back over the Bridge of Death, back to the train yard.

By the time we got back, all of the other cars had left and with the train long gone. It was especially quiet. I enjoy these long walks with Sam and he enjoys them too. At least, I like to think so.

I hope we come back again soon and when we do, I hope that the water below the bridge has started to recede and I hope that the wind is blowing in the other direction.