Still not much traffic as I drove once again to the Bowmanville area.

I only know the word “gulch” from my boyhood days of rootin’ tootin’ cowboy films where towns might be called “Dead Man’s Gulch.” The dictionary tells me that a gulch is a narrow and steep-sided ravine marking the course of a fast stream.

I walked by several streams during my visit (2 degrees and cloudy) in this interesting area.

There is both lowland coniferous forest/swamp and upland deciduous forest here.

There were several definite signs of spring such as these developing buds:

I heard the muffled thumping sounds of a Ruffed Grouse and the loud drilling of a Hairy Woodpecker on a hollow branch. Both of these birds are advertising their strength and health in the hope of attracting a mate.

Other birds about were a Pileated Woodpecker, Robin, Blue Jay, Mourning Dove and several Chickadees.

Unlike yesterday there were some people on the trail, walking dogs or toddlers. We all said hello but kept the current requisite 2 metres apart.

Some Botany:

Though I do my best to avoid falling, a root on the trail caught my foot and down I went. No injuries but my camera would have suffered badly if I didn’t have this (now cracked) lens hood which took most of the blow.

NATURE POETRY

There comes the sound of childish feet
And childish laughter loud and sweet,
And little hands stretch eager palms
To beg the firelight’s golden alms.     – James Berry Bensel (1903–85)

Miles Hearn