I forgot how hard it is to get here. There’s no access from I-44 west. I have to take the next exit and backtrack along the access road. It’s colder today, barely skimming 40. I’m wishing for my hat I left in the truck, but then keep taking off my gloves to write or take pictures.
The park incorporates a section of old Route 66 and is bounded by I-44 and the Meramec River. I wander a cracked and deserted ghost town road as the highway roars only yards way. Rounding the inner loop trail, it fades away in a chorus of birds
So many birds, so impossible to capture. Marshes line the trail, alive with calls and sudden burst of color. A brilliant cardinal in a thick green cedar, rests so quietly he looks like a ceramic Christmas tree ornament. I catch my breath and reach for my camera … and he’s gone before I can lift to my eye. Blue jays, robins, and so many I don’t even know, taunt me throughout the morning, pausing just long enough to be seen, before soaring off to the next hidden grove. Only the owl held just long enough to react to the click of my shutter.
Rambling ... 