Walk pictures

I could say I was waiting to get some really good shots... but truth be told, my camera has an issue.  It does not like to download pictures with a fully recharged battery, so I waited until I'd wore enough of the charge off.

Here's one of the many mini-frogs we saw at the swamp back on the fifth.  Hard to get one to sit still when Scrappy's wading out to say hi.

First signs of life on the 8th.

Scrappy and his favorite puddle of muck in the woods.

In the deep woods Friday.

First flowers of the spring for us.

What, never saw a shoe tree before?

Scrappy meets Zoe and family.

At the ravine for a BabyBel break.

Oh, the pond, the windswept pond...

Turtle heaven at the swamp.

Now at this point I have to stop and tell a story.  When we started up the river bank towards the swamp, we were passed by a boy jogging, wearing a Flash tank top.   I considered the fun of taking that picture, but decided against.  As we approached the swamp, the Flash was approached by some guy in a car heading our way (towards the dead end at the IPFW foot bridge).  He asked something, but given what he ended up doing with the information, I can't guess what.  He proceeded past us as we busied ourselves with taking turtle pics (me) and wading in after frogs (Scrappy).  A few seconds later, I heard a low rumbling moan behind us, rhythmically going up and down.  Then, a jogger's voice:  "Is it stuck?"  I knew what I was going to see when I turned around, and still couldn't believe it:

That's right.  Instead of going on around the curve (where one can turn about on stone and concrete), he apparently panicked at the thought of driving off an imaginary cliff and tried to turn around-  in ground that was mere feet from a swamp, mere feet after passing water that was clear across the road, into land that was dotted at the point he tried it with the water filled tire tracks of those who went mudding with more appropriate vehicles before him.  Soon after the jogger passed us, along came the driver- nice suit, expensive sunglasses, assuredly muddy leather shoes, on his cell calling for help as he beat feet towards a more civilized place to wait.  If I were the a-hole I sometimes claimed to be, I would have asked the old Dr. Phil question:

But since I'm not, I politely waited until he was clear to take the picture.

Hey, Daffodils!!!!

Bobby, you got robins yet?