Swamp Walk in the Freezing Cold

I park my car near the intersection of Wells and Jefferson in Forest Park. The white crushed limestone path glows under the light of the C-shaped waning moon. It is still pre-dawn. The temperature hovers in the thirties. The Washington University Medical School Complex of buildings is like a line of black cliffs. Steam rises from the swamp ahead, mirrored by the steam issuing from the buildings on the Eastern horizon. The whole scene is so primordial, I expect to see a brontosaurus appear!

An Eastern grey squirrel clings to an overhead branch. His tail is draped like a cape over its back to keep it warm. What woke the squirrel even before sun-rise?

Straight ahead the male red-winged blackbirds cling to the exploded tops of the cattails. Bird song battles, worthy of "The Voice", erupt as the males out-warble each other, guarding their territories. Fat robins run like plovers along the edge of the bicycle path.

I follow a worn trail, made by short-cutting joggers, along the edge of the swamp. A Canada goose is gorging on succulent grass tips near the Jacques Lipschitz sculpture.

I pass two huge catalpa trees, probably dating from the 1904 World's Fair. The curving boardwalk has ice crystals on the railing. Half-way across it, I notice two cow birds harassing a male field sparrow. One of them darts into the grasses, scares a female field sparrow from its nest, and spears a naked hatch-ling with its beak. Both cow birds fly off with the frantic parents in hot pursuit. This Lindbergh-style kidnapping and murder leaves two hatch-lings in the nest.

As I continue North, I spot another Canada goose. This one is sitting on a nest. The nest is at the bow of an island, making it safe from predators.

Next up is a pair of wood ducks on a submerged branch and robins hopping around the ancient mulberry trees. The mulberry trees are in bloom. The robins are anticipating a bountiful harvest in about six weeks.

I cross the Victorian Foot Bridge (1885), its sides decorated by numerous orb weavers. The dew glistens on the webs like diamonds.

I re-join the double bike and walking paths and head West. The springs in the stream bubble up (across from the drinking fountain). They cause a huge eddy of counter clock-wise motion. Nearby, another Canada goose sits on its island nest.

I turn South on Grand Drive and cross the stream on the car bridge. Below a pair of coots or mud hens are diving. Empty mussel shells are piled up near the water. A muskrat swims under the bridge.

At Jefferson Drive, I walk East and trudge along the long hill back to the car. Acres of icy crystals frost the savanna. There are now a scattering of cars near mine. I turn on the engine and heater, letting the warm air blow across my wet sneakers.