Sometimes, perhaps especially during the holiday season, it’s hard to fit a long, exploratory walk in among all the other activities. Then a quick trip to the harbors may produce some interesting observations.

I recently returned from a visit to the Midwestern locale where I grew up. There, the hills of home are very ancient mountains, now worn down to their stumps. Pink quartzite cliffs ring a deep, spring-fed lake where a major river once ran, before the last glacier changed its course. Moraines now stretch across both ends of the lake; this is where the last glacier terminated, thousands of years ago

Fall came early this year — the August rains seemed endless. I returned from a short hike almost as wet as I’ve even been (barring a swim or a nice hot shower). The creeks and rivers were “on a tear,” roaring along full of sediment, branches and logs. Flattened grasses showed where the water had recently been even higher.

On the way home, I stopped at the grocery store. When I checked out with my purchases, a young gal offered to carry out my bags.

“You don’t really want to go out in THAT!” I said.

She smiled.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a cottonwood branch twitching strangely. I looked up, expecting to see a bird. Instead, there was a red squirrel, bouncing out along the branch, stopping every so often. When it stopped, pieces of leaf fluttered down to the ground. A squirrel eating cottonwood leaves? But why by would the creature pass most of them? I reached for my binoculars and zoomed in.