We haven’t stopped at Seney’s Boot Hill in years, so we did today. It was buffed up perhaps fifteen years ago, but nothing since, so it’s entering another genteel decline. Strange plastic items survive better than most of the wood.
We went on to the refuge, and it’s mushroom season…mushrooms and swans. And the usual marsh critters and plants.
Parent trumpeter swan in front of perhaps three-quarter grown swan/cygnet—when do the youths become swans?
I’m speculating: giant aphids?
Not sure what nibbled this mushroom down to the gills—I know turtles like them….
Speaking of turtles…painted turtle?