OK, it’s a turkey, not a swan, but this preening, fan-tailed creature is as close to a swan as I’ve seen at Radnor. I needed an appropriate photo to use to close my Radnor Reflections blog, and look what waggled and gobbled in! I’m still going to walk and wonder at Radnor Lake, and I will take photos, but they will show up in Three Dog Studio along with my other ramblings and photographic efforts. I have loved sharing my walks with the Deers at Radnor through this blog. Thanks to everyone who read and /or commented over the past two years. Please join me over at Three Dog Studio!
Tag Archives: Radnor Lake Nashville
It is rare to be able to photograph a view of the spillway when the thinning of vegetation in winter combines with a rain heavy enough to send water over the rim. Also, the poison ivy needs to be in winter retreat so you can step just a few feet off the trail for a better angle. I didn’t, however, say that I actually did that.
The fog was so thick on our walk today that you could not see the other side of the lake. Eerie, and beautiful.
It’s hard to find a flower at Radnor in December, but lichen are everywhere, and they can be as pretty as flowers
This strange phenomenon stopped us in our tracks today. When the temperature drops to around freezing, the stem of this plant, called Frostweed, exudes water that freezes into interesting shapes. In the summer, when there are some leaves and flowers present, I would recognize Frostweed as Tickweed. It has dozens of other common names because of its unique characteristics, but the scientific one that encompasses them all is Verbesina virginica. Whatever its called, I have a new appreciation for it.
It misted/rained this morning. Snow is expected to mix in through the afternoon. The lake is lovely in these conditions, if you can just get there over icy roads!
As mad as this red tail hawk looks, there is an equally frightened, and grateful, squirrel below it.
It rained buckets yesterday, and it was still misting as we walked. I once heard an old country Tennessean describe a light rain as a dry drizzle, and I’m sure that description fits the weather this morning. It was gray and still, when suddenly the peace was interrupted with a powerful thunk. A bit alarmed, I turned to see the squirrel shooting like a rocket into a hollow log. I couldn’t imagine how it might have made such a loud noise. It wasn’t the squirrel, however, but the hawk, sitting on the ground at the precise point where the squirrel had been. The hawk had a hard time accepting the fact that his breakfast had escaped, but finally flew off. I saw the red feathers in its tail this time. The squirrel will probably be in that log for a good long time. I know I would be!