Back in March 2012, I was still doing a lot of hiking on the trails at Paris Mountain State Park. Most days I would park my car in one of the parking areas near Lake Placid, close to the front gate. The man-made lake is thirteen acres of pretty water surrounded by forest, with a dirt trail around the banks. I would walk down the hill past the picnic shelter and down to the lake. I’d look around a little, sit down on the wooden bench at the water’s edge, eat my breakfast if I stopped by Jack-In-The-Box, take a photo or two if I saw something interesting, then back up the hill and down toward the dam.
A few minutes later I would be at the other end of the lake, ready to head off into the woods, if that was my intended hike for the day. There are a lot of different trailheads at Paris Mountain, and so each day was a decision as to which one I might hike.
On this day, the plan was to just continue walking along the trails that extended past Lake Placid. It was a nice spring day. The trail follows alongside the creek that feeds the lake for a long way, and then splits off into the woods. I have to honestly say that, although I’ve hiked that portion of the trail a number of times, I cannot recall a lot of details.
I have very cloudy recollections of specifics. In my mind I can see little bits of trail, especially curves in the trail. I remember some parts of the trail were hard mud and some parts of the trail were soft dirt, with many seasons of dead leaves on either side. And I have a mental image of one spot where, off to the right and up the hill, the edge of the park gives way to some buildings, perhaps a house. I’m not sure.
In the early days of my hiking at Paris Mountain I took lots of photos of the trails themselves. I was trying to understand the concept of composition and trying to make the trails look interesting. That’s not easy to do, I learned. I’ve probably deleted a few thousand photographs that should’ve never been taken. It’s all part of the learning process.
If I remember correctly, the trail led up the mountainside and connected to another trail that’s quite a distance away. On that particular morning I was not up to such a long hike, and so at some point I turned around and headed back toward the lake. I think I made it to the place where I had a triggering episode about an ambush spot and what appeared to be a foxhole with a log across it. I’ve discussed that in another blog article and won’t repeat it here. But I think that’s where I decided to turn around and head back; might have been a subconscious thing.
On the way back, as the trail drew closer to the creek, I began to watch for waterfowl. The creek is shallow but around 10 feet wide in places. The water is usually clear, with clean sand at the bottom. The slow running water makes a comforting sound as it goes over rocks and logs that have fallen into the creek. It’s the kind of creek that you could probably stop anywhere and just sit there. And I certainly have done that a number of times.
About a quarter-mile from the lake I noticed a pair of mallards. I stopped and began watching them. They were quite cute. They spent most of their time swimming around near the weeds, occasionally poking their beaks down into the sandy bottom, looking for food. I took a few photos, but nothing jumped out at me as being interesting. I had plenty of photographs of mallards.
At some point, the female swam away from the male. He didn’t seem to notice, still busy looking for something under the shallow water. Then the female began washing herself, quite vigorously. At this point, I thought I might have an interesting photograph, so I aimed my camera in their direction. Just as I got them in focus, the male lifted his head out of the water and looked straight at me. Something about that seemed comical through the viewfinder.
I guess he heard the ruckus and turned to look at his mate. That was the funniest little scene. In a more perfect world, I would’ve captured those few seconds on video. It was as though he was surprised at what she was doing, although it’s a typical washing procedure that I’ve seen many times in the past. Still, it tickled me to see it, and I grabbed a shot of it while I had the chance. And that’s what you see in today’s photograph.
“Honey, what the heck are you doing over there?”