Pink Water Lily at Black Mo, and a Turtle Rescue!

One of the absolute BEST things about retirement is that when you get up in the morning and it's a beautiful day, you can decide to go and have fun if you want to! So it was that we ended up going for a swim at Black Moshannon on this Monday morning. But that wasn't actually where we intended to go; we thought we were going to Bald Eagle State Park!

Last week was my husband's birthday week, and he wanted more than anything to go for a swim, but several of our local beaches were closed because big storms earlier in the week had wreaked havoc with the water quality tests; storm runoff can cause bacteria counts to be high, and then there's no swimming allowed. We had some lovely meals out in the birthday boy's honor, but no swim.

So Monday morning, we decided we were going swimming at Bald Eagle State Park. We got in my husband's car and headed for Skytop, and then old route 220, which is the way we usually get there. Alas, they were tarring and chipping 220, and it was a great big mess, with big machines and huge, swirling dust clouds straight out of a Mad Max movie!

In the spur of the moment, my husband said, did I want to go to Black Moshannon instead? I said, "Of course! ALL roads lead to Black Moshannon!" (And they pretty much all do; there are about six different back roads on that hill that all end up in the same place, if you know which turns to take!) And so we hopped onto Steel Hollow Road near Williams Cemetery, skipped the road construction, and made our way to Black Moshannon.

I have to tell you that the park was absolutely DELIGHTFUL on this morning. I walked around and took some photos - of the water lilies, which are plentiful this year, of dragonflies, of the colorful kayaks, of the storm cloud reflections on the waters.

Strong thunderstorms were expected in the afternoon into the evening, and though the sky kept looking threatening off and on, the weather was nice for our visit. (In the evening, though, the storms would take our power out for two hours, and we remarked to each other that we were SO glad that we had our flying squirrel episode the night before, when there was at least electric light to chase it around and capture it by.) When we swam, the water was cool and refreshing but not too cold, and there were lovely breezes to keep us comfy.

I was swimming along, remembering with some element of glee the silly flying squirrel rodeo from the night before, and I started laughing out loud. Laughing like a loon on the lake! My husband just looked at me: "This is as happy as I've seen you in a while," he said. And then I laughed some more (even though it is hard to swim and laugh at the same time; try it out yourself), remembering the cute little flying squirrel zipping all around the bedroom, and that first startled little scream my husband emitted when he first saw the creature.

"What do you think T. Tiger thought of the flying squirrel?" I asked; "It was just about his size!" And we laughed to think of T. Tiger and the flying squirrel going mano a mano on the stairs. (But T. Tiger is more of a lover than a fighter, just so you know; it is much more likely he'd have offered the flying squirrel some tea.)

We also noted that Dexter, our Tabbycat who is waiting for us now in the Next Place, would have loved to play with that flying squirrel. And in fact, the thing it did - walking into the bedroom and making its presence known to my husband - was a thing Dexter always did late at night when he was ready for bed.

"Maybe the flying squirrel knows we have an opening, and is applying for the position!" he said. "Yeah, and it and all of its friends will show up tonight, ready to watch the next episode of The Mentalist!" I added. And I laughed some more, accidentally choking on the water. But it was all good. (And by the way, my husband did re-caulk the spot on the chimney where it must have gotten in.)

So we had a grand time at Black Moshannon, and then we got in the car and came the same back way home. As we were driving, I saw a small form on our side of the road, walking like a turtle. It turned out that it WAS an actual turtle, and I made my husband stop the car so I could hop out and perform a turtle road rescue, hooray!

But as soon as the turtle saw me approach, it put it into high gear and took off like an Olympic athlete, going about 80 miles an hour. There I was, chasing the turtle down the road. "STOP AND BE RESCUED!" I cried. I took just the one photo which you may see in the extras (Eastern box turtle), then I nabbed that turtle (henceforth known as White Lightning), rescued its ancient reptilian self, and placed it about 10 feet off the road, in the direction in which it had been heading.

So this is the story of our Monday morning at Black Moshannon! The soundtrack song is this one, from the Lost Boys soundtrack, INXS, with Good Times.