Georgia on my…Magnus? Day 22

Wednesday, March 4

One of my favorite places to be--sitting at a picnic table beside a lake on a spring morning.  Coolish air blowing but the promise of warming up later. If only the summer birds were here!

After pancakes and my breaking the kitchen drawer slide, we went in search of the Natchez Trace Parkway and the Cypress Swamp walk. The drive down Natchez Trace Parkway was glorious with wide curves and huge trees lining the broad roadway. I'd love to do the whole thing, end to end, someday. Or walk it!

 

The Swamp Walk wasn't where Google said it was but not far off from that, either. People should have warned us that it wasn't a swamp but rather a former swamp, slowly filling itself in after the Pearl River diverted and left it behind.  It wasn’t very large nor very interesting. Oh, well.

 

Later, back at camp, Molly and I took a deliciously long walk along the something-or-other trail and then the Beaver Dam trail (named creatively—nowhere near any water) and then the little Persimmon trail. I heard something cool I never dreamed existed. A couple of Bald Eagles were circling overhead and talking to each other, in gentle tones. Kind of like a soft version of the Greater Yellowlegs call. Not something you'd expect from a big, fierce predator.

It was a great walk although it did take us close to the edge of the park and the back fields of some farm houses. I was worried that some territorial farm dogs might hear us. None did, and we finished the walk back at the lovely lake.

And so the sun went down on our last real day of camping this trip. (We have one more night but that's at a KOA--not a real campground. They try, but there's only so much nature they can provide and still cater to the 45' monstrosity motorhomes.)

But this is a very nice place. Geese honking like lost baby seals. Kingfisher having his final say. We will have a peaceful night.