Babcock rocky trail

I had a little bit of time between trying to work my way through some overdue writing projects, and I wanted to check on the state of the local vernal pools to see if recent rains had begun to fill them, so I headed off to Babcock Ridge for a reconnoiter. The ponds were still dry, but the stream that runs through the lowest part of the Preserve had, in spots, the beginnings of above-the-surface water. That left the once-and-I-hope-future waterfall that tumbles down the cleft of the Ridge proper to note. It was still dry, and on this sunny and warming afternoon, there was no sign of wasps roused from winter sleep in the safety of the rock crevices. The semi-warm temperatures had not awakened any hibernating Black Rat Snakes and sent them into the trees in search of unwary songbirds. The only sound came from annoyed Chickadees and an occasional ground cricket, but other than that, the afternoon was deliciously quiet. If you listened carefully, very carefully, you could hear the murmurs of ancient boulders.