Fresh Pond: The Real World by James H. Barton
[ Top ]
In Spring, I lead instructional bird trips at Fresh Pond. We start from Glacken Field on Huron Avenue and walk along the top of a 50-foot bank to the municipal golf course clubhouse. I've gotten to know some of the golfers who show up promptly at 6:00 a.m. when the course opens. Joe DiMaggio is frequently standing in front of the clubhouse door with his party. I call him Joe because he looks like Joe DiMaggio. Joe takes me aside to tell bad jokes.
As you pass the front door to the clubhouse, you may hear a
voice calling golfers to the first tee over a loudspeaker. That
will most likely be Bob, the Golf Pro. The clubhouse was built by the Works
Progress Administration during the Great Depression.
As you go down to bank to the perimeter road, you may see George mowing the grass. He is the head groundskeeper.
Shortly after the ninth green on your left you will see a sign telling you the golf course is private property (which it isn't) and telling you to keep off (which you should). If you don't keep off, you will meet Howie. He will run you off.
As you continue to your left, you're very likely to meet
Milo, a small black dog. I think he's a terrier. You'll know
he's Milo because he always does what he wants to do, not what
his owner wants, so she's always calling, "Milo!"
You may also meet Daisy, a small white dog running sidewise like a crab. Daisy will often have a stick in her mouth as long as the perimeter road is wide, with which she sometimes entangles the legs of her owner, a power walker, who then can be seen grabbing one end of the stick and flailing the air with Daisy in a vain effort to dislodge her.
Occasionally you may also encounter an older man,
sometimes accompanied by his wife, sometimes walking
by himself. He is the only person I know of who has ever been
awarded the Noble Prize twice.
They're all your neighbors.
So is a female Snapping Turtle you may encounter leaving
Black's Nook to lay her eggs on a day late in May.