Monday, February 11, 2008

preston walking

The daily ritual of walking with my dog, Hayden.

We live on Maryland's Eastern Shore in a small town called Preston located in the heart of rural farm country. Hayden and I start our daily walk on the outskirts of town along old railroad tracks. A dry creek bed runs along the tracks for several miles and eventually drains into our destination, Hunting Creek. The Creek is part of the Chesapeake Bay watershed. It merges down stream with the Choptank River which flows into the Bay.

Overlooking the Creek from the railroad bridge we approach an old mill.

Linchester Mill is situated on the Creek. It was, until fairly recently when a storm caused the dam to break and empty the mill pond, the oldest continuously operating  (1681) free enterprise business in the U.S.

Just pass the mill are the (not quite world-class) rapids.

We backtrack down the rail tracks to a country road passing farms and densely wooded areas. Our trip passes several hedgerows of wild brush and trees- my favorite areas. We often see hawks and owls here, especially a few great horned owls.

We end up at Backlanding Road bridge crossing Hunting Creek. The Creek is much larger here. I call the road where the bridge is out Preston's Interstate Zero.

The woods, wetlands and creeks are full of wildlife in these parts. It's common to see geese, ducks, bald eagles, great blue herons, kingfishers and one of my favorites, a small intensely blue bird called an indigo bunting. Fox, deer, muskrat, river otter, groundhogs and even coyotes roam the area.

From the bridge looking east Hunting Creek meanders up stream.

On the other side of the bridge the Creek meanders west-southwest towards the Choptank.

As I mentioned, my favorite spots are the dense hedgerows with their traffic jams of vines and vegetation.

Our standing brothers, the trees present a mysterious presence. Here bold ones.

And tall ones.

The trees become animated characters complaining, maybe, that we humans don't respect them and the land the way we should.

Hayden is always ready for another trip. The ritual continues.


jmmb said...

I happened to come upon your blog page this evening and couldn't help but feel quite at home.
I lived in that quiet little of town of Preston many years ago.
My granfather, Walter Morris, was the town police officer back in the 50's. My sister and I pounded those dirt roads as small children when we lived on Harmony Road.
I can remember swimming in Linchester Mill Pond and back then the old mill was hidden by vines and a dump site.
Preston holds an awful lot of family history for me and just as many wonderful uninterupted childhood memories.

Greg VandeVisser said...

I found your site looking for pics of the Mill. I am starting a scale model of it. Nice shots. I owe you a visit. I will call soon to see what works.

Anna said...
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microscopische kleine fragmentjes said...


Lovely pictures of your dog and your walk. What a place. I walk from my backyard to neighboring farms but miss the water. I am trying to connect with you but the contact addresses I have do not work anymore. I would like to ask you for a reference. Please visit my website for info and contact info. Apologies for this way of communicating. Looking forward hearing from you. Dymph

Unknown said...

Found your blog looking for lighthouses. What a beautiful part of the planet you live on. Love your photos and blog. I'm writing from Bland Bay New Zealand

Unknown said...

A native son of yours, Harry C. Pullen, died in the Baltimore VA Hospital on May 16, 2016 at age 91. Preston is a mythical, fabled to me from Uncle Harry's telling of stoies of boyhood hijinx and the outdoor life in another era. He loved the great outdoors and was a fine gentleman. Your pictures do my imagination of the place fine justice.