Every so often, a neighbor will invite me to talk about local trails. Once I start on that topic, I don’t know when to quit. When we move from talk to walk, I keep going: here’s this feature, there’s that feature. Sometimes nature itself has to shut me up with the surprises it keeps in store.

This week, I went with a community TV videographer to Horse Hill Nature Preserve. I suggested that we meet at a pond on the property, so that some springtime video footage would provide a good backdrop to the feature she was producing.

That was a silly thought. As was right and proper, I provided the backdrop while the pond provided the feature presentation.

(The finished video, “Trailblazers,” is available for viewing on the Merrimack TV site and app. Great work by my town’s community television crew, as usual!)

As the videographer started to set up her camera’s tripod near the pond’s edge, a ribbon snake came out of its hidey-hole practically at our feet to see what was going on. We stopped what we were doing and watched the slim creature for awhile, as it watched us. It didn’t seem impressed. After a quiet couple of minutes, it disappeared into some thick grass. As the little snake departed, I noticed a little tuft of bluets nearby, the first of the season’s wildflowers.

I knelt at the water’s edge to see if I could catch sight of some frogs or dragonflies. Clumsy as I am, I startled away a couple of frogs who jumped into the water when they saw me coming. But hey! A few feet away, my companion spied a frog who stayed put, practically posing for a photo.

The heron rookery was full of action. (This post includes a photo of the same rookery taken in another season when I had a better camera with me.) If the babies have hatched, they were laying low the morning we were there. The adults in the nests were croaking at the noisy geese in the pond. At one point, two herons took off to chase away a hawk that was performing a leisurely flyover to see what tasty morsels might be tucked away in the nests. That hawk had nerve, but not nerve enough to stick around when a pair of birds with six-foot wingspans came after it.

We came looking for a backdrop for an interview. Instead, the pond spoke for itself. All we had to do was stand still and let ourselves be surprised.

Light rain began to fall as we finished up. Nothing stormy. It was a grace note to the jazzy little riff nature had just played for us.