Come walk with me in the peak Autumn beauty of the Northwoods. To say that I love this time of year is an understatement. Most everyone can appreciate the colorful falling leaves---it reveals the 'true self' of a tree when its leaves are no longer producing chlorophyll. Their true colors are revealed, and there is something simple … [Read More...]
Archives for February 2015
The Weight of the World
Have you ever felt the weight of the world on your shoulders? I returned to graduate school twenty years after getting my bachelor’s degree. I was so excited to get back to school! I wasn’t concerned about studying, even though I had three kids–we could all do homework together. I didn’t care about being in school with classmates who were twenty years younger than me–I thought they were great. I looked forward to doing research with animals–animals were my first loves. After a move of 450 miles, I walked back into the same building that I had walked out of twenty years before. I loved that place–the classrooms, so new when I was first there, the arena with the sweet smell of cedar shavings and animals, the labs, the animal units or farms, and the sunny lobby where students gathered between classes. Six years after my return, I literally couldn’t make myself walk into that place.
One of the things I thought about when we were hiking at Quarry Park last weekend was how much all those granite blocks of rocks must weigh! We have a pile of ‘small’ chunks behind our garden shed, and I can’t even carry some of those. The size and weight of each one of the ‘spoils’ in each huge pile is staggering! (And then I wondered how this birch tree grew up through all those rocks!)
One of the quarries had the spoils blocks neatly stacked along one side, like a child’s wall of wooden blocks. How did they do that? And why were these blocks of rocks so deliberately placed compared to most of the piles?
At the other end of the quarry, a sculpture of sorts was assembled. What an artist that quarrier was!
We hiked toward the place on the map labeled ‘Overlook.’ The trail was steep and snow-covered, so we were glad to have the cables running on either side as handholds.
From the platform at the top, we could see the oak and aspen woods, the prairie, and the wetland below us.
Then I realized the overlook platform was on top of one of the huge grout piles!
The large, deep swim quarry had a path beside this mountain of spoils blocks which led to a bridge that guided the brave swimmers to the jumping rock.
What courage it takes to jump from such a safe place into the unknown!
We like to think we plan our lives and control the routes we take, but in reality Life orchestrates our journey. I started back to school with such energy, ready to climb whatever mountain I had to in order to reach my goal. But the granite-like weight of the past and the slippery, uncertain path of my endeavor sank my soul into the depths. I didn’t jump willingly into that dark water. Stars of Light that didn’t have a clue about what was happening to me, gave me the strength to go forward. The Great Artist guided me across the bridge of love to an unexpected place high on the rubble pile–back to Myself, and once again, I can see the future.
Many thanks to my Animal Science Stars of Light who also love the smell of cedar shavings and animals: Gina, Chaundra, Heidi, Chanda, Matt, Kristy, Earl, Tanya, and Josh.
Do It In the Quarry
A cold weekend hike at Quarry Park and Nature Preserve challenged my physical capacity to stay warm, my photographic skills with bright, bright snow and dark rocks, and my Wheel of Fortune skills when I looked back over my pictures.
Quarry Park is now owned by the Stearns County Park System. It was an active quarry starting in the early 20th century when St. Cloud Red Granite was discovered there. When quarrying stopped in the mid 1950’s, the land began to return to its more natural state. The 684-acre park has twenty quarries of various sizes, oak and aspen woodlands, open prairies, and wetlands.
But getting back to my Wheel of Fortune skills….The sun and snow were bright when I was snapping pictures, so at the time, I didn’t even see the worn graffiti on the rock. When I first looked at the picture, I didn’t pay much attention to it, but then it caught my curiosity. Well, the bottom word has to be Quarry and that’s definitely In and the first word looks like Do and the second word starts with an I….Do It In the Quarry! Oh! Well, I thought, I certainly can’t use that picture!
I suspect the graffiti writer meant to say what some of us are thinking, and there are probably thousands of nooks and crannies for such activity in the park. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that it may be the perfect tagline for what this park has to offer!
Do hiking in the Quarry! Or mountain biking or picnicking. Trails throughout the park wander through woods and prairies from one quarry to the next. You can pack in a picnic and dine beside one of the beautiful quarries or circle the whole park on a mountain bike trail.
Do rock climbing in the Quarry! Quarry #17 has been mapped and graded by local climbers. Free permits are required to get to the restricted area to climb this granite wall.
My favorite part of Quarry #17 is the chunk of granite with the drill holes that looks like a map of the state of Minnesota.
Do scuba diving in the Quarry! Most all the quarries have water in them–and now ice, of course. Four of the larger quarries are designated for scuba diving, including Quarry #13. Certified divers, along with a buddy and permits, can dive at their own risk because of ‘various underwater hazards.’ This quarry has several vehicles in the deeper area of 39 feet!
Do swimming in the Quarry! This one sort of gives me the heebie-jeebies. Quarry#2 is the swimming hole. It is the largest and deepest quarry at 116 feet. Yikes! To make things scarier, kids jump off the large rock wall into the blue-black water.
The ‘spoils’ are the quarried rock remnants, and since this quarry is so large and deep, the spoils piles are tall and wide.
They are constructing a new swimming hole in the Do It Quarry #11, complete with sandy beach.
Do fishing in the Quarry! Eight of the quarries permit fishing and have been stocked with trout. Just watch out for those tree branches when you cast!
In the winter, do cross-country skiing, snowshoeing, and fat tire bicycling! The cross-country ski trail is groomed and lit (white poles) for after-dark skiing.
Sixty years ago, when quarrying ceased, I’m sure most people considered this area a wasteland. The quarry holes, spoils piles, and destruction of natural resources by equipment devastated the land. The abandoned quarry returned to Mother Nature, and ever so slowly, she transformed the devastation into a diamond. The forests grew and enveloped the quarries and grout piles. Water filled the quarries, and wildlife returned. Willows, dogwoods, juneberries, wild roses, bittersweet, and gooseberries were restored to the land. Mother Nature’s inherent power to Do It In the Quarry restored the man-made wreckage to a natural wonder once again.
An advertisement for Origins Plantscription serum said, “Life puts the wrinkles in. Let Nature help take them out.” I love this! Life can be hard and messy at times, and it can take a toll on our physical and emotional self. Just like Mother Nature restored Quarry Park to a diamond, never underestimate the healing and restorative power of Nature to help take the wrinkles out of your life.
Warming Sun, Splashing Water
We’ve had a bit of a cold spell this week that has slid its way south and east–so many of you have felt it, too. Yesterday morning clocked in at a chilly minus eighteen, and we won’t even talk about the wind chill. But that is all a part of an ordinary Minnesota winter. What has not been normal is our snowfall! I guess we’ve sent it all to Boston this year!
But as the tree shadows show, it was very sunny yesterday. And even though it only warmed to eleven degrees above zero, the strong sunlight melted the snow from the roof of the house and formed icicles.
The dripping water splish-splashed into a crevice on the granite planter below the window. It was sort of a marvel that any water outside at that temperature wouldn’t be frozen!
Some of the icicles had crashed to the ground, skidding on the snow and shattering into pieces.
The extreme cold brought the pileated woodpecker to the bird feeder. He stopped for a bite of frozen crabapple in our young tree, his chicken-like feet clutching the small branch as it swayed under his weight.
The sun-warmed rocks and dry leaves around our hosta garden made stepping-stones through the snow, when usually they are hidden far into spring.
Dried hydrangea flowers still graced the blue-white landscape, not buried under a mound of snow or nipped off for a rabbit’s supper.
Each winter is unique and offers its gifts to the birds, wildlife, and to us. After a record-setting cold and snowy winter last year, we are almost basking in the easiness of this year. The sun is already angled to warm things up on the coldest days and lights the sky past the five o’clock hour.
We all carry expectations based on past experiences. Some of us believe the thoughts we think while the facts of our senses are telling us a different story. Those ideas can come crashing down and shatter to pieces with enough illumination. We have to open ourselves to the splashing water of a frigid-cold day, to the warming sun in February, to the sparkling light and the dusky shadows of our lives, and to the possibilities that entice us to live life large.
Treasures Holding Treasures
For my high school graduation present my parents gave me a cedar chest. I had long admired the cedar wood of the chests that belonged to my Mom and Grandma, though I eschewed the idea of mine being a ‘hope chest’ to be filled with things in preparation for marriage. I did, however, like the idea of having a place for treasures. Today, my cedar chest is where I store the crazy quilt my Grandma Anna made for me when we lived so far away from her. It has lacy crocheted doilies and a needlepoint pillow made by her and passed down from my Mom. It houses three generations of wedding dresses–mine, my Mom’s, and my great-grandma Katie’s from 1918. A plaid Pendleton shirt, a wool hat, and wool needlepoint Christmas stockings for the kids. Baby blankets, embroidered pillowcases, dainty handkerchiefs, and a wedding quilt made by our sister-in-law. And the strangest thing–two mink collars that belonged to Chris’ Mom, complete with heads, feet, and tails! For centuries, cedar chests have been used to keep linens, blankets, anything wool, clothes, and even paperwork sweet-smelling and safe from insects.
The shaggy, rough bark of the Eastern Red Cedar tree has a reddish-brown color that hints at the brilliant red-purple wood that is contained inside of it. The wood is fine-grained, light, and durable. It has been used for fence posts, pencils, cedar chests, and linings for closets. The distinct, pleasing aroma of the red heartwood repels insects and moths that feed on wool.
Cutting the wood with a sharp chainsaw produces fragrant shavings. After Chris sawed cookies of the beautiful wood, I gathered the shavings.
For Christmas presents this year, I made sachets filled with cedar shavings to put in clothes drawers or boxes. I cross-stitched initials on the open weaved Aida cloth, sewed a backing fabric right side to right side, turned them right-side out, filled them with the sweet-smelling shavings, then hand-stitched the opening.
Red cedars are tough, drought-resistant evergreens that provide cover and food for birds and animals. They are not the most attractive tree, yet they play an important role in the ecosystem. And inside the shaggy-barked tree, the wood is beautiful, aromatic, lightweight and durable. Crafted into a chest, it has protected treasures of every sort for generations of families.
We are all treasures holding treasures. We each play an important, unique role in our families, workplaces, and communities. Creativity, compassion, emotional intelligence, leadership, and humor are just some of the many treasures we bring to the Life around us.
Every Kind of Love
It was a one-in-a-million-chance-of-meeting love story that began in 1980 as May was slipping into June. He was a brown-eyed handsome man with ostrich leather cowboy boots and an easy, polite way of being. I don’t know what kind of courage it must have taken to walk over to ask a South Dakota girl to dance, with his slightly Southern drawl; all I know is, I’m glad he did. Thus began our unlikely long-distance romance with infrequent visits and the exchange of hundreds of letters. I learned about his love for his family, his character, his humor and loyalty, and his love of the outdoors. Two years later, in front of God, our families, and friends, I chose him to be my husband and he chose me to be his wife.
While we can only speculate whether there is Love between pairs of swans, eagles, and geese who mate for life, it is evident that they care for their chosen one.
They work diligently together to raise their families–building nests, incubating eggs, hunting for food, and teaching their young.
They are committed partners and companions, even when the road isn’t easy.
I have always said that Valentine’s Day is about Every Kind of Love. It includes Love for a partner but represents so much more. It is Love a mother or father has for her/his children–the daily care, the feeding, the teaching, and the letting go.
It is Love for our extended families and for the community of people who live and work with us.
It is Love for our friends–those close to us and those who are far away.
It is Love for our home the Earth and everything she provides for our well-being.
It is Love for the Creator who fashioned this incredible, enchanting world.
Valentine’s Day is also about a very basic, often overlooked kind of Love–the Love for ourselves. I don’t mean in a narcissistic, I’m-the-best kind of way, but in a deeply nurturing I’m-okay way. Love for the adventurous explorer in ourselves.
Love for the feisty, I’m-going-to-do-this part of ourselves.
Love for and acceptance of our uniqueness and our idiosyncrasies.
Love for our vulnerabilities and our curiosity.
I am grateful for the nearly thirty-five years with my brown-eyed handsome man, my husband and partner. But when time or circumstances strip away the driving forces of societal pressure and hormonal intensity to pair up, we are all left with something different, something more. When the busyness and self-sacrificing of raising a family or caring for parents is over, we need to re-fuel ourselves in some way. When friends are far away or gone from this earth, we are left alone in the middle of the night with our thoughts and feelings. When a workplace no longer provides support and daily companionship, we need the courage to be okay with ourselves. Love encompasses all the stages of our lives and is the container in which we grow and develop, make mistakes, take risks, and learn about the world and ourselves. Love is the Place we return to again and again.
Happy Valentine’s Day to my husband, my children, my family and friends, and to all you readers of North Star Nature! Love to you all!
Two Good Weekend Surprises
The first good surprise was a visit from my Mom. She called after lunch on Friday and asked if we had plans for the weekend. With nice weather in the forecast, she hit the road and was here by suppertime! On Saturday, we drove to Eagle Park to check on the raptors–no eagles in sight. A couple of hours later we checked again and found both sitting in the tree.
Chris walked down to the river as Mom and I started around the eagle tree trail. Soon the male flew toward the river. When Chris caught up to us, he said he had scared up a flock of pigeons from under the bridge. From his vantage point in the tree, the male probably saw the pigeons fly up and hoped to catch a meal. The female watched as we walked the trail.
We hiked the circular path around her tree, getting a look at her from all angles.
Mom was surprised by the huge granite boulders that were scattered throughout the park.
One of the rocks was called Morton Gneiss, estimated to be about 3.5 million years old–the oldest type of rock in the United States. It is normally found in southwest Minnesota, so how this rock got here was a ‘geological puzzle!’
I think the eagle tree and nest are an anatomical puzzle! How does the tree hold such a huge nest? And how do the eagles engineer such a marvel?
After leaving Eagle Park, we drove along Rockville County Park road and found the second good surprise of the weekend–another eagle’s nest! It’s about a mile away from the first nest and is not as large. We had driven by it before, but with the leaves on the trees, we had not noticed it.
As I was trying to focus in on the nest and get a picture, an eagle flew in with a rabbit or something dangling from his talons. Chris and Mom saw it, but I missed it! We know the nest has a mated pair, and I’m really excited to watch the raising of eaglets in two different nests!
(Watch Minnesota DNR’s live webcam of an eagle’s nest in the Twin Cities area.)
A beautiful, relatively warm weekend in the first part of February is certainly a nice surprise, but this one was made even better with a visit from my Mom. Both of us love the outdoors, and almost every visit includes some sort of walk or hike in Nature, whether she comes to Minnesota or I go to South Dakota. The unexpected in Life can affect us in a myriad of ways, depending on the event, our previous expectations, our stage in life, and the openness of our heart. My weekend was totally different from what I expected but in a good way! I’m grateful for a healthy Mom to hike with, a loving and supportive husband, the old and new in Life, and good surprises!
Pearl Buttons from the River
A convergence of occurrences led me to writing about pearl buttons. First was the date February 2–Groundhog’s Day to most, but to the Brakes, it is also the wedding anniversary of Chris’ parents. They were married in Chicago in 1944, he in his Army uniform and she in a stylish suit. Doug and Ruth both grew up in Cassville, Wisconsin, a tiny little town nestled between the tree-covered bluffs and the mighty Mississippi River in southwestern Wisconsin. The second occurrence was the fact that it was February in Minnesota, and my outdoor nature ‘opportunities’ were a little bit harder to find. And third, as I was finally putting away Christmas decorations, I came across something that Chris’ Mom had made.
On one of our Brake family reunions at Eagles Roost Resort in Cassville, we took The Pride of Cassville Car Ferry up the Mississippi to the town of Guttenberg, Iowa. The ferry has been running the river since 1833–the oldest operating ferry service in the state of Wisconsin. It connects The Great River Road and the Iowa Great River Road, two National Scenic Byways. We rode the ferry as walk-on passengers for a $2 fare one way. When we disembarked in Guttenberg, we saw an old limestone building beside the River. It was once a button factory. There were huge piles of discarded freshwater mussel shells in the sand between the stone building and the River that had been used to make pearl buttons. So the kids and I collected shells.
Empire Buttonworks opened in 1909–one of four button factories in Guttenberg. The Mississippi River provided a seemingly endless supply of freshwater mussels that were gathered by the clammers using dragging hooks. Mussels were boiled and pried open to remove the meat, then the shells were soaked before cutting buttons from the iridescent layers. Grinding and polishing followed, then the buttons were sewn on to a card. Millions of pearl buttons were made in this one factory during its fifty years of business, and this was just one factory of many along the Mississippi River.
I gave some of my collected shells away to other people, and some I arranged in a hurricane glass with a candle that reminded me of the River.
Long before I became a Brake, Ruth and her kids had collected Guttenberg button shells also. She and Chris took a pie pan, some sand, the shells, and plaster of paris out to the backyard to make a plaque. It was displayed in their living room for many years, reminding them of their River home in Wisconsin. It was passed on to us after they died.
Bringing Nature indoors keeps us connected to the Earth, and in the case of the button shells, connected to a long history of family. An even longer history emerges from the shell button industry–an idea, the abundance of natural resources, work for many people, depletion of those resources, a new idea (buttons from plastic), and so it goes….
I treasure the simple plaque that Chris and his Mom made. I treasure the memories of that ferry-boat ride to Guttenberg with the Brake family and collecting button shells with my kids. I keep the shell with the five holes on the windowsill above the kitchen sink along with a rock carved with Love. It represents our family of five and the prevailing emotion that I tried to bring to all our days together. Perhaps this will be part of a convergence of occurrences that leads someone else to a treasured pearl.
