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...]
Something Old, Something New
A couple of big things have happened in the last two weeks—we celebrated an old marriage, and Chris got a new hip! The hip came first—I am just amazed at the technology that a robot can help the surgeon take out an old, damaged joint and replace it with a new one that works better. Along with the fact the person walks out the door just hours later! Wow! But just as miraculous is forty years of marriage! It’s a relatively old marriage, though perhaps more middle-aged when I think of my friends who have crossed the sixty-year marriage mark. We looked at pictures from that day forty years ago when we were new adults, newlyweds, new partners. It was a sweet and wonderful day!
Hip recovery requires care, some new equipment, patience on both our parts, practice of therapy exercises, pillows, and ice. This second phase is super important to make sure the excellence of the first phase remains. So we c-a-r-e-f-u-l-l-y went on an outing this week, packing up the needed equipment for Chris to sit under the old giant Pines at Belle Prairie Park while I took a hike. He looked out over Old Man River whose water overflowed its banks with Spring flooding. Something old—the old River reminds us and ties us to the past—the hard times and the good times.
Something new. New leaves. New flowers. So tender and sweet and pristine. Hope for the future.
Something borrowed. The beavers were busy using the floodwaters to their advantage, borrowing the young trees to make their home. It’s easier to move logs in water than across land. They are building for a long, happy life.
Spring flowers fit for a wedding! Wood Anemone is no flash-in-the-pan flower. It takes a single plant five years or longer before flowering! Commitment and tenacity.
The marsh and the forest are a combination of Old and New. The marsh is always ready to accept the Spring floodwaters, year after year, which in turn nourishes the lovely, brilliant Marsh Marigolds. Their buttercup flowers and glossy, heart-shaped leaves are a swath of sunshine through the Spring forest.
Old bark on old tree trunks shows the signs and scars of age and wear. Living long takes its toll, even on trees. Right beside them grow the young ones with smooth, gray bark—a long life ahead of them. And both get new leaves every year. Renewal is for everyone!
Something blue. Violets were scattered along the trail, warding off evil and giving me nods of good luck.
Surprises. Both of these surprises could be seen from far away at this time of year—before the leaves offer a shield or camouflage. An Oriole nest, a marvel of construction—does it house a nest full of eggs?
As bright as the Marsh Marigolds was a Scarlet Tanager, though with flaming red feathers and contrasting black wings. A handsome gem in the Spring forest!
Then back to the Mississippi River with flowering Wild Plums growing along its banks. The big island trees had their feet in the flood waters, as the new foliage began to cover their impressive Winter silhouettes.
“Ol’ man river just keeps rollin’ along.” Oscar Hammerstein
The wedding tradition of ‘something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue’ incorporates values and qualities that we wish for every new couple. It honors the long river of the past and the people who came before us, it encourages hope and prosperity for the future, it advises to learn lessons from the people who have already traveled that path, and wishes good luck—to do good and avoid evil. All four values are enveloped in love. For forty years, Chris and I have committed to these values. We have seen hard times and good times with surprises of both. With the scars and signs of age, we know there is always renewal and along with it, sweet hope, like nectar for our souls. We have learned that the old builds the new—what was is the foundation for what’s to come—whether of ideas, emotions, mistakes, or actual physical manifestations. We keep rolling along, building our long, happy life together.
Belle Prairie Shows Us ‘La Vie Est Belle’
I am a resilient optimist. Optimists have high hopes for the world around them and high expectations for the people in that world. Actually, I don’t even consider them to be ‘high’ expectations—just good, normal expectations, like ‘don’t lie, don’t cheat, be kind, have compassion, think of and help others, don’t be a bully.’ I think every religious and spiritual text says the very same thing. My optimism has taken a beating in the last number of years; my ‘rising’ with hope and ‘things will be better’ has been more feeble, less adamant, and much less cheerful. My resilience and love and optimism have been melting from my heart and running like a river away from me to some unknown place that I have no map to find.
Last weekend Chris and I hiked at a park ‘up River’ from us—one that we hadn’t been to before—Belle Prairie County Park. What a wonderful name! Beautiful Prairie! I wholly agree with the good and right pairing of those two words! But the park has much to teach us—only a small amount of the 145 acres is prairie land. It is a convergence of hardwood forest, Oak savanna, virgin White Pines, and floodplain of the Mississippi River, along with the prairie. The land was originally owned by the Belle Prairie Franciscan Sisters, and after a few changes in ownership, became the first county park in Morrison County in 1980. It is a small park, but one rich in biodiversity, distinct natural ecosystems, and cultural history. The prairie is actually the first thing to see when turning into the park, though like most beautiful prairies, it seems overshadowed by the trees and the water.
The prairie reaches into the Oak Savanna that contains scattered large Oaks. Just as in so many woodlands and savannas in this area of the country, the noxious Buckthorn had taken over the understory of the Oaks. The large ones had been removed, making it look bare, but a thick growth of young ones were greedily devouring the space and sunlight.
Hopefully in the near future, the Buckthorn can be beat back so the prairie grasses and wildflowers take their rightful place beneath the Oaks.
From the transitional Oak savanna, we entered the forest. There were more patches of snow remaining in places that were sheltered from the sunlight. The sun-warmed Oak leaves sank into the snow, a real-life relief of leaves, footprints—both human and deer, and ‘digging spots’ where squirrels and other creatures had dug up acorns.
We crossed over an earthen dam that arose from marshy places of the floodplain area. Cattails that had burst into a halo of light, brilliant Red-twigged Dogwoods, Speckled Alders with their reddish catkins, and sky-white Aspens colored the late November landscape of Belle Prairie.
Soon the trail came to the River and followed alongside the drifting blue Beauty. The Mississippi River has such a quiet power and presence, whether she is flowing through prairie grasses or forests of conifers.
I always marvel at the tree-laden islands in the Mississippi River, whether long and pencil-thin or compact and round. They take constant pressure from the fast-moving water or from the pounding of Spring ice.
The islands contain their own little ecosystems with animals who use the shelter and food to sustain them.
An ecosystem is a biological community of interconnected organisms. This tiny little island is a reflection of the many ecosystems that make up our world, of which we—you, me, and every human—are a part of, actively and passively.
Floating down the River were patches of slushy ice. Most often we talk about ice melting, and unless one is an impatient ice fisherman, we rarely talk about ice formation. In reading about ice formation, I found a website called the National Snow and Ice Data Center. I’m kind of thrilled there is actually an agency dedicated to ice and snow, and of course, what that means to our climate and world. What I learned is there is an actual ‘ice growth process,’ starting with these slushy patches. They are called ‘frazil ice’—ice crystals that form in very cold water that is moving too much to let the ice form into a sheet. Isn’t that a great name?
From frazil ice, ‘pancake ice’ is formed from the agitated and aggregated slush. Another great name which visually makes perfect sense!
The pancake ice turns and bumps against the other ‘pancakes’ causing a ridge to form along the outside edge, and the motion causes one pancake to slide over another (called rafting). The fourth step is cementing and consolidation of the ridged pancake ice to finally form sheet ice. Isn’t that awesome?!
After we rested on the bank of the Mississippi, in the warm sunshine, beside the frazil and pancake ice, we walked through the old and impressive stand of White Pines that towered over the picnic and play area.
Sunshine streaked through the forest of large trunks and lit up the carpet of pine needles to a soft, glowing gold. The many treasures of Belle Prairie.
Belle Prairie, beautiful prairie, God knows I love the prairie. But Belle Prairie park showcases an amazing assortment of ecosystems and species, all in a small area, thriving together. There is not one entity that holds the power—the River, the Oak, the Pine, the Swan, the Cattail, the Bluestem, and the Ice all hold their own amazing power. And together they create a system that is beautiful, diverse, and functional—a succinct description of Mother Nature herself. As for me, for now I am allowing my Love, my Optimism, and my Resilience to flow away from me—I cannot stop it after all. I will let Mother Nature take them where she will. Perhaps it is an emptying that I needed, a rest of sorts. I will find the map and the trail when I need to—I will find my way, I’m certain. In the midst of that, I found Belle Prairie who taught me to see and find beautiful, not only what I love and hold dear, but all those amazing, powerful creations that are less familiar to me. ‘La vie est belle’ means life is beautiful. It is an expression of a new era and the choice to create your own path to happiness. So be it.