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...]
Curiosity of an Explorer
I’m a homebody in many ways—I love being home and even eschew the idea of leaving for an evening activity once supper and dishes are done. I am usually content with my routine. But I do get an explorer’s thrill when we plan to go to a new place in Nature! The Latin root for explore is ‘explorare,’ meaning to investigate or search out. We had heard that Savanna Portage State Park was a beautiful and interesting place, so Chris had gotten reservations for us weeks ago. He loves the anticipation of a planned trip even as I get a bit nervous about leaving home. But once I’m in the car with a map in hand (sorry Google Maps), I forget about leaving home and look forward to exploring and learning about a new place.
In just over two hours, we pulled in to Savanna Portage State Park, which is in the middle of the expansive Savanna State Forest. Commence our journey of exploration of the Wilderness! There are a number of characteristics according to exploreratlarge.org that define the mentality of an explorer, the first of which is curiosity. What will we see? What will we experience? I was hoping for a chance encounter with a Moose—will I see one? Our first hike was around Loon Lake trail. Loon Lake is a designated trout lake, just a mile or so in circumference, and the trail hugged the lake shore. Come explore with me!
The lake was calm with the slightest breeze occasionally rippling the mirror-like water. Autumn had begun—the Maple trees were beginning to turn color, red reflected on water and leaves falling on the trail.
Large, old Pine trees, White and Red, gripped the ground with their massive roots. A frog was our first creature to be found.
I was delighted to see Wintergreen growing beside the trail, its berries beginning to turn red, its leaves pungent with the flavor we associate with chewing gum or toothpaste. (It was the original source of that flavor which is now mostly synthetic.)
One Pine tree embedded in the lake now reflects arrows that point the way.
Along with the Wintergreen, a number of different species of Clubmosses grew and flowered like little evergreen trees.
The rooted trail led us to, then past a collection of golden-morphing Ferns—so beautiful!
Form and shape, color and contrast, reflections and realities all help us appreciate the diverse plant life in any given environment.
Many of the branches and trees that had fallen into the lake had become floating ‘treeariums,’ growing with mosses, ferns, shrubs, and other plants. Each created its own little environment, some used by the swimming creatures as a resting place.
Along with curiosity, an explorer must use discernment and logic. What are these white piles of dried-up scat from? Looking more closely, the white pieces were bones and pink-tinged shells, probably from crayfish. My guess of otter scat was substantiated when we saw a grass-flattened ‘slide’ from the hillside into the lake! We saw many slides and many piles of territory-marking ‘spraints,’ as otter scat is called.
A very industrious and disillusioned Beaver lived here some time ago. The tree was working to heal that gaping beaver wound.
At times along the trail, a small grove of Pines bordered the lake and path. What beauty in the bark of a mature Red Pine!
Balsam Firs were the other evergreens of the forest along with the Pines. Most were younger and content to grow in the shade of the canopy trees. An orange fungus was a colorful surprise!
Another rather startling discovery was a dead Snapping Turtle, upside-down, over a log. I wondered how he got there. Adult Snappers are sometimes attacked by otters, bears, or coyotes, so that was definitely a possibility. But then we saw a live monster-of-a-turtle swimming in the lake and wondered if the males fight one another.
More ‘treeariums,’ golden ferns, and red leaves decorated the Loon Lake trail as we circled around it. (No Loons to be seen, but we did find a beaver lodge.)
Towards the end of the trail, a large White Pine had tipped over into the water. The root ball was covered with Otter spraints, and we imagined they used the tree as a playground. Playfulness is another quality of an explorer, as expertly embodied by Otters running and sliding, swimming, rolling, and playing.
I fully embrace being a homebody and an explorer of Nature. Each of us has these seemingly opposing qualities in one way or another. Yet I have always lived my life with curiosity and wonder (another quality of an explorer). It has been the foundation of my learning, schooling, and being a scientist, as well as being an explorer. In my next posts, I will share other trails we hiked at Savanna Portage and other qualities of being an explorer. Until then, what kind of explorer are you?
Chasing the Sun
I bought a Sting album a number of years ago because of one song—“Soul Cake.” I loved the traditional instruments, the Celtic sound, and the inference that cake could be good for one’s soul—“Any good thing to make us all merry.” I had never listened to anything by Sting before that. The album contains some Christmas carols, but I never listen to it until after Christmas, in the gray days of January. It is titled, “If on a Winter’s Night…” and explores the deep feelings and thoughts that the cold, gray Winter brings to our doorsteps. This year, after Mary’s death, the song that catches my heart’s attention is “The Hounds of Winter.”
“Mercury falling, I rise from my bed, Collect my thoughts together, I have to hold my head; It seems that she’s gone And somehow I am pinned By the Hounds of Winter Howling in the wind.” –Sting
Our goal last weekend was to find some sun—the gray, cloudy days had persisted and resisted any positive forecasts that promised a peek of the happy-maker. “If we go north, we should have some sun by about one o’clock,” I strategized, looking at the weather app. So we packed snacks and snowshoes and headed north to Crow Wing State Park near Brainerd. When we pulled into the cleared parking lot, there were no signs of dispersing clouds, let alone a peek of sunshine. Still hopeful, we strapped on our snowshoes and followed the Red River Oxcart Trail along the Mississippi River.
We were not far along on the trail when I saw a sliding track in the snow. Alternating footprints were on either side of the slide—River Otters had been having some fun in the snow!
Not only was the sun nowhere to be found, the gray sky made the snow look gray—only the darker gray trees interrupted the gray expanse of our visual world. It was stark. It bordered on bleak. The hounds of Winter.
Another Otter slide etched through the snow and disappeared over the edge of the high River bank—that would be an exciting slide! I shoed through the deep snow to peer over the bank and saw his slide trail go all the way across the ice to the open ribbon of water.
Despite the lack of sun, it was a good day for snowshoeing. The temperature was in the low teens, and as long as we kept moving, we stayed warm but not sweaty.
Another Otter slide started on one side of the trail on a little hill, crossed our trail, then zoomed down the River embankment after a little hiccup with a snow-embedded branch. Otters slide on their chest and bellies, and when gravity doesn’t pull them along, they push themselves along with their hind feet.
We stopped for some water and a snack as we looked out over the frozen Mississippi River at Chippewa Lookout, then circled back towards the Old Crow Wing townsite where we had begun our hike.
The history of this park includes the sites of three different mission churches, including one from the Catholic Church, where now stands a small, granite chapel. As we snowshoed past the outdoor alter, the words “Hail Mary, full of grace” came to my mind.
We never found the Sun. The gray Hounds of Winter found us. After the initial shock of a loved one’s death, grief can harry us, like Sting says “the Hounds of Winter, they harry me down.” Everyday life has a different feel, even as there are times when a day’s routine takes our mind away from the bleakness. There are even moments of joy that penetrate the grief like a ray of sunshine. Imagining the otters sliding in the snow gave me that ray of happiness. There is something to be said for living in the grief, in the stark grayness. For in the midst of the gray grief is the reason why we even feel that way—love. With each step forward, the grief is acknowledged and integrated into our being. With each step forward, the love is remembered and held up in gratitude.