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...]
Spend Time at the Lake
Advice from a Loon
Spend time at the lake
Enjoy a good swim
Call your friends
A little color goes a long way
Surround yourself with beauty
Enjoy time alone
Dive into life!
–Ilan Shamir, Your True Nature
We were fortunate to spend time at the lake not long ago. Our friends Rick and Lynda called asking for the favor of a little bit of our time and muscle, and in return we got a delicious supper, wonderful company, and a beautiful evening with the Loons. As we pontooned from the dock, puffy white thunderheads were forming behind the trees.
We cruised along the shore where reeds and Yellow Pond Lilies grew and where the evening sun lit up the skeleton bones of an old fallen tree limb.
The lake and sky were calm, the temperature just right, as we floated along discussing the tornado that had torn a path through the trees by the lake a few weeks prior.
We enjoyed the beauty of the billowing clouds and the rippling reflections in the blue lake.
We saw the resident Loons gliding through the water. Minnesotans love their Loons, naming them the State Bird and emblazoning their image on countless souvenirs. They have distinctive black and white summer feathers and red eyes which help them see underwater. They have four distinct calls that are used to communicate–tremolo, wail, hoot, and yodel. (Listen here.)
Loons, unlike most birds, have solid bones to help them dive deeply into the water to search for food. They are amazing swimmers, torpedo-like when underwater as they chase and capture their favorite sunfish and perch. They can stay underwater for up to five minutes and will emerge far from their diving point.
Nests are built by the male and female in a quiet, protected area of reeds and grasses. Their legs are set far back on their bodies, making them awkward on land, so nests are situated very close to the water. One or two eggs are laid and incubated for 28-30 days. The chicks are ready to swim almost immediately and will ride on their parents’ backs to stay safe from turtles and fish. Loon parents and two chicks can eat about half a ton of fish over a 15-week period!
In September the adults travel to their winter homes along the southern Atlantic coast or Gulf of Mexico. The juveniles will gather together and fly to wintering grounds a month or so later. Loons need 100-600 feet of runway in order to take off from a lake, but once in the air, they can fly 75 miles per hour. The Loons of Goodners Lake were undisturbed by our boating close by them as they floated in the placid water.
As the Loons swam off into the brilliant sunset, we headed for the dock. With the water reflecting and amplifying the sunset sky, a little color does indeed go a long way.
Many of Minnesota’s ten thousand lakes are home to the uncommon beauty of the Common Loon. Their haunting calls, like a wolf’s howl, invoke a peaceful wildness in one’s soul. It is a privilege to spend time at the lake with friends, a privilege to witness so much beauty in such a short time and in one snapshot of space on this abundantly beautiful Earth. Take advice from a Loon–call your friends, spend time at the lake, surround yourself with beauty, and dive into life!
Our Spaceship Earth on Earth Day
Spaceship Earth is a term popularized in the 1960’s, particularly by architect-inventor-system theorist R. Buckminster Fuller when he wrote the book “Operating Manual for Spaceship Earth.” The inventor of the geodesic dome relates Earth to a spaceship that has finite resources that cannot be resupplied. He spent much of his life researching and developing designs and strategies to help us sustainably exist on Earth.
Another forward thinker Marshall McLuhan, who predicted the World Wide Web almost thirty years before it was invented, is quoted, “There are no passengers on spaceship earth. We are all crew.”
Last Sunday Chris and I checked on the eagle nests–yes, we have babies! One nest has three, fuzzy-feathered eaglets, and the other nest has at least one that I was able to see.
The bluebirds were nesting nearby, and a ground squirrel slunk through the grass trying not to be seen.
We then drove to St. John’s Arboretum and hiked the Boardwalk Loop through prairie, wetland, maple forest, oak savannah, and conifer forest. In a short 1.5 miles, it was a lesson in ecosystems and a glimpse into the diversity of animal and plant life in a tiny part of spaceship earth. A beaver lodge rose from a blue lake on one side of the road. There was a path through the cattails and up the bank for the beaver to get to the lake on the other side.
Red-winged blackbirds sang from their perches on cattails.
The delicious scent of the pine forest filled our noses with the smell of contentment.
We crossed the boardwalk over the wetland…
and saw geese, ducks, and a pair of Trumpeter swans.
Painted turtles sunned themselves in the warm spring sunshine.
Maple trees with red and lime green blossoms contrasted with the deep green of the pines.
The woodland trail through the tall maples still looked like late winter…
…until we saw the Spring Ephemerals! These early blooming flowers take advantage of the small window of sunshine between snow melt and when the trees have leafed out. They grow, flower, are pollinated, and produce seeds in a short period of time and often go dormant by summer. We found Spring Beauty…
…False Rue Anemone…
…and Hepatica bursting through the leaf cover.
Two short walks less than ten miles from one another, and we were blessed to see such an array of plant and animal life that was once again coming to life in the Minnesota Spring. In honor of all these amazing creations, I would like to urge everyone to take good care of our Spaceship Earth. We are all crew members with tasks to do and responsibilities to carry out, even if it’s only in our tiny part of this big, blue planet. Happy Earth Day!
Splish Splashing in the Water
His name was Apples, and he loved water. My little strawberry roan horse never shied away from crossing a creek and would dawdle in the water, sipping it through his bit, letting it dribble down his chin. The creek seemed much more interesting to him than the dusty trail on the other side where the rest of the horses had gone.
One hot summer day in South Dakota, I was riding with my sister. We had had a large amount of rainfall that pooled into a low spot in the pasture. As we were riding by the clear water, Apples had different plans! He walked into the knee deep water and started pawing–the water splashed up onto his belly, onto my legs, and all around us! He dipped his head down, stuck his nose into the water, took sips, and blew the water out of his nostrils. I remember laughing at how much fun he was having in the cool water on that hot day! Then I felt him gathering his legs, taking small steps inward, and I knew that he was going to lay down! His legs folded, we went down, I kicked my feet out of the stirrups and stepped off of him into the water, all in one smooth, slow-motion movement. As my boots filled up with water, my sister and I laughed at how my little water-loving horse had changed the course of our ride!
That ride was over thirty years ago, but the memory of it was brought back to me when I saw a robin taking a bath in one of our bird baths. She flailed her wings in the water, lowering her head, shaking her tail, quivering her body, as the water droplets flew around her. Then she stopped for a few seconds, turned a bit, and started over again.
We sometimes forget that all the living creatures around us need, use, and enjoy water–just like us. The robin reminded me. The memory of Apples reminded me. On these hot, summer days as you enjoy the lakes, rivers, fountains and pools, remember to provide water for the animals–for sustenance, cooling, cleaning, and fun! Happy Summer!
Ducks on Ice
When the chill of winter is settling into your bones, think of this pair of Mallard ducks swimming in the icy water. By comparison, we are all cozy warm! This little pond is just off the Sauk River and within the limits of our small town. Here they are safe from hunters and have shelter and food.
On the other side of the snowy, brush-covered bank is the partially iced over river.
Another group of ducks huddles at the edge of the open water, preening their feathers and stretching their legs, necks, and wings.
They stand precariously close to the open water on the blue-colored thin ice.
Mallards are the most abundant and familiar of all ducks. They live in any kind of wetland habitat. The males or drakes have iridescent green heads, white neck rings, brown breasts, gray flanks, two black tail-curl feathers, and a yellow bill. The females or hens are mottled brown with orange and brown bills. Both have white-bordered blue speculum feathers on their wings.
Mallards are considered ‘dabbling ducks.’ They feed by tipping forward into the water to graze on underwater plants, invertebrates, amphibians, and fish. They almost never dive completely under the water. During migration, they also eat grains and plants in fields.
These long-bodied ducks pair up in the fall, long before spring breeding season. After the breeding season, they shed all their feathers, leaving them flightless for three to four weeks. The female incubates the eggs and cares for the ducklings.
Mallards are the ‘poster duck’ for all wild ducks. Most domestic ducks come from this species. They are abundant late fall migrants, wide-ranging in their habitat. They are adaptable strong fliers and swimmers. And they are beautiful!
May we have the grace to swim through rough, cold waters. When we are walking on thin ice for whatever the reason, may we have the ability to swim or fly to save ourselves if we fall through. May we have protection during our vulnerable, flightless times. And with a patch of blue or a black curl, may we show our beauty to the world.
This is What November Looks Like
I subscribe to a monthly magazine marketed ‘for women of style & substance,’ and while I would never claim to have the least bit of style, I would like to think my substance makes up for that! One section in the magazine has a beautiful photo of a real woman (as opposed to a model woman) and is titled, “This is What 50 Looks Like” or 62 or 45 or whatever age that particular woman of style and substance happens to be. It tells a little about her in soundbites like ‘On letting her hair go gray’ or ‘On keeping things simple.’ I like that page because the women look real–they may have wrinkles, imperfections, gray hair, or whatever, and it doesn’t matter. They look beautiful, healthy, and radiant and inspire by what they are doing to make a difference in the world.
So on this gray November day when most of the color is gone from Mother Nature’s palette, I want to show you that this is what November looks like in Central Minnesota.
ON SHOWING HER COLOR IN A GRAY LANDSCAPE
“The sumac seed heads are a colorful and enduring presence through late fall and all of winter, looking especially nice against the white of snow.”
“The tiny blue berries of the Eastern Red Cedar are a delicate decoration on the large evergreen tree until the birds eat them. The cedar also provides excellent shelter and nesting space for many birds and small mammals.”
ON BEING THE INSPIRATION FOR THE MOSSY OAK EMPIRE
“It’s an honor, of course.”
ON BEING GREEN
“We were green before going green was cool.”
ON BEING CHOSEN AS THE BEST TREE IN THE SILHOUETTE CATEGORY
“My oaks are winners in multiple ways! They provide food and shelter for many birds and animals. They are so much more than a beautiful structure!”
ON MINNESOTA’S TEN THOUSAND LAKES
“The lakes and rivers of Minnesota are one of the state’s greatest resources. They provide recreation and support tens of thousands of businesses. They are also home to a multitude of creatures.”
ON WINTER INTEREST
“Not only is the big, bold Joe Pye Weed great to keep for winter interest, so are perennial grasses and flowers with interesting seed heads, like the Ligularia. Of course, in Minnesota, they also have to be tall in order to be seen above the snow.”
ON DISPLAYING HER SCULPTURES
“This Gray Dogwood is a free form piece with strong yet flexible lines and added interest from scarlet flower stems and curly grapevine tendrils.”
“This fern piece has a rigid upright form and sports a metallic look, contrasting nicely with the fallen leaves.”
“This large, multi-piece sculpture is a study in contrasts thanks to the white branches of the sumac and the black branches of the Eastern Red Cedar tree.”
ON BRINGING NATURE INDOORS
“The Quick Fire Hydrangea is the perfect dried seed head to bring indoors to decorate for the holidays. To glam them up, just spray paint with silver or gold.”
ON GOING DORMANT
“Autumn is the season of transition to Winter. Winter is a time of dormancy, hibernation, tough conditions, and finding shelter from the storms. It is a time of introspection and internal growth after the exuberance of spring and summer growth and fruit and seed production.”
Thanks to Mother Nature for sharing the Beauty of November.
As told to Denise Brake
Life-giving Water
As I look out at our green lawn and all the lush plant life, I am reminded of the places in our country that are suffering from drought and even those that are just naturally dry environments. Two of our kids–one who lives in Austin, Texas and one who spent the summer there–were both amazed at the greenness when they returned to Minnesota. Central Minnesota has had its share of drought years–we’ve seen the brown grass, the dying trees, and the withered crops. But life-giving water is an abundant feature in the Land of 10,000 Lakes.
This is Mille Lacs Lake. It is the second largest lake entirely within the borders of the state, taking up 132,516 acres! According to Minnesota Fun Facts, Minnesota actually has 11,842 lakes that are larger than 10 acres. And of course the largest body of water, that we share with Wisconsin, Michigan, and Canada, is Lake Superior with a staggering 20,364,800 acres total with 962,700 acres in Minnesota.
We visited Mille Lacs on our way home from our stay at Crow Wing State Park. This famous fishing lake is known as the “Walleye Capital,” but also has Smallmouth and Largemouth Bass, Northern Pike, and Muskie. We didn’t do any fishing but drove around the western side of the huge lake, stopping at Mille Lacs Indian Museum and Trading Post. We did not see many fisherman on the lake that day, but we did see a multitude of seagulls! They lined up on the long docks that stretched into the lake.
And they made quite a mess on the docks and on the rocks of the scenic overlook!
Gulls are clever birds who mate for life and are attentive parents. They have a complex communication system and live in colonies. In Native American symbolism, the seagull represents a carefree attitude, versatility, and freedom.
Water is the life-giving, life-sustaining compound that is easily taken for granted when abundant, but becomes the center of attention, the sought-after, and the fought-over when scarce. Love is like that. We must be the givers and the receivers of love, letting it flow from one source to another. And with that abundance of love, we can live a more lighthearted, resourceful, and liberated life.
Tonic for Distracted Living
Woods and water are Northern Minnesota’s tonic for the stress and strain of distracted living. Crow Wing State Park is a tranquil place on the bluffs of the Mississippi and Crow Wing Rivers. The Mississippi River here is only one hundred miles or so from its source at Lake Itasca on its 2, 350 mile journey to the Gulf of Mexico. The River is calm and serene, making it a perfect place for canoeing, eagle watching, and fishing.
The woods above the river include stately pines and oaks. Quiet trails lead to historical sites of a long-gone trader village and mission churches and schools. It’s a step back in time, a step back to yourself.
We ventured a little farther north to Star Lake Wilderness Camp, a place where all three of our kids have spent a summer working. It is one of those places that gets under your skin and into your heart–a place where you meet yourself and God. The rustic camp buildings were boarded up for the winter with only the memories of laughing campers lingering in the woods. We walked down to the beach on a sloping path through the towering trees with meadow rue and ferns brushing against our legs.
The lake was beautiful as ever but wilder in its non-summer state with no docks, no canoes, no splashing campers.
The exquisite Water Lily flower floated beside the rain-spotted leaves, not needing an audience or attention or applause in the unveiling of its loveliness.
We walked through the pine forest, a wondrously still and quiet place. This community of lofty pines amid the fragrant pine needle carpet reminds us that we walk on sacred ground.
And while we see the death of a huge pine like the one above the Mississippi River, we also see the birth of one in a bed of moss and pine needles.
Our distracted living–activities, sports, phones, computers, tvs, video games, shopping, drinking, doing, working, and many more things–can pull us away from knowing who we really are. The woods and the water can bring us back to ourselves–in all our pain and glory. It lets us unveil the beauty of ourselves to ourselves, which is the essence of a good and holy life. It reminds us of death and new life and makes us question where exactly we fit with this community of people living on sacred ground.