Concurrently

It was a beautiful day today as early spring days go.  The fact that the sky was cloudless and the temperature was above freezing didn’t hurt.  Plus, the winds were moderate to calm, which was a change of pace from the gale force tempest we’d been having to endure for the last week or two.

After a morning run, and watching the Iowa women win their first game of the NCAA Basketball Tournament, I started gathering together my outdoor gear.  While prepping, I called and talked to my Dad to catch up on life.  I also texted with my cousin Sean to let him know that I planned to head out to the woods to cook up some venison of his - from a deer he had harvested an autumn or two ago.

He didn’t exactly give the venison to me, but his Dad offered me some of it during a visit - to help clear out a little space in his freezer where it had been stored for a period of time.  I appreciated being the recipient of the decluttering, and was finally in the perfect position to put the meat to good use!  Thanks Uncle Bob!

Sean said he might go out too, make some coffee, and read a book; both of us thinking that we’d take our dogs, and soak up some sun and vitamin D.  The temperatures promised to be in the mid to upper 40’s.  Although we’d both be heading out to the woods at the same time, we’d unfortunately be on opposite sides of the big puddle called Lake Michigan - and a mere 337 miles away (from point to point) of where we each planned to set up our day camp.  Even though we were far away from each other, we'd be enjoying the outdoors concurrently.

After parking, pulling on my new hip boots, and hoisting my pack, Kora heeled and trotted alongside my left flank.  I figured that I’d wear the hip boots in case I had to slog through any water and also to ward off any early season ticks.  I had my pant legs tucked within my thick wool socks and down inside the boots as an extra precaution.  Kora had her monthly tick & flea treatments as a defense, plus I’d check her over as soon as we were back home and I’d brushed her out.

Once we were through a water filled ditch we plunged into a thicket of prickly ash.  You have to duck and dodge the branches like a prize fighter to keep from getting poked or maimed by the thorns in those woods, which is why I like to periodically go there, nobody else attempts it!

There’s a massive sycamore tree back in that section of woods that sits on the bank of an old oxbow.  The base of the trunk is 4 to 5 feet in diameter and its bone white branches raise their arms in perfect praise to the heavens.  You can almost hear its sigh of relief at not having to worry about strong currents eroding its roots any longer.  It’s content to sit and bask in the setting sun and find liquid nourishment beside calm water that is little more than a kidney shaped pond; once an outside bend to the bigger river now a couple hundred yards away.

As Kora sniffed and explored, I cleared away a few branches and set out both her flannel lined blanket and my sit pad.  We would relax together as I studied from the book entitled, Aldo Leopold: The Man And His Legacy.  With the sun on my side and the Grandfather Tree at my back, I read about Leopold’s quest to set aside wilderness.  According to Craig W. Allin, “Leopold was pioneering the science of wildlife management.” (26)  Before Leopold, wildlife was simply known as game.  Resources were often taken for granted and the relationships misunderstood (i.e. the erosion of soil & the elimination of predators).  Leopold himself enjoyed hunting and fishing, and recognized the need for raw materials, but was also trying to learn how things could be governed with responsible stewardship - animals, plants, and the entire genre of living and nonliving entities.  This was something that the native peoples of our land had always understood; as their lives were interconnected and dependent with the land & water.  As Aldo studied and gained knowledge, he made some mistakes, and found himself in the midst of a learning curve early on, but as Allin also wrote, “It [Aldo’s message] was, at its core, a plan for natural and cultural diversity and an effort to stimulate effective political demand for wilderness as a critical element in that diversity.” (29)

At the time, this was new thinking and the foundation of what was to become Aldo Leopold’s “Land Ethic.”  The idea of renewing ecosystems and healing what had been exploited was revolutionary, because prior to this mankind simply moved further into the landscape to find more of what had become scarce in their present setting.  A yeoman's share of his ecological journey took place in the 1920’s, and yet the struggle to put some of these crucial concepts into place continues even today - over a hundred years later!  Susan Flader wrote about Aldo’s goal even further when she explained, “He would motivate not by inciting fear of ecological catastrophe or indignation… but rather by leading people from esthetic appreciation through ecological understanding to love and respect.” (23)  Can you imagine such a thing?  What a novel idea to move away from attempting to force feed others into a platonic relationship with the outdoors, and instead, create a positive and intimate association with nature that leads to an an intricate understanding of how land and water - in conjunction with the biotic (living) and abiotic (nonliving) - must work together!  Wouldn’t you want to learn more about such things under those conditions?  He’d be the kind of teacher we’d all want to have; the outdoors as our classroom!

As Sean walked with his dog Kali in a grove of white pines, I put aside my book and started a fire from flint and steel; fueled by dead and dried branches that had fallen from the sycamore's canopy.  I had snowshoed with Kora in deep snow a few winters back, to this very spot, to cook a breakfast skillet.  Today I was moving concurrently with my cousin who was a half day’s travel away, but contiguous to the bank alongside the familiar oxbow; same place - different season.

Kali & Sean Hiking Into Their Base-camp

To the venison in the iron skillet I added a shredded potato, and eventually a diced onion; pulling aside some of it to avoid giving Kora the onion which apparently isn’t good for dogs.  The venison, which had come from a rather big 7 point buck, had been mixed with some pork during processing to add flavor and to keep it from drying out.  Once it was ready, I added a sprinkling of Colby Jack cheese.  Kora and I ate as the sun began to settle into the treetops beyond the still water.  Sean had his hammock up and was reading.

Sean And His 2022 Buck

My Plate Of Venison Hash

Sean's Hammock Near Day's End

In the distance I heard the booming calls of a barred owl.  Somewhere this raptor had a clutch of eggs that would soon hatch.  Canadian geese honked overhead in conjunction with the whistling of wind through wood duck wings, peeping at me as they searched for safe backwaters.  Surprisingly, a decent sized painted turtle paddled by; sticking his head above the tensioned surface to peer at me.  Just two weeks ago this water was covered in thick ice and the turtle was buried deep in mud and decaying leaves.  A fat headed bullfrog, still in tadpole form, propelled out from the shoreline and into deeper water.  Birds chirped and a few flies buzzed the tower of the nearby bushes.

As I leaned against the tree and drank my hot cocoa, Sean pulled Kali onto his lap to swing in the hammock and watch the final rays of the setting sun.  I pushed my books, cookware, and various supplies back into my pack, and in the growing shadows, began the hike back to my old silver Jeep.  It was an afternoon of hope for warmer weather, something we appreciate in the Midwest’s changing seasons.  Especially after the excitement for fresh snowfall has worn out its welcome.  It’s something that Sean and I both, even two states away, could enjoy concurrently.

See you along The Way…

Enjoying The Setting With Some Cocoa

Kali & Sean In Southern Michigan

Kora & Me In Northern Illinois