A Perfectly Miserable Day

It’s Spring Break at our school this week.  So far it’s miserable weather.  It was a perfect time, however, for our dog Kora and I to head to the woods along moving water.  We hiked during an outright downpour through the woods until we met the river’s edge.  While doing so, we spooked out a barred owl from a low hanging tree limb just a mere 10 feet in front of us.  I hadn’t noticed him until he flew, as he must have held off for as long as possible to avoid flying in the rain.

I had thought of hiking into a different area, but the last time that I took Kora out she could hardly move for the next two days.  So this time I chose a shorter route that was still worth the effort.  We shared the food that I cooked over the small camp stove.  Typically I like to use a small open fire, but I wanted to go stealthy this time, plus everything in the woods is absolutely soaked right now.  Sledging in dry firewood seemed unnecessary, so I pulled out the little stove instead and it worked perfectly.

Kora’s tucked in beside me now on the quilted blanket I put down over the damp ground.  I pulled a corner of it around and on top of her because she was shaking after getting soaked.  She’s warming up now though, and actively watching and sniffing everything around us.  She’s my eyes while I journal.

CLICK BELOW FOR A VIDEO OF

ME JOURNALING AT THE RIVER'S EDGE:

Perhaps the soreness she had felt after last week’s hike was due to the terrain, and the fact that we haven’t been out for a while, although that’s never stopped her before - ever.  Perhaps it was because she’s getting a little older (she’s almost 10 years old), but she’s the picture of consistency when it comes to “getting out of Dodge” and going on an adventure.  Maybe it was due to the Lyme Disease she had as a puppy; now affecting her joints all of these years later.  I’m secretly hoping that this is not the cause, because otherwise, it could be like looking in a mirror.

I myself was just diagnosed last week with Lyme Disease.  Who knows when or where I got it.  The “how” comes from the deer tick, but I don’t really recall when I’ve had one on me; apparently I have though.  Kora had to have a series of treatments to deal with the effects of the disease.  I’m not sure what the ramifications of the disease will be for me.  It was only a week and a half ago when my wrist, ankles, knees, and shoulders began to ache and swell.  I went to the doctor a few days later for some blood work and now it’s a waiting game to see when I can get into a rheumatologist to figure it out.  No wonder it felt like I was slogging through mud when I had tried running two days in a row last weekend.  All I know at this point is that I, “didn’t get it recently”; which I’m taking to mean that I’ve apparently had it for a while.  These are some of the things I’m mulling around in my brain and thinking about while out in the woods today.

In the meantime, a mallard duck flew low along the river’s surface a while back and an eagle flew with the currents of air out over the opposite bank.  Two woods ducks cruised in squawking their “oo-week” call on the bend of the river just down from me.  I’m not sure where they went, but if they swam upstream next to Kora and me, they had no idea we were here hidden up on this bank.  The air is starting to get cooler as they predicted, and the breeze is picking up now that the rain has stopped.  It’s gearing up to reach 20+ miles per hour by this afternoon.  I rather liked the sound of the drops on the tarp I had strung up to protect us, but the wind traveling through the treetops is just as comforting.  Cardinals are calling from the large oaks around me while flickers and kingfishers announce their presence nearby.  Sandhill cranes rattle their sound as gray clouds race away to the east-northeast.  It’s what I guess Winnie The Pooh would call a “blustery day.”

I probably had some other chores to do this morning and I know I had some paperwork.  But I’ll vacuum, sweep, and get a couple loads of laundry in once I get home and dry; so that will at least be something.  I’ll need to get after those other things soon, but after the schedule I’ve had the last few months, I needed to get outside to reset.  Smelling damp, decaying leaves, seeing high moving water after almost 24 hours of heavy rain, and listening to the train engine roar of the wind through the rattling branches is well worth the cold beginning to sink into my hands and creep down through the layers into my inner core.

This outing will be the fuel to spur me forward as I finish out this school year.  A host of things have already been accomplished since last fall, but I still have some other things to rock out between now and this spring.

Virginia Bluebells Beginning To Emerge

A few weeks ago I had thought of canoeing and camping as I’ve done the last couple of years over Spring Break, but the weather this year would have been “tough sledding” - quite literally those first couple of days when we were covered with a layer of snow.  As it turned out, this outing is just what Kora and I needed.  Hiking in and setting up a base camp was doable and necessary for a day like today, and yet not so much work that when the time comes to pack it up that I can easily get it all down, onto my back, and trudge it in my pack to the old Silver Jeep.

To anyone else, today is a terrible day.  The skies are dark, the woods are drab of color, and the weather is gloomy.  It’s the kind of day that guarantees that you’ll have the forest and riverside all to yourself.  It’s what makes it a perfectly miserable day.

See you along The Way…

Kora - My Partner For Adventures!

Generating A Generational Gathering

 

Sandwiched between Christmas and New Year’s, and on the backside of a small town in southern Wisconsin, I gathered two other kindred generations and headed out.  First we crossed a frozen lake, and then we climbed the far bank, before making our way up into the woods.

I’ve been there before, but this was my first venture into that locale with my Dad and son Todd.  Although I’ve taken each of them out individually to the woods, and on multiple occasions, it was our first outing all together.  For that reason they each knew the routine, quickly began packing down the snow, and set about collecting and cutting up some firewood.

Our Three Walking Sticks
All Carved By Dad

With the snapping sounds of the crackling flames, and the tantalizing smells of the sizzling food cooking in the skillet, we settled into the rhythm of a day camp in the woods.  We wouldn’t be there long, but we would be there long enough; long enough to generate meaningful conversations between father and son, and grandpa and grandson.  While my dog Kora settled in on her blanket, we sat and talked as I added various ingredients.  The food was typical, meaning that it was what I always cooked.  It’s become what’s expected.  I can appreciate that, even as the one who cuts and prepares it all beforehand.  When you’ve eaten several helpings of it outdoors, and in cold temperatures, you’ll know what I mean.

After indulging in the breakfast, and rinsing it down with some hot cocoa, we cleaned up, packed our gear, and erased any evidence of being there.  Being stealthy is important to keep such places sacred.  It’s why I’m always mixing it up as to where I go.  I suppose it’s like having a random generator that allows me to arbitrarily choose from any one of my special get away places.  In such circumstances I liken my decision making to being, “Crazy like a fox,” but I suppose it’s better described as, “Sly like a fox.”  Either way I’ll lose you if you try to follow me, and still manage to enjoy a great day in the woods.  And should you be so lucky as to be invited to join me, I’ll welcome you into the secret location with open arms; although on more than one occasion I have been known to wander in circles first to confuse people with directions or have them turn off the location on their phones.  As I said, it keeps places special.

For that reason, I’ll always hold that morning special.  Such an outing, in a sacred place, doesn’t happen often; and when it does you mark it.  Generating a time when you can gather generations of your family together for an outdoor experience can be memorable, especially when you each share the same spirit of adventure.  Perhaps that’s why I smiled to myself as I walked with my dad and son back across the lake, watching our shadows in the snow covered ice under the glare of the rising sun.

See you along The Way…

A Mosaic Tapestry

I’ve been mulling over the idea of mosaic structures for the last few days.  A mosaic art form of random and diversified pieces of interest arranged to create a picture of life itself.  The instructor I had throughout my Master’s Degree often talked about life as a tapestry, in which individual threads were woven within the fabric.  Those threads and broken shards of ceramic or glass are intricacies that make us who we are.  And those intricacies of course hold both the brilliant facets as well as the whispered pieces we like to keep private or secret.  Therefore, some of it is visible, and some of it is hidden behind other, more prominent aspects that are in the forefront.  Together our lives are synergistic in the way that the parts together construct the whole of our existence.

I’ve heard it said that our lives are metaphorically composed of seasons, blended into foundational stories that create us.  It’s probably a bit more simple than that for me.  I just love the seasons.  I love the winter for the air’s crispness and the chance to measure yourself with the elements of cold, wind, and snow.  I love the spring for the air’s freshness and the newness of life rising up from the roots, a personification of what we often term as second chances.  I love the summer for the air’s warmth and the opportunity to cast a line, or dive into liquid water.  I love the autumn for the air’s pungent smell, and the hint of change as plants die back into dormancy and living organisms hunker down before the return of winter.

Each season has its draw and purpose, and as a life-long resident of the Great Lakes Region, it’s ingrained into the very fibers of my DNA. Regardless of the seasons, I run, read, and am outside as often as possible.  I like to spend time on my own, but I also enjoy spending time with family, and friends; these days seemingly from a safe distance, out-of-doors, or on Zoom.

Yesterday, with the deep snow we’ve had this winter season, my dog Kora and I headed into the woods on snowshoes after meeting up with my friends Justin and Scott.  We enjoyed talking and working hard trudging along through the bottomlands of a local river.  We’ve done this sort of thing enough times over the years that when we set up our day camp to cook brunch, we all get to work on the chores necessary to complete a successful trip.  It was good food, beautiful scenery, and great to have to use our snowshoes; especially on the doorstep of another storm as we added another eight inches of snow to the accumulation last night. (pictures of our trip to the woods below)

When I got home from our outing adventure yesterday, I put a whole chicken in the oven, took a walk with my wife Cindy, and then laid down for a quick nap.  I also made the decision to get my long run in for the weekend, and ran 10 miles; finishing as the first of the storm’s flakes began to fall.  After cleaning up, I pulled meat from the baked chicken and added it to noodles and a creamy mushroom sauce that Cindy had prepared.  It was a perfect meal to eat while sitting and relaxing together after a busy day.

When I reflect on days like yesterday, I picture those mosaic works of art, or the tapestries of woven threads, and see clearly the aspects that make me who I am.  Sometimes I jump into adventures or interests when the opportunities present themselves.  At other times I think I push myself from activity to activity until I don’t have a lot of energy left, simply as a way to deal with stress.  For some reason this process is relaxing to me and restful; whether it’s voraciously reading through a book, completing a long distance run, or snowshoeing the winterland.

May you find the venues that make you tick, and that are a part of the larger mosaic or tapestry of your life.

See you along The Way...

The Genre Of Books That I Read In 2020

Running The 1st Good Snowfall - End Of December

MY SNOWSHOE OUTING WITH JUSTIN & SCOTT

(Saturday: 1-3-21)

A COMFORT MEAL AT THE END OF A LONG DAY

Winds Of Comfort

It’s fresh air blowing in out of the WNW at 15-25 miles per hour; gusts are up into the 40’s.  While the temperatures hover in the upper 50’s, it’s what amounts to a perfect fall day.  It’s a day void of sunshine, but the winds fill in for comfort.  With the late autumn foliage and it’s array of colors, it’s a great day for taking pictures without all of the otherwise distracting shadows.

This afternoon my wife Cindy and I came out to a favorite bluff-top ridge, overlooking a favorite river, in a favorite forest preserve here in the Stateline Area.  We walked and talked and let our dog Kora run happy and carefree.  Later we built a fire in the old limestone picnic shelter.  It was a small fire made from the spark of my flint and steel, and embedded in the fibrous bark of a red cedar tree.  From there I used small twigs I found on the ground from the surrounding hickories and burr oaks.  I cut the dried cottonwood poles that I had brought along into ten inch sections to add to the sweet scent of the smoke.  In my old aluminum pot I heated water for hot chocolate, and together with some pieces of coffee cake that Cindy had made yesterday, we settled in as we watched the cloud-veiled sun set in the southwest skies.  Its dim rays showed through the treetops of the woods on the other side of the river.

While several barred owls serenaded us with their soft booming calls of, “Who cooks for you? Who cooks for you all?”, we peeled away the scales of stress and life.  For this one moment of time, we took this precious shard from the jars of clay of which we are and allowed the winds to purge our souls.

I journaled while Cindy read; sometimes aloud when she came upon something poignant and symbolic to where we are in our journey through life.  It gave us something to think upon as Kora ate her food and watched things beyond our senses in the woods surrounding us.  Kora is ever alert, and I’ve learned through our outdoor ramblings to watch her, because she will notice wildlife and changes through the various sounds and smells long before I ever do.  The flicker, a species of woodpecker, being the latest to catch her attention.

Now, as the embers  glow, and the cool draft draws smoke up the old chimney, the darkness of the evening begins to creep in from the surrounding trees.  It is not the fingers of shadows so common at sundown, but instead a pervasive feeling that permeates my inner being.  I don’t find it foreboding, however, but instead embrace it and find strength within the darkness at the day’s end.  We are smack dab in the throes of the changing seasons; on the heels of fall and at the doorstep of winter.  The winds rattling the oak leaves overhead inform me of this, and I am listening.

See you along The Way…

_________________________

The Videos

The Wind From The Ridge

Thundering Paws Up The Trail

(To watch the videos you may need to change the "view version"

at the bottom of the page)

THE PICTURES

The Ridge

Sky Blue Aster

Burr Oak

Juniper Berries (Red Cedar)

Lichen

Cindy & Kora

Blackberry Sprigs

White Pine Needles