Women from Willowbrook gathered at the park yesterday. While there was a chill in the air to meet the rising sun, the warmth from the heat radiating off of the fire that was set deep in the limestone hearth, permeated their souls. It was a warmth initially sparked by months of separation, years of difficult expectations, and overall stress. Yet, the crackling flames were fueled by commonality, friendships, and a desire for something better.
Healing, unity, and connections don’t happen haphazardly. It takes intentional work. It’s like traditions. Sometimes it begins with a purposeful and planned action or event to help set the rock into place that becomes the cornerstone that marks when you begin to move ahead. Occasionally it happens because something that occurred was welcomed, celebrated, and scheduled again.
Today was a step in the right direction to perhaps lay the foundation for future gatherings. Erwin Raphael McManus once wrote that we are, “different, but a part of the same tribe...walking in the same direction, but on a unique path.” (The Barbarian Way - 2005) That sums us up as educators and humans alike; each with our unique gifts, personalities, and characteristics, putting one step in front of the other and doing the best that we can with what we know at the time.
I often wonder what I can personally do to help in certain situations. How can I contribute to help rally the troops or provide comfort and relief? I’ve found that what I am able to provide is never really the same response twice. It’s not a constant variable. Sometimes I speak, sometimes I write, and sometimes I listen. Often it centers around the outdoors or actively doing something. This time for the Willowbrook Women, together with the help of others, I simply set a date, made a reservation, and cooked a meal. The ladies took care of the rest on their own.
Current teachers and support staff from each side of our school building bonded with teachers who have since moved into retirement or other opportunities outside of Willowbrook. Together they talked, ate, and hiked the nearby trails. Together they laughed from their hearts, and showed brief glimpses of their spirit. The breakfast in the park was an avenue to move forward together, and that was vital on so many fronts. Perhaps today will be the segue that not only becomes a tradition, but that welds a link within a chain that has a unified purpose. It’s how seemingly small and insignificant events can become so important and vital. Should we all be so fortunate as to be blessed with such an opportunity.
See you along The Way...
The Fire, Hearth, And Gathering
Justin And I Cooking Breakfast In Cast Iron Skillets
It’s always been a part of me, that kindred spirit to the outdoors; the desire for adventure and to explore, especially around moving water. Now on the front side of a Spring Break from school, and after five months of a constant flow of Joe Robinet YouTube videos, I had the opportunity to venture forth. So far our staff at school has put in 122 school days of teaching to both the in-school students as well as to the remote learners; teaching to both groups at the same time each day for six periods in a row. We need a break to catch our breath and decompress before finishing out the final two months.
The first couple of days of Spring looked to be the nicest for dry weather and what could be deemed as warm air for the end of March. I decided to go on an outdoor adventure in an area that is about as close to “The Middle of Nowhere” as you can find in and around where I live. It's pretty wild, and sort of forgotten as most places go, which is why I love it. The bottomlands and waterways are near and dear to my heart, which is also why I try to visit it as often as possible. This would be the first time that I would visit while on an overnight canoe trip with my old aluminum canoe loaded with gear. I figured that I would camp alongside a chosen riverbank somewhere along the way where I could refresh my spirit while making a kindred connection to the moving waters and its surrounding environment.
Cindy was encouraging when I got bogged down while preparing my equipment. Sometimes I get stuck between that desire for wanting to do something and a paralyzing fear that it won’t work, it will be too difficult, or it’s just not worth it. Often this feeling occurs before I head out on a solo adventure. I don’t have the latest & greatest gear, but what I do have is good and efficient. It was more than what I could fit into my kayak and be safe, however, so after some debate I opted to venture forth in my beat up, $10 canoe. Dad spotted it in a garage sale several decades ago, and it’s been a great “barge” for many outings with various friends and family over the years. With its luxurious cargo space, I wouldn’t have to worry about having room for my tent, sleeping bag, and a small bag of clothes and food. I could bring what I needed, pack it tight, and still have room; giving me a necessary peace of mind. Assurance was something I needed in order to maneuver the river and its obstacle of downfalls.
Early on it was the strong wind out of the South that proved to be my worthy adversary. While it provided warmth, so that I only needed a long sleeved shirt, I had to battle the wind’s strength when it pushed up rolling waves and wanted to drive my canoe contrary to where I needed it to go. I depended heavily upon my paddle while using the currents to help provide the dexterity that was required to shoot between trees sticking up out of the surface.
I started in the early afternoon, after Cindy dropped me off, so that I could have ample time to paddle and explore before setting up camp prior to night fall. As I paddled, I spotted an eagle’s nest. I got out of the canoe, and snuck as close as I dared possible to remain undetected and yet still get a picture. Once I continued on, I realized that after traveling the next couple of bends, I would flow directly underneath the massive nest of sticks. At the same time I saw a mink exploring along the bank. I chose to free float for a few minutes, and managed to get a couple of pictures despite the mink’s constant movement, before drifting under the eagle nest. I finished, and got the camera put away a split second before I was blasted by the wind to such a degree that I had to dig my paddle in and pull hard to avoid hitting some submerged logs and being driven back upstream.
CLICK BELOW FOR A VIDEO THAT
TRACKS ME ON A FEW BENDS IN THE RIVER:
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at the bottom of the page.)
After two hours I found a perfect side channel to paddle up into and set up my tent on a grassy bank. I managed to even cut up a small stack of dried maple for firewood before the sun set. For dinner I heated up beef stew and made biscuit-cakes fried in butter. I washed it down with a cup of hot cocoa. Once dark, the stars screamed their presence as they were more numerous than the chorus of hidden spring peepers croaking in the water filled marsh grasses. I loved seeing the stark outline of Orion the Hunter, his belt, and the corresponding stars of Betelgeuse (shoulder) and Rigel (at his knee). Much like the constellations of Cassiopeia the Queen, and the Big & Little Dipper, I always feel a kindred relationship to these formations and seek them out whenever possible. Despite the light off from the quarter moon, I could also see Orion’s bow as well as his dog, Canis Major, trailing behind him with one of the brightest stars in the night sky (Sirius) located at the dog’s neck.
CLICK BELOW FOR A VIDEO THAT RECORDS
YIPPING COYOTES-HONKING GEESE & A GNAWING BEAVER
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Orion The Hunter-Just below The Moon
I was in my tent by 9:00 where I read and wrote in my journal for a spell before turning off my headlamp. I then tucked down into my sleeping bag with our old wool blanket wrapped up and around me; using it as both a pad and a cover. After having run 10 miles that morning, packing, and then paddling, I was tired!
Burning Energy On A 10 Mile Run Before Packing
Sleep was intermittent but good. I was relaxed, but there was so much going on around me that I didn’t want to miss out on experiencing it all. Every few hours various packs of coyotes (Canis latrans) yipped and howled to the North, South, and East. Great horned owls called over the backwater bottomlands in their muffled booms, while barred owls asked who had been doing my cooking between hair-raising laughing and cackling. The beavers that had been at work in the channel beside me moaned while gnawing on trees; occasionally slapping their tails in alarm. With my ear pressed to the ground over my thin pillow, I could hear the hopping leaps of the mice around my tent as they bounded through the dried grass and investigated the intrusion within their territory.
Earlier in the evening I had heard and seen mallards, the sharp designs of the wood duck, and squadrons of Canadian geese. By morning I had also heard the rattling croaks of sandhill cranes and turkeys gobbling at the sunrise before flying down out of their lofty roosts.
I went out at the first rays of light, when the birds began their succession of calls, to capture in pictures the colors of the sky. The beaver, probably tired after a night of chewing twigs, swam past me and out into the main channel of the river. I also saw three raccoons along the far bank, as well as another mink that was running at full speed as if it had forgotten something or was late for an appointment.
CLICK BELOW FOR A VIDEO OF THE SOUNDS OF
MORNING BIRDS & GREAT HORNED OWLS:
(To watch the videos you may need to change the "view version"
at the bottom of the page.)
It felt good to simply stand in place and listen to the water moving amongst the myriad sounds of nature. It was inspiring. In fact, although it took a while, I eventually forced myself back to my tent to both read and journal before a deer tick slowly made its way over my wool blanket. That was enough to jump start me into action! After checking through my gear and not finding any others, I broke down my camp, began to pack gear into my canoe, and started a fire for breakfast. While I was cutting up the potatoes and sausage, a muskrat swam past me and under the grassy embankment.
Once I had eaten, I shoved off and began paddling for my take out point. The air, although cool, was warm enough that I only needed to wear a T-shirt. While paddling I came upon two eagles, who with wings outstretched, were drying out after an apparent dive into the river for a fish breakfast.
It took me an hour to reach my wife who was waiting for me in our old silver Jeep. Our dog Kora was with her, and although she too was excited to see me, I think she was slightly put-out that I hadn’t brought her along. Perhaps on my next river run!
I’ve camped in various places a bazillion times with my family, or friends, as well as by myself. Often it’s been in a campground of some form or another. This was the first time I’ve ever gone by myself and camped in a wild area where if I yelled at the top of my lungs, nobody would ever hear me. I suppose it was somewhat scary; not because of any thoughts of a Bogeyman or Sasquatch, but rather the unknown. Although I was hardly gone 24 hours, what I found was what I had searched for; solitude and a connection. The call of the wild in all its forms, tied to the lure of moving water, is my kindred spirit.
See you along The Way...
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It was cold, no doubt about it. Between the temperature and slight wind, apparently it felt like 20 something below zero. I was a good boy and corrected some school work first, and then I began gathering my gear together to head outside. Today I’d have the woods all to myself.
My son and daughter-in-law Emeris are heading to Kenya, Africa this coming Saturday. It was around this same time 4 years ago that Todd and I had talked and began making arrangements to go to Africa together. It was a monumental trip that was life changing in some ways and memorable in others. I thought about these things as I packed and drove out to the river bottomlands here in the Illinois-Wisconsin Stateline area.
Todd and Emeris are flying into Nairobi, Kenya, and then driving down to Kijani Farm; just north of the village of Maili Tisa and the Tanzania border, under the shadow of Black Hill. Our friends Brian & Heather Dellamater are in the midst of their fifth year establishing Kijani to help provide water, care, and a community with the Maasai tribe that live in that area. Todd & Emeris are going together as a couple to see the ministry first hand and contemplate possible roles they may be able to take to assist in the endeavor.
In honor of this undertaking, and to that end, I chose to use things from Africa within my polar vortex adventure. I dressed with an underlayer, and then topped that off by wearing both my Kijani Farm T-shirt and sweatshirt. Since it was cold enough, I also wore a scarf around my neck that I had purchased from Africa.
The snow was powdery in the frigid temperatures. Almost nearing 20 inches deep, I used my traditional snowshoes; a necessity in the backwoods this year. Once I was back off the beaten path (which itself was actually non-existent), I settled in alongside my river of choice. I packed down a circular area, collected some firewood, and then dug down to the ground level to create a space to build a fire. As a fire starter I used my familiar steel striker along with a rock I had brought home from Africa. I had picked up several of the same kinds of rocks one day while walking some of the wild areas around Kijani Farm. I had discovered the rock's ability to make sparks quite by accident those years ago when at night I had emptied my pockets outside of our tent before going to bed. Upon tossing them at the base of a thorny acacia tree next to our tent, a shower of sparks were thrown off when they collided against each other. It was one of these kinds of rocks that I used with my steel to start the fire on this freezing cold day, but in reality, I could just as easily struck the rock against another similar rock to gain the spark that would provide the necessary warmth.
For my meal, I used a hand crafted knife from Africa; the sheath is of dyed cowhide. Typically I come to the woods with my food already cut up, but for this outing I used the knife to cut up the potato, meat, and cheese. It worked great, but it was at about that time that I realized that I had forgotten my frying pan. I had washed my old Teflon one, but while it had been drying, I had considered whether I should haul out my cast iron skillet instead. Apparently the decision had been made to not bring either of them, but nobody had consulted me on that choice! So instead I poured the water that I had started boiling in my pot, back into a thermos, and used that old aluminum pot to cook my brunch. It didn’t work too bad, but the cocoa I had later was a bit chunky and contained some extra protein.
While it would have been fun to sit and contemplate the world and perhaps write in my journal, the temperature wasn’t really going to let me do that. At negative 5 degrees Fahrenheit (-20° C), and the afternoon waning under cloudy skies, it was only going to get colder and my toes were already becoming numb. I needed to start moving. Besides, it was Valentine’s Day and my wife Cindy and I were going to get something to eat and watch a movie that evening.
I repacked my supplies and gear, thinking of Todd and Emeris as they prepare to travel to the flip-side of the Earth. While we are freezing here in the Midwest, the Dellamater’s have said that it’s in the upper 80’s there (°F). And while we have had a lot of snow this season, southern Kenya has actually gotten some rain during what usually is their dry season. Things will look green for them on this trip. In addition, the experience will most likely bring perspective. Africa can do that. Not a perspective that’s better or worse, just a perspective of clarity in the midst of what can sometimes appear cloudy. It’s probably like the cold, crisp air that surrounded me on this day, and filled my lungs; it’s acuteness demanded my attention and focused my awareness.
It was with that line of contemplation that I kicked out the fire, strapped on my snowshoes, and began hoofing it out. The air and snow, while cold, certainly was beautiful, and I enjoyed looking back over the winding trail I was leaving through the trees and frozen backwater ponds. I smiled to myself as I turned back and remembered the various items I had used on this adventure that were linked to Kenya, Africa and Kijani Farm. It was a perfect African Winter Outing as I reflected on my own experience in Africa, the purpose of Kijani, and the trip that Todd & Emeris are about to embark upon.
