Friday, December 21, 2018

Winter Beginings

Today marks the start of the winter season as per the calendar and the axis wobble of the big blue marble. Winter weather has actually been here since early November, with enough sub-freezing temps, snow, ice formation and grey skies as to be nearly continuous, except for a few hours yesterday and the day before when the air temperature rose above thirty-two. So, during this longest night of the year, I am looking back toward the other Solstice.

On that afternoon in June, on the shore of Winnibigoshish, it was cocktail hour, after the crew and I had already burned twelve plus hours of daylight. We sat around on the deck of our host's cabin in a small clearing of the canopy in a large section of the maple basswood complex of northern Minnesota's Chippewa National Forest. The air was alive with flying insects, birdsong, and wind waved leaves as a true tropic cascade danced above.  We watched an explosion of frenzied dragonfly feasting on both seen and unseen targets. There were several different species of dragonfly present, distinguishable in size, as they patrolled the opening in the canopy and the clearing below. Mosquitoes, blackflies, deerflies, midges and mayflies were all on the menu. And there were woodland warblers darting through the whole mix, eagerly collecting the abundant protein.

And then there was something surprising that non of us had ever seen.

With an audible "splat", the largest of the dragonfly types crashed onto the deck at our feet. Clasping tightly around a captured meal, it consumed another, smaller dragonfly. We were stunned and wowed!

New information about the green darner suggests that migration patterns of these common large  predatory insects are becoming better understood.

The time required to completely consume the meal was eight minutes. Only the mouth parts of the darner moved as it ate its meal. The smaller odonta was just reeled into oblivion! We witnessed this phenomenon several times over the course of that afternoon. We even laid bets on whether the big predator would be able to fly off after such a large meal. I was on the losing side of that - with no struggle or hesitation, and one flip of its wings, it was gone again into the aerial hunt the instant that the other was finished.









So, I think I am looking forward as I look back. Isn't that the purpose of the whole seasonal celebration. Happy Holidays !!

Wednesday, December 12, 2018

As low as it gets


Eight days hence
as a final five minutes of daylight disappear
from this grey and gloomy sky
we stop and look toward the lowest angled sun
unseen these many weeks behind the hazy shroud of early winter
its slow return a thing to celebrate

Friday, November 9, 2018

Freeze up



Eight degrees this morning
followed by another snowy day
Grey is the dominant hue throughout
A full on January kind of day
soft water last gasp

 Dogs intent on harassment by the bank beaver. This may its last day above the ice for many months.


Transition zone between shallow bay and deep main lake basin

 

Brewski saved from unheated barn just in the nick




Wednesday, November 7, 2018

Portrait of a happy man


Midway through the seventh decade
Time takes on a new significance
As the wheel spins
into retirement




Monday, September 3, 2018

Another Fly



The "McCain"

Red. white, and blue
and some sparkle
We will see if it works later in the month

Thursday, August 16, 2018

Them's Fightin' Words............... Sir


“Few Americans have done more to protect this country than John Brennan, He is a man of unparalleled integrity, whose honesty and character have never been in question, except by those who don’t know him.
Therefore, I would consider it an honor if you would revoke my security clearance as well, so I can add my name to the list of men and women who have spoken up against your presidency,”
Admiral William McRaven, Retired
08/18/2018



So, where is the congress when it is clearly time for a coup?


Queen of Soul

Goodnight Aretha



Sunday, May 13, 2018

A pesky loon



After looking at the maps, the stocking reports, the google earth, more maps, and then some more maps, I finally decided to go for it. Forty-eight miles one way from home down some fairly rough forest roads is where I ended up. A put and take trout lake. At twenty-one acres and a mean depth of only nine feet, I suppose it is more of a pond than a lake. I wanted some alone time and an adventure into the unknown, so this trip filled the bill. I half expected to find that the lake had winterkilled, or the other half expectation was that there would be a circus of Yahoos plugging up the whole lake.

But I went for it anyhow and on arrival, I was pleasantly surprised to find that I was all alone. Except for the loon! I have been around a lot of loons. Boated, paddled, fished around em. Shit, I even built a loon nesting platform at the home place. There have been plenty of times that a loon has checked me out - dived under the kayak, swam a couple circles around to check things out, and then off they would go.  Not this loon.
This thing dogged me. Twenty feet behind the boat it followed. But when I put up the camera.....Dive! Then it would pop up twenty feet in front of me. Camera.......... Dive!

This went on for the better part of an hour and I was not going to fish, for fear of hooking this crazy bird. I could just picture this thing bagging my streamer and then towing me around the pond. I should have been able to get some great close up shots, but no, this bird would not hold still for a photo. After a while, and I was getting pretty annoyed by then, it finally headed over to the other side of the pond. At last I could finally start flingin the flies.

I caught a few fish, gut the loon was never very far away - I had more half thoughts that he might come zooming in and bag a struggling trout on the end of the line. But that never happened.

Instead the frogs sang their heads off, the wild plums bloomed like madness, and the Piscator had another Beauty May day.







Thursday, May 10, 2018

May we ?


It's all good
But the first week of May has been really very good
Every day brings something new, remembered, longed for
Ephemeral
Ringnecked ducks diving for last autumn's rice
Turtles both painted and snapping breathing deeply at the surface
Bumble bees at the Hepaticas
Brook trout eager for a big cold water meal
Rosebreasted grossbeak cocks
Gaudy and winging in on the first warm rain
Storms of falling aspen catkins
and of course
fly rod panfish at a beaver house

Truly a constant
yet never at precisely the same moment, rate, or intensity
from year to year the events are replicated
If lucky enough to behold and participate
there is no better
Season

                                                       Song of the White Throated Sparrow

                                                                        Water Dog

                                                                  Leader Shredder

                                                                  Bumble Food

                                                                      Old Friends


                                                               What it is all about

And then after the suns sets
The techno world offers up something new from Old Neil
This one's for you David
Where ever you are...........














Thursday, February 8, 2018

Groundhog Blues


There stands the woodpile
on another subzero morning
prime number minus nineteen

Only a single cord left to process
under its snowy shroud
yet a mountainous metaphor
of every undone ambition

Surely a song hides there
lurking inside the birch
with thoughts of the paddle
and the cast
light years ahead



Saturday, January 20, 2018

Friday, January 19, 2018

Saturday, January 6, 2018

Heat Wave or Summer Dreamin'

This morning's temperature was minus twenty two. Then steadily it warmed throughout the day toward ten degrees on the plus side of the scale.  Warmest weather since Christmas Day.

This past August, while checking out the hazel nut crop, I encountered this bald faced hornet's nest. Unseen in the dense foliage, I got too close and was drilled twice before I knew what was up. Stands out pretty well now.  I might consider trading that day for this one - stings and all.

Wednesday, January 3, 2018

Deader 'en a smelt


More on the origins of that phrase later.

Indeed it pertains to the condition of the deer that we encountered last night.

Today's report:
A mature buck, with recently shed antlers
Body condition thin
Open wound in right shoulder
Broken bone visible inside the shoulder wound
No fresh bleeding observed in snow around the deathbed
No signs of animal disturbance

I did not attempt a necropsy to determine further causal factors.
No time to do any detailed investigation on my lunch break
And it is still below zero
-9 at the time the pix were snapped.

Tuesday, January 2, 2018

Killer Cold

 

It has been cold all over the place since Christmas Day
No news there
But that does not make perils
any less likely
where ever you are
cold comfort

Just before dark the temp drops
From a high of eight degrees
for the dogs and I walking the ridge trail
and on down toward the lake
excercising before the subzero night clamps down

Birdy, just below the rim of the ridge
noses full of something
in the lee
I see a bedded deer fifty yards ahead
"Whoa boys"
They stop. The deer stands.
The dogs look to me
"Come home boys"

This big bodied deer is not right
it does not flee
something surely is amiss
Home we go, and the deer watches our departure
I wonder if it is old, sick, wounded
or just all played out from ten days below the doughnut

I go back after dark, sans dogs
and clicking on LEDs
as the supermoon has not yet risen

Near enough to where I remember
I approach
closer, closer

Head down, sprawled
The deer lies
Dead?

I'll be back in the daylight