I spent the day hiking along a lake and then through the forest. It was a perfect fall day with a blue sky and warm temperatures. The sun was shining and the leaf colors had begun their change. Everywhere I looked I was amazed at the beauty surrounding me – wanting to take it all in and absorb the warmth that I know will be waning soon. After hiking a couple of miles, I sat down on a bench along the trail and decided to create an image that would reflect the way that I was surrounded by the trees, the colors, and the sunlight coming through the woods.
Fall has arrived on our doorstep. Days are getting shorter and there’s often a chill in the air, especially in the early mornings. The leaves on the trees are starting to show their various autumn shades of red, orange, and yellow. It’s not consistent but there are certainly many patches of brilliant colors. And some of the leaves are now on the ground and underfoot. The air even has a different smell to it.
As I was driving our back roads in search of fall colors, I found some of the ferns had become a lovely shade of copper brown. The longer and lower fronds had twirled inward as they dried. There was a lovely delicate shape to their curves, while the higher fronds seemed to be reaching out for one last dance before the first frost of fall.
I’d had a busy day, with things to do, people to see, places to go. My mind was focused on all those things and the things I was reluctantly still not getting done. As I drove north I went through spotty rain showers – the hit and miss kind. Our drought has continued so I couldn’t bring myself to complain about the rain, although it certainly wasn’t part of my plans for my list of things needing to be finished.
When I arrived at the lake, it was still dripping rain. As I hurried with the things I wanted to get done I noticed the sun was peeking out and lighting up the opposite shore where the trees are loosing their summer green and are now in their various shades of fall green. The rain continued, and I was in my own world of thought when I turned to the northeast and saw a partial rainbow visible between the trees. By the time I walked to the dock I could see the entire arc of the rainbow filling the sky, and then a second arc appeared. Even though the rain continued and I was getting wetter by the minute, the double rainbow caught my attention and grounded me in that moment – of fleeting light and beauty and the appreciation of Mother Nature’s interruption.
A century ride is a bicycle ride of 100 miles. I decided this was my summer to earn this cycling badge and I chose the paved, multiple use Willard Munger Trail in east central Minnesota for my ride. On Tuesday, August 29th at 7:45 in the morning I set out on my trusty Trek Domane ALR4 heading north, leaving from the old train depot and fire museum in Moose Lake, Minnesota – mile zero. It was a cool morning with a lovely blue sky and promise of highs in the mid-70’s. By starting early I was planning to beat the northeast winds that were to develop as the day warmed up. The early miles were lovely and I had the trail to myself. My husband Greg was my support, in so many ways, and he joined me for a few miles of riding for encouragement and conversation.
After a lunch break in Carlton and rides to the east into the town of Wrenshall and into Jay Cooke State Park, it was time to head back the way I came. By 12:30 I was at the 50 mile mark, the winds were picking up a bit but now they were a tailwind, helping to push me to the finish line.
My legs felt good, my bike was doing great, and the miles were slowly adding up. Multiple stops during the second half of the ride were necessary for liquids and food – I’m amazed at how necessary it was to hydrate and refuel. 60 miles, 70 miles, 80 miles, 90 miles – they all required a celebration with a whoop and a holler as my goal was getting closer and closer. At about 5:15 I rounded the last corner of the trail and pulled into the parking area in Hinkley, Minnesota. With a smile on my face I looked at my cyclometer and saw that I’d ridden 102.5 miles (okay – a couple miles extra just because???). Greg was there to greet me with a sign marking my achievement, a celebratory big chocolate cupcake, and a car to get back to our campsite. I’m proud of planning, training, and accomplishing my goal, and I can honestly say it was a great adventure!
The last day of July – traditionally I’d think this marks a point of only one more month of summer. That summer is over half-way gone, and it’s time to scramble to pack in all the plans that are unrealized for this year. But maybe I should shift that approach and instead focus on savoring each and every day of this glorious, albeit short season.
I tried complaining about the excessive heat and humidity we had a week ago. Temps were in the 90’s, heat index was above 100, and there was no cooling down overnight. But then I tried to shift my focus – yes, I was still hot and I was sweating. I wasn’t able to sit outside to read, I wasn’t able to work in the gardens, and I found myself wandering inside to the comfort of air conditioning. But if I launched my kayak in the early morning I could take advantage of the coolest time of the day. And if I found a place to read in the shade and with maybe a light breeze, a tall glass of iced tea was a good accompaniment to my reading. And then when it was the late high-heat of the day and I was tempted to escape inside, I could walk to the beach and jump in the lake – a surely quick way to cool off!
So maybe, just maybe, my attitude needed the adjustment to summer. Rather than complaining about the heat and complaining about how quickly the months are going by, I could embrace and savor each summer’s day – the sun-drenched heat, the thunderstorms that roll through and give way to a bright rainbow, the fireflies that blink after the sun has set, the plethora of stars on a dark and hot summer’s night, and the opening in the clouds that was briefly painted in the late evening sky and reflected in the calm waters below.
lindastaatsphoto.com 