With delightful autumn weather forecast for the day, we headed out before sunrise this morning to Wild River State Park. This Minnesota park is north of the Twin Cities and is located on the St. Croix River. Although there was the promise of afternoon temps in the upper 70’s, the morning had a cool feel to it. We drove down to the canoe landing on the river and could see the fingers of fog stretching into the air and creating a veil over the fall colors on the Wisconsin shoreline. As we turned the opposite direction facing away from the river, we were greeted by the full moon as it was making its way behind the hillside. The prairie stretched out before us filled with golden grasses; the birdhouses were empty at this early time of the morning. The hillside was brilliant with the colors of fall – golds, oranges, reds – all in a hush before the sunlight brought them out into a blaze of bright color. Silently we watched the moon descend behind the hill and turned our attentions back to the river, accompanied by the geese and the ducks that were flying by.
landscapes
Observations from a quick road trip
I made a quick trip on Interstate 35 this weekend. Driving home I compiled some short observations from the journey:
1. Exit 22 in Minnesota is for the towns of Hartland and Geneva. The exit sign going south lists them as Geneva Hartland. That will be my pen name if I’m ever in need of one!
2. This heartland area was glowing in the late afternoon light. The soybeans are yellowing, the corn is drying, and with a bit of a haze in the air the area was beautiful. I’m thankful for all the food this country produces.
3. The red lights on each of the wind turbines all blink off and on at the same time.
4. It’s an eerie sight to see combines working in the dark in the fields.
5. It’s disconcerting to hear bugs splatting on the windshield right after dusk, especially so many bugs!
6. Sometimes luck is on your side, but you have to recognize it and act on it. I made a quick stop for gas and food at Clear Lake, Iowa (home of the Surf Ballroom – the location of the last show by Buddy Holly, Richie Valens, and the Big Bopper in 1959). As I looked down the road I saw the potential for a beautiful sunset. With my GPS I could follow just the right roads to the lake and found a beautiful park with sand beaches and a perfect view to the quickening sunset. Many of the people who were out walking, biking, and/or fishing stopped to take in this sunset. It was worth the extra 30 minutes out of my drive to enjoy this bit of beauty.
7. Family is worth 16 hours on the road!
Blue moon sailing
Every two and half years or so we are treated to a blue moon – the second full moon in one month. With relatively clear skies last Friday night we headed to a nearby lake to enjoy a picnic on the shore and watch for the moonrise. We were joined by a large group of children trying their luck fishing as well as a number of people out bicycling or walking – all enjoying the evening. As luck would have it, a bank of low clouds was hovering on the east horizon, and the moon was hardly visible as it first slipped over the lake. But as it continued its rise in the sky it cleared the clouds and shone brightly, reflecting in the water below, and lighting the path for this sailboat as it made its way back to the marina. A beautiful night and a wonderful way to bring a close to the end of August.
Seeing the familiar with fresh eyes
As I set out on my bicycle early this morning the temperature was already in the 70’s and the air was thick and humid. I was thinking about our recent 500-mile ride across Kansas and how this morning’s 20-mile ride wasn’t much in comparison. All of the scenery across Kansas was new to me – the beauty of the plains and the rolling hills have left a mark on me, and yet today’s ride was going to be over city streets that I’ve ridden so many times before. I set a goal to pay attention to the scenery and surroundings of today’s ride to see what I might find and experience. As I headed east into the sun I knew there was a slight curve ahead where the cemetery trees would be shading the road, but I was amazed at the rays of sunlight piercing through the leaves amidst the haze of the humidity. I continued on knowing that I’d be passing many lakes I’ve ridden by countless times. I passed this scene, then turned around and went back to photograph. In the quiet of the early morning two fishermen had a glass-like lake all to themselves — it reminded me of an old tourist postcard for the lakes of Minnesota. I thought about sitting in the chair and watching them, but I suspected there might be more scenes waiting for me ahead. I rode to a small prairie restoration area and was greeted by blooming butterfly milkweed and gray-headed coneflowers. I passed a lake that we have fished on many times, yet today there wasn’t a boat in sight. Instead there was flotilla of geese gliding quietly across the lake. A mile further down the road and I spotted a shy doe grazing on the far side of a pond — close enough to the woods to be able to run inside if she felt threatened. Feeling strong as I neared home I looked down and saw I was riding at 20 mph in a high cadence on a city street, much like the riding I’d enjoyed in the western flats of Kansas. All the experiences of my ride today were ones that I could have easily passed by and not noticed, but the intention of seeing with fresh eyes had brought me an appreciation for what was here for me today, in this place, now.
On the cusps of night and day
After record-breaking heat this past week we finally cooled down a bit yesterday. And with a Saturday evening with nothing to do we loaded the canoe on the car, grabbed our fishing rods, and headed out for some lake-time. As we put in to the water the winds died down, and as sunset approached we knew we were in for a treat. Our paddles whispered as they entered the water, the dragonflies were dancing over the surface, and we could glide over the lily pads in quiet. I would fish, then stop and photograph. I’d then put my camera away convinced that the sunset couldn’t get any better, only to pull it back out again. It was a wonderful way to end the day – the quiet of the lake and a mess of sunfish and crappies. And when this morning dawned with quiet and calm too, I headed out early on my bicycle for a quick ride. Like last night there was a great magic in the early hours. The birds were awakening, there was little traffic, the wildflowers were blooming by the sides of the road, and my bike tires sailed smoothly across the pavement. These truly are the “magic hours” and they make me appreciate all that is wonderful about this time and this place.
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