Autumn is quickly spreading across Minnesota, starting in the north and moving southward every day. Saturday morning I left the house before dawn and drove north to Wild River State Park, a beautiful park located right along the St. Croix River. The morning was cold with frost and blue skies, but as I approached the river valley I could see a thick blanket of fog hovering over the water. I quickly parked, collected my camera gear, and headed along a trail that follows the river. In the stillness of the morning with the sounds and sights muffled by the fog layer, I enjoyed a delightful hour of fall colors. All too soon the sun burned through the fog, the temperature rose, and the wind picked up. I was delighted to see a bald eagle soaring high overhead, and later a deer ran by, obviously hearing my approach before I had even seen her. The time passed quickly amongst the golden leaves of the forest, and when I returned to my car I realized I was missing my cell phone. It must have fallen somewhere along a trail (or maybe even into the river). I reported the loss to the park staff and drove home with the hope that someone might find it or it might become a new treasure for someone’s geocaching trip. As the remainder of the day wore on and no word on my phone I mentally retraced my steps and thought that I might have dropped it near the front of where my car had been parked. So this morning I made the pre-dawn drive back to Wild River State Park, only this morning was a completely different scene. The night had been warmer, so there was no frost and no fog – only the bright sun as it crested the bluffs on the Wisconsin side of the river. I searched the parking lot to no avail, but took the opportunity to hike another trail further north in the park. With the bright sunlight the trees were glowing in their shades of yellow and gold. I appreciated the contrast between the two mornings and remembered that scenes and places are never the same, even when separated by only 24 hours. I have since replaced my cell phone, and I am not annoyed in the least at the “reason” I had to visit the park on two consecutive beautiful fall mornings.
landscapes
A summer bucket list
I have certain expectations and rites that I associate with the season of summer. My bucket list includes: (1) a baseball game with cold beer and popcorn, (2) putting the canoe in the water, (3) sharing a late-night bottle of wine on the deck, (4) eating cherry tomatoes fresh-picked from the vine, (5) watching a sunset, (6) a bicycle ride on an early Saturday morning that includes a stop for breakfast, (7) fishing (hopefully successfully!), (8) a chocolate malt from the dairy barn at the Minnesota State Fair, (9) swimming or wading or dangling my feet in a cool lake when the temperature is scorching, and (10) sleeping in a tent. Up until last week I’d checked off all my items except the last one, so my mission was to go camping. We ventured off to the southeast corner of Minnesota. Passing through acres and acres of corn and soybeans in the center of the state, we eventually came into the rolling hills and bluff country that’s to the west of the Mississippi River. The landscape is beautiful, with two-lane highways and county roads that curve and twist and go up to the tops of the bluffs and then sky-rocket down into the valleys. We found our way to a Minnesota State Park that’s nestled in one of those valleys – Beaver Creek Valley State Park. The park is situated so the creek flows right through it. Even to get to our tent site the road crossed the creek four different times. We weren’t driving on bridges, we were actually fording the creek and driving through it. We set up our tent at the base of a hillside nestled among the trees. Our days were spent hiking and exploring the park and the valley, along with this far southeastern corner of Minnesota. With all our outdoor activities, hot temps, and warm sunshine we slept well in our tent under the canopy of trees in the valley with the full moon high above in the sky. And just across the road from our campsite we could hear Beaver Creek, babbling its way throughout the campground and the valley.
Late summer gardening
I was doing some garden work this weekend – pruning flowers, pulling weeds, and trying to tidy up a summer’s worth of growth. We’ve had an unusually wet summer which has allowed some plants to grow like weeds (and even the weeds have been growing prolifically too!). As I was going about my work I was surprised to find this grasshopper sitting and watching all I was doing. He didn’t attempt to jump away, but rather he seemed content to be out in the open and observing. He had a great place to sit, perched on the head of the black-eyed susan. It’s always fun to find creatures in the garden, whether it’s grasshoppers, bees, butterflies, or even the occasional dried shell left behind by a cicada. Within a few weeks many of the creatures will have left the area in preparation for fall and then winter. And hopefully my pruning will be done and the garden beds will be put to rest and covered before the first snowfall.
The art of summer
The other night I came home and found a purple pail sitting by the sidewalk steps. It’s not something that’s usually there but when I peered inside I saw it was full of big pieces of colored chalk. I didn’t think much of it until later in the evening when I saw two of the neighborhood girls drawing hopscotch squares on the sidewalk. Again, I didn’t think much of it….until the next morning. As I headed out the door for an early morning walk I was thrilled to find that the entire sidewalk on our block had been covered with artwork. These industrious young girls had taken their chalk and drawn a meandering path the length of the block and had numbered each square. In some sections the blocks have different shapes and are sometimes side by side. But each and every block is numbered, starting at #1 and ending at #600. I was delighted to see such creative artwork right at our front steps! Although many of us adults wouldn’t think to do what these girls did, they certainly enjoyed this project. It made me think back to the summers of my childhood when I spent countless hours on my bicycle, afternoons spent at the swimming pool in our neighborhood, or the days spent tying together the white flowers from the clover to make a clover chain that stretched from my house to my girlfriend’s house. I flourished and grew up in those summers, and only now appreciate them for all the experiences I’ve carried with me into my adulthood. So to these neighborhood girls I say “thanks – you’ve shared a child’s joy of summer and art with our entire neighborhood.”
Raindrop ripples
Whenever I’m out on a lake I’m always looking around at the sky, the clouds, the shoreline and the reflections — anything for a delightful image and photograph. Last week I wrote about musical patterns that I saw in the surface of a lake with the reflection of cattails and lily pads. This week I found raindrops dancing on a lake surface. It was early evening when we put our canoe into the water, with a sun sinking into the west and a bank of clouds passing by. The sun was still out and when I looked around I could see small circles on the surface of the lake, and not of the fish-kind. Although we couldn’t feel it ourselves it was starting to rain. The single drops spaced themselves on the surface of lake, making beautifully concentric circles and ripples spreading outward. With the sunlight and the blue sky reflected in the surface, I was presented with a wonderful photographic opportunity. As quickly as the rain had started, it then stopped. After awhile the sun slid below the horizon, painting the sky a shade of pink and orange; the full moon rose over the trees, the stars filled the sky above, and we were treated to another beautiful summer’s evening on a Minnesota lake.
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