We headed out before dawn to Willow River State Park, located just outside of Hudson, Wisconsin. The temperature was a cold 9 degrees, but the eastern horizon was beginning to glow so we knew we’d have a bit of sunshine to warm us up. At one time the Willow River was used to operate mills for grinding grain, and later logs were driven down the river to Lake St. Croix. Today, in the cold of a winter’s morning, the area was quiet. We arrived early enough to observe whitetail deer that were starting to rise after being bedded down for the night. We saw an eagle soar overhead. And the snow all around was animated by the sun. Any small hills were accentuated and visible by their shadows, and where these small flower stems were standing tall through the snow they shed their shadows too across the white landscape. The sun caused the ice in the snow to sparkle as if it was filled with a thousand diamonds. It was a wonderful time to explore a new area and see all that offered up to us.
nature
Greeting the morning
After an evening and night of snow this past week, the following morning promised a dawn of sunshine and a brilliant blue sky. I headed out the door to begin my day at Como Park. As I walked into the park I was joined by a cross-country skier who said that the snow was going to be perfect for his outing. With different agendas we parted and went our own ways. The sun rose over the white landscape and brought a beautiful contrast to the scene. The night’s snow had clung to all the trees and they sparkled in the sunlight, especially with the bluest of skies all around. It was a delightful way to start the cold morning — surrounded by the beauty of winter, the promise of bright sunshine, and some morning exercise of tramping in the snow and photographing.
Bee balm in the fall
Fall is quickly vanishing across our landscape. The colors that blazed so brilliantly are now gone. The leaves that valiantly clung to the tree branches have let go and fallen to the ground. We’ve been working in our yard and gardens, preparing them for winter. As I was pulling out plants that were way past their prime I found a stand of bee balm, their flowers having dropped many weeks ago. I paused for a moment and realized how beautiful this seedhead was — a globe of intricate pieces that wasn’t noticeable during its summer bloom. Sometimes I feel the need to appreciate those things that are stripped of their original beauty and taken out of the context we’re accustomed to. Here too was beauty and form, even out of season.
Across the state of Kansas
We’ve just returned from our bicycling trip across the state of Kansas. In eight days we rode our bikes from the western border of Kansas and Colorado to the eastern border with Missouri. Along with our 800 friends on the Biking Across Kansas (www.bak.org) trip, we were up to the challenges that Mother Nature dealt to us, along with the not-so-flat countryside of northern Kansas. The 500+ mile trip was a test of our stamina as we battled the winds that blew incessantly almost every day on our trip; from the 40 mph headwind we encountered north of Oakley to the 25 mph side winds near the Colorado border. Smiles broke out whenever the winds were blowing favorably at our backs. We biked through the summer heat in the 90’s, were refreshed by the cooler mornings in the higher elevations of western Kansas, were “evacuated” from our tents when a severe thunder and rainstorm was bearing down on us one evening, and we appreciated the cloud cover that kept us cooler on one of our longer days. We enjoyed the golden sunshine that caused the acres of wheat fields to glow, and we watched as they marched across the horizon as the wind blew through the fields. We rode through the small towns that grace the rural landscape across Kansas, both the thriving towns and those that are barely getting by. The people along the route welcomed us with open arms, excited to share their stories, their history, and their pride in their towns. The community of riders renewed friendships and formed new ones. We laughed after we rode through a dust storm that caused our faces and skin to turn brown as the dust clung to our sweat and sunscreen. We swore at the early hills that grace “flat” Kansas, yet we learned to challenge those hills — to ride with abandon on the downhill side, and know that once you climbed the uphill ahead you’d probably find yet another set of hills on the vista before you. It was a wonderful week of learning new things about myself and about my original home state of Kansas.
An early morning symphony
In a highly unusual fashion, summer came blowing in on southerly winds this past week, seeming to pass over spring and jumping straight to 80 degree temperatures. When I awoke yesterday morning to 59 degrees I grabbed my camera and headed out the door. I was hoping to photograph the red-winged blackbirds which have flown back into our area and have been heard with their brilliant singing. At a nearby lake I wandered down near the shore where there were cattails and reeds. The area was anything but peaceful. I could hear the blackbirds (although they were sitting high in the trees) and the distant cardinals and blue jays. And high overhead the geese and ducks were calling back and forth as they searched for open water. Many of our lakes have experienced an early ice-out due to the warm temperatures, but on this lake there was open water near the shore, an area of thin ice towards the center, and then another area of water. A muskrat floated by the shoreline in a lazy enjoyable manner. The morning was alive with activity and was in such stark contrast to our quiet hushed mornings of winter. As I composed this photograph I heard the sound of something or someone walking on the dried leaves across the small inlet. I looked up and found a deer watching me. She didn’t seem upset by my presence but rather curious. We watched each other for a while, and then she was joined by another deer. Perhaps they were also enjoying the morning’s early symphony, the smells of spring, and the promise of the changing seasons.
lindastaatsphoto.com 