Last week saw the end of winter with ice-out on our Minnesota lakes. This week we plunged head-first into almost-summer (oops – where was spring?) with green grass nurtured by light rains and warm sunshine. The birds have been singing early in the mornings and there are daffodils and crocus showing off their colors amidst all the burgeoning green.
Last month I posted a photo of the magnolia tree that is outside our front window. At the time the tree had buds and looked rather gangly. She has now come into her prime, graced with large white blossoms, hiding the softest of pinks near the blossom base. It is a joy to see the white petals shimmer in the early morning mist, and then turn almost translucent as the sun reflects off them later in the day. It is one of the short-lived joys of spring that graces our transitioning landscape prior to the arrival of summer.
spring
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.
Wisconsin’s wild lupine
We ventured north this weekend to the shores of Lake Superior. After a miserably cold and rainy week the weather cleared in perfect time for the weekend, and with little to no winds and mild temperatures it was a wonderful time to explore new areas. We wandered the highways and county roads of northern Wisconsin and even went to the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. After the wet and late spring we’ve had, the roadsides are now in full bloom. We were first treated to the white daisies and orange hawk weed that were abundant throughout the central part of Wisconsin. Then as we reached the south shore of Lake Superior and continued to the north in Bayfield County, the lupine were in their prime. I had seen photos of the wild lupine in the Bayfield area before, but they appeared to be in a large garden area. I was not prepared for the plethora of blooms that were gracing the sides of the highways. This photo was taken along the side of Highway 13 just north of Washburn. With their blue, purple, pink, and white spikes they were a treat to the eyes and a reminder of how much we appreciate the colors of spring that replace the white of our winter season.
On Big Rice Lake
Due to my recent broken arm and tendon surgery I was not ready to participate in the traditional fishing opener here in Minnesota. I was close but not completely operational a few weeks ago. But thanks to my physical therapy (and a late spring) it was time to test my hand and my fishing skills. We headed north yesterday to a beautiful lake in Cass County, Big Rice Lake. The weather was iffy – possible showers, possible storms, possible sun (in other words, nobody could really predict what it would be). We loaded up the canoe with layers of jackets and rain coats, sunscreen, rods, reels, and good humor. What we were greeted with could not have been expected — a wonderfully calm day with hardly a ripple across the surface of the lake. We were enveloped by a beautiful sky which seemed even more immense as it was reflected in the still lake surface. The clouds danced on the water as we drifted along. A few hours later we’d seen red-winged blackbirds protecting their nests, heard the call of loons from various corners of the lake, gotten a little bit sunburned, and caught our limit of northerns. And after we’d packed up our gear and fish, loaded the canoe back onto the car, and left the boat landing the rain began to come down.
The smell of lilacs
One of the most anticipated events of spring is the blooming of lilacs. Although their bloom time is short it is one that is noticeable throughout our area. All along the alleys, highways, and even interstates, lilacs are used as buffers to noise. They can grow to be huge bushes, towering way over the houses, with their blooms stretching upwards into the sky. We took our canoe out for a short paddle and fishing adventure one evening this past week. By the time we returned to the house the sun had set and the night had become very still. The air temperature was warm and moist from the rains of earlier in the day. As we unloaded our canoe and gear we were surrounded by the sweet smell of the lilacs that was lingering in the night air. It was delightful and memorable, and I made a point to cut some of the lilacs to bring into the house, trying to extend the time and appreciation of their short-lived spring scent.
lindastaatsphoto.com 