Last weekend as I was driving home from Iowa to Minnesota I was reminded of the beauty of the Midwest heartland. No big looming mountains, no expansive oceans, no rugged red rocks. But there’s a vastness of the land that spreads from horizon to horizon. Here’s the area responsible for much of the food that’s delivered to our tables, and this land goes through the temperature extremes of freezing, thawing, flooding, and drought. While I was driving on the interstate I kept one eye to the western sky and the colors that were building up to sunset. As the pinks were glowing I pulled off onto a county road; the smell of soil and cool winds came wafting through the car’s open window. This one field was between seasons with some snow still clinging to the cold earth, the soil that was thawing, and the ribbons of water and puddles that were reflecting the last light of a beautiful day and sunset. So much to be thankful for in this spring season of hope and renewal!
sunset
Waiting for spring
With moderating temperatures, we headed out for some snowshoeing last night. North of the Cities is a small Isanti County Park called Wayside Prairie County Park. We pulled into the parking lot an hour or so before sunset with the hopes of exploring this small park. We traipsed across the frozen lake, following snowmobile tracks, to the southern shoreline. This lovely little cabin was perched on the hillside, overlooking the frozen lake to the west. With its tiki torches still attached to the dock supports and the yellow lawn chair overturned at the end of the dock, it looked like the party had ended right before the start of winter. As we gazed at the sunset reflection in the window of the cabin, it was fun to dream of what this little lake is like in the middle of a warm summer, after the spring melt. We toasted the summer to come, then turned around and snowshoed back across the lake, remembering that winter will loosen its hold on us eventually.
Watching the winter sunset
The days are short and the nights are long in our Minnesota-part of the hemisphere. After a stretch of sub-zero days, and the prediction of more to follow, yesterday was a breath of warmer air. Our highs reached into the 40’s and brought people outside as if it were late springtime. I was at Como Park to enjoy the late afternoon and watched this couple as they lingered over the early sunset. The shadows ran long across the snow but their spirits were high as they laughed and encouraged a man who was drilling holes in the ice for fishing. The sun set quickly, darkness took over, the wind picked up, and as predicted the temperatures fell to subzero overnight. Our respite was short but gave us the hope of warmer days in the distant future.
Fishing through the sunset
On a warm summer’s afternoon we returned to one of our favorite small lakes for some fishing. Our plan was to fish through the sunset and after dark – something I have never done before. The winds died down throughout the evening and set up for a beautiful sunset, with the colors of the sky reflecting in the quiet of the lake’s surface. We’d shared some dinner in the boat and the fishing had been successful. The light in the western sky faded to black, the near-full moon was high in the sky and we were the only ones still out on the water. We pulled out our fly fishing gear and settled in for some night-time fishing. Our eyes adjusted to the darkness and our ears became our “eyes” as we listened for the fish to take the poppers we laid out on the surface. More reliable for me was feeling the fish tug on the fly line. It was beautiful to be out in the dark; the shoreline was discernible with the moonlight, the lake’s surface was like glass, the stars came out overhead, and the night sounds surrounded us. The experience and beauty of this summer’s evening and night on a small lake were now embedded in our memories.
Spring? Somewhere?
Yes, it is spring according to the calendar. No, the state of Minnesota must not be subscribing to the usual calendar this year. As I write this, we are having our fifth straight day of snow; some days it’s been snow flurries, and a couple of days we’ve had inches of the heavy white flakes pile up again requiring snow shoveling. Everyone is grumpy and anxious for green grass, blue sky, and temperatures higher than 40 degrees. I was hopeful when I heard and saw my first red-winged blackbird on Tuesday morning. I’m sure he was a bit confused as we all are. With that said, I could NOT bring myself to post yet another photo with snow in it. Instead there’s only a small bit of snow in this photo from Two Harbors. This is the breakwater light at the entrance to the harbors. On a warm evening, it was delightful to watch the sun set behind the clouds and hear the lap of the waters of Lake Superior as they came into the harbor.
lindastaatsphoto.com 