THIS TIME OF YEAR–MID TO LATE SUMMER, is the season when many folks find their thoughts turning to campsites, campfires, and canoe trips, the calling of loons, the easy comfort of the trail. As an old canoe guide, I find my paddling muscles getting itchy, and as the memories come flooding back, I recall many great trips, from the Fond
THE CARETAKERS RETURNED TO THE CHURCH O’THE PINES at about 2AM last night. This morning we awaken to a rainy day under the pines. But the congregation—particularly the saucy blue jays—seem in good spirits and glad to have us back. Our week at Fawn Island with family was great, and we are missing all of it—including good-morning and good-night hugs
ONE OF THE WONDERFUL FEATURES of life at Pine Point Cabin is Kathy’s gardens. Hostas, geraniums, bleeding hearts, petunias, pansies, roses—the list is long. Even longer is the roll call of wildflowers in the woods. And sometimes there is a cross-over. Ostrich ferns and wild ginger have found their way into the “tame” gardens. Then there is this one: Michigan
THE CHURCH O THE PINES AT PINE POINT is a unique and marvelous place. And it has a history. We were hired as Caretakers by the local squirrels and bluejays 25 years ago, and have done our best to abide by and nurture the spirit of the place since then. On our arrival we did some research and learned that
AT THE PINE POINT CARETAKERS’ CABIN AT THE CHURCH O THE PINES, the azaleas are in bloom. The kiwi vine is threatening to engulf the north wall. The ferns are 43 feet tall. The hummingbirds are happily humming, the wood thrush is singing his heart out, and the great crested Flycatcher is proclaiming pre-eminence over all the top of the
AT THE CHURCH O’ THE PINES the weather has changed. After returning from south Florida and its heat on Friday, we found good old Minnesota warm summer weather. Perfect for a Saturday motorcycle ride. Today we have clouds and overcast and a very cool day, having apparently missed any serious storms overnight. One notices how similar the weather of the
IT IS A GRAND SEASON AT THE CHURCH O THE PINES. As the song says, June is bustin’ out all over. The ferns are nearing chest high. The lilacs and honeysuckle are in blossom. The air smells even sweeter than usual. Our congregation is all here, the pews are full. We have a good congregation—well-intentioned and well-behaved—mostly. Of course, the
HERE AT THE CHURCH O’ THE PINES it is a rainy Wednesday, which is, of course, Church Choir rehearsal day. And the choir is in fine form. The ethereal Wood Thrush is playing the Pipes of Pan from deep in his green loft. The song echoes and trills and fills the woods with an otherworldly music. Even Sparky the Cardinal,
HERE AT THE CHURCH O’ THE PINES IT IS MOTHERS DAY. It is not clear that all the furred and feathered congregation know that it is Mother’s Day, but it seems likely they do. There are bouquets of wildflowers strewn around the woods—Bloodroot and Hepatica, Trout Lily and Spring Beauty. And all the mothers are busy being… well, mothers. Endlessly
HERE AT THE CHURCH O’ THE PINES it is a fine day to be Church Caretaker. Or Parson. Of which I am evidently both. The chapel and aisles will soon be brightened by snowy drifts of Bloodroot, the blossoms now just beginning to make their appearance; and in a few weeks will be replaced with taller drifts of Trillium. We