AT THE CHURCH O’ THE PINES, today–the Winter Solstice–is the shortest day of the year. This is true in all the neighboring fields and woods and rivers as well. And all over the Northern Hemisphere. So one could say the phenomenon is rather widespread. But do you know what that means? That means that tomorrow isn’t. The shortest day. Not
THE TEMPERATURE AT The Church O’ The Pines this morning is 147 degrees below zero. Which is cold, but of course we’ve seen colder. The birds and squirrels and deer are fed, the river is booming, the trees are cracking, and a few snow bombs still falling. It is winter, and a different world in the woods from summer. We
THE RESULTS OF last night’s snow and ice storm at the Church O’ The Pines. Some huge limbs fell on the roof and the deck, shaking the whole cabin, and causing the inhabitants a fair amount of anxiety. No heat or power for nine hours. Cold kitties. Now, as the northwest wind blows and the temps drop there are still
OF ALL THE TREES in our Church O’ The Pines forest, this White Pine is the champion. Seemingly touching the sky, with a nearly arrow-straight trunk, it is nine-and-a-half feet in circumference at chest height. Estimated age, 181 years. Experts say the percentage of White Pines over 180 years of age is very small, likely less than 1% of the
ON A COLD NOVEMBER DAY at the Church O The Pines, as ice skins over the shallow places and errant snowflakes dance across the deck, the time has arrived. Time to bring the little bonsai trees into their winter home, the small greenhouse in the old carriage-house garage. They look happy there and I will enjoy them through the long,
HERE AT THE CHURCH O THE PINES, it is a blustery November morning. The wind blows sharply off the river, while a low overcast contends with blue sky for dominance. The wind chimes on the deck sing, each with its own voice. Meanwhile the mostly bare branches of maples and basswoods whip wildly while the pine tops sway. The last
AT THE CHURCH O’ FAWN ISLAND, the sun rises through the morning clouds. The coffee steams. The ravens croak overhead. A jay calls his name. A young eaglet screams and a red squirrel trills. And Paddy looks out at the world. And then finds Kathy’s lap.
THIS SUNDAY MORNING’S Church O’ The Pines post comes from my book, Paddle Whispers, a favorite of many lovers of the Canoe Country. It is about… finding unexpected beauty. And meaning. ‘On a damp, gray morning beside a stream, I watch a spider spin a web. She is very small. She spins from a spruce twig to my jacket pocket
OUR CHURCH O’ THE ISLAND post today actually comes from two evenings ago when I ran out from the cabin to catch this sunset. In 45 seconds the glorious light and colors diminished. Sometimes we have only a few moments to notice how beautiful the world is. To notice beauty at all. This was not a ‘forest fire’ sunset, but
THIS MORNING AT THE CHURCH O’ THE PINES, as on many mornings, we sit on the deck for a spell and take in the ‘soundscape.’ This is one of the prime natural features of any location–similar to the landscape–but composed of all the sounds therein. Here in the forest, the soundscape is often comprised mostly of birdsongs–quite likely where you