BE HERE NOW. It is the essence of Zen. The essence of simple wisdom. The essence of life. Be: Not Do. Here: Not somewhere else. Now: Not some other time we long for, fear, dread, or regret. Just… Be. Here. Now. No matter your problems, no matter what turmoil is around you or within you. Just… Be. Here. Now. It
IT IS A BEAUTIFUL TIME along the roadsides of Minnesota. Summer is gradually transitioning into autumn, and the season of gold into purple. Here Giant Goldenrod frames the deep purple of Joe Pye Weed. Bumblebees love Goldenrod, while Joe Pye Weed, named for a Native American sachem named Joseph Shauquethqueat (Joe Pye) is a favorite of butterflies. Gorgeous.
CASTLE DANGER is a very small community on the North Shore of Lake Superior. The name comes from the tall, rugged cliffs found there, said to be the site of long-ago shipwrecks. Castle Danger Beer is brewed in the scenic, nearby community of Two Harbors, and it has the coolest name for a beer that I’ve ever heard of. Or
RAINY LAKE SKIES… ‘Like the bright hair uplifted from the head Of some fierce Maenad, even from the dim verge Of the horizon to the zenith’s height, The locks of the approaching storm…’ Percy Bysshe Shelley
SO ON FAWN ISLAND, home of Koda, Simon, and Paddy, we now have a new arrival/family member. This is Dingo, late of Houston, Texas, found by granddaughter Maya on ‘Petfinder.’ He is a 14 month-old Golden Shepherd rescue, and he fills the empty spot left by the kids’ Nellie, who died last year. In just 2 weeks, he has adapted
AT THE CHURCH O’ THE ISLAND, through a gauzy porch screen, one ponders the strange beauty of a (mostly) dead jackpine. It still looks over the lake as it has for decades, an icon of the North. Like all such trees, it speaks of hardiness and fortitude, of perseverance, of belonging to and growing from the place you are planted.
FOR ALL YOU friends and admirers of little Paddy the cat, our St. Patrick’s Day waif, what a change. And what adaptions he has made! You will recall that Paddy was terrified of the world, and wouldn’t let us approach, let alone touch him. Now, here is Paddy on Fawn Island, having done beautifully with the 250 mile car-ride. And
AFTER A WEEK unplugged and virtually off the grid, exploring the North Shore, the edge of the Boundary Waters, and Voyageurs National Park, I return with my Road Scholars. To what we sometimes call the ‘real world.’ But there is something very real about trees and stones and rivers, islands and waterfalls and showy pink ladyslippers. About an ancient snapping
A RAINY, but green and lovely day, in the Pine Point woods. The kitchen window left open for the comings and goings of Koda-the-Forest-Kitten. The hush of a soft, slow rain falling. The high ‘r-e-e-e-p’ of a great crested flycatcher from a distant tree-top. The brilliant notes of a Baltimore oriole, the scarlet notes of Sparky-the-Cardinal. The far-off calling of
AT THIS PAST WEEK’S FOREST THERAPY RETREAT, each participant received an embossed journal, and a special earth-toned-ink pen, the better to keep track of earth-toned thoughts and earth-toned feelings. Of which there were many. Here is one from the end of our Forest Therapy Retreat: ‘I hope the vision of so much green space does not leave me for a