IT IS A FINE DAY in the Pine Point woods

IT IS A FINE DAY in the Pine Point woods, as two of our favorite migrants among the passeriformes—perching birds—have returned. The little yellow-rumped (Myrtle) warblers have traveled from the southern US and Mexico, on their way to the North Woods of northeastern Minnesota and Canada. They are usually the first of the warbler tribe to push the boundaries of


GOOD FRIDAY OR HOLY FRIDAY is remembered and honored as a reminder of many things. Of the universality of suffering, and the ubiquity of death. Of the power yet stupidity of evil. Of the feeing of hopes and expectations dashed. Of the pain of mourning. But it is also the day for Christians that symbolizes the Divine taking human form,

YESTERDAY WAS a banner day for mid-March in Minnesota

YESTERDAY WAS a banner day for mid-March in Minnesota. So after the day’s chores I decided to take the motorcycle out for the first spin of the year. I stopped on a bluff across the river and was immediately struck by the view. Through the bare deciduous branches of shrubs and oaks, I was able to look straight down the

THIS MORNING the Pine Point Woods

THIS MORNING the Pine Point Woods and the old cabin are coated with a strange substance. It appears to have fallen from the sky, although that is uncertain. In any case, the fluffy coating—not seen much this winter—is lovely, and makes it possible to track some of our friends of the forest. This morning we see evidence of the nighttime

LAST NIGHT it rained

LAST NIGHT it rained here on Pine Point. In February! Despite the misplaced timing there was a certain satisfaction in awakening at 3:00am and hearing the soft moaning of trees and the steady rhythm of raindrops on the old cabin roof. As I lay there I was reminded of the many nights I have fallen asleep to the lullaby of


WHEN WE FIRST CAME TO PINE POINT and the old cabin, the forest was choked with buckthorn. Had to literally fight and chop my way through it. Bought a machete! Along with chain saws, brush cutters, weed wrenches, etc. Even the main lot under the century white pines was bad, and the red pine lots nearly impenetrable. Better now. These

Wonderful Hours with My Grandparents

wonderful hours with my grandparents

WHEN I WAS a little boy, I spent a lot of time with my grandmother and grandad. And loved every minute of it. They lived in a small house in a deep but narrow lot, on a green and leafy street in Alton, Illinois. It was my favorite place in the world. And my favorite part of my favorite place

The Sun Has Arisen

The sun has arisen

AT THE CHURCH O THE PINES it is a Sunday morn, and the members of our humble woodland congregation—ranging from snow fleas to eagles—strive for even greater levels virtue and moral rectitude than is normally the case. Although in truth I can tell no difference. The sun has arisen in the east, as is its wont, and shines brightly on

Translucent Wheat Shocks

Black kitten/Koda on the other side of the glass

AT THE CHURCH O THE PINES CABIN, it has been a cold stretch. The storm door has been frosted over in white. Today, with a change in temp and wind direction, the white frost is transformed into translucent wheat shocks. Lovely. It doesn’t hurt the picture to have black kitten/Koda on the other side of the glass.

Junior—The Baby Bald Eagle

the baby Bald Eagle

AND SO THE BIG DAY finally arrived at the Church O’The Pines. The day that Junior—the baby Bald Eagle from the nesting tree 150 feet from our Caretakers’ Cabin—after much squawking and debating, and should I or shouldn’t I, and maybe,maybe not—Junior decided. It was time. Time to fledge, to leave the safety and security of the only place he/she