TO ALL THE CAMPFIRE FRIENDS who enjoyed my account of the fledging and maiden voyages of eaglets Thing One and Thing Two, a little update. They continue to do well—which is a big deal as most Bald Eagle eaglet mortality occurs in those first few flights. It is not easy flying for the first time. And it is even harder
YESTERDAY WE HAD a memorable event here in the Pine Point Woods (sometimes known as the Church O’ The Pines). Two of our congregation members–our resident pair of Bald eagles, whose nest is 60 yards from the cabin–saw the second of their two young ones fledge. They graduated from the high white pine which had been home since late March–and
ONE OF THE GREAT advantages of living in the forest is that we are surrounded by real things. Nothing phony, no lies, no ‘misinformation.’ This seems helpful in keeping one’s bearings, in maintaining a stranglehold on truth, and in nurturing a sense of perspective. Among the ‘real things’ that help in this endeavor are the real creatures that live here,
THERE’S A BLUE JAY In The Pines; And Other Little Things: Many of us know from experience how important it can be to take daily care of our mental health, our wellness and well-being. Personally, I have dealt with a couple major bouts of depression, and lingering issues from ADHD, dyslexia and frequent failures as a child and young person.
MARCH HAS COME to the cabin-in-the-woods, and with it open ground. The whistle of duck wings over the frozen river—indicating there is open water downstream, near the island. The pileated woodpecker has been hammering a hollow tree all afternoon. The little lane has given up most of its snow and ice, in favor of pond-size puddles. At an hour where
A FEATHER, A RESET: I found a feather outside the cabin door today. Pretty, isn’t it? A downy woodpecker left it for me to discover. To notice. I like noticing feathers. And plants. And birdsongs. I like paying attention to the clouds, and predicting what the weather is going to do. I like studying music and art and history. And
A PEACEFUL AND QUIET early spring evening at the old cabin under the big pines. With the sun spreading gold over the far shore. Quiet, except for last year’s young eagle attempting to barge into the old, familiar nest tree. With much screaming and flapping of wings and similar commotion as the parents/proprietors, busy housekeeping for a new family, attempted
THE STRANGEST THING happens here at our bird feeding operation at the little cabin-in-the-woods. Sometimes—as this morning—when it is very cold—no one is here. I go out, in all my impedimenta, with seeds and corn and sunflower hearts and water, and brave the beastly cold, and… nothing. And I get a little worried. For more often when I go out
OCTOBER SUNRISE, Church O’ The Pines. The morning gossiping of chickadees. The laugh of a pileated woodpecker. The reflecting Father of Waters…. All the congregation, surrounded by beauty. We wish you beauty. We wish you Good Sabbath.
AFTER DAYS OF North Country scorchers it is a fine and pleasant thing to watch thunderheads building over Fawn Isalnd on Rainy Lake. An island is no safe wall against the craziness and troubles of the world. But it is a reminder that there is only so much we can control or influence. And thunderstorms billowing above are similar reminders.