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
ALL THE MEMBERS of the Church O’ The Pines were excited this week, as temperatures soared and spring breezes blew. The eagles chirped loudly from their nest tree, and chickadees sang their two-note, ‘Spring’s here’ mating song. Down at the river bank, male hooded mergansers practiced their sweet little growling sounds to attract the attention of impressionable females. Sparky the
SOMETIMES, here at the Church O’ The Pines, when a gibbous moon dangles among the limbs of the tall timber, I can almost imagine I am camped on some old, favorite campsite, deep in the North Country wilderness. Of course, this is a favorite campsite, too; and in the times of Zebulon Pike and Schoolcraft, this, too, was wilderness. And
THIS MORNING AT THE CHURCH O THE PINES, the Father of Waters is booming and cracking as new river-ice forms. In this warm open winter the making of ice has seemed less common than the melting of it. With the Church thermostat turned down for the moment the sounds of winter have returned. Even with the colder temps the sun
AT THE CHURCH O THE PINES, it is a day for truths. As all days are. Truth. Truth. Truth. Truth. It is repeated over and over, from every tree, every animal and bird, every cloud passing overhead, every whispering breeze. The message never varies, and never is there so much as an interruption for a lie. And one is suddenly,
AT THE CHURCH O THE PINES, it is a fine morning. Old Man River ripples and sparkles. The blue jays—not the most melodious members of the choir—nevertheless are singing their parts with gusto. The deer have been by for their morning snack in Fellowship Hall. And the chickadees, as always, chat and gossip sweetly. The Keeper of the thermostat has
MAN’S INHUMANITY to man is a story as old as humanity itself. One of the places we go to find hope, respite and relief is Church. Yet we humans ostracize each other, stab and shoot each other, cut off one another’s heads and bomb one another, because of which church we attend. Here by the Mississippi River on the edge
ON THIS SUNDAY MORN I am back within the friendly confines of the Church O The Pines. It is a good feeling to return after a wonderful week guiding Road Scholars in SE Minnesota’s Bluff Country/Driftless Area. We call the trip Birds and Blossoms, as we haunt the woods, streams, and bottomlands of the great Mississippi flyway. On this particular