IF ONE OWNS or inhabits a piney woods, it is incumbent upon you to go for walks in the woods. It is a sin, in fact, if you do not. At least according to the Church O’ The Pines rulebook. And when you go for a walk it is only good form to take a walking stick. An old one.
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
THESE ARE interesting times. When we have over 40% of the country happily abandoning every value and virtue they were raised in and once believed in, instead following a Pied Piper of mayhem who says, “It’s great! You can say anything and do ANYTHING and nothing happens. Don’t be suckers! Follow me!!” When we have an entire political party of
TO CELEBRATE the equinox and the arrival of fall, Kathy and I took a little day trip to view the colors and to visit the North Shore. It was a misty, foggy, windy, rainy day but the Big Lake—as always—was spectacular. The best colors? Well, right here around home. For another post…
IT IS NOT SUNDAY, but at the Church O The Pines the sanctuary is always open for moments of peace, and renewal, and spiritual reflection.… The chipmunks agree to this, as do the deer, bluejays, crows, chickadees, foxes, squirrels, and hummingbirds. Even the wandering local bear. In fact, all the members of our humble congregation believe that doors should always
AS WE FINISHED OUR Road Scholar trip into Voyageurs National Park, we looked down the lake, down the historic narrows into the past, and there glimpsed a brigade of voyageurs. They raised their paddles in salute, then continued paddling into the pages of history. And our little band of travelers bade goodby to the Canoe Country, taking home with them
A GRAND ROAD SCHOLAR DAY in Voyageurs National Park, as we were fortunate to have friend and head Park Interpretive Ranger Mark Miller as our interpreter/guide, with another friend Captain John as our boat pilot, to Kettle Falls and back. The skies cleared, the breezes blew, the sun shone. We stopped at enchanting I. W. Stephens Island, where Mr. Stephens
SO UP THE NORTH SHORE we went, on our Road Scholar expedition, making favorite stops, doing favorite hikes. Gooseberry Falls, Split Rock Lighthouse, Tettegouch, Shovel Point. But when it drew near time for dinner—at one of my favorite haunts—The Northwoods Family Grill in Silver Bay—the call came on my cell phone. Both our cooks are out, we can’t serve you,
AT THE CHURCH O THE PINES it is a gray and slightly gloomy August morn, but no one seems to mind. The bluejays shout their names and utter all manner of other vocalizations. Chickadees announce their name as well. (Evidently it is a thing in our church to arrive broadcasting your own name.) Goldfinches sing sweetly. Chipmunks chip and woodpeckers
I WAS UP EARLY, but Sarah had been up long before. She was at the water’s edge, sitting on a shoreline boulder, looking out at the little island where the mist shrouded the pines. Sarah was the first one up every morning in the group I was guiding, and she was the last one into the tent at night. She