A busy day on the landing yesterday. Zane got to see the purple decomposers before the blocks were split into smaller pieces. We had a visitor again! A hairy woodpecker taking advantage of the abundant grubs and insects falling out of the logs! Jen and I had one visit the other day on the other landing. Probably a different one but my imagination wants to believe it’s the same one.He (or she?) drawn by the sounds of our activities. A type of symbiotic connection. Food for the woodpecker and enjoyment for us.The decomposers are a different sort of symbiotic relationship. Not with the dead wood but through their connection with us.That’s a little more difficult to explain at the moment. Suffice it to say I have reached a tiny place of peace in the lost mixed forest. To say they are just trees would underscore my connection. I walked beneath these giants of the farm as a boy. Stood in their shade to catch my breath in the dog days of summer as I searched for missing cattle. Drilled and set the taps into them with the thrill of anticipation. The coming days of “ torture” in a full on syrup season. Watched them suffer ice storms and the first major tent worm infestation. Yet still they survived these silent monarchs of the rocky ridges. I watched them age as I watched my father age. I too would age. But new growth sprouted and took root. Saplings and a toddling boy would enter the forest setting. We’d lose trees a few at a time just as we would lose those we loved. The seasons would cycle. Many things would change. The trees would begin to symbolize something far greater. This is a story like no other. Years in the making. Far from over in hope and faithful determination. One to write with hidden messages. Observations and openness of heart. A far bigger picture waits to show itself to us. And the tiny decomposers begin to open the closed doors to let us pass through.
Monthly Archives: November 2020
Bog River Flow
Posted on by gwadmin
The beautiful warm weather continued yesterday and we took full advantage of all it might offer! Jennifer backed my decision to head to Bog River Flow. It’s a bit of a drive but well worth the time! My motives were premeditated. This would be our third autumn trip since we started our journey together! I sought to put us into an adventure that would bring peace and relaxation while giving us a pause to reflect on our time together. But let’s be totally honest! I knew there would be a great selection of beaver sticks also!What transpired was a day that was filled with sensory overload. Calm stretches of dark water with stunning reflections. The shadowy sections of forest bringing the damp smell of balsam and pine to our nostrils as the midday sun continued to warm it. Signs of wildlife around us. Chattering red squirrels and a couple scurrying gray squirrels on the fallen leaves of the forest floor. The occasional lone duck who would take flight with a sudden burst of energy. But there were other signs of wildlife to notice.Beaver chewed sticks and mud covered lodges.Carefully piled brush piles nearby as they prepared for a winter trapped below the coming ice. Muskrat droppings on logs and rocks. Their feed beds a little less obvious but tucked into crannies along side old stumps and logs. We traveled up to the beach landing at the end of Hitchin’s Pond. Only a few other paddlers whom we easily avoided but gave a friendly wave. The collection of beaver sticks began before we beached below the tail race of the upper dam. We stopped for our lunch on the cobble stone walls of the former Lowe’s compound. History that nature is slowly reclaiming. We had history here as well. On a much shorter timeline. It was here in this beautiful Adk setting in 2018 that I began to truly realize the depth of my burgeoning feelings for my tall lovely companion. It’s a story worthy of its own book especially the memories of our first hike to the Hitchin’s Pond overlook. We hiked the trail again yesterday together.Took photos and shared some memories..The world has changed dramatically since 2018 but some things have not. The bare rock surfaces of the overlook solid as ever. Jennifer’s new knees and my healed pelvic injury behind us.The distant high peaks gray and prominent on the horizon. And as I had done each time I had hiked to this special location a pause for quiet reflections. Of days past. The present. Thoughts on the future. Recharged and empowered in hope for all that nature holds in trust. Simple blessings.Once more to take the high ground. Together. The tiny gusts of warm air that fuel the spirit spin. That place where the mind of Taz takes the reins and connects to everything in a sixth sense moment of the now.The ADK clock would hint at the coming darkness.Part of a season headed for the next solstice.There a spin of another kind. Where active beaver prepare for winter. That’s part two of a wonder filled day!
