Original anecdotes, commentary, rumination, and occasional pontification.
DECEMBER 16, 2021 – My first glimpse of the Vale of Kashmir surpassed what the guidebooks had promised—blossoming fruit trees on the shores of Dal Lake, the glistening Himalayas jutting into blue infinity above the world. I stayed for only three weeks, but the memories are as vivid today as my actual experiences were that …
NOVEMBER 30, 2021 – In our front yard stand a clump of three birch trees that now tower over our house. When I planted them umpteen years ago, they were small enough to transport home by sticking them up through the open sunroof of our car. I noticed recently that blustery weather had peeled off …
NOVEMBER 29, 2021 – Yesterday our son and daughter-in-law took us on an excursion between their hometown of Chester and down river to Essex, Connecticut. We took side routes and backroads for a closer look at this old part of New England. Our trip included breakfast at The Whistle Stop café, a cozy, local establishment …
NOVEMBER 14, 2021 – Snow fell overnight and stuck. It was a warm-up (“cool-down”?) for what lies ahead. I used to feel excited and frustrated with the first snow—excited by the approaching ski season; frustrated that the first dusting of snow wouldn’t be skiable. In my (halcyon) dinosaur days, winter couldn’t last long enough. With …
NOVEMBER 11, 2021 – Over the past week our neighborhood has been out in force raking leaves before moderate weather goes . . . south. All the rakers have transformed our local world into a live-action Norman Rockwell gallery. In addition to the rakes, however, are godforsaken leaf blowers, prompting me to mutter on several …
NOVEMBER 9, 2021 – As squirrels prepare for winter, fall is when they act most . . . squirrelly. Late the other day, however, while strolling down our alley, I caught a squirrel napping conspicuously on a tree limb barely 10 feet off the ground. Perhaps, I thought, the squirrel was resting after a hard …
NOVEMBER 8, 2021 – Over the weekend, I stapled bud caps onto another 400 white pine seedlings and saplings in the “tree garden” up at the lake. It’s been an annual project since I manually planted a few hundred seedlings in woodland acreage that’d been harvested seven years ago. The work is necessary to protect …
OCTOBER 10, 2021 – Thirty miles from the Red Cabin, I stopped to buy a Subway sandwich. After grabbing the goods, I realized that I’d been subjected to . . . unnecessarily loud music. I wondered, For what purpose was it so loud? To keep the minimum-wage workers sufficiently alert not to confuse sliced cheese …
OCTOBER 3, 2021 – A friend recently gave me Bob Woodward’s bone-chilling book, Peril, in which he details how America nearly cratered last January. Yesterday, after plunging into the book, I realized that to avoid cerebral explosion, I’d have to take a break; far better for mental and physical health to be lost in the …
OCTOBER 2, 2021 – This year we’ve seen extraordinary loon- and eagle-activity on our lake. Along our shoreline, especially, eagles have been loud, busy, and majestic. Loons, meanwhile, have dominated the waters and developed unusual familiarity with humans passing by aboard pontoons. Little action has been caught on camera. Loons and eagles are much too …
SEPTEMBER 30, 2021 – Yesterday I talked about celestial majesty—the beauty of the Milky Way, the wonder of the cosmos. Today, the subject is . . . your anus. I’m joking, of course. I meant “urine—us,” which is how astronomers pronounce the problematic name of the seventh planet of our solar system, spelled U-r-a-n-u-s. I’ve …
SEPTEMBER 29, 2021 – Yesterday evening I joined two of my sibs and a brother-in-law for dinner at the cabin of Björnholm. It was a simple and splendid affair—the four of us, seated around the oak table, partaking in bowls of chickpea stew accompanied by Swedish flatbread and a recording of Alfred Brendel playing in …
SEPTEMBER 20, 2021 – My wife rode home earlier with our weekend guests. Hours later, I loaded the car and departed from the Red Cabin. Once I’d transitioned from local, sleepy roads to byways south and west, I imagined myself sitting alone in a compartment aboard a long-distance train hurtling across foreign lands. I luxuriated …
SEPTEMBER 13, 2021 – When I hike the trails through my tree garden, I take incremental measures to weed out the prolix, wild raspberry bushes. I love cultivated raspberries and miss the ones that used to grow in our backyard at home. The wild ones, however, are a different animal . . . er, plant. …
SEPTEMBER 8, 2021 – While hiking recently on our “back 40” I encountered a patch of wild strawberries. It reminded me of Wild Strawberries by famous Swedish filmmaker, Ingmar Bergman. I first “experienced” Bergman’s films while I was a student at Interlochen Arts Academy—by name and curricula, an “artsy-fartsy” establishment. It was attended by many students …
SEPTEMBER 6, 2021 – During a woodland walk yesterday in the reaches behind the Red Cabin, my wife and I encountered a formal sign marking the entrance to Grindstone Woods Conservancy, 70-acres of undeveloped land that lie behind us and adjoining property owners along the northwest shore of Grindstone Lake. The sign was crafted by …
SEPTEMBER 4, 2021 – When Ida unleashed her fury on the Northeast earlier in the week (after wreaking havoc over Louisiana), in just one hour over three inches of rain fell in New York City’s Central Park. This was a record. What I found most disturbing about this is that the record it broke had …
SEPTEMBER 3, 2021 – Late yesterday afternoon, after a day of business and busy-ness, I took to the woods to do some trail work. As the light faded behind an overcast sky, I repaired to the dock and peered at the windswept lake. Not a single boat—underway or stationary—appeared on the water. I scanned the …
SEPTEMBER 1, 2021 – When I prepared to escape Monday afternoon, I collected what I’d need for a week of isolation at the Red Cabin—food, phone, tools, clothing, computer, et cetera. After 120 miles, however, I remembered what I’d forgotten: my journal and The Hidden Life of Trees by Peter Wohlleben. I felt like an …
AUGUST 31, 2021 – Yesterday, my wife and I fell into a funk over issues that divide the country. One matter was the pandemic, brought home by the advisability of me getting a Covid test—and quarantining. Thank goodness we have the Red Cabin, and of course, my wife and I are fully vaccinated. I made …
AUGUST 23, 2021 – I first cordoned off the crime scene. I accomplished this figuratively, visualizing a “NO GO” zone (except for myself) within a 20-foot radius of the base of the sign. Next, I examined the sign itself for clues. Except for the popped rivets and 90-degree bend in the stake, the sign itself …
AUGUST 22, 2021 – Yesterday I took a hike in the tree garden of Björnholm. It was my inspection since our recent three-week road trip to New England. The day was beautiful—warm, sunny, with a breeze off the lake and reaching into the woods With hand-clippers I tamed the more aggressive raspberry bushes that had …
AUGUST 15, 2021 – (Cont.) The surrounding beauty was created by millions of years of geologic forces and biological evolution. We spent much of the day hiking through this dynamic painting, absorbing at every step, the dramatic scenery. As nimble as she is intrepid, the harpist who wins wild applause when she tames the most …
AUGUST 14, 2021 – As a biting fly in the car kept me alert, we hurtled west on I80 across Pennsylvania and Ohio to Friday’s destination just beyond Toledo. The day had begun in Cragsmoor, NY, 90 minutes from Manhattan. Our proximity to Gotham reminded me of things that people back home in Minnesota have …
AUGUST 7, 2021 – For me and a family member of far greater stature than I, today starts yet another year around the sun. Yesterday, I closed out my 66th year with an excursion up the Connecticut shore from Old Saybrook to Watch Hill, RI, then back to our base in Chester. Highlights included a …