what is it about the rain
that somehow seems
to soothe my pain?
the pitter-patter pelts impart
a certain solace to my heart.
now the plans
that i had made
are temporarily delayed,
but i don’t mind;
i won’t complain–
in fact, it feels
right as rain.
–photo by me
summer fades away
like a worn-out pair of jeans–
patchy memories
–photo by me
My son and I live on Wilderness Avenue near Lake of the Woods in Minnesota. If you follow it past our place, you’ll find that it soon turns into a dirt road that plunges directly into the heart of the dense Beltrami Forest for 40 or 50 miles before coming out near Red Lake.
We’ve driven through it a number of times in the middle of the day, and I wasn’t particularly impressed with the wildlife. However, about two weeks ago we started driving out there early in the morning so my son could climb a ranger tower for exercise. (He runs up and down it like 3 or 4 times while I go half-way up once.) Anyway, since we’ve been going out there in the wee hours of the morn, we’ve seen a bear, a moose, several fox, a marten, innumerable grouse, and this morning–a Canadian lynx and her kittens!
I couldn’t get a very good shot as we weren’t prepared. You should’ve seen us panicking; Aaron threw the van in park before we stopped–it was hilarious!
It’s like a whole new environment for photographs. I never knew how lucky I was to live on Wilderness Avenue!
–Photo by me
the stars would
stay hidden away
if it weren’t
for the night,
for each and every day
we’re blinded by light
–photo by me
As I stand here gazing at the sunrise, I’m reminded of all the years I was only able to catch a glimpse of it on my way to work. Now I’m retired, and I couldn’t be more thankful that I’ll never have to miss another. Nature truly is poetry without words.
retirement is wonderful,
and here’s my favorite perk:
i get to watch the day unfold
instead of going to work
–photo by me
hear ye, hear ye,
denizens of the forest:
i’ve called you all here
on this september day
to announce that now
is the time to make ready
for the oncoming winter.
i’m pleased to tell you that
the other squirrels and i
have finished gathering
the acorns, and are ready
to hibernate very soon.
but many of you won’t
have a place to stay
or even food to eat
in the dreadful cold.
some of you will die.
it’s the way of the woods;
it’s what makes us strong.
yes, some won’t make it,
but for the rest of us:
may we meet again
on the other side for
another glorious summer!
goodnight to you all,
my friends of the forest.
–photo by me
–photos by me
i dreamed of
a flock of geese
flying up from
a burning field.
there was a breeze
from the north,
and the geese
were flying south.
like many dreams,
it seems to have
two meanings:
the first is that
winter is coming.
the second is a far
deeper insight–
but let’s just go
with the first.
–photo/art by me
our politicians
use our singular focus
like skilled magicians
–photo by me
a moose on the border frontier
was watching me as i drew near;
i thought she was rude,
and a staredown ensued–
in truth, i was frozen with fear
–photos by me
michaeljordahl 