Day after perfect day.
The Rock River, above, is still out of its banks, but rapidly returning to its normal fall state.
Pax and I, having business in Fort, walked some of it and just a little of the Glacial River Trail.
And this evening I had the opportunity of talking Ellie to riding lessons where she rode like a champ, including one stretch bare back.
Bright and chilly for an hour-long big loop walk in the morning; then sunny and warm for a bike/run to the prairie in the late afternoon. (Some chores interleaved between the two.)
The willow holds on to its green.
Rather liked this poem, and it is interesting to note that thanks to people like George Church this lost species is being brought back into existence.
When glaciers trapped a third of Earth’s water and drained the Bering Strait, humans
journeyed to this land where wind swept the steppes of snow, exposing grass
that would be plucked by mammoth trunks and ground by washboard teeth.
Up to thirteen feet, their tusks curved helically and would intertwine if they went on
a little longer. The beasts’ dense hair—brown, blonde, or ginger—swung like a skirt
about their flanks. I want to rest my head against that shaggy coat, to crane
my ears, to be protected from the giant short-faced bear. I want to be
their baby, wrap my trunk around my mother’s, watch the wild horses of Beringia
canter across the steppes in tawny, fine-boned movements. The thick fat
under my hair keeps me warm when the sun goes low, and I grow into
an eight-ton bull, pierce the ice with my tusks and drink from glacial pools.
The wind is bitter, but my strongest features have grown bigger than my father’s.
When summer comes I must find a mate, and it only takes a few tusk locks to show
my strength. After our calf is born, I see upright creatures eyeing him from the mesa.
I will fling them against the icy mountains. They wear our hair as if it were
their skin. Still, I will live through many winters, through each warm season’s
hardheaded matches. I know the range that slopes like the hump on my back, sunsets
redder than the long-toothed cat’s gorging mouth, how musk oxen form a wall of horns
and still fall prey to the blade thrown. I know how many herds have fled, and the curves
of carcasses stripped to bone by men, wind, and time. I do not know that I am gone.With the big 5 at Busy Barns. Perfect day for it.
Good fun. Thanks to Mimi for some of the photos.
Fierce north wind, with ice pellets and a little snow.
But Ellie, Maddie, and Becca over for some afternoon fun, and then a sleep-over.
Mimi did pretty well, too.
...which actually are a good thing when you are a retired teacher, and today resulted in Katy and Will visiting us in Whitewater for some bike riding and lots of ping-pong. (Ping-pong is the thing these days.)
Everyone was so busy that no one took any photos. Therefore this one from a few days ago:
A dark and damp day, but not so bad as to preclude biking and some time at the playground.
Actually, there is one photo. Thanks to Abby.
Storm windows to be exact.
...flowers in the fall.
Fascinating shrub. Flowers are little filaments of yellow. Oddly enough, the plant has both this year’s flowers and last year’s maturing fruit on board at the same time. And the fruit capsule is explosive and can eject the seed up to thirty feet. (Note: none of us here have been struck by flying seeds.) The leaves and bark can be macerated and distilled into an astringent decoction. Maybe, someday, the bottle in the bathroom will be replaced by a bit of home-brew.
Perfect for yard work and computer work, including a bit of writing.
Perfect also for a good long sit on the back patio as the sun was sliding down in the west.
On an outing, Pax and I visited the lovely, volunteer built Haumerson’s Pond ice skating warming house in Fort, which is only a year old. Halloween festivities have been cancelled, and it looks like some dry weather will be necessary before freeze-up.
Rather quiet, rather slow.
Niki headed back towards St. Paul (after a fun visit), and Sue down helping Irene after her hip surgery. Pax and I took our first big loop walk since arriving back here from Kagawong, and we both enjoyed it. Then in the afternoon we followed the old routine of a bike ride/run to and around the prairie.
Chilly and breezy, and now a fire in the breezeway stove.
...in the park and prairie.
Pax and Ari having fun together.
Listening to Chicken Salad Chick on the How I Built This podcast, and, after dinner (which includes home grown squash) , watching the new Netflix cooking show Salt, Fat, Acid, Heat.
Forgot to mention world famous waffles for breakfast.
Photo by Nik
Photo by Nik
...and so much more.
Catching up with the Nies family.
Lots of fun there.
Cold and gray outside. Rosemary moved indoors.
Visit to Foxpoint.
The weather has turned. Rosemary covered tonight as frost precaution.
...but still not the kind of weather you’d hope for in October in Wisconsin.
Pax and I got in a bit of a bike ride as the rain was moving out, and came across lots of purple aster, which pretty much wraps up the prairie’s seasonal flowering.
And then the hickory tree where we try to scavenge nuts every fall, only to be outdone by squirrels and weevils. We did find a few whole nuts without weevil holes. We’ll have to see if they float.
Pretty much everything sorted and stowed. Too hot and buggy to check the garden. On an afternoon bike ride I watched a biggish cloud float my way figuring it was mostly scenic, but no—totally drenched.
Lovely Kentucky Coffee Tree in the park
Forty-four in St. Iggy on departure, eighty-four in Whitewater on arrival.
And then, once here, more lifting, dragging, and shuffling. About 7 hours on the road, over half of it in rain. Flooded fields all down through Wisconsin, and the Rock and Crawfish rivers both way out of their banks.
Still, it is good be done with traveling for a while, and good to be settling in for the season.
...from Kagawong to Saint Ignace. Some bright color against long gray skies.
It takes a village to pull a waterline
Waterline pulled, everything drained and antifreezed. Not super fun, but not the total worst. Done by noon, but departure delayed until 12:30 while we searched for the missing garage key.
And that’s it for this year.
... and so have we.
Tamia spent a good part of the day excavating the center of this old stump right outside the back door. She would dive in, grab a mouthful of dirt, pop back up, spit up her load, scratch it behind her, and go back for more. Will this be a new winter home, or perhaps a larder hoard for all the delectables that are being cast outside?
Last cookout—no chairs available
And for us, this may be the worst day of the season, although we have to wait to see what tomorrow and shutdown of the water system brings. Infinite number of end of the season chores, most of which involve heavy lifting.
Strong blow from northeast with big surf. Cold, Be well advised to keep out of the wind. Major cleaning, organizing, packing, stowing kind of a day. Second worst day of the season, in other words.
Photo from yesterday
...following last night’s storm, which dropped perhaps 3 inches of rain. The Susie Pea, which was upright, almost full to the brim.
Super high water this morning, then low water at noon, then high water again by dinner time.
Photos by Sue.
Here’s my “newsy” article for the Expositor:
From Manitoulin To Madeline
The 2018 Great Lakes Islands “Summit”
By Jim Nies
At its annual “summit” meeting, October 1 and 2, the Great Lakes Islands Alliance (GLIA) (formerly called the Great Lakes Islands Coalition) celebrated its second birthday and formally adopted the Charter it has been working on the past year.
This document has as its mission: building relationships, fostering information exchange, and leveraging resources “to address shared challenges and embrace opportunities to benefit islands.” One of its key goals is to” amplify island voices to mainland audiences.”
The “summit” brought over 80 representatives, from thirteen year-round-inhabited islands, to beautiful Madeline Island, a 20 minute ferry ride from the village of Bayfield, Wisconsin, in far western Lake Superior (surrounded by the Apostle Islands National Lakeshore). Jim Nies and Joe Shorthouse represented the Manitoulin Island GLIA team.
Also participating and providing support were the Michigan Office of the Great Lakes, Northland College, and the Island Institute—all the way from Rockland, Maine.
Apparent on arrival was the immense amount of preparatory work done by the Madeline Island planning committee—effective agenda, a lovely meeting place, free lodging for those needing it, fabulous food, opportunities for socializing and networking, even guided tours of the island.
Highlighting the first day of the conference was the keynote presentation by Peter Annin, author of The Great Lakes Water Wars. This book has become the definitive work on the history of attempts to divert Great Lakes water outside the basin, and on the Great Lakes Compact, the legislation that seeks to prevent it. Peter brought the revised and newly released second edition with him which now details the “war” now going on in southeast Wisconsin with the Waukesha, Foxconn, and Pleasant Prairie diversion issues.
After-dinner entertainment included a musical review featuring whacky island tourist questions. And then the representatives from Pelee Island performed a wild and wonderful island trivia game in which the prizes were bottles of that island’s most famous product.
Tuesday’s breakout sessions (in-depth discussions) were devoted to Sustainable Energy, Water Levels, Affordable Housing, and Economic Development. Subcommittees have been formed to compile resources (including grant funding opportunities) in each of these areas and will be available to all GLIA members.
As a member of GLIA, Manitoulin also has access to Maine’s Island Institute, which has been working to improve the lives of Maine islanders for 25 years. The Institute has, among other things, assisted small business development, advanced aquaculture, brought high speed broadband to the islands, helped islands dramatically reduce energy costs and convert to sustainable sources, and has lead planning for climate change adaptation.
“Great Lakes islands have a lot in common with Maine islands,” said John Allen, director of the Michigan Office of the Great Lakes. According to Allen, what the Institute is doing is profound, insightful, and totally in tune with their communities. “We want some of that, too—to help our island communities in a meaningful way.”
Next year’s “summit” conference will be held on Mackinac Island. And the year after that—possibly Manitoulin?
If you are interested in islands, the Great Lakes, love Manitoulin, and would like to be part of the Manitoulin GLIA team, please email : editor@manitoulin.ca
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