THERE ARE COUNTLESS pathways in life. And each step we take, intentional or otherwise, leads us further down the path we are on, or towards a fork and yet another choice. For Kathy and me, our paths led to each other and, eventually, down this little lane to an old log cabin in a place we call The Church O’
ALL THE CONGREGATION at our humble Church O’The Pines send you warmest wishes for a happy and blessed Thanksgiving. The Three Crows send them. And the Seven Deer. The acrobat squirrels, both red and gray, leaping from limb to limb. The nuthatches send their good wishes, as do the sartorially splendid blue jays. The chickadees, of course, in their sweetest
IT IS A LOVELY morning under the pines, the sun rising over the Father of Waters. I wanted to share with you one of the most beautiful pieces of choral music I know of. But I am biased. Very. It is an old recording, and there is a bit of tape hiss, although after a few moments you can ignore
I WAS INFORMED TODAY that a wonderful young woman is composing “A Paddler’s Symphony”, using words and reflections from some of my wilderness writings like “Paddle Whispers.” What a great idea—A Paddler’s Symphony! I look forward to more information to come. Meanwhile, here is a passage (and drawing) from Paddle Whispers: “Sometimes the best paddling is in the evening. If
THE CHURCH O’ THE PINES is frosted, dusted, iced, and covered with snow this morning. All the congregation seems to be taking it in stride. Except for The Three Crows, who are in an uproar over some imagined slight or inconvenience. Everyone else carries on with aplomb. The Deacon Pines are beginning to shake the snow off their shoulders. The
TODAY WE MARK Veterans Day, and honor the service of generations of Americans who stood and fought for their country. Many to ‘the last full measure of devotion.’ We especially honor what they stood FOR, and hope against hope that American democratic values and traditions, threatened these days as seldom before, will withstand the challenge of all enemies, foreign AND
IN THE NORTH WOODS, ghostly aspen trunks beneath a gray November sky. Snow is on the way. Everything is beautiful. Long, long ago, the Anishinabe hero, Nanabozho, feeling playful, stole a tail feather from the Thunderbird. Thunderbird, not feeling playful, chased the swift Nanabozho through the forest. Every place his wings grazed a white aspen trunk, they left a dark,
IT IS A BEAUTIFUL SUNDAY MORNING, and scary forces are abroad in the land. And we aren’t talking about Halloween. Liars and the followers of liars stomp around the landscape causing vast amounts of consternation and destruction. Here at the Church o’the Pines we tell the truth. Mostly. Unless it is inadequate for the situation. Once in a while a
HERE AT THE CHURCH O’ THE PINES it is a chilly overcast morning. The antique barometer on the wall says the pressure is immense. As always. But the chickadees sing merrily, which is the only way they know how to sing. The blue jays are obstreperous. As always. The Caretakers temporarily ran out of the $12-an-ounce suet, and the woodpeckers
TODAY WE RECEIVED a guided tour, from the Executive Director, of Osprey Wilds Environmental Learning Center, with special emphasis on their new 100 acre farm. It is sustainable and restorative, featuring pasture, woods, outdoor and indoor gardens, prairie and pollinator fields, grass fed cattle and much more to come. Farm-to-Table, deluxe. The Center has added well over 200 acres in