THE LETTER THAT CHANGED MY LIFE, and the next step… Today I am feeling grateful. Tidying up a storage area in the cabin, sorting through materials from my 12 years as president of the Listening Point Foundation, I was powerfully reminded of the profound effect that beloved North Country author Sigurd Olson had on my life. That connection began with
WONDERFUL NEWS! On September 8, I posted the story of finding a juvenile Cooper’s Hawk stunned and injured on a sidewalk outside the Stay Fit Gym here in Sartell. Standing guard and asking folks to give the bird a wide berth, I called my friend Elaine Thrune, a wildlife rehabilitator. Elaine arrived quickly and with a bit of subterfuge and
LITTLE STREAM, I can still hear you calling, though my footsteps may take me far away; through the seasons you’re rising and falling; young and old each new day, you move along but you stay, and I thank you for passing my way.
HERE AT The Church O The Pines, we make no differentiation between nature and the realm of the sacred. We believe that heaven ‘is as much under our feet as over our heads.’ We agree with the Zen poet who said, “Green trees, fragrant grasses… a place not sacred? Where?” We know that human beings are natural creatures, as much
WITH THE KIDS and grandkids gone, the white throated sparrows and many of the loons gone, and Kathy at home, it is up to me to drive north and drop by the island one last time. To check and double check locks and latches and odds and ends, to say a last goodbye to the ‘dear old cabin’ (99 years
TWO CELEBRATIONS: Of colors. Of friends. Yesterday Kathy and I decided to find some close-to-home autumn colors. So off to the St. John’s woods we traipsed. Through the old stone arch and down the trail. And were richly rewarded. Every few steps produced an ‘Ooh’ or an ‘Ah’ or a ‘Look at that!’ A celebration of the sights and sounds
TO CELEBRATE the equinox and the arrival of fall, Kathy and I took a little day trip to view the colors and to visit the North Shore. It was a misty, foggy, windy, rainy day but the Big Lake—as always—was spectacular. The best colors? Well, right here around home. For another post…
HOME FROM RAINY LAKE, it is good to be back to the little cabin in the woods we call the Church o’ the Pines. Good to see and hear the humble congregation, hooved, feathered, finned, furred, rooted, and blooming. All seem to acknowledge the changing of the season. The first colors touch the maples and ashes. The squirrels seem even
IN SEPTEMBER, when the speedsters and noise-makers have mostly gone, the lake and the island belong once more to the silence. To the timeless and the sense of wonder. In that silence, from the old deck on the rocks, one can hear the chuckling of wavelets on the shore, the last wails of the remaining loons, and almost, perhaps, the
SUNDAY IS a good day to care for bonsais. Perhaps to admire them from my Grandad’s old green-painted Adirondack chair, over 60 years old. This little tree, in a semi-windswept style, reminds me to bend with the winds and storms of life. That being ‘big’ isn’t the most important thing. That being your truest, best self is a good definition