Journal

This page is a sample of some of my reflections, songs, videos, and photos. If you’d like to see current posts, please check out my Instagram page, where I’m pretty active these days. I like to share personal thoughts that will inspire and encourage others to step out of their comfort zones and dream about all the possibilities in their lives.

“Sunset” 6/12/22

It seems that life has become so crazy, hectic, uncertain, depressing, violent, upsetting, angry, etc…the list could go on and on. I’m trying to stay informed about things happening in the world, but still keep my peace of mind about it all too. Turning everything off and going outside is the best thing for me these days. There’s nothing like taking a quiet walk in the woods (or around the block) to look at flowers and listen to the birds. They always calm my spirit, slow me down, and remind me of the simple beauty of life.

Another busy season begins today, and I have to focus on my real job for a while. I’m so happy to still be in a vibrant outdoor community, surrounded by so many wonderful people. I’m looking forward to getting back to the Boundary Waters in a few weeks too. Meanwhile, enjoy these photos and a song inspired by the amazing sights of the North Woods of Minnesota. The pictures were taken mostly on Seagull and Saganaga Lakes on the east side of the BWCA just north of Grand Marais. I hope you enjoy the music and photos.

“Singing at Sunrise” 6/23/22

I got up early and took a walk down the gravel road this morning. Along the way, I couldn’t help but notice the cheerful call of a solitary bird high overhead. Its happy song was bright and cheerful with varied chirps, chatters, tweets, and chirrs of every kind. When I tried to catch a glimpse of the feather-brained friend up above, all I could see were bright green leaves shining in the morning sun.

He continued to sing happily, as if overjoyed at his current state of affairs. After all, he had the biggest and best tree to perch in with a fine view of the entire world down below. It was a perfect day too. The sunlight was softly gleaming through the tapestry of fresh new leaves. The air was calm and crisp. The sky was bright and blue as a few feathery tufts of white cirrus clouds drifted eastward. A thin sliver of a waxing moon was even hanging low in the west as it slowly faded into the morning sky.

I was so impressed with the bird’s incessant singing that I walked back to the house to get my phone. I’d just installed an app that could identify birds by the calls they made, and I was excited to try it out. When I came back, the bird was still there, and to my delight, I could see it too. It had moved to a high branch at the top of the tree and was happily singing its little heart out. Immediately, the app identified it as a gray catbird. It was indeed gray, but why a catbird?

As I listened, I noticed that it had a few distinctive calls that quickly rose and fell in pitch. They were interspersed with a variety of short tweets and toots that came so quickly that I could barely keep up. Thankfully, the catbird repeated its song over and over again, and I gradually began to catch on to the rapid string of notes. This is what I heard…

As I listened, my new friend abruptly stopped singing and took to flight, or more precisely, it dropped like a rock, then flapped its wings just once, and made a long swooping arch down into a flowering bush nearby. To get a closer look, I crept closer to the bush where the bird was hopping around, probably trying to get a closer look at me as well. When I was about ten feet away, the bird suddenly jumped up higher in its bushy hideout and eyed me from behind the leaves. It was impossible to make it out, but I could still hear it plainly.

The bird wasn’t singing cheerfully as before. Instead, it just cooed softly from inside the bush nearby. Over and over, it repeated a cautious “meow” as it hid behind the leaves. I wondered if it had a nest in there, so I took another step forward. At that, the bird hastily made its escape and flew off into the forest about a hundred feet away to the south. I could hear it frantically talking to itself back in the safety of the dark woods, and kicked myself at scaring it away.

I sadly retreated to a picnic table by the road and sat down to wait and try to regain its trust. A few seconds later, the forgiving bird swooped out of the woods and flew back up to its favorite perch high overhead. When I glanced up, I could feel it eyeing me with bold curiosity. I think it realized that it was again safe from the hapless earthbound intruder far below, because it hopped up to a branch even farther out on the tree and resumed its cheerful chorus of chirps, chatters, and chirrs.

I listened for a few more minutes in silent wonder. I couldn’t sing as beautifully as the little gray catbird, but its song made my heart feel happy inside. It was a nice start to another busy week at camp, and I would carry that moment with me for the remainder of the day. I returned later that afternoon to check on my new friend, but he was nowhere to be seen or heard. I wondered about it and determined to visit on the following morning to listen to his joy-filled sermon once more. I knew that it would be totally worth it, knowing that he had taught me so much already.

“Walking the Trails” 5/22/22

Walking the trails around camp this spring has led to some new discoveries as well as some old favorites too. As I go about my work, I can’t help but stop and enjoy these amazing beauties from time to time springing up all over the place. I hope you enjoy the virtual tour. (For info about each flower, see the notes below the photos.)

Large bushes of Tartarian honeysuckles displayed in varying shades of pink, orange, and white give off a sweet smell alongside many of the trails and roads at camp, One gets used to seeing them, but still, they are so pretty, especially upon a closer look.
The camp staff planted a couple of bright yellow lupines in the butterfly garden last week. These were in full bloom before we put them in the ground, with other little shoots looking to arrive in a few days to a week from now.
Clusters of Wild Geranium are scattered through the thick forest floor, the first usually being solitary, but soon to be followed by more small clusters of them.
A rare discovery in a damp, dark hollow in the woods near Night Camp. I was told this is a variety of Wild Orchis. I’ve never seen these around camp before, so it was quite a treat.
One of my favorite wildflowers at camp, this cluster of Sweet Cicely will soon bear a cluster of green banana-like fruits, which when snapped in half, smell just like black licorice. They say the juice makes your tongue go numb too.
This was a surprising find deep in the woods. I don’t know my fungi, but this one seemed to demand my attention, so I stopped to admire the little cluster for a while…as well as its tiny twin coming up at its base.
Sometimes the most common wildflower in the field is so incredibly beautiful when you take the time to examine it closely. I pull dandelions out of my lawn at home all the time, but at camp, they grow unhindered in abundance. The pair of green cuckoo wasps seem to find them irresistible too.
You have to crouch down and look under the two large umbrella-like leaves to get a good view of the May Apple flower, which will produce a small green apple-like fruit that is toxic to eat, but then edible when it turns yellow and fully ripe. When that happens, I don’t think I’d ever risk trying it anyway.