One Big Idea

Director Mike Nichols once said that if he has a good idea, he quits for the day because he won't get another. I've found that that is true for me, too.

All this week, I knew it was my turn to write a short story for Black Coffee Fiction http://blackcoffeefiction.blogspot.com but the week was so delightfully warm I wanted to be outside.  We gardened, we birded, we canoed.  I procrastinated, only making a few notes about my story and making an outline. I did have a second short story I could use in a pinch, but I want to save that for this summer when writing anything will be more difficult.

This morning, I woke up at 4:30 a.m. and wended my way down the stairs.  I fed the cat.  I ate breakfast.  I read the news.  Then I set to work.  It helped that it was raining so there was nothing going on outside to distract me, not even birds at the feeder.  

On Monday, I mentioned to Wade that though we have been writing our short stories since September, neither of us had written a love story. I asked him, "When did you know you loved your wife?"  That led me to my love story.

I thought about Gary and remembered so many events of our own romance.  I put bits and pieces of those memories together to write "Phenology: A Love Story".  I wrote the story in two hours, finishing about 8:30 a.m.  I put it aside, re-wrote it once and sent it off to the critique group for comments.

Gary and I went to the fitness center, then I took a nap to let the story simmer in my mind.  When I woke up I had Wade's comments and corrections and did the final re-write of the piece which I posted just before 4:00 p.m.  As you read the story, you can hear echoes of how Gary and I became a couple and how I learned to become an environmentalist as he educated me.

Once my story was posted, I did nothing but read and watch television.  I had my big idea and nothing else has been going on, brain-wise.

I plan on writing several more love stories, so tomorrow, I start again. 

March continues to amaze us.  Today the first tulip bloomed.  It's not much of a tulip, just a short scraggly thing,but a promise of more to come.

The daffodils are here, too.  Every year I have around a thousand daffodils in the back yard and that show is about to begin.  People drive by my house just to see them all.

The gardens now are filled with the scent of hyacinths.  It is too dry for them to have filled out completely, but they still do their major job, which is to fill the neighborhood with their sweetness.

Hyacinths can be overpowering, so I never put them in a bouquet. I did that once for a friend and she said she had to get up in the middle of the night and throw the hyacinths out the door.  But outside they are lovely, bringing spring to the Mathom Gardens.

We could use rain.  The Pasque flowers should be a deep purple, but this year they look gray.

The rains are forecast for tomorrow.  The Pasque flowers will get their color and more flowers will bloom.

And all of this in March. 

An Even Earlier Spring

This morning, an e-mail from the Department of Natural Resources greeted me as I had my morning cup of tea.

Originally, Gary and I planned on guarding on April 15, the first available date, we thought.  Then we were moved up to April 8 because of the warm weather.  But the water temperature on the Wolf River kept climbing and now, the DNR wants us to guard the night of March 25, which is three weeks earlier than we had planned.  Since we look at this night as our first camping of the season, it is wonderful to start so soon.  We returned from our last campground on October 15 so that's only a little over five months since we last sat before water to watch the sun set.

The warm weather has hurt some of the garden.  The snow drops are over and the crocuses and dwarf irises are wilting.  The daffodils will be in their full glory by tomorrow, again almost a month early.  Scilla and putchkina have made their appearance, two weeks early.   Neither is doing well in 80 degree F. heat.

I have been busy clearing the gardens.  I needed the wheelbarrow to move lawn trash.  Gary had placed it over a stack of firewood to keep it protected from the winter snow.  It was protecting something else.  When I lifted the wheelbarrow, there was a gray blur of something diving into the logs.  Then it popped out again.  It was a gray field mouse, one of the fattest I've seen.  I suspect he's been helping himself to the seeds that fall from the bird feeders. He just sat there, inches away, looking up at me.  I promised him I would return the wheelbarrow when I was finished.  He seemed to think that was fine and slipped back between the logs to await future developments.  

Word Delivery Systems

After clearing another bed, I drove over to the farm where Gary stores the camper.  He is cleaning it out for our summer's adventures.  

He had the awning pulled out and underneath were comfortable chairs.  I sat down with my Nook and read more of Langston Hughes The Ways of White Folks, a collection of short stories from the 1930's.  These stories illustrate how the races view each other.  They are amusing and sometimes tragic. It seems that race relations have not changed all that much. When I finish the short stories, I'll start a Nevada Barr mystery, also in my electronic book.  

However, that is not the only word delivery system I use.  There are still the paper books, especially good when there are photos involved.  The People of the Sturgeon includes at least one photo per page.  I even know some of the people involved in the care of those giant fish.  I'll be reading this book right up to the time we go on guard duty on April 8. 

Then there are audio books.  I particularly like the Playaway books I get at the Muehl Public Library.  These are compact little cases that hang by a cord around my neck.  When I plug them into a headset, I can listen as I work out at the fitness center.  Listening to a book is preferable to the loud music that blares at us.  

Currently, I'm listening to Umberto Eco's The Prague Cemetery.   This is a grisly tale of conspiracy and espionage in nineteenth century Europe.  There are forgeries, massacres, racism, and plots galore.  It all sounds far-fetched, but in fact it all happened, as I know from listening to a previous Playaway book about the time period.  In this book, however, one fictional character is involved in it all, an evil genius who from time to time stops his plotting to enjoy good meals.  

As long as there are writers sending words my way, I don't mind how they arrive. 

Spring Clearing

I have about forty different flower beds on my property, none of them big, but still, many flowers over the year. Some just bloom here for us, but others will be made up into bouquets for friends.

But first all those beds need to be cleared.

Two years ago, my knee was so  badly damaged that I walked with a cane and wore a knee brace.  That spring, I didn't do much clearing at all.  Last spring, we had rain, rain, more rain, interspersed with snow storms all the way to May. I still had a sore knee though it was improving.  By mid-May, we began our camping trips and of course, I did a six week summer tour.  The result was two years of weeds.  That is what I am trying to rectify this spring.

I've set myself a goal of clearing two beds a day.  If the weather holds, I could have the job done by mid-April, but of course, it is still spring though it seems like summer.  We can still expect snowstorms or rain and then their are those nature adventures that keep cropping up.  

I can only work when I can and hope that by the end of May the gardens are restored to what they once were.

The Early Spring

Warm temperatures are making this an unusual March.  Crocuses, snowdrops, periwinkle,dwarf irises, and pasque flowers have been  blooming in my backyard for several days and the daffodils should pop open in a day or two.

Last year the snowdrops first bloomed on March 20, and were followed almost immediately by 18 inches of snow.  Periwinkle, pasque flower and dwarf iris didn't arrive until mid-April.

I walked over to the sidewalk north of St. John the Baptist Catholic Church this afternoon and found hundreds of violets.  Last year I didn't have violets in my back yard until May.

Last year, the sturgeon in the Wolf River/Lake Winnebago system spawned late. Gary and I found ourselves guarding their rocks in May.

As we do every year, Gary and I sign up for the first day of the guard which this year should have been April 15.  However, this afternoon, the Department of Natural Resources sent out an emergency e-mail to the sturgeon guards asking if we could guard on April 8, Easter.  Sure, we said.  We'll soon be spending the night on the river bank watching passionate sturgeon.  "Hello, ladies," I say every year to our friends.  

Finally, some of my readers might remember that last June I was forced to remove all the flowers in my terrace strip because someone had complained to the city.  It turned into a week long party with friends coming from all over to dig up the strip and move the flowers to new homes.  They are now all over northeast Wisconsin.  Gary roto-tilled the strip twice to make sure that all the flowers were gone.  And that, we thought, was that.

Then this week, greenery came up all over the strip.  Soon there will be tulips, hyacinths, daffodils and irises, and as of today, the crocuses are in bloom.

Should I let the flowers go or have Gary kill everything or brick it all over?  Friends and flower lovers are urging me to let them bloom.

Yes, this is a very early spring. There could easily be a snowstorm yet, but for the moment, we are in heaven.    

St. Patrick's Day

St. Patrick's Day is also my 68th birthday.

My rule is to eat what ever I want to, exercise as little as possible, and do nothing productive this day.

Therefore, other than noting that my son and his family came by to bring me lunch and that Gary bought me a chocolate shake, I have been mostly sitting in the warm sunshine reading books, including the one Gary gave me: People of the Sturgeon, Wisconsin's Love Affair with an Ancient Fish, by Kline, Bruch and Binkowski.

Tomorrow, I will get back to work but this is all I will be writing today.

After the Wolf River

We came off the Wolf River exhilarated with the warm day's adventures.  We didn't want to go home just yet, so we drove to the Navarino Nature Center which is north of Highway 156.  McDonald Road runs through the area.  It is a swamp with big swatches of water.

Almost immediately we found common goldeneyes near the road, but we wanted to get a better look so we parked and walked into a viewing area built years ago by an Eagle Scout. From there, using our binoculars we could zero in on the various water fowl.

Across the water, we could see the "seven swans a-swimming" of Christmas fame.  Closer were lesser scaup and to my delight, a hooded merganser.

He is one of my favorites.  Later in the summer, his hood is smoothed back, but in the spring, he puts on his Easter bonnet to charm the ladies.

The usual Canada geese, red-winged blackbirds and sandhill cranes were there, too, plus some sleepy muskrats checking out their huts for spring repairs.

Next we went off of Van Patten Road near Shiocton to see more birds.  The gnats have risen and with that the first tree swallows made their appearance, too.

All of the birds we've been seeing arrived at least a week earlier than last year.  We'll keep on checking to see what's happening.  With warm weather continuing, we may even get out on the river again next week.

******

Be sure to check out "Stroke, Stroke, Breathe" by Wade Peterson at Black Coffee Fiction http://blackcoffeefiction.blogspot.com

First Canoe Trip of 2012 - Part Two

Once on the Wolf River, we were soon spotting birds and consulting our copy of Sibley's Field Guide when the little guys refused to sit still.  Sibley's is good for flying birds, too.

Noon:  A flock of common goldeneyes erupted from a little bay and flew over us. We caught sight of the white markings.  Later we would see more sedentary goldeneyes which showed we were right.

12:20 pm.  More kingfishers and this time they showed themselves.

By now we were singing Bill Staines' song "River".  After all these years we know all the words:
River, take me along, in your sunshine, sing me your song.
Every moving, ever winding and free, 
You rolling old river, you changing old river,
Let's you and me river run down to the sea.

Of course the Wolf doesn't exactly go directly to the sea, it goes into the Fox River which goes into Lake Michigan at Green Bay.  Sooner or later, however, the water flows through the St. Lawrence River into the Atlantic.  

12:39 p.m.  Eurkea, the highlight of the day, three otters playing on the bank, having a grand old time.  We couldn't remember the last time we had seen otters, but it took me back to my grade school days and the books of Thornton Burgess who wrote "The Wishing Stone" and other books about animals and their lives.  I loved Little Joe Otter who knew how to have fun.   I was so excited I couldn't find my camera before they disappeared into the water but I found a photo on line.  















12:49 p.m.  We found some marsh wrens setting up shop in the dry grasses.  I thought this was early but Gary said that we already have house wrens at Mathom House.

1:10 pm.  Finally, Gary found a place to stop for lunch.  Up until now, the banks were too wet and swampy. He settled the canoe on a dry spot, and helped me out.

It was a particularly good landing because there was an old road, last used by a tractor.  This gave us a chance to hike up and down for a while to stretch our legs.

We ate a simple lunch and then we were on our way again.  The thermometer Gary brought along told us it was now 70 degrees F.  Gary noted that the problem with getting on the river this early in the year is that the sun sets too soon.  Usually, we would take a nap before getting back in the canoe.   

1:26 p.m.  We saw a third year eagle, his "bald" head not full filled in yet.  A few minutes later, our first wood ducks of the year, followed by yet another flock of goldeneyes. 

1:52 p.m.  Gary ran us aground in a shallow place so he could consult Sacajawea, his GPS system.  After judicious calculations, he informed me that yes, we were still on the Wolf River.  With all the tributaries still frozen, where else would we be?  A white throated sparrow was singing on the bank, about the loveliest of bird songs.  

2:18 p.m. Three eagles, two juveniles and an adult flew off then came back to soar above us.  They stuck with us for twenty minutes.  

2:40 p.m. The bridge at the River's Edge came into view and soon we were on shore, retrieving Gary's van, and stowing gear.  

In the entire day, we had only seen one other person, a fellow coming out of his river cottage and getting into his pickup truck  We had had six solitary hours with nature that couldn't be beat. 

But that wasn't the end of our day. 

More tomorrow.  

First Canoe Trip of 2012 - Part One

"You don't take a 75 degree day and NOT go canoeing," says Gary.  "That's common sense."

Only once before were Gary and I able to canoe on a March day in Wisconsin.  Back in 2007, we were able to do so on March 26.  That makes today a record.

There are certain rules for canoeing.  The first thing I must do is buy a foot long sub sandwich.  This is the easiest meal to take and simplicity is what I like.  The canoe goes on top of Gary's van and I follow him to our final destination.  In this case it was the River's Edge Resort on Highway F west of Nichols.  I parked my car there and together we rode in his van to the boat landing on Highway 156, also called Clintonville Road.  The boat landing is at a little bayou on the edge of the Wolf River.  Unfortunately, it was still encased in ice.

Just over the Highway 156 bridge was the edge of the Navarino Nature Area with another parking area.  This was on the edge of the river, which was free flowing.  We put the canoe in there instead.

We found that most of the tributaries leading into the Wolf were still frozen, but the big river was fine, except for occasional ice chunks.  We discussed the Titanic, but the ice bits were no thicker than a quarter of an inch, and unlike icebergs, there was nothing underneath to crash into our canoe.

10:30 a.m.  We set off.  The sandhill cranes in the marshes around us set up a cacophony of warning cries.  Flickers called out and pecked on their favorite trees.  Those two sounds along with the honking of geese would follow us throughout the day.  A red-tailed hawk cruised overhead.

The water temperature was about 40 degrees, still too cold to bring  the turtles out of their winter mud to sun themselves on logs.  We were over ten degrees away from the sturgeon spawning.  But the warmth of sun on our backs was exactly what we wanted.  

We cruised past one of our sturgeon guard sites where someone ingeniously turned an old wagon into a movable gazebo. If the weather stays this warm, sturgeon guarding won't be far off.

I soon leaned back, setting my paddle aside.  Gary worked with the river current.  I said I would paddle if necessary, but that would mean the trip would be faster, and who would want that?  A day like this almost makes winter worth it.

10:55 a.m. A herd of white tailed deer crashed through the marsh.  We estimated twelve to fifteen deer.  No deer shortage here, despite hunters' complaints.

Trees downed during the winter stretched across the river, but we usually could navigate around them.  At one point, however, we had to bend way down in our seats to go under a horizontal tree.  We barely made it.

11:49 a.m.  We heard the first kingfisher of the year chatter as it missed its prey.  Shortly after a mourning cloak fluttered by.  The mourning cloak can be seen as many as eleven months out of the Wisconsin year, but it still is lovely to see a butterfly in March.

The Wolf River meanders so much so that when you see some interesting structure in the distance, you know that if you follow the river for fifteen minutes, you will come to a bend and the river will take you back for a closer look.

More tomorrow.