Beautiful pine cone

Beautiful pine cone

Feeling a little blue today.  Until later in the afternoon the skies were heavy, gray.  A cold northwest wind blew off the lake, attempting to blast us back to winter.  I’m usually an optimistic happy person, but every once in a while sadness or restlessness or inertia strikes.  And today was one of those days.

You know, of course, the best part of the day.  The very best hour of this day was the hour I spent tramping around across the bay, on Indian Land behind the Pow Wow grounds.  An access road leads to the beach, and behind the shore lie almost-hidden ponds.  They possibly grow wild rice back there, although I’m not sure. 

For an hour I wandered in the underbrush, forgetting myself, forgetting everything except nature’s miracles and gifts and, well, challenges.  Every step offered a new and interesting view.  However, the first thing I found was not so…happy.  It was morbidly fascinating though.  Once again, I would love to show the entire carcass, but this skull shot is going to be challenging enough for some of you.  (If you’re squeamish, scroll down quickly and do not pause to examine the following photo.  It’s probably the most graphic nature-shot in this blog so far.  It’s the skull of a dead beaver, near the pond.  And the skull hasn’t yet bleached to whitish purity.  It’s still covered with…well, those of you who aren’t squeamish can look and the rest of you just look for the next paragraph.)

Beaver skull beside pond

Beaver skull beside pond

Nature acts like Prozac sometimes, I swear.  You can be depressed or blue or just not cheerful, and it acts as an elixir.  You’re suddenly out of your self, and your blues trail on behind you.  Or maybe they just disappear.  Sometimes they get lost out in the woods and don’t return for the rest of the day.  Or sometimes the walk out in nature just provides a respite, a cushion, a timeless hour to forget the cares and worries we might be carrying around.  (Disclaimer right away!  I am not saying nature is a cure-all and throw away your Prozac prescription.  Just sayin’ that nature has a Prozac-like component.  Please don’t get me depressed again by arguing, anyone.)   🙂

You’d think getting one foot soaked as it fell through the snowy ice on the edge of the pond might make one even bluer.  Instead, I laughed.  How funny.  And then the other foot got soaked.  But there was so much LIFE bursting from all directions that it didn’t matter to be sloshing around with wet feet.  (They were my boots, but the spring-boot ankle version, not the heavy winter-boot variety.)

The pond.  Look at the reflection of the trees in that water.

The pond. Look at the reflection of the trees in that water.

A flock of Canadian geese floated on the pond.  What a squawk started up as I stumbled toward them.  One goose, in particular, honked and honked and honked in indignation for five minutes.  I silently entreated they swim on over for a close-up photo shot.  The goose replied with more indignant honks.  Until, finally, as I rested quietly upon a log, silence resumed.  Punctuated occasionally by honks that sounded more like goose-conversation among themselves. 

Geese on pond

Geese on pond

I have lots of other photos to share with you.  That’s a problem these days.  A glut of photos. They’re sitting in a folder labeled “April” and every day I think, “well, tomorrow I’ll post this one.”  But when tomorrow arrives, tomorrow comes complete with its own overage of photos.  Alas.

So imagine these photos which you may or may not ever see on this blog:  beautiful green cedar, fairly close up.  Yellow mullein.  Pine burls.  A half-buried clear bottle which reminded me of childhood hunts with Dad for old bottles.  (Remember that, Dad?)  Beautiful tree growing in the middle of the sand.  Red berries.  Wait a minute!  You must see red berries.  Just because they exist and because they offered me so much pleasure today.

Splash of red by the swampy edge of the pond (watch your feet, don't fall in!)

Splash of red by the swampy edge of the pond (watch your feet, don't fall in!)

Ahhh…can you feel the peace exuding from the land?  Can you feel nature stimulating your serotonin?  Can you notice that the “blues” have hiked off in a different direction?  Ahhhh…don’t you feel a little bit better now? 

Yes, Mother Earth, I do.  Thank you.

Meandering river meets tumultuous sky

Meandering river meets tumultuous sky

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