Beauty?

What does beauty look like?

Is beauty infective, reactive, subjective, defective or is it one size fits all?

Is there beauty in things we do not observe or disregard because we think it is not worth our time?

Can beauty coexist in things that scare or anger us or that we find icky?

If we have a fear of spiders can we find beauty in its geometric web?

Or can beauty happen in a snake or a slug?

Do fresh water mollusks have any beauty while they filter water or stick out their foot that looks like a tongue?

Should there be beauty in a cluster of eggs laid by what I believe to be frogs on sticks and plants in a lake?

On this divine week of April Fools/ Easter should there be more time spent as Marcus Aurelius instructs us to “dwell on the beauty of life”???

Reflective Nature

               The rational and the irrational join with molecules of water on the surface of lakes, ponds, rivers even puddles in parking lots to reflect their surroundings sometimes swirled by spirits with a gust of wind.

               Light and dark mingle with color and clarity reflecting the permanent and the impermanent making and ever changing mosaic of duel realms that imitate our thoughts through Mother Nature’s looking glass.

Feathers and Tails

               On a recent exploration I noticed that someone had attached a six inch by six inch feeder to a random tree at a random location. The coming and going of dozens of Nuthatches and Chickadees is what drew my attention to this tiny bird feeder. The birds came in one’s and two’s to the feeder as more waited on nearby trees and branches for their turn.

               Some birds worked the surrounding ground searching for any bird seed that might have been spilled.

               A squirrel charged on to the feeder scattering the birds but they didn’t go very far. The squirrel ate like it was his last meal and a nuthatch or chickadee would land on one side of the feeder and take a seed. The squirrel did not want to share and would fake a lunge at the offending bird pilfering its seed.

               The squirrel gorged, the birds seized at opportunity and the squirrel did its fake lunge and on it went.

               With all this activity I didn’t think I would be noticed trying to take their photo but I was regarded like paparazzi in Hollywood as I tried to capture a photo the squirrel would move behind the tree to block the shot and giving me photos of just its tail.

               The nuthatches and chickadees came and went so fast that I got photos of disappearing tail feathers or a blurry wing tip.

               With minimal movement and waiting the nuthatches, chickadees and squirrel began to regard me as just another part of their environment and as long as I didn’t try to take any of their food they cared less about me and my camera.

Ducks, swans and “The” Groundhog … oh my?

      The winter of 2020 – 21 had been an easy one with only 2 nights of low temperatures below zero into the first week of February with daytime highs in the mid 20’s to mid-30.

               And then excessive bitter cold marched out of Siberia forced its way across Canada over the border and swept over my house in northern Wisconsin without a sound still on its way to Oklahoma and Texas.  This is nothing new and most winters it is the norm from November to April but this year we started to believe it would never happen, so long underwear, bulky sweaters and puffy jackets stayed in the back of closets, but the groundhog knew better.

               On February 2nd we have faith that groundhogs can forecast the weather for the next six weeks – this is not true. The groundhog cannot predict the weather; Groundhogs control the weather from there extensive underground layers where they are also the inventors of such things as the polar vortex, bomb cyclones, wind chill and Time Shares. Groundhogs would like you to imagine they are just cute, furry ground dwellers that we celebrate one day a year. In actuality they are a supper Marmota monax that have figured out how to influence the earth’s meteorological conditions for reasons only they know – all hail “The” Groundhog!

               After rereading the first part of this essay I think this arctic blast has compelled me to spend way too much time in my house and that I should check my ever running gas furnace to make sure it’s venting outside and then head outside and Shackleton.

               Sir Ernest Henry Shackleton was an English explorer who in 1915 while exploring in the Weddell Sea in Antarctica his ship the Endurance was crushed by pack ice.  He and his crew spent nearly six months on a drifting ice flow before he and a few of his crew set out to find help, and after an arduous journey they were all saved. So that is the mind set I get myself into when I attempt to venture out into air so cold your nose could freeze, turn black and fall off in minutes. So into the back of the closet I go to dig out the long underwear, bulky sweater and puffy jacket and gear up to go Shackleton. 

               You may be asking “why would you do this?” Because if you didn’t Shackleton you might spend too much time in self-imposed seclusion in your warm home writing delusional ranting blogs about weather controlling groundhogs – that’s why.

               Down to a small stream that the cold of winter has not frozen over and it still freely flows into a lake and at that spot ducks and swans gather to feed and rest from what life has given them like they always have.

               When I arrive at the stream I am disappointed that I see no swans – I as scan the scene I notice lumps of snow in the water that are not lumps of snow but swans all curled up resting in the below zero temperatures.

               As I am zooming in on the swans’ ducks fly in and land in the water right at me feet not paying any attention to me.

Just another day for swans and ducks – paddle around and eat in unfrozen water that if not moving would be frozen.

Swans in effervesces of sun and water makes me want to go for a swim – maybe tomorrow?

Rime Frost

Rime Frost: An accumulation of granular ice tufts on the windward side of exposed objects that is formed from the supercooled fog and built out directly against the wind.

            Northern Wisconsin has been subjected to a circumstance of above normal temperatures and minimal accumulation of snow for the month of January. This has caused over a weeks’ worth of warm nights and foggy mornings the fog freezing and attaching itself to anything in what is called rime frost making the world around you look like it’s been sprinkled with powdered sugar.

               You can look out onto herds of geometric ice crystals gathered in a blink of time waiting for sun and warmth to break the influence of reality.

               Rime frost creatures can be discovered clinging to any surface frozen in a moment of time while they wait to pass from a solid to gaseous state to roam free again unnoticed.

Ice Skating

               Liquid, vapor or solid water in its many forms to me are a source of fun, excitement and beauty.  

               I enjoy water in all its manifestations and for 50 some years when fall turns into winter, sunlight becomes scarce and temperatures drop below freezing I look forward to ice materializing on puddle’s, ponds and lakes. As far back as I can remember my 2 older brothers and I have searched for perfect skate-able ice some years with no luck.

               When conditions were right and we found that the lake near our house had frozen over we tested the strength of that ice by keeping one foot on solid ground and inching the other onto the newly formed ice seeing if it would hold us.

               We usually had to wait a couple of days for the ice to grow thicker and strong enough so we didn’t fall through but we skated on thin ice that moaned at our impulsive want to glide across a frozen body of water. Skates, hockey sticks and pucks at the ready we could wait no more the potential of falling though was part of the excitement. My oldest brother seemingly every year was the one who could find the weakest ice proudly exhibiting his wet and frozen skates and sometimes wet and frozen pants up to his waist.

               With confidence in the ice growing we would venture further out, the sound of metal blades cutting into the ice echoing across the lake mixing with laughter as we searched for slap shot pucks that gilded on forever some never to be found.

               We have never lost our love for a good frozen puddle, pond or lake and we shared that love with family and friend. We still search for newly frozen over first of the season ice and we send out the call “grab your skates I found a spot.”  The spot could be ponds of less than an acre to lakes of many acres some years only small sections skate- able to some year’s nature Zamboni-ing every inch for our enjoyment.

               Now with knees that ache and backs that don’t bend like they used to the call to lace up the skates is still heeded so out with a shovel to clear a spot on the ice of snow we venture out to play a game of hockey 2 brothers and a niece/daughter against 2 dogs. The skate-able ice may only last a couple of hours or a day or 2 but you learn to enjoy what is given … game on!

Happy Holidays!

               The photo bellow is me wishing all of you who have checked out my blog a thank you! And have a Happy Holidays!

               Ok that is not really me it’s more of a representation of me but the regards are real. This time of year as we reflect on the year that has passed … maybe we should not go there?

               At this time of year in northern Wisconsin nature has decorated the trees for our enjoyment if we take the time to notice.

               Nature is always ornamenting the background of our lives for every occasion, give yourself the occasion to enjoy the time and space you are in.

J. H. Arnold

Water and Ice

               Dropping temperatures combined with wind driven waves splashing on the shore mold a solid snow globe effect on sticks and plants creating a temporary crystal laden shoreline.

               On cold, clear, still night’s ice begins to creep out from the shorelines and banks of ponds, lakes and streams creating an edge between liquid and solid.

               Ice forms intercepting crystal puzzle patterns that reach out across a body of water until it covers a puddle a pond or lake becoming thicker and stronger until one day the sun shines stronger and warmer causing the ice to retreat back to hide under the shores and banks.

Reviews & Comments

               Thanks to all of you have commented on my blog, if you would like to know anything about my photos or me please feel free to leave a comment or an e-mail just click the contact button and go from there.

My favorite review so far has been - “your blog is a great time suck at work.” A. T. from Minocqua. Glad I could add something to your day.

Zen Photography

I spent part of an afternoon just standing on the bank of the Manitowish River watching water flow over and around rocks photo’ing the changes the moving sun had on colors and reflections.

               The sun traveled from east to west across the horizon, I traveled down the bank no more than ten feet down and back and the water was either coming or going or waiting.

               Time passed and I noticed it but I was not afflicted by its passing. Time never stops like water it goes over, around and through sometimes looking like its standing still but always transforming predictably unpredictable.

A Case of the Grey's

               The days between the end of fall and the start of winter when the sun travels low in the sky casting a lingering twilight that makes the atmosphere and everything in it a color wheel so unvaried that it generates a case of the greys.

               Ranging from dull white to muted blacks the greys effect your outward projection and your inner perception that changes everything from attitude to appetite to photo style.

               Snow can fill the air and cover your yard and with limited sun light not melting their affects either from your sidewalk or your mind.

               When old man sun decides to make an appearance from out behind the clouds it may be for only seconds or if lucky minutes that make you stop what you’re doing and take notice of something you overlooked in the height of summer.

               During this time of year daylight is fleeting the shadows are long and reflections on the surface of water is elongated generating a fun house mirror effect.

Against this back drop anything with a modicum of color stands out like oak leaves and tamarack needles wanting hold onto summer like you for a little longer or the light that comes across not down illuminating the peeling back of birch bark.

               So elect to notice this campaign of the seasons – I have approved this blog post I hope you approved of it? No obscure thoughts were harmed in the writing of this blog.

Wander-Fall

               Semaphores of vibrant leaves hang from the trees and carpet my driveway with a message, get out and rove from home, take in the phantasmagoria nature has produced!

               Fall is a great time in Northern Wisconsin and Upper Michigan to drive back roads to quite picnic spots and snack on free range apples discovered on long forgotten trees on the drive.

               Or ramble to a lake in the clouds and watch the passing clouds cast shadows on the ground bellow you.

Take notice of a well-worn sign that directs you to what’s left of an abandoned mining town and occupy the past and present.                                           

               Uncover the route to a covered bridge and amble through a passageway of color.

               Sit on the shores of Newman Lake letting the sun fill your body with vitamin D as you observe the changes of the reflections on the surface of the lake as the sun travels across the sky.

Fall

               I can hear the geese honking their way south with the warm summer air being pulled in their wake and the falling  of colorful leaves pulling remorse out of me with the passing of another season.

               The oak, the maple, the birch and the tamarack need rest after a summer of growth and they announce the onset of winter with a dazzling display of colors.

               I ignore the future and relive the past by stomping down a trail littered with dry fallen leaves like my 8 year old self did seasons ago enjoying making as much noise with each step smiling as I go.

               Like that 8 year old self I realize time is the only present not the future or the past.

               Not being deliberate instead going with a feeling or a perception an expression of the ideometor phenomenon like what causes a Ouija board piece to move I roll in the leaves.

               All thoughts of looking foolish or worries that my clothes will get dirty are no match for the pleasure that can be had from lying in a pile of leaves as the sun’s rays pass through my body.

               The saying goes “time waits for no man” – I think it should go “no man waits for time.

Leaves

Fall displayed signals of its immanent arrival early this year so with cheerless grey clouds that were accompanied by a persistent mist that hung in the air as my companion I biked to the lake even though every part of my being screamed at me “stay in bed!”

               The lake was calm and reflected the dark gloominess of the sky on its surface and some of the leaves on the trees had started turning color.

               I walked along the beach and tossed my trout fisherman’s thermometer out into the water and waited for it to tell me that the water was a temperate 62 degrees. I had no intention of going in the water until I noticed a birch tree in color and some of its leaves drifting aimlessly onto the water and I thought “that could make a great photo!”   So off with the shoes and my sweat shirt and t-shirt and with steely resignation into the water I went.

               With parts of my brain deliberating between – this is going to be great – and – what the hell? – I slipped below the surface popped my head back out for a few quick body shocked breathes and then drifted my way over towards the leaves.

               The lake was calm, the falling leaves were calm and I was calm the only hindrance being the coldness in my hands was making it hard to work the buttons on the camera as I worked my way through and around the leaves photo’ing.

               Maple leaves also slowly drifted out over the lake seeming gravity averse before landing on the water’s surface where they danced with water striders who relaxed on these leaf boats – can you find the resting water striders on the leaves?

Pointe Aux Baies

Pointe Aux Baies

               Lake Superior has 2726 miles of shoreline and some of that shoreline comes together to form a slab of rock outcropping that is called Pointe Aux Baies or the Pointe Abbaye Natural Area.

I like to think of it as the mini Keweenaw Peninsula that juts out into Lake Superior separating Keweenaw Bay from Huron Bay that invites a view of the Huron mountains across the water.

               Getting a chance to snorkel here is a fusion of influences like water temperature, sunshine and a lack of waves that roll in all the way from Canada gathering size and strength as they go. Over the ages the grinding force of waves, ice and time let mother nature sculpture the edges into stairs that could lead you to the bottom of the lake, it also can make car sized boulders look like they are floating.

               A space alien that is detained in a rock formation that hangs above the water keeps an eye on me as I snorkel around.

               For such a comparatively small area there are many time worn rock formations. 

               Lake Superior contains over 3 quadrillion gallons of water that harbors an abundance of tiny residents like small trout out on the rock plains with the refraction’s of light that dance across the bottom.

               Living among the rocks is the tiny Mottled Sculpin 2 to 4 inches is stature – can you find it blending in with the rocks and algae in the photos bellow? 

The next photos I think are of the Dart family - if you know what type of fish they are please leave a comment.

Remember we are all just little fish in a big pond.

Weeds?

Twisting, weaving, clambering and rising towards the light out a bivalve’s garden with names like Spatterdock and Spike rush the lakes are populated with aquatic plants.

  Encountering them when we are boating or swimming we act with an annoyance declaring them all derogatorily “weeds!” Some of these aquatic plants names are combined with and do end in weed like pound weed and duck weed.

They are more than unsightly weeds they are a home and sanctuary they become part of the fry and the fray along with vegetation mazes for the hunter and hunted from the minnow to the musky.

These aquatic plants may even obscure a Nibiinaabe the water sprite from Anishinabe folklore that has come out of hiding to see what I am doing … or it’s an otter that wants to know if I’m something to worry about – study the blurry photo and you decide – it happened so fast I’m not sure what it could have been???

They are more than just weeds they have function and splendor take a closer look next time you’re on the water this is some of what you might see.

Ghost Trees

The lakes of northern Wisconsin are surrounded by the bystanders of time from the tiny seedling to its cousin the sapling all the way to trees whose growth rings would take days to count to reveal its age.

               Trees young and old are subject to the constant forces of nature and time. Drought, ice, snow, lightning, tornadoes and wind shear can bring down one tree or many. The trees along a lakes shore that succumb to these powers and land in the water are no longer living but are still apart of life, they are ghost trees.

               In its life the limbs of a tall white pine is where an eagle rests as it surveys its territory or a branch of an oak could be where a squirrel builds a nest. In death the tee that falls and remains near the shore becomes a place for a family of ducks to preen and rest or a spot for a turtle to sun itself.

               When I snorkel past these ghost trees they look like prehistoric beings and I recognize that they have become a tangle of life.  Frogs, toads and fish use the trees branches to suspend their eggs.

 Bass build their nests under the sunken fallen trees and use it as protection while guarding their eggs.

A bryozoan attaches itself to a now leafless limb and begins to form a volleyball sized colony that will be broken apart by the waves of a fall storm to form other colonies next year.

Time, winter storms and shifting lake ice causes the fallen trees to lose their leaves and limbs and they sink lower into the water. The changes to the ghost tree attract new forms of life like the fresh water sponge with tiny green fingers that wave at me as I snorkel past.

A few years ago I came across a long-standing White pine that had sheared off from its base. The tree had been a fixture on the shore of that lake for so long that it would have taken 3 of me with arms outstretched holding hands to circle it.

The great tree now lay from where land met water out into the lake where its crown now reached out with half the tree above the surface half bellow in 20 feet of water. Time had removed the needles, smaller limbs and most of its bark but the larger limbs still held it up on the surface of the lake years later.

I snorkel to it a couple times a year and I try to make my body one with the tangle of limbs and be as still as they are and let my eyes be my only moving function and my mind pauses as I wait to see what might reveal itself. Pan fish are usually the first come out from hiding in its limbs.

  Averse to being seen walleyes materialize from the depths and under the crown a musky appears like out of a dream to see what I am.

If light can be both a particle and a wave, lichen are mutually algae and fungus, water can be liquid, solid and vapor and a tree is beauty, home, shelter and food in life as it reaches for the sun and shelter, sanctuary and ghostly beauty in death am I more then I seem?

The Outlet

The excess water of Star Lake spills over a small  impoundment and is then forced through the
narrowness of a six foot long culvert where it speeds up and mixes in air bubbles before it tumbles out and becomes the Star Lake Outlet Stream – a more romantic name it could use.

In the spring for less than two weeks the Outlet Stream becomes a water park of aquatic life that hangs out in the oxygen rich water that is looking for place to breed; a quiet place to deposit their eggs in the sand, gravel and in the crevices between the rocks or in the brush that has been forced to the edges by the current.

One day was surprised to find hiding in the rocks (the long black object) a Burbot – also called an Eelpout , a fresh water member of the cod family, spends most of its time in deep cold water – what was it doing  in the Outlet?

Yellow Bullheads

For those two weeks in spring you could pass by the Outlet Stream on a hike and stop on top of the culvert, look down and notice the flowing of the water and little else and go on your way. I consider it a privilege to put on my mask and snorkel, ease myself into the stream and become a part of this ritual of spring and photo it to share with others.

I look below the surface and witness the intoxicated struggle of the temporary inhabitants that don’t stop or take much to notice me in the ever changing flow of life in the Outlet Stream. These photos are compilation of spring visits from the last 3 years to the Star Lake Outlet look them over closely and see how many things you can name – not only its species but also give them a name, Jan, Stu, Angelica …

Suckers! or in Latin - Catostomus!

I’m a Horneyhead Chub! – or in Latin – I’m a Nocomis biguttatus! – Breeding males develop hornlike tubercles on the head.

Old Snappy

               Tuesday
June 9th  2020 a summer daylong awaited for – sunny, a high of 87 predicted and what better way to spend the day then snorkeling? I enter the waters of Star lake at 10:40am, water temperature a fortifying 66 degrees. Working my way down the shore to two small islands I checkout what activity might be photographed around a large red pine that had fallen down and out into the water. Unpredictably nothing … no fish, no bugs no frogs in the tangle of broken trunk and limbs so I photo the limbs reflection on the underside of the surface  when I notice a rock turn and look at me?

               That’s no rock – it’s a snapping turtle – a large 18 inch long shelled snapping turtle – that is showing no fear of me – I name him Old Snappy.

Notice the size of those feet and claws and look at that face … Old Snappy has the regal look of wisdom, placidity and mostly don’t mess with me I’ll eat that camera and your hand for lunch.

               I say good bye to Old Snappy and I work my way out from the shore and out to the islands and discover that the lily pads have just started to come out.

I also come across some freshly hatched out of the nest bass fry (the black spots) and if you look closely you can see the parent fish coming out to shoo me away.  

After close to three hours of snorkeling I head back to where I put in and as I’m just about there a tadpole crosses over me – just another day if you take time to notice it.

I am a minnow

One of the best times to go snorkeling is early morning, the
lake is calm and quiet and the rising sun makes for great underwater photo'ing. So it was out the door by 7am and geared up and in the water by 7:20am, the water a balmy 65 degrees. I snorkel my way out to a sand bar when I encounter a curl of hundreds possibly thousands of minnows. I know any sudden movement will spook them so I pretend I’m just a log – just an ordinary log that has drifted away from the shore with a camera in front of it. I try not breath hard from my snorkel for concern it may agitate the minnows.

The minnows become used to me being there and they encircle me and for a few brief moments I become a minnow – a 6 foot 3 inch 200 and some pound minnow – I was part of the minnow nation.