HALF OF A MOON

                    Last evening, after the sun had set, I noticed a half moon in the sky. The moon reminded me of a poem that came my way one night when sleep wouldn't.  I kept the poem alive until morning and then jotted it down so I wouldn't forget it. Why, I don't know!  It's a good example of the nonsensical thoughts that run through a person's mind when sleep doesn't come easily, nonsensical thoughts and silly dreams that usually escape you as quickly as they come, thank goodness!  Except for this one...

  MOON THOUGHTS WHEN I CAN'T SLEEP

I cut the moon in half with a butter knife last night,

And since I made that crooked slice

I let you choose which half you wanted.

You took the east side, so I took the west.

I placed my half of the moon up high in the sky

And I let it's light guide me through the trail in the woods,

To the creek, where the water glistened.

I sat for a spell and listened for the wolves, but they weren't howling...

So I let the light from my half of the moon lead me back home.

Then I snatched it and pulled it down from the sky.

I slipped off my boots when inside my cabin door,
And laid my half of the moon on the kitchen table.

With my butter knife I spread cream cheese on a bagel,
And I nestled my half moon on top of it.

Then I climbed into bed and slept peacefully,
Savoring thoughts of a sweet breakfast treat in my dreams.

What did you do with your half of the moon?

 

 

My favorite socks my daughter-in-law knitted for me!

OPENING DAY of the WISCONSIN GUN DEER SEASON

SNOW FLEAS ON THE TRAIL TO AN OLD DEER BLIND

It's a balmy opening weekend, with temps in the 30's and 40's.  I'm thrilled with this heat wave after a few weeks of way below average temps.  This warm opening day of the Wisconsin gun deer season gives me a chance to journal out in the woods. 

A few eerie sounding crows have noticed me as I sit in my blaze orange coat leaning up against an oak tree on the back twenty.  I chose this spot to ponder as it is next to an old ground deer blind, a favorite hunting spot for Arnie, a deer hunter and family friend I knew all my life.  He hunted right up until the spring he passed away from pancreatic cancer a couple years ago. 

Arnie was a visiting guest deer hunter with my family for over sixty years.  His zest for hunting, the stories he told, and the kindness he bestowed on all of my siblings won't be forgotten.   Arnie was one of those old fashioned hunters that made sure you were up way before the crack of dawn, not just on opening day, but every day he was there to hunt.  He carried a flashlight, a hunting knife in a sheath, a hatchet, and a plastic bag.  And he knew how to cook. 

I'm missing a few things today besides Arnie...  a good stash of candy bars, a drag rope, a gutting knife, and my 30-30.  I haven't hunted in several years, but I'm thinking next year I just might give it a try again.  My oncologist said at 2 1/2 years I could have my chest port yanked out so I'm holding her to that.  It sits in my upper right chest where the butt of my gun should be. 

I hoped to find snow fleas on my walk to this spot, and BINGO, they're everywhere!  Snow fleas are little black insects with spring-like tails.  They look like pepper sprinkled on old snow, but they leap about everywhere in constant motion.  I love snow fleas because I associate them with mild winter days and little things no one seems to notice.   If you open your eyes you can find them on a warm winter day, hopping atop the snow in a Wisconsin woods.  Often they appear on a trail that someone traveled before you did.

It's foggy this early afternoon.  I don't hear any gunshots, only crows and blue jays calling in the distance, so I'm guessing neither hunters or deer are moving.  Blaze orange hats off today to Arnie, and all the deer hunter guests from seasons past who have come into our lives for a few days every November.  They've not only shared the gun deer season experience with us through the years, but have created a lifetime of memories, traditions, and unfading hopes of shooting that dream buck.  Perhaps I will... next year!

 

CHECKING THE TRAIL CAMERA

WHAT'S THERE WHEN WE'RE NOT...

 

In our neck of the woods we call them trail cameras, and most outdoorsy people own one or two in these parts.  We've owned a few through the years and have one set up out in our woods in most seasons.  Checking the trail camera has become a weekly chore, but a fun chore that always creates a bit of suspense.  It's fun to ponder on what might have been caught... on camera.

Yesterday my hubby and I donned our warmest knee boots and headed across Tom's Creek to retrieve the little postage stamp sized card from our trail camera and replace it with a fresh one.  The snow came about three weeks earlier than normal this fall and the air was very bitter on our short walk, too cold for me to bring along my journal.  As we crossed the creek, tromping through the little trickle of icy cold water, I heard geese flying overhead.  Looking up I saw a huge flock of Canadians heading south in a perfect "V" formation.  I fumbled with my camera but after removing my bulky gloves it was too late to snap a good photo.  So I bid the geese farewell.  

Tom's Creek, named for an early settler and Civil War Captain, Thomas Jefferson LaFlesh

  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We didn't have far to walk in our south twenty acres until we came to the tree where the camera was strapped up high and elusive.  My hubby quickly pulled out the card and inserted another.  We continued our walk on a loop trail through the twenty searching for any signs of wildlife.  Very few deer tracks showed themselves in the fresh snow.  The yet unfrozen ground squished softly under our feet.  Cold breezes stung my cheeks as I hadn't yet acclimated myself to the winter-like conditions that had crept upon us so quickly this season.

Upon entering our warm and cozy home after our walk we gathered around the desktop p.c. and inserted the trail camera card in it's tiny little slot.   We learned that two deer had walked through on the trail in the day light, one at a time, single file, both bucks.  The first was a nubbin buck and the second was a unicorn. 

Ah, it was not really a unicorn, of course, but a little buck who lost one of his antlers.  Perhaps he was in a sparring match with a buck of similar size and got the short end of the deal.  But there he was, not a trophy, and at least we caught something! 

In the past we've been fortunate enough to capture wolves, bobcats, skunk, fox, crows, fishers, raccoons, blue jays, squirrels, a weasel, black bears...  and someone pushing a wheelbarrow!  Gotta love our trail camera.  How fortunate we are to have a chance to see what's there when we aren't there.  I think our fathers would've loved the concept.

MEMORIES OF SHERWOOD LAKE, CLARK COUNTY, WISC.

REFLECTIONS ON A LAKE I LOVE

DON'T LET IT SLIP AWAY!

Closeup of the point at Sherwood Lake, between the main lake and the old swimming hole this fall.  Sandhill cranes  gathered here for a few days before heading south for the winter and sat amid the overgrown weeds of the dried up lake bed.

My nature journal today is filled with reflections of a special place near my roots called Sherwood Lake, a 117 acre lake in southeastern Clark County, Wisconsin, that now sits empty.  The failure of an auxiliary spillway in February of 2014, and a dam in need of repairs, led to an emptying of the entire lake bed.  Rich sediment on the lake floor, from many years of decomposing vegetation, promoted the quick growth of a sea of weeds where water once sparkled in the sunlight.

Sherwood Lake is owned by Clark County and is adjoined by a beautiful county park and campground.  The entire area around the lake is owned by the public, making it a unique landmark.  It is located on a dead end gravel road, surrounded by remote woods and wildlife.

Clark County Forestry & Parks is working on a plan to make dam repairs but has no funds available for dredging.  A group called Friends of Sherwood Lake, of which I am co-chair, was recently created to help raise funds to improve the fish habitat.  With the lake bed empty now, we have a unique opportunity to improve the lake bed.  In years past, this little lake has been a great fishery, giving young and old chances at landing some nice panfish, northern, and bass, in all seasons.

(The Sherwood Lake I remember.  Photo courtesy of Carin Schalla 2012/13)

These are my memories of Sherwood Lake...  swimming on hot summertime days in the old swimming hole with family and my good friend Linda, riding my 3 speed banana seat bicycle to the lake from home, fishing for bullheads at night with family by a campfire, taking my son out in a canoe for his very first boat ride, family reunions under the shelter house for so many years, attending weddings in the park, ice fishing for the best tasting crappies and bluegills in the whole wide world.

Sometimes when such a treasure is close to where you live you tend to take it for granted.  That might have been me... until now, until it was gone.

Check out the Friends of Sherwood Lake website below if you'd like to help restore this Wisconsin wonder spot.  You can also read more about the history of Sherwood Lake and it's creation back in the 1930's.

https://sites.google.com/site/wedigfriendsofsherwoodlake/

Together we can make a difference...  My father-in-law always said he'd like to leave the world a better place when he was gone.  That should be the way we all think.

I welcome your comments below about your memories of Sherwood Lake or your favorite swimming and fishing spots wherever you may live.

 Near the boat landing at Sherwood Lake this summer, looking east toward the dam.   What was once a lake is now a field of overgrown weeds and stick tights, so sad!

THE BUCK THAT WASN'T COMING

  WHITETAILS IN THE RUT

I find myself journaling today on the oak knoll, one of my favorite woodland spots on our south twenty acres.  Patches of blue sky amid strips of gray clouds wallpaper the sky above me on this mild November day.  We're just a couple weeks away from the whitetail gun deer season here in Wisconsin.

The winds are calm and I can hear a pin drop if one does.  It's a perfect day to sit and look and listen for a whitetail buck that isn't coming.  But there are signs of him.  I walked past a fresh scrape on my way here and there's another scrape just ten feet in front of me where I'm leaning up against an oak tree.  That's part of the reason I chose to sit here today.
 

A fresh whitetail buck scrape spotted on my walk to the knoll

A gray squirrel dashes from an oak tree to the woodland floor and scuffles along through the freshly fallen leaves that blanket the ground all around me.  I love that smell of fall, it brings back nostalgic memories of falls passed.  But today I also smell the slight odor of a skunk that must have waddled through here last night.

I hear a woodpecker high up in the trees pecking for a meal and I search for it with my eyes.  It looks like a female hairy woodpecker.  Between the large oak trees, clusters of spindly young white pine trees are filling the gaps in the woods around me.  They are so thick that I wonder how many will survive, and how it's decided which ones will.   

All of a sudden I hear leaves rustling directly behind the tree I'm sitting up against.  I turn around and grab my camera, shocked to see a spike buck sneaking up on me.  His neck is puffed up, his eyes are glaring at me, and I think he's as shocked as I am.  I fiddle with my camera and attempt to snap a shot but he quickly darts back into the trees where he came from.  All that I capture is his tail.

Dang it, there he was for a split second, the buck that wasn't coming, right there behind me, and I forgot all the rules about having patience and moving slowly that I learned from deer hunting years ago.  I know now that the rut is in full force and I'm just tickled that I've had the chance to see a buck up close and personal...  Life is great today!

My favorite leather hiking boots, they don't owe me a thing.