Porcupine Journals - Day 8

"The brooke is all a babble in soft rushing gurgly sounds. The eerie sing-songs of wood thrush dance and ricochet through the woods. And sunbeams poke through the forest understory, like so many holes punched into a paper bag. Letting in the day.

Just as I was getting comfortable I heard a knock at the door. It is Curt, my neighbor with his daughter and their happy lab, Raven. I met them yesterday poking around in the woods near my cabin and invited them in for tea. They come here every year and this is the first time they have met a resident artist staying in the cabin.

I'm soon cajoled into a walk in the woods with them. And so we wandered slowly up the old backcountry ski-trails now overgrown with summer weeds. We swapped stories of places we've been and Curt tells me about his recent visit to Siberia and the Russian Far East. Curt is a biologist too who has worked in wild places like the Arctic, the tropics, and far out at sea. He's also worked closer to home and family where he now oversees some huge military lands in SW Wisconsin.

Curt points out plants to me - halfway fern, wild orchids, burdock, and wild sassafras. His shy 13 year old daughter listens intently, chiming in from time to time, but trying not to be too eager as a cool teenager. Meanwhile Raven is in dog heaven bounding up the trails and into the woods. Splashing in muddy puddles and sniffing up new scents.

It was so nice to be outside in the woods with such great company that I just wandered on like that for almost three miles all the way back to the Union Spring. Along the way Curt told me about how local people in Siberia us wild plants. About his work as a biologist in Wisconsin and about the debilitating affects of Lyme Disease on his life today. It is quite scary to think about, especially out here in the woods. On the way back we spotted a broad winged hawk in a clearing, took pictures of wood frogs in puddles, and picked wild strawberries.

Later that day after bidding them goodbye I walked to the shores of Superior near the park entrance. The light is crisp and just right. The caress of grainy sand on my bare toes feels truly delicious, and the big waters are velvety smooth and soft as silk. It is good for me to relax here by the waters and an antidote to my angst for leaving tomorrow night. I am not ready to go just yet, and it will be a long complicated journey west I have a feeling. For now though the shadows of late afternoon beckon me further down the beach line and the night still remains.

Arriving home I stripped down to my bare skin to wash in the icy cool darkness of the pool behind the cabin. There is something primal, exhilerating, and deeply liberating about this. Something I could get used to. And on my last night I have saved the best meal for last. Whole brown rice, crispy flat bread, and Indian spinach paneer with red wine. I've been waiting for this all week and it doesn't disappoint..."