A Time to Reflect…

Friday, 23 December, 1763: Two fox squirrels chattered. Sandhill cranes chortled near the Riviere aux Raisins. A crimson cardinal twittered about as if deciding whether to stay or move on. A solitary Canada goose uttered intermittent “ke-honks” on its way to the river. Orange painted the southern horizon. Patches of gray ice hinted at the… Continue reading A Time to Reflect…

So Many Times Before…

Monday, December 19, 1763: Half-frozen muck crackled. Here and there, pointed skunk cabbage sprouts poked through black humus. Slow and quiet, cowhide moccasins stepped on moss-covered roots and sedge grass clumps. Forty paces into the Riviere aux Raisins’ bottoms, Mi-ki-naak paused beside an east-leaning maple with a “J-shaped” trunk. Decades before, God’s whimsy pushed the… Continue reading So Many Times Before…

What to do, what to do?

Saturday, 19 November, 1763: Two Sandhill cranes flew overhead. One chortled soft, the other trailed behind. The “caw, caw, caw, caw” of a lone crow, winging somewhere south, pierced the dense fog. A fox squirrel’s sharp bark hung heavy on that chilly morn. A branch stub, not cut clean by the tomahawk, irritated through the… Continue reading What to do, what to do?

Snapping Turtle is Hunting…

Thank you for asking, and yes, we are fine, and attempting to get “caught up.” For the second straight year, life has thrown us some pretty sharp curves. I never could hit a curve ball. Trying to keep a half-dozen or so eggs in the air all at the same time is difficult at best,… Continue reading Snapping Turtle is Hunting…