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| deer-chewed pumpkins
Photo by J. Harrington
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Swans and Canada geese are still hanging around, although even much of the Sunrise River is now ice covered. We admit we haven't paddled around to check, but we suspect there's open water near the center of Carlos Avery Pool 1. Large numbers of geese were seen heading out of that area about mid-day today. Waters such as Forest Lake still have large areas of open water and the row crop fields aren't yet snow covered, so waterfowl, especially the larger ones, are likely to stay until open water or food, or both, are no more. Although we enjoy seeing both swans and geese well into November, those sightings lack the abundance of hope we enjoy as they return each Spring. We know most of them will leave, it's just a question of when. There are supposed to be swans that Winter over on the St. Croix. We'll try again this year to see if we can get some photos. It's been awhile since we've visited the river, which should still be pretty much open water.
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| St. Croix River, early November
Photo by J. Harrington
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Our observations happened as we left for and returned from "The Cities." We made one of our seasonal trips to Birchbark Books this morning. Among other delights they had was a copy of 1621 A New Look at Thanksgiving. We once lived about 15 or 20 miles from the Plimoth Plantation in Plymouth [Patuxet] and have visited it a few times. I don't remember much emphasis on a Wampanoag perspective in those days and am glad to see the broadened version of the story in the book. Something we don't expect but would be very thankful to see this year would for our capitalist, global economy to include much more of a seventh generation perspective when considering making investments and developing projects.
Anyhow, despite the cold, cold air and the cloudy, cloudy sky, there's been much to appreciate about today, unlike 42 years ago for some. Thanksgiving must have been very tough that year for the families of the crew of the
SS Edmund Fitzgerald * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
* = ship's bell rung
Thanksgiving
We walk on starry fields of white
And do not see the daisies;
For blessings common in our sight
We rarely offer praises.
We sigh for some supreme delight
To crown our lives with splendor,
And quite ignore our daily store
Of pleasures sweet and tender.
Our cares are bold and push their way
Upon our thought and feeling.
They hand about us all the day,
Our time from pleasure stealing.
So unobtrusive many a joy
We pass by and forget it,
But worry strives to own our lives,
And conquers if we let it.
There’s not a day in all the year
But holds some hidden pleasure,
And looking back, joys oft appear
To brim the past’s wide measure.
But blessings are like friends, I hold,
Who love and labor near us.
We ought to raise our notes of praise
While living hearts can hear us.
Full many a blessing wears the guise
Of worry or of trouble;
Far-seeing is the soul, and wise,
Who knows the mask is double.
But he who has the faith and strength
To thank his God for sorrow
Has found a joy without alloy
To gladden every morrow.
We ought to make the moments notes
Of happy, glad Thanksgiving;
The hours and days a silent phrase
Of music we are living.
And so the theme should swell and grow
As weeks and months pass o’er us,
And rise sublime at this good time,
A grand Thanksgiving chorus.
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Thanks for visiting. Come again when you can.
Please be kind to each other while you can.
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