A tale of two marshes

Our property abuts the Eastern edge of the Carlos Avery Wildlife Management Area [W.M.A.]. Several months ago we picked up a pamphlet published by the Minnesota Department of Natural Resources briefly summarizing key information items about the W.M.A. We were aware of most of the information in the pamphlet but one item in particular surprised us.

The Carlos Avery W.M.A., with its extensive marshes, was purchased by the Minnesota Conservation Commission in 1933 after the Crex Carpet Company allowed the land to become tax forfeit.

early morning, Carlos Avery marshes, Pool 1

Photo by J. Harrington

Our surprise was triggered by the mention of Crex Carpet Company. We've visited Crex Meadows in Wisconsin a couple of times and have enjoyed browsing the visitors center there before we drove the roads to observe wildlife, especially waterfowl.

Crex Meadows history sign

Photo by J. Harrington

The "Wildlife Education and Visitors Center" at Crex Meadows is, we believe, operated under the auspices of The Friends of Crex Meadows. We have, from time to time, wondered why there isn't a comparable organization working with the Minnesota DNR and, logically, the Minnesota Audubon Society and/or the Wild River Audubon chapter to offer opportunities and services similar to those found at Crex Meadows. (One thing a "Friends of Carlos Avery W.M.A." could do is cross-link and update the fragmented and inconsistent official web pages for the W.M.A.)

Perhaps it's because Aldo Leopold settled in Wisconsin and not Minnesota. Perhaps it's because Gordon MacQuarrie, the "rock star outdoor writer" was from Superior and not Duluth. In any case, Wisconsin seems to do more with less in the outdoor recreation and natural resources sector than our adopted home of Minnesota. Could we here in the North Star state overcome any "not invented here" syndrome and emulate, but not copy, some of successful strategies of our neighbor to the East?

At Great Pond

by Mary Oliver

At Great Pond
the sun, rising,
scrapes his orange breast
on the thick pines,
and down tumble
a few orange feathers into
the dark water.
On the far shore
a white bird is standing
like a white candle ---
or a man, in the distance,
in the clasp of some meditation ---
while all around me the lilies
are breaking open again
from the black cave
of the night.
Later, I will consider
what I have seen ---
what it could signify ---
what words of adoration I might
make of it, and to do this
I will go indoors to my desk ---
I will sit in my chair ---
I will look back
into the lost morning
in which I am moving, now,
like a swimmer,
so smoothly,
so peacefully,
I am almost the lily ---
almost the bird vanishing over the water
on its sleeves of night.

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