Where's the color-fall leaves? #phenology

The Better Half and I spent the much of the day today driving through West-central and Northwestern Wisconsin. The purpose was to take a trip and visit the Gordon MacQuarrie exhibit at the Barnes Area Historical Association museum, then have lunch somewhere and head home. We're filing today's trip under "The best-laid schemes o' mice an' men / Gang aft agley, "

The museum was closed, despite the fact that the John Myers article, Northland Native Gordon MacQuarrie’s Outdoor Writing Gains New Life, dated this Summer, notes about the museum that "It’s open Fridays and Saturdays through September from 10 a.m. to 3 p.m." The museum web site, checked moments ago, makes the same claim. It wasn't open today at mid-day. We may try another visit some time, or maybe not. It's irritating when organizations aren't considerate enough to post changes in their hours, especially if they're in a rural location several hours drive from population centers.

there's not yet this much color in much of the "North Woods"

Photo by J. Harrington

Several noteworthy observations emerge from today's trip.

• We saw a flock of turkeys near Barnes. I hadn't thought their range went that far North.


• Almost all the water in and around Barnes and the Namekagon River is really high. Several roads had been washed out by flooding, especially around Pigeon Lake.


• Despite heading North, most of the colors we saw were at well less than 25% peak. We've no idea what's going on this year.


• Northwestern Wisconsin could use a few more decent restaurants offering lunch. There's an overabundance of bars, grills, taverns, Subways and pizza joints. How about some more places featuring farm to table fare?

That's it for today. The trip wasn't a disaster but neither was it a success. Once again we're back to Samuel Beckett's famous quotation:

“Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try again. Fail again. Fail better.”

What would I do without this world

by Samuel Beckett

what would I do without this world faceless incurious
where to be lasts but an instant where every instant
spills in the void the ignorance of having been
without this wave where in the end
body and shadow together are engulfed
what would I do without this silence where the murmurs die
the pantings the frenzies towards succour towards love
without this sky that soars
above its ballast dust

what would I do what I did yesterday and the day before
peering out of my deadlight looking for another
wandering like me eddying far from all the living
in a convulsive space
among the voices voiceless

that throng my hiddenness

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Thanks for visiting. Come again when you can.
Please be kind to each other while you can.