Going with the flow

The trees are coated with barely melting ice, The air is full of fog, some of which is trying to accumulate on the trees as ice. Temperatures are drifting around 32 to 33℉. Welcome to “spring” in the North Country. The woods surrounding the house look like they’re full of ghost trees, all whiteish and shrouded. Tonight, after an afternoon’s worth of rain, the forecast includes slushy snow. Welcome to “spring?” in the North Country. Hard to believe three or four months from now we may be complaining about heat.

Over the next several weeks, the snow and ice on the ground will melt and become groundwater or flow overland into brooks, creeks, streams and rivers. As I continue to try to get a handle of the place in which I live, I’m gaining some insight into how much political boundaries can distort the bioregional reality in which we live. Here’s an example.

Driftless Area map

Our property is part of the Sunrise River watershed, which is part of the Lower St. Croix River watershed, which  is part of the Upper Mississippi River watershed. Across the St. Croix is the state of Wisconsin. On that side of the river, also part of the lower St. Croix River watershed, is the Kinnickinnic River watershed which, as near as I can tell, is one of the most northern watersheds of the Driftless Area, which encompasses parts of Minnesota (southeastern), Wisconsin (southwestern), Iowa (northeastern) and Illinois (northwestern).

Almost all of the time I’ve lived in Minnesota, I’ve leaned toward the wilderness of the northern part of the state and the City of Duluth, which I find a little reminiscent of my native Boston. It was only a few years ago that I learned an area such as the Driftless existed, although I have from time to time fished some of the trout streams in southeast Minnesota. Now I find myself drawn toward the Driftless, mostly due to trout fishing, food, music, and roots. Brook trout char are native to the Driftless and to New England. I’ve been a fan of Greg Brown’s for some years now. He lives in the Iowa section of the Driftless and his music is captured in Going Driftless. Spring, when it finally gets here, and summer, are looking more promising by the day.

In lieu of a standard poem today, let’s enjoy a “prose poem” by the author of Anatomy of a Fisherman.

“I fish because I love to; because I love the environs where trout are found, which are invariably beautiful, and hate the environs where crowds of people are found, which are invariably ugly; because of all the television commercials, cocktail parties, and assorted social posturing I thus escape; because, in a world where most men seem to spend their lives doing things they hate, my fishing is at once an endless source of delight and an act of small rebellion; because trout do not lie or cheat and cannot be bought or bribed or impressed by power, but respond only to quietude and humility and endless patience; because I suspect that men are going along this way for the last time, and I for one don't want to waste the trip; because mercifully there are no telephones on trout waters; because only in the woods can I find solitude without loneliness; because bourbon out of an old tin cup always tastes better out there; because maybe one day I will catch a mermaid; and, finally, not because I regard fishing as being so terribly important but because I suspect that so many of the other concerns of men are equally unimportant - and not nearly so much fun.” - Robert Traver
(John Voelker)

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