here‘s a new one from the good folks over at north american anglican, on one of my first ventures back out into the wild (that is, public events) after refraining for a long while due to the pandemic.
i had had tickets for this performance when the pandemic started, and it got delayed for two whole years. worth the wait.
another former railroad right-of-way that has been turned into a trail with prairie remnants running along either side. this was a quickish stop on my way back from oshkosh to milwaukee (a bit out of the way but not so much i didn’t take the opportunity). after two+ days of silence, it was a treat to walk with the birds singing and the wind moving thru the new leaf buds.
again, not a terrible lot to report since it’s still early spring, but as ever i refuse to make this series about a particular nature-aesthetic and will continue making it about what i find when i go places, wherever whenever.
a.
april weather’s back
green and grey
pileated calls
b.
this morning’s raindrops
together
in new leaf-furling
c.
miniature mirror
of wetland
tussocks back to life
the jesuit retreat house sits on fahrney point in lake winnebago. had a silent retreat here for the first time last weekend. a real god-send. my nervous system recalibrated dramatically. a delight to listen to the northern flickers and cardinals, cranes every now and then. to simply walk the grounds and listen to the lake.
had my first dip in lake winnebago—crazy cold still and the mammal body recoiled but was invigorating. muskrats, mallards, a pileated woodpecker, turtles, jumping sturgeon, and a trio of white pelicans. trees budding and silence from lots of humans.
a.
cross of black and white
stretched between
blue clear and rippling
b.
glistening bodies
green and brown
splash in sheer delight
c.
small green legs on log
plop below:
amphibian life
d.
tree-perch
duckweed
frog-song
mussel shells forming an island in the inlet…
e.
great blue mass winging
at sunset
gracing fahrney point
f.
honk-plaint from field-geese—
uncovered
in meditation
g.
wishing i could lune
two herons
roosting in the dark
ha—that’s me in the willow. photo (taken before i knew he was there) courtesy of a friend i met on retreat!
a short stop at a 3-acre stretch of former railroad right-of-way converted into a path. along both sides soil from a former prairie has remained relatively undisturbed due to property rights and fire from train-wheels. big-blue stem dominant.
a soothing walk, lots of birdsong and wind in the trees. as with the last, not too much to report given the early spring timing, but well worth the time anyhow.
a.
catkins roar above
everything
just starting below
b.
black-cap twittering
blue jay chips
at last year’s milkweed
wetland complex in a larger wildlife area in winnebago cty. i was on silent retreat nearby, and had a larger break, so i silently drove twenty minutes to visit a couple sna’s. 🙂
there are three different units to this sna, only one of which actually meets up with marshy rush lake. the whole area is an oasis for migrating water birds. i chose the unit most readily available, which is a glacial habitat rehabilitation site, according to a sign posted near the parking area. interesting to see what they end up doing with it. in the meantime, seemed like a wet prairie, grading into marsh perhaps, but i didn’t go far enough in to get real wet. just had a good time walking around the dried grass and feeling the open breeze.
a.
two old oaks standing
in the wind
one reaches in jest
b.
slow rustle of grass
and leaf buds
land stretching awake
c.
someone or something
is crawling
beneath bleached grass stalks
if you made it this far: across the southern boundary highway, presumably blasting took place to expose the sandstone bedrock below this area. lots of blocky texture!
a sna we’ve visited several times, and that i’ve written about on several occasions.
but we went back again easter monday on a lark and weren’t disappointed. a gorge in the sandstone along skillet creek, we visited with the creek for a bit—one child fell in again, no worries—snail shell near the bank, huge lichen and walls of fern on the cliff face, and the barred owl we saw last year perched in the same tree. an idyllic surprisingly warm late-afternoon.
.
sixteen elf cups
and barred owl
cool in the pine boughs
a gorge cut into baraboo quartzite, cambrian sandstone, and conglomerate by the baraboo river. the scene here in the upper narrows is very interesting, with van hise rock (an outcropping that helped charles van hise of uw-madison geology fame articulate principles of structural deformation and metamorphism) popping up over the road along with old quarry scars and a public spring for drinking water.
a gorgeous, clear, unseasonably warm spring morning, me and the kiddos piled into the van and drove here from the dells where we were staying. we checked out the spring and van hise rock, then climbed a bluff to the southwest of the baraboo river.
couldn’t believe how game the kids were, going straight up the bluff, but the first really clear morning with sun and heat on the back and cardinals singing out over the valley—couldn’t resist. also, the first liverwort buds and trout lilies coming up. also took a moment down by the river to pay my respects. would like to get back here sometime.
a.
skirting gorge’s ridge
cardinal call
atop the cherries
b.
the upper narrows
at dawning
liverwort flowers
c.
baraboo river
cut quartzite
here and gone a thief
around five acres of forested bluff and shoreline on lake michigan just north of the city of milwaukee. a steep fall down a ravine off lake drive goes to a trail that skirts the line where lake michigan eats away at the coastal bluff. good beach time with my youngest today.
a.
down to the lakefront
past new squill
mussel shells abound
b.
agate and granite
schist and gneiss
my second son’s smile
a touching one from bernard durward’s 1882 collection poems, on the matter of his very young daughter who died in the 1850s:
hi folks. ballast is a new literary journal edited by two poets doing good work. they’ve kindly accepted two of my poems for issue #2—one a lune made in the california redwoods (hence the redwood sorrel pictures), the other a long section of my long natural-family-personal history poem (probably the work i’m proudest of in the last few years).
they also gave me the pleasure of recording audio for the poems. you can see and read them here, and do give a look around the rest of the issue while you’re there!
Jacob Riyeff 