haskell noyes is an oak and maple wood in the northern kettle moraine state forest in fond du lac cty. it was an early very cold day when we visited, and the serpentine trail up the interlobate moraine reminded me of how impressive the topography of this area is: dramatic, steep drop-offs; lowly, quiet kettles resting below; surprising plateaus between ridges; meandering piles of glacier-moved and -crunched earth.
gorgeous even at the height of winter-dark days.
a.
moss will hang on
winter-long
oak leaves underneath
photo credit to my 7-yr-old.
b.
in the firmament
golden light
thru white spread feathers
[this lune was based on our spotting of a bald eagle soaring on our approach to the forest…]
if you made it this far: there was quite a tip-up at the entrance to the wood that revealed in a lovely way how gravelly the interlobate moraine soil is. check it out:
i was reading a biography of henry i on my east village porch in milwaukee last summer toward dusk. as the bells for vespers rang down the street, things crystallized and suddenly a triolet (an 8-line, 2-rhyme form) was just the thing to write. here it is.
first off, let me say here that the state natural area program, the nation’s oldest state-wide system of natural areas, turns 70 this year. you can read about the program and the new directions they’re going here.
winter is here in wisconsin. this trip from last week up to fond du lac cty took us back to the kettle moraine state forest. it was colder than expected, but we made our pathless way up white kame. on hands and knees at points due to shrub growth and thorns, it was all worth it as we looked over the ground moraine prairie and wetlands below the glacial till cone. also in view from there and from the plain was dundee kame, a 250 ft kame just north of the sna.
kames are just not photogenic (at least without serious photo equipment), so the pictures simply don’t do justice to the steepness and dramatic topography involved in this glacial melt-water sculpture.
a.
white kame in its bulk
and lovely
advent on moraine
b.
jays to the left and right
no crane calls
in the open fields
if you made it this far, more oak grown solitary atop the kame:
i’ve admired lots of poems in foxglove journal over the last year or so, and so i was duly honored to hear that they’d accepted a poem of mine.
“bogquilt” is a quick read, my attempt at a meeting between seamus heaney’s historico-cultural attentiveness to bogs and lorine niedecker’s dense and playful gaze. it was made in snatches on our way to sapa spruce bog (which long-time readers may recall from sna poems” #25).
the milwaukee riverwalk goes from the former site of the north ave dam thru downtown and all the way out to where the river meets lake michigan. up by my area near the dam, just east of humboldt ave. bridge the fancy walk ends and it turns into a rougher path, which i happen to like a lot.
i had a bad headache a couple days ago that floored me for the morning, but in the afternoon i staggered out to clear the humors with a brisk walk in a cold, blustery, rainy milwaukee. headed down to my favorite spot between a couple white spruces right on the water to sit and watch the river flow past and on to the lake. some flowers were still putting their hearts into it, lichen and moss as well.
special thanks to the wisconsin dnr for helping me identify the white spruces!
donges bay gorge is a steep ravine that cuts thru an undulating bluff on its way down to lake michigan. this was part of a wealthy landowner’s swath of property but was purchased by the ozaukee washington land trust and, very thankfully, opened up to the public.
lots of spring ephemerals here during the early spring, but mostly going to sleep for the winter now. tho’ we met some delightful fungus, moss, and bark still doing their things. the lake could be heard whispering below and the low-angle sun cut faintly thru the trunks of white pine, maple, red oak, aspen, birch, and linden.
we were trying to get to a different preserve north of here, but it was closed for deer hunting. then we remembered donges bay gorge and how great it was, so we visited again. i think it deserves two slots in the supplementum series. why not?
a.
light snug on the gorge
drowsing forbs
invite us along
b.
water clutching rock
and resting:
a small frozen fall
c.
the mushrooms know well
it’s their time
below the white pines
look at that bark.
anyhow, if you made it this far, i’m thinking this is what it looks like when moss smiles:
hortonville bog is an open ericaceous bog in outagamie county. the southern portion has a wet-mesic forest, and i explored the wet edge of that area. not enough time to get up and thru to the actual sphagnum area of the bog, unfortunately.
we made a quick stop here on the way back from visiting my great-great-great grandfather’s grave near here. (his name was gaudenz ruosch and he was the first ruosch in my family tree to leave switzerland for wisconsin.) it was a beautiful trip altogether, on a brisk and windy november morning.
a.
november breezes
over grass
lichen clutching bark
b.
dark water tracks
labyrinthing
ericaceous growth
c.
golden plume of larch
and bird song
near grandfather bones
d.
flark growth
dark mirror
earth eye
photo credit to dad ^
if you made it this far: i was really taken back by the texture and color contrast b/t the berries and dolostone here. wisconsin fall.
gibraltar rock is a flat-topped butte made of platteville-galena dolomite and st. peter sandstone. it’s an isolated part of the magnesian escarpment, one of three north-south running escarpments in wisconsin. sandy soil, a prairie on the way up, red oaks and lindens, red cedars up at the top. beautiful dolomite, scalloped and lichenized abounding.
just a perfect upper-midwest fall day for encountering this butte and its many inhabitants. dreamy in the most active and vibrant way.
a.
the salidago
sun bathing
on magnesian flat
b.
baby cedar boughs
under cloud
making plateau way
c.
gnarling bark above
the abyss—
life on the cliff-face
d.
gentle cedar curves
nestling
the magnesium
erratic
if you made it this far: i noticed this desiccated forb with just an arresting form on the way up but didn’t have the camera. made a note to catch an image on the way back down and found it no problem b/c it stood out so much. don’t even know what it is, and don’t really care. it was a revelation.
also, this little pinecone was sitting on the edge of the cliff, just a perfect, understated still life. no staging required.
it’s strange to me that i haven’t yet visited this site for the series. atlas pit (it was re-named ‘kiwanis pond’ but i can’t bring myself to call it that from long and early association) is a former gravel quarry a couple blocks from where i grew up in janesville, wi (rock county).
the old story goes that atlas sand & gravel dug until they hit a spring and then it filled in. i haven’t been able to fact-check that to my satisfaction, but the pieces of confirmation i’ve found have lined up with the general story. sounds like it filled up in the ’50s.
my childhood neighborhood was at the top of the quarry, and the pit was down the hill in a green corridor near a large wooded park, another pond, and a golf course. i learned in my research on wisconsin natural history during the pandemic that my hometown sits atop one of the outwash fans of the last glaciation, and my neighborhood above the rock river is at the edge of the fan. so it actually makes very good sense that there’d be a gravel quarry here, and there are other quarries in the area.
we used to come down here to play frequently, and back then it felt like a forest, a real wild place. it’s not quite so expansive now as an adult, but there are still pockets that feel more remote than it really is. when i visited the wind was blowing on a cloudy morning, and it smelled of childhood and good life.
Jacob Riyeff 