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Yesterday, birds and squirrels converged in the backyard. There were chickadees at the feeder (they prefer sunflowers to peanuts), blue jays at the bird bath, gray squirrels burying acorns in my tree mulch, and robins everywhere. Even though some of the robins and geese spend their winters in town, they all continue to gather in September to talk ( Read more... )

The agrarian landscape has sunk into my genes.  I often take it for granted that other people see what I see, that my home is their home.  But that is not true.  This is a special time of year to be at home.  I may not have the mountains or the oceans, the hills or the hollers.  But I am able to take in the golden wheat, the burnt umber bean fields ( Read more... )

 
I love late summer on the open prairie.  We are waking up to cool mornings now, but still benefit from the glow of warm light.  The mosquitoes are waning and the ticks are almost gone.  Around midday, white butterflies gather around the purple vetch to sip nectar.  I am not familar with their scientific name, but I do believe they should be called ( Read more... )

In an effort to save money, the USPS is looking to trim service from many rural post office locations.  The list of potential closures includes many small towns in Minnesota, including our current location, and the location where I first received letters from my penpal-turned-wife.

Separating nostalgia from practicality seems almost impossible.  It' ( Read more... )

 In the north when winter's claw
Relaxes now to keep the laws of Nature in control


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Spring life hasn't sprung so much as been roused half-awake from a deep torpor.  Around here, it takes weeks before scenes like the one below will fade into the darkest of cold memories.  Seeds and roots and buds shake off the dust and stumble around, reaching for the warm, resurrected sun.  But once they are fully awake, watch out!  Waters will ( Read more... )

What a wild time of year.  There is tension in the air; everything feels like it is itching to transform.  We all ache for spring -- the trees, the mammals, the insects, and the soil.  Tonight will bring another blizzard.  But I will place my hopes with that of the birds.  For out in the trees, I hear the rat-a-tat-tat-tat of woodpeckers disputing ( Read more... )

 Watch a wily white winter weasel.  And hear genuine Minnesota dialects!