Perfect Ending

Sunday was a perfect spring day.  It was the final day of our annual gathering of the Northern Ale Stars homebrew guild, and it provided the weather we had all been waiting for.  Two days prior, it had snowed, not surprisingly.  But when the skies cleared and the sun's warmth penetrated our bodies, we all breathed a big sigh of gratitude,  and gathered for some relaxation.

The temptation was strong to launch a watercraft, ice cold water notwithstanding.  But somehow, we couldn't muster the energy to put the barge into the water.  It was just so wonderful to sit and welcome the warmer weather while enjoying a good beer.  In my case, I was having some tasty mead, made with honey and berries.  A little like wine, a little like beer, it was all good.

Later, as the skies began to cloud up, we moved to the campfire circle.  Once the sun disappears, reality comes back to remind us that we are still early in this new season.  We had good conversation and many laughs, while listening to an occasional song from the ukelele. 

It was a great way to finish out a wonderful weekend with some longtime friends, and a good way to welcome springtime to the Northwoods.

Early Spring Continues

It's hard to imagine that the lake could be open in late March, but here is the proof:

After lighting the bread oven fire, I walked down to the landing, and then to our point.  The eye cannot see far, due to the light fog, but from all accounts, no ice remains to the west on Gunflint Lake.  To the east is another story:

I find it interesting that it has not pulled away from shore as much in this direction.  The wind hasn't come up strong, so the ice isn't moving and pushing as much as it does in some years.  Those are the dramatic times in ice-out history. Watching the slabs push up on shore, knocking over young trees and moving rocks is pretty awesome.  It's much quieter this year. 

The overnight temps still remain above freezing.  I noticed my little tulips nosing their way through the ground.  The rhubarb is showing red nubs, the precursor to the long shoots yet to come.  Everywhere there is water running, in the ditches, the culverts and the creeks.  We received some rain in the last couple of days, for which everyone is grateful. The sun is scheduled to return tomorrow, but the temps are not supposed to be as high as they had been. 

As I've mentioned over the last few days, I feel ill-prepared for the speed of Mother Nature as of late.  Obviously, I am not alone in this.

When a creature such as this snowshoe hare depends on its camoflauge to hide from predators, it must come as a shock to be caught so unawares.  Driving down the road recently, it was easy to spot four of these dudes.  Some guests reported seeing more than a dozen.  The first few were a novelty, and then they were popping up everywhere!  These folks also got to see a pack of wolves, and a cow moose with her yearling.  It's good to know that the animals are still out and about. 

While I might rather be skiing the trails right now, the hike I took up to the South Rim on Tuesday was quite nice nonetheless.  Wearing just a sweatshirt over my tee shirt, I actually was getting hot while hiking.  The view was spectacular, and again, I could see evidence of plant life awakening.  It's good to be headed into this new season. 

Spring Rain

The rains began sometime in the night.  It was comforting to hear the familiar drumming on our metal roof, and early in the morning, it lulled  me into a few more minutes of sleep.  Today we are having our first fire in the woodstove in nearly a week. The lodge has that cozy feeling conducive to reading by the fireside for the whole afternoon.  Even on a grey day, it still is pretty out.

For a brief spell, fog and mist were rising on the lake, a product of warm rain heating the cold mass.  I watched as it swirled up, and then eventually swallowed competely our view of Canada.  Most often it is a snowstorm that obscures our view, but spring fog can do the same.  It is much more mysterious, and it makes me wonder what it would feel like to be out in the midst of it.  Fishermen have talked about being on the lake in such fog, and without a compass, it is pretty tough navigating. 

Today, no one is on the ice, save for an occasional raven, crow or seagull that I see landing.  The last ice house was pulled off on Monday evening, and it was accomplished with lots of pushing and shoving, as well as a boat to get to it.  We are still surprised to think of a boat being launched so early.  I recall tales from a longtime guest, who told me of pushing their boat over ice on Memorial Weekend.  The goal was Little Gunflint Lake, and they used big forks to pull the boat along.  One foot in, one foot out of the boat, there was no way to do it without getting wet.  Determination was likely their greatest fuel.  No worries of that happening this year.

 The birds are singing in the rain, the pussy willows are out, and I see small green buds swelling on the lilac bush.  In my twenty-six years here, I still find new and amazing things to ponder in the woods. 

Ahead of Schedule

Here in the Northwoods, we are used to waiting until well past the calendar date for spring to begin.  Snow, sleet, rain and ice are all a part of March and April.  When many folks are planting their gardens, we are still tending seeds in the house. Window washing waits until May. We don't bring out the patio furniture until nearly Memorial weekend.  So when the weather decides to change in the way that it did this week, it really can catch me off guard.

Last week, someone said that it felt like spring outside.  I disagreed, noting that it didn't yet smell that way.  But when the temperatures headed up to the sixties, and now today all the way to seventy, there was no denying it.  It smells, looks, and feels like spring.  I can't recall seeing the snow melt so fast.  We still have the big piles that the plow created, but all the rest just looks like those late-winter dirty patches.  Mud is everywhere.  The birds are singing their new season songs.  A butterfly hatched itself on the porch today.  We even have flies in the air.  I feel like perhaps we've skipped a month, and it really is April 16. 

Our weekly activity of soup and bread in the tent was enjoyed today in tee shirts.  Paul even had shorts on.  We are soaking up the sunshine like it is a long lost friend satisfying our thirst for news.   The pressure ridge on the lake is once again defined, since the snow on top of the ice has melted away.  Could that really have only been two months ago that it first popped up? 

Like the true Minnesotan that I am, however, I refuse to believe that it will all be warm breezes and  blooming crocuses from here on out.  I remember many years ago, heading to town in my best spring outfit, as the days had been behaving just like this.  The next day, we had a huge blizzard, and out came the winter clothes again.  The hardest part is how my body so quickly adapts to the warmth, but does not respond as readily to the downturn.  That can sometimes feel painful.

So I'll enjoy today for what it is, and as the thermometer trends downward next week (as it is predicted to do), I'll keep the sweaters and turtlenecks close by.  The scent of spring can linger as long as it likes.  That is one sweet perfume I wouldn't mind all year long.