Pow Wow
At M’Chigeeng. Interesting, but mainly as a chance to chat with Algis. Good crowd enjoying a good hobnob along with the fine weather.
Also vast amounts of terrifying junk food.
Earlier in the day, a little sailing.
Photo by John
At M’Chigeeng. Interesting, but mainly as a chance to chat with Algis. Good crowd enjoying a good hobnob along with the fine weather.
Also vast amounts of terrifying junk food.
Earlier in the day, a little sailing.
Photo by John
…and low temperatures. Drenching thunderstorm last evening, so all things still growing well watered.
Joint effort with Pinebox on fish (Purvis whitefish dredged and then cooked on our outdoor griddle) tacos, with local ground cherries and side-yard cilantro as part of the pico.
Earlier in the day, in fact very early, over to Prov. Bay to watch dredging of Mindemoya River, done to accommodate salmon schooling offshore.
Followed by breakfast with Therese. and Marc at the restaurant run by Russians.
When the power goes out across Manitoulin you get the kind of real dark few people ever experience. Dark the way it used to be. It took us a few minutes to close the books we were reading and get a few candles going, and then, before long it was time for bed. Hydro posted an anticipated restoration of midnight, but shortly after we had settled in the power came back on—and we felt disappointed. Real dark is actually rather nice.
How dark was it, you ask. Clearly, the answer is obvious—darker than the inside of a cow.
Strong wind, squalls, sun, a brief shower, now chilly—house all closed up and sweatshirts on.
A few leaves tinged with red and gold. Really? This soon?
If a picture…
Decent rain last night, but even more wind.
Below, various stretches of the “woods walk” Pax and I take daily, and that the grandkids took when they were here.
It makes a nice loop, the same route but always different.
In other news, big party here this evening in honor of the departing Lloyd’s.
~~~~~~~~~~~
The Path
RUNNING along a bank, a parapet
That saves from the precipitous wood below
The level road, there is a path. It serves
Children for looking down the long smooth steep,
Between the legs of beech and yew, to where
A fallen tree checks the sight: while men and women
Content themselves with the road and what they see
Over the bank, and what the children tell.
The path, winding like silver, trickles on,
Bordered and even invaded by thinnest moss
That tries to cover roots and crumbling chalk
With gold, olive, and emerald, but in vain.
The children wear it. They have flattened the bank
On top, and silvered it between the moss
With the current of their feet, year after year.
But the road is houseless, and leads not to school.
To see a child is rare there, and the eye
Has but the road, the wood that overhangs
And underyawns it, and the path that looks
As if it led on to some legendary
Or fancied place where men have wished to go
And stay; till, sudden, it ends where the wood ends.
Neither hot nor cold. Warming sun, cooling shade. Long, unhurried hours. Cricket trill and cicada buzz. A pervading sense of peacefulness. Suspended animation. Time slowed, and the space between summer and fall caught in amber.
…and boats to the beach.
Photo by John
And here we have beet juice fractals spreading into Asian sauce.
Dinner was good
Weather highly perfect.
Sweatshirt weather. Gray battleship clouds. Peas done. Late-planted beans flowering. First ripe tomatoes yesterday. North wind off the water, carrying loon calls.
Monarch overnighting on larch
Fish dip and smoked trout on the lower deck
…for fish and chips, of course.
Very necessary annual event—and the place will be closing for the season soon. Delicious.
And here is some Stone Age art we saw at the Muchmore. Just pebbles and a glue gun. This year lamps, next year pebble pictures.
…now, ready for launch—next year—which will be all the more sweet for this missed season.
On the soundtrack today: crow, jay nuthatch, chickadee, kingfisher, loon, woodpecker hammering, and merganser splashing. See below for a selection of videos made by Bri last week.
Big spruce, part of the dense forest, right to the water’s edge, where the land has not been cleared
A special post featuring Brian’s GoPro videos.
Cedars heavily loaded with seeds.
Lots of spruce cones too. But no Tamiasciurus hudsonicus to enjoy the bounty. Haven’t heard or seen a little red squirrel in the last month. The trees were stingy the past two years, and apparently got rid of their perceived threat. I’m just hoping that some squirrels have survived on the Island, and that next year the population will spread from wherever that is back to here. The forest is diminished without Tamia.
Pretty much everything reset from family gathering place to to quiet, out-of/the-way, natural retreat.
Forlorn sandbox
Cinqfoil
Bri’s lake trout on the menu tonight—prepared and cooked here but taken to Pinebox for the actual serving. Irrigated in a mix of egg, milk, and butter, then dredged in a mix of flour, cornmeal, and saltine crumbs. Fried on the outdoor griddle in just a little oil.
Sensational. Loud acclaim and cries of “more!”
Lots of moisture today. Light rain at 5:30 as the Nies contingent was boarding for departure, followed minutes later by a heavy downpour. Then, just after noon, another round of precip, this time an hour or more of rain coming down heavy as stair rods. Good for the forest and garden, and no threat of a fire ban this summer, thank the lucky stars.
Abby, Katy, and Will on the road back to Wisconsin by 5:30 a.m. Nies family, while still busy, slowly gathering and packing up for a 5:30 start tomorrow. Bri able to spend a few hours fishing the big water with Andrew.
Lake trout
More Pinebox lamps
…and the rock maze, the tree maze, Chocolate Works, to the marina by Wilker, to the driveway for the dance show, etcetera—in other words three days worth of fun shoehorned into one day.
…and market day. A variety of delicious pizzas, all made by cousins (with dough by Mary Ellen).
From a.m lamp making at Pinebox to evening native dance around the fire pit, another full day, including lunch and exploration in Gore Bay.