My Great Nine-Day Adventure

Day 2
I put some corn out last night and this morning I’m watching all of the critters prepare for winter as they bury it all around the yard.

Just gathered two buckets full of kindling for the winter-would gather more (there’s plenty for the taking) but I’m not sure where I’d put more of it. I’m sure it’ll be much appreciated when the ground is covered with four feet of snow in a couple months.

Came within a foot of a little chipmunk that had his cheeks packed to the max with corn I’d set out. He looked at me as if to say “thank you”.

I’m beginning to wonder if the loons have gone for the year already. I have yet to hear or see th em. Perhaps just the young are left here now. I’m not sure if the babies would call out at all—even if they did have a sibling on the lake.

I’m now sitting on the pier up north with a tray table, Endgame, a banana, a camera, a phone, and binoculars (oh, and a water bottle). I suppose that the phone is a breach in the ‘cut off from technology’ security—but I justified it by saying my mother would be worried if she called and I didn’t answer. It really is amazing how sound travels on this lake.

I haven’t seen any mammals larger than squirrels yet up here, but there are some strange droppings in the yard that make me think something larger—a badger or something of comparable size—is nearby.

I’m wearing a tube top-trying to get a last ditch attempt at a tan before the six month winter sets in. I think I’m still in denial about summer being almost over.

I was just thinking—how many mascots are endangered in their home states? The Badgers for instance—I’ve lived my whole life in this state and have not once seen one in the wild—not that running into one would be a fun filled experience per say. But, it would be one I should have had by now if they were so prevalent as to name a team in my state after them.
There’s a Musky fishing competition today so there are more boats than usual on the lake. I can see two right now in our small bay alone.

I sat, peaceful, serene, on the aluminum pier—not considering at all how unnatural the metal was—then with a glance toward the brown water lake I saw, clearly and without question the top from a soda or beer can about four feet down. What careless individual would go through the trouble of pulling the top off just to toss it into the lake and where is the can?

An airplane sounds so out of place in these woods, yet there it goes heading somewhere north of here.

“Even the trees in cities are in cages” Derrick Jensen

They are cutting down trees across the lake from me. Two have crashed to their deaths so far and they are working on a third. All I can see from here are their top branches as they fall and then I hear the crash as they touch the ground for the first time. The leaves would have fallen naturally in about two weeks, but now at least 30 years of growth lies dying on the ground. What purpose does this serve? Likely nothing more than a better view. Yet I myself write these words on a processed downed tree.

2:50pm Day 2
I got my answer to the loon question. There’s at least one I just heard it.

There are now two mature loons in the bay and one is acting quite strange. I’ve seen them “dance” before but this is different than anything I’ve ever seen. It will sink partway under water then flap its wings like mad as if to swim or take off but at the wrong depth for either. At first he was actually rolling in the water and I thought something like a musky might be attacking him. I was really worried but then I saw what I can only assume is a mate in the bay too—about one hundred yards from him and I felt much better.
Later: Two parent loons and a full grown baby-still in his/her adolescent plumage. That’s who they were calling to earlier I assume.

They may have stayed in the bay for hours if not for the asshole boat of fishermen that basically drove right at them. Grr! Motorboats, another way we are fucking up nature. The row boat promoted fitness, didn’t pollute—and didn’t scare the shit out of wildlife.

“The best and most courageous and most sincere of our efforts are never sufficient to the task of stopping those who would destroy.” Derrick Jensen

Red squirrels are far from quiet as they move about in the early fall. I just saw one in the yard behind me (I tried to film this with my camera but messed something up). I turned around and he froze, looking at me. He then rose to his hind legs (all five inches of his height) and started making these high pitched chirping sounds at me. He sprinted to the tree overlooking the lake by me, ran up and down it continuing his noises and glared at me for a good two minutes!

Later yet: WOW is all I can say. Who in their right mind drives a pontoon boat directly at an animal? ESPECIALLY a protected animal like a loon? What the fuck, I’m livid. I wish I had a boat right now so I could go fucking punch that guy driving the two jackasses that were and the boat who didn’t tell the driver to stop. The poor loons dove at the last minute.

Two hours later: I just sat for two hours watching the loons in our bay, always from a distance, smiling and totally at ease. They never went near a pier and then, just now, the mates came up within 20 feet of me. They looked at me, spread their wings for me and with one short call from one to the other they dove away. I feel that somehow they knew that even if it took swimming out to that boat that I would have kept them safe one way or another.

The squirrel is chirping to me again as if to tell me that I am right.

I love it when it’s no challenge to imagine a place as it was one hundred years ago. It’s so simple here. Remove the piers and you’re pretty much there. The loud motor boat and water skier that just almost took out the loons would have to go as well. I wish this was a non-motorized lake. Or one with an idiot test to enter.

Wildlife seen today:
Red Squirrels
Loons
Blue Jays
Grey Squirrels
Wildlife heard today:
Ducks
Loons