Opening our eyes to receive what is there for us to see…

 Yesterday I got up early and drove to the North shore of Lake Superior. Highway 1 runs from the East side of Ely to the North shore. It is a winding, rolling, narrow road through some pretty remote country. Countryside inhabited by wolves and moose. OK, so there are a few other animals out there: Black Bear, White Tail Deer, Red and Grey Fox, Bald Eagles, Ringed Necked Ducks, Common Loons, Common Mergansers, and a few others. The difference is, I’ve seen each of the aformentioned animals in the wild over the last 16 days here in Minnesota. Yes I’ve seen wolves here, but the caged variety don’t count, I want to see them live and in the wild.

Spotted these on the drive on Highway 1

So, let’s get back to my drive on Highway 1 to the coast of Lake Superior on Sunday. I woke early, specifically to get on the road at a time when the wild things were more likely to be out and about(How to write that with a Yooper accent?). I drove extra slow. I had just read in The Little Book of Contemplative Photography about how the Native American hunters “are said to have conditioned themselves to see everything but focus on nothing. In that way, anything that appeared, even at the very edges of peripheral vision, would catch their attention.” And being fascinated, as I am, by the Native American culture’s connection with creation, I attempted to practice this sort of mindfulness as I drove through the wilds of northern Minnesota on Highway 1. (In all honesty this is how I drive most of the time. My daughters can attest to this. They don’t always appreciate my ability to point out the hawk or deer, or fox along the road while I’m driving. But this day I was especially attentive)

Ring Necked Ducks

Taken in the midst of a torrential downpour

Of course I needed to focus on the road as I drove, which hindered my ability to fully enter into the experience. But, I did my best to keep on the road and “see everything”. I’m convinced I just missed a number of really exciting animals. I think I passed a moose and calf almost certainly just ready to cross the road. And there was a wolf pack preparing for a hunt that had just entered the woods when I rounded one corner. Another bear was just peering out of the woods when I happened to be looking at the other tree line. I remember one of the 3 times I went deer hunting (unsuccessfully I have to admit, which is why I raise my own beef. I have to keep my meat animals penned up so I can find them when I want to.) and I had to choose between several different tree stands to sit in for the morning. The whole time I was convinced that the big Buck was walking right in front of one of the other stands that I could’ve chosen. Which makes any sighting of wildlife all the more exciting and significant.

Oh yeah! I did see a black bear on Saturday evening. I was coming home from town, not more than 2 miles from my cabin, and there, just emerging from the underbrush and the trees right next to the road was a black bear. I slowed and wanted to stop but it was a bad place in the road to stop. So I went by and turned around, readying my camera in the process. When I returned, the bear was still there and another car was stopped in the middle of the road. As I came up, the bear raised up on its hind legs, looked at me and ran back into the woods. Unfortunately, there are no pictures to share. I drove right up to the place where the bear entered the woods and it was just peaking out of the brush. Before I had a chance, the bear took off into the woods.

The next time I drove by that spot I slowed, anticipating another sighting, but nothing emerged. I know that bear is out there. I have seen it now for myself. I wish I could share a picture of it like I have with my birds, or flowers, or landscapes. But it was not to be. What a thrill though and, so much more satisfying than watching the wolves in the enclosure at the International Wolf Center.

Yesterday I was around the Wilderness Wind base camp without much to do. I did two loads of laundry. And, as my wet clothes were drying in the gentle breeze and bright sunshine I just decided to take my camera out and see what there was to receive through my telephoto lens. I knew there were some Columbine on the slope next to the drive, and so I started there. From there, my eye was caught by a yellow butterfly (Eastern Tiger Swallowtail, I believe) and I was thrilled with a picture of it on a bright yellow dandelion. Next was a tiny little moth/butterfly that came in and seemed to dance for a bit with the larger one. Next, I moved up the drive and was attracted by a flying insect that landed, upon closer observation I was dazzled by a brilliant, iridescent green beetle. After some research on the Minnesota DNR website I’m pretty sure it is a Laurentian Tiger Beetle, common only in Ontario, Manitoba, and Minnesota. And, only in the North Eastern most counties of Minnesota. I am thrilled to have seen one. And then, a wild rose caught my eye with multiple bugs wrestling on it. I found what I would say is a Sweet Pea on the slope beside the kitchen. And finally I walked the Cedar bog boardwalk and found a Marsh Marigold along with stunning green ferns, moss, and other plan painted with the afternoon light streaming through the cedar trees.   

Last night then after watching the exciting World Cup soccer match between the US and Ghana I headed home and took a canoe out on the lake. After several unsuccessful casts with the fishing pole I settled into the bottom of the canoe to enjoy the sunset. I had purposefully chosen not to take my camera and just enjoy the sights and sounds and sensations. The Loons were calling. The lake was completely still with the sun and clouds and trees reflecting off of it like a sheet of glass. But I couldn’t help myself. First I pulled out my phone to record the awesome sounds of the Loons calling. Next I took a picture of the sun as it was shining through the clouds and reflecting off the lake. Pretty soon the battery in my phone was dead and the colors and clouds in the sky were rapidly getting more and more complex and awe inspiring. I found myself paddling back to shore to get my real camera.

On my way back I noticed a man standing in the cattails beside our landing area. He was straining on the end of a fishing pole. Sure enough he had a fish. And a pretty good sized one I could tell from the splashing and the bend of his pole. I saw him pacing back and forth in the cattails trying to figure out how he was going to land this big fish without it getting all tangled in the weeds or getting his pants and shoes wet. Really wanting to get to shore and get my camera, I reluctantly asked if there was anything I could do. Appreciatively he asked if I could retrieve his net in the boat that was tied up at shore. After doing so he took the net and fearing that he would lose his big fish before he could land it, he waded into the water working to get the big fish into his net. It was obvious he was thrilled with his catch. I quickly went for my camera. But upon returning he quickly asked if I would take a picture with him and his father and the big fish. Again, I reluctantly agreed. The colors and the cloud formations were incredible. My lens was not nearly wide enough to take it all in. After clicking a few pictures I finally gave in and simply began turning in circles attempting to take the wonder of it all in. The way the waning light reflected off the clouds, the subtle and vibrant pinks and blues and various shades of white. Such variety and character. Simply incredible.

And here again, just like the sighting of the bear, I am unable to offer you a picture that will convey the gift that I received through my eyes. I’m sure each of you knows that feeling. The challenge of having seen something and yet not being able to capture in words, or a photograph, or even a video just how incredible what you witnessed really was. And then it’s gone. But you know what you’ve seen. And perhaps you will never see it again. And that is perfectly OK, just as long as you don’t stop looking, anticipating something incredible. And just as long as you don’t stop trying to share what you have seen and experienced with others.