To catch a glimpse of something unique, simply take a walk along a snow-covered trail, through a clump of native woodlands or along a quiet river bottom. Some quirk of nature will surely fill the mind with curiosity and zesty enthusiasm. Include a friend and the opportunities for such discovery double.
Randy Steiner stopped by one recent afternoon, ostensibly to catch a couple of hours of deer hunting before the season shuts down for another year. We both know, however, that it is not so much the hunt that intrigues us, but the opportunity to sit quietly in the woods, contemplating the hushed softness of snow flurries rushing down from an ashen sky and the inevitable surprises of nature that await the diligent observer.
Not more than 50 feet from the barn, I notice for the first time a buck rub on an aspen sapling. Most often associated with rutting activity of September, October and November, I surmise it must be an old wound, missed on earlier trips along the trail.
The evidence to the contrary is unmistakable, however. Fresh bark shavings lie atop the snow, and hock-studded hooves have left numerous pockmarks in the surrounding drifts. I understand it only as a late season manifestation of mating activity involving this year's doe fawns just now coming into estrus.
Unfortunately, a cruel fate often awaits their offspring as a late-arriving fawn in the late spring or early summer has precious little time to amass the fat supplies necessary to survive their first winter. Like our own inevitable mortality, the end result of the deer's tenure on earth is the same as any other creature. But the failure to at least reach adulthood seems tragic at any level.
Enough dark thoughts! Driven by a brisk southeasterly wind, the snow glides down around me, the flakes skipping along briefly before finding their allotted space among other similar, but invariably unique neighbors. The rapidly accumulating whiteness soon adds camouflage to my parka - not that it matters as the whitetails have apparently taken a different route on their way to dinner.
The day lends itself to reflection on the trials and triumphs of life, especially as 2009 winds to a close. As always, I've enjoyed meeting new people during the past year, each one sharing a unique and often times fascinating perspective. Each has a story to tell, without fail serving as a change agent for this aging outdoorsman still searching for greater understanding of why things are the way they are. Here are just a few examples:
• Bob Voegeli and Don Noble of Monroe left me with a greater appreciation of volunteer efforts to keep the Cheese Country Trail smooth and inviting for public users.
• Curious as to why Chuck Dearth's 40 acres near Wiota would harbor bears and bobcats, I crisscrossed the land with him one day to find out. The answer - lots of rabbits and other small mammals amidst an almost impenetrable wall of brutally thick brush.
• From DNR chief legal counsel Michael Lutz, I learned much about trespass laws and conservation warden responsibilities - a great conversation, but an enormous challenge to reduce the analysis to a few hundred words.
• I watched as members of the Blanchardville Rod & Gun Club cleared the Pecatonica River of a huge fallen tree blocking the way for those feeling compelled to paddle a canoe gently between its banks or flip a baited hook into a swirling pool. A gargantuan task taking up one whole day, the event served as a reminder of the selfless contributions of great numbers of community-minded individuals.
• Reading this past year included a couple of Gordon Macquarrie books on duck hunting on loan from friend Randy Palombi of Orfordville, revisits to Sigurd Olson's timeless masterpiece, "The Singing Wilderness" and multiple passages from the works of Aldo Leopold.
• Rob Wegner's "Classic Deer Camps" was a great read, but not nearly as interesting as spending time with the man, whose enthusiasm and knowledge of deer hunting lore is unsurpassed.
• Richard Moore's, "How the DNR Stole Wisconsin" was both disturbing and enlightening. I learned recently that the state's effort to force thousands of acres of shoreline properties in northern Wisconsin into non-conforming status has spilled over into the court system. Among all the frivolous lawsuits clogging our courts, this is not one of them.
For today, however, I am content to look upward for inspiration. A small opening in the snowy, overcast sky suggests there is much sunshine gracing the landscape somewhere to the west. Pale yellow and pink hues encircle a patch of light blue sky off in the distance.
Within that one small opening to the heavens, the snowflakes are much more noticeable, appearing like a swarm of bees whirling through the air. The occasion serves as a reminder that the individual flakes become visible only once they have spilled beneath the horizon - above it, they are discernible only as a massive gray shroud.
The events of the day prove once more that uncomplicated discoveries and simple pleasures are often the finest. As daylight wanes, thoughts wander to a quick debrief with Randy, a warm meal later on, and, best of all, some quiet time under the spell of a glowing fire.
- Lee Fahrney is the Monroe Times outdoors writer. He can be reached at (608) 967-2208 or at fiveoaks@mhtc.net.
Randy Steiner stopped by one recent afternoon, ostensibly to catch a couple of hours of deer hunting before the season shuts down for another year. We both know, however, that it is not so much the hunt that intrigues us, but the opportunity to sit quietly in the woods, contemplating the hushed softness of snow flurries rushing down from an ashen sky and the inevitable surprises of nature that await the diligent observer.
Not more than 50 feet from the barn, I notice for the first time a buck rub on an aspen sapling. Most often associated with rutting activity of September, October and November, I surmise it must be an old wound, missed on earlier trips along the trail.
The evidence to the contrary is unmistakable, however. Fresh bark shavings lie atop the snow, and hock-studded hooves have left numerous pockmarks in the surrounding drifts. I understand it only as a late season manifestation of mating activity involving this year's doe fawns just now coming into estrus.
Unfortunately, a cruel fate often awaits their offspring as a late-arriving fawn in the late spring or early summer has precious little time to amass the fat supplies necessary to survive their first winter. Like our own inevitable mortality, the end result of the deer's tenure on earth is the same as any other creature. But the failure to at least reach adulthood seems tragic at any level.
Enough dark thoughts! Driven by a brisk southeasterly wind, the snow glides down around me, the flakes skipping along briefly before finding their allotted space among other similar, but invariably unique neighbors. The rapidly accumulating whiteness soon adds camouflage to my parka - not that it matters as the whitetails have apparently taken a different route on their way to dinner.
The day lends itself to reflection on the trials and triumphs of life, especially as 2009 winds to a close. As always, I've enjoyed meeting new people during the past year, each one sharing a unique and often times fascinating perspective. Each has a story to tell, without fail serving as a change agent for this aging outdoorsman still searching for greater understanding of why things are the way they are. Here are just a few examples:
• Bob Voegeli and Don Noble of Monroe left me with a greater appreciation of volunteer efforts to keep the Cheese Country Trail smooth and inviting for public users.
• Curious as to why Chuck Dearth's 40 acres near Wiota would harbor bears and bobcats, I crisscrossed the land with him one day to find out. The answer - lots of rabbits and other small mammals amidst an almost impenetrable wall of brutally thick brush.
• From DNR chief legal counsel Michael Lutz, I learned much about trespass laws and conservation warden responsibilities - a great conversation, but an enormous challenge to reduce the analysis to a few hundred words.
• I watched as members of the Blanchardville Rod & Gun Club cleared the Pecatonica River of a huge fallen tree blocking the way for those feeling compelled to paddle a canoe gently between its banks or flip a baited hook into a swirling pool. A gargantuan task taking up one whole day, the event served as a reminder of the selfless contributions of great numbers of community-minded individuals.
• Reading this past year included a couple of Gordon Macquarrie books on duck hunting on loan from friend Randy Palombi of Orfordville, revisits to Sigurd Olson's timeless masterpiece, "The Singing Wilderness" and multiple passages from the works of Aldo Leopold.
• Rob Wegner's "Classic Deer Camps" was a great read, but not nearly as interesting as spending time with the man, whose enthusiasm and knowledge of deer hunting lore is unsurpassed.
• Richard Moore's, "How the DNR Stole Wisconsin" was both disturbing and enlightening. I learned recently that the state's effort to force thousands of acres of shoreline properties in northern Wisconsin into non-conforming status has spilled over into the court system. Among all the frivolous lawsuits clogging our courts, this is not one of them.
For today, however, I am content to look upward for inspiration. A small opening in the snowy, overcast sky suggests there is much sunshine gracing the landscape somewhere to the west. Pale yellow and pink hues encircle a patch of light blue sky off in the distance.
Within that one small opening to the heavens, the snowflakes are much more noticeable, appearing like a swarm of bees whirling through the air. The occasion serves as a reminder that the individual flakes become visible only once they have spilled beneath the horizon - above it, they are discernible only as a massive gray shroud.
The events of the day prove once more that uncomplicated discoveries and simple pleasures are often the finest. As daylight wanes, thoughts wander to a quick debrief with Randy, a warm meal later on, and, best of all, some quiet time under the spell of a glowing fire.
- Lee Fahrney is the Monroe Times outdoors writer. He can be reached at (608) 967-2208 or at fiveoaks@mhtc.net.
