The Full Sturgeon Moon marks a split of August in half as we near the end of week two. The calendar still beckons summer in the wilderness after a few more days of sultriness, but for some unexplained reason, the night winds seem to be blowing a light fall tune.
All full moons stand as moments of universal flare, but the Blueberry/Sturgeon Moon is special like other approaching quarterly lunar experiences. It signals passing of summer’s baton to an awaiting Wild Rice Moon in month nine, and the delivery of fall’s multicolored bounty. How exciting!
As I key this week’s news, the territory has settled into another of those dry spells. The temps have cooled to a wonderful pleasantness, yet front after front keeps passing the upper Gunflint with barely a drop of precipitation.
Foolishly, we get excited with this weather forecasting fraud, calling for rain. However, those cover-your-rear, 20-percent predictions just haven’t been cutting it in these parts. I have started to look at the prognostication scheme from an opposite perspective: there is an 80 percent chance that it won’t rain, and I’m almost always right on.
Anyway, all those little creeks that were gurgling with excitement following the big gully washer a few weeks ago are now thirsty rock beds. Meanwhile the surface level here on the Gunflint Gal has resumed its decline after being stabilized for several days after the July 20 deluge.
Declaring it early autumn may seem somewhat premature, but I see signs popping out here and there along the back country roads. Some ground cover has assumed its golden hue and the rose hips are anywhere from orange to deep maroon depending upon their patch locale. On another note, there is moose maple along the Mile O’ Pine already topped with their orange leaves and seed pods of brilliant scarlet.
If these subtle signs aren’t enough, over a dozen late summer blooms have brightened the northern forest in the past 10 days. From birds-foot trefoil to woodland sunflowers, and everything in between, backcountry flora is a menagerie of aurous hues.
There’s been a momma mallard hanging around the Wildersmith dock of late. She has three fluffy paddlers trailing in her wake. Folks down the lake indicated that she started with seven in her raft, but hungry pangs of the wild have depleted her family.
The tiny puffs hardly seem they’d be worth it, but I guess if some hungry critter gets enough of them it might silence the gnawing. I can only guess that the mini-duck dinners went to an eagle, a northern pike, one of those nasty snapping turtles or maybe all three.
Surviving to this point calls for the three remaining to do some fast growing, when I think that the call of nature for a southern flight to open waters is not far off. I find it hard to believe that they develop so rapidly when all they seem to do is float about skimming insects off the water. Guess those bugs must be mighty nutritious.
Residents and visitors are reminded once again of the big mid-Trail happening this weekend (Saturday). Find your way along the Trail to Fire Hall #1 around 1 p.m. for three hours of fun and fundraising. Crammed into the segment are the flea market, gift boutique, live auction and quilt raffle drawing. What better cause can we support than that of our Trail volunteer fire fighting and rescue teams?
By the way, that very firefighting crew we need to support nipped disaster in the bud when a fire broke out near a campsite in the Loon Lake vicinity this past Monday. Thanks to all who responded. It could have been bad as the winds grew vicious later in the same day.
Keep on hangin’ on, and savor the fading days of summer.
Airdate: August 12, 2011
Photo courtesy of Chauncer via Flickr.