Spring ephemerals: wildflowers that bloom for only a few days in the spring.
Last week I took a couple jaunts out to Nerstrand Big Woods State Park, one of my favorite parks in the area. Springtime in Nerstand always shows off its wildflowers before the trees leaf out. In spring the sunshine can reach and nourish the plants. We had an especially cold, windy and dreary April, so it seemed the many varieties of wildflowers decided to all pop up at once in May. It was spectacular.
Marsh marigold (yellow) in the background.
I was able to participate in a wildflower walk with the new park naturalist at Nerstrand. As our group walked along the path towards Hidden Falls, he identified many different plants.
Lots of water flowing over Hidden Falls at Nerstrand Big Woods State Park.
Trillium
Jack-in-the-Pulpit
It was a good refresher course for me…each year I like to wander through the park and try to identify the spring flowers. I forget some over the year, and like to be reminded of their names.
False rue anemone.
Meadow Rue
The rare – grown only a few places in Minnesota and nowhere else in the world – the dwarf trout lily, was in bloom. It is always special to see that tiny, kernel of rice-size flower.
Photo taken in 2021. I used my finger to show perspective.
It was a sunny, glorious day as we hiked the trail. Not so windy, as it has been, and is, as I write this post.
Blue skies and spring greens.
A favorite: Spring Beauty
Bellwort
Soon the tree leaves will cover the forest floor in shade, and the beautiful spring flowers will go dormant and wait until next spring to resurrect once again.
It was a dreamy evening, the other night…after dark…sitting on the deck, watching the lunar eclipse. It was called the blood moon. I learned, “a “Blood Moon” happens because the sunlight shining directly onto Earth passes through the atmosphere and is projected onto the moon–giving it a red tone during the eclipse.*” It was amazing to watch. I’ve always been fascinated by the moon……
Photo of a postcard, with a moonrise watercolor by Dee Teller.
This was happening after a long day. We had driven up north of Brainerd – and back home again – to attend my uncle’s memorial service.
The cover of the memorial service brochure. All the stockings of this family hung with care. Christmas 2021.
Uncle Bob was 94 years old when he died, last December. I last saw him in August. He was in fairly good health (he drove us to his granddaughter’s cabin down the road a couple of miles), although his hearing had deteriorated a lot.
A favorite photo of Uncle Bob in Norway.
My uncle, my dad’s brother, was a kind and loving man. He was special to both Gary and I, and many others. His memorial service was well attended. They had a wonderful program and fun photos all around. During the luncheon afterwards, some of the grandchildren handed out a scrolled-up piece of paper with a ditty about…If you find a penny think of Bob. I dismissed it as cute…but not apropos.
Some of Bob Kallestad’s family.
Later, as I was sitting on the deck and going over the day’s events in my mind, I found myself lamenting the fact that I didn’t have an elder in my life to talk things over with anymore. I found myself talking to Uncle Bob a bit that night on the deck, in the dark, watching the moon disappear – and soon Gary came and joined me as we watched the lunar eclipse together.
When we went in for the night, I stepped into my closet for something and as I reached to turn out the light there was a penny on the closet floor. An unlikely place to find a penny.
We were reminiscing about old-time corner grocery stores and Lersberg’s Foods was mentioned as a must see. So, on a recent Sunday afternoon drive we headed for Ellendale, MN a small-town south of Northfield.
The banner for Lerberg’s Foods in Ellendale, Minnesota.
It was easy to find the food market in this small town of about 760. Right there on the main street, on the corner…with the banner indicating Lersberg’s Foods, Est. 1901.
We walked in and immediately felt like we stepped back in time…
Narrow aisles, full of merchandise.
The store was well-stocked and clean, small with narrow aisles and beautiful wooden floors, and one check-out counter.
I was trying to be inconspicuous while taking this photo of the moose-head, with the faded photo of the hunter underneath…
Oh, and there is a moose head displayed on the wall. Apparently, it’s been there a long while, and has become a trademark of the store. There was a faded photo hanging underneath the moose head, of the man (Mr. Lerberg???) who shot the moose and it looked quite old.
The old-fashioned corner grocery store in Ellendale, Minnesota.
We took our time and meandered the three aisles and picked out some groceries to buy in support of the old-time market. Several people said hi or some other nice comment…It was a fun place to visit and worth the drive to see it.
Afterwards we drove the backroads to Owatonna and walked in Kaplan Woods Park.
As we walked along the river trail the other morning, we heard an unusual number of birds singing. The sound ramped up as we got closer to the hundreds of birds we could not see (except for a few in the treetops) but it sounded like a huge choir of birds, and not the normal bird songs one hears in the spring. Loud chirping was more like it. We took notice.
As we walked through this moment, we passed some walkers and they commented on the sound from the birds. I recognized one of the walkers as the orchestra conductor at St. Olaf College…I said to him as we passed, “I think the birds need a conductor.” His group also commented on the number of birds there must be to make loud “music” like that.
Gary and I continued on and all at once there was silence!
Not one bird sound. They all stopped at the exact same moment…for about five seconds.
Silence.
Then, just as quickly as they stopped, the birds resumed their singing again, loudly again. We looked at each other and Gary quipped, “They must have had to turn the page.” I laughed.
The conductor said he’d love to see all the birds take off at once. That would be a sight to see.
I do love birds…to watch them at the feeders and see them in nature, to admire their unique beauty and hear their sweet songs.
Recently, in my writing session, I learned about a new (to me) writing pattern… syllables crescendo up and then decrescendo back down. In my poem that follows, I started with two syllables in the first line, and worked up to seven syllables, then repeated seven, and worked back down to two.
The house my dad built in northeast Minneapolis, where I grew up.
The prompt: Describe a day in the life of your childhood.
Get up.
Eat breakfast.
Do a few chores.
Go outside and play.
The neighborhood gang waits.
Play until it’s time for lunch,
then go out to play some more.
Go inside for supper.
Go out until dusk.
Then in, once more
Go to bed.
Repeat.
Obviously, this is exaggerated, but I do look back with fondness and gratefulness for my childhood. Which was so very different than my husband’s, who grew up on a farm in Pennsylvania. His was a happy childhood, too.
My friend wrote a story about ants, which prompted a memory from my childhood involving ants. I grew up in northeast Minneapolis. Across the street from me lived my two best friends: Donna and Diane. This story, and many childhood memories, involve them. I don’t have many pictures of the three of us…but I found a couple pictures from Christmastime with the three of us and my brother.
This photo was taken in 1958 of my brother, Donna, Diane and me (L to R).
Here’s my story: Ants
I don’t remember whose idea it was to sneak treats up to the cabin, but we thought it would be a fun thing to do. My “partners in crime” were my best friends at the time, two sisters who lived across the street from me, Donna and Diane. Our parents were good friends…they met when there was a surge of families moving into a new neighborhood in Northeast Minneapolis, in the early 1950’s.
We moved into the house my dad built when I was six months old, and I grew up there, with the same neighbors for the most part. There was a huge gang of kids in the neighborhood. And it was a fun place to grow up. I didn’t move out of the house my dad built, until after high school.
My parents had a large group of friends (with young families) that connected on a regular basis. They had coffee together, played bridge together, went camping together and rented cabins at the same resorts together. It was a family of friends. And Donna and Diane’s family, as well as mine, were a part of this group from the beginning.
Donna, Diane and I played together daily. We played outside, we had overnights, we played dress up, we played games, we had fun together, we grew up together. So, going up to a lake resort was a common outing for us. I now understand what a privilege it was to go to the resorts…but I guess since our family didn’t have a cabin – yet my parents wanted the cabin experience – the next best thing was to rent one.
As our parents planned another trip, we three girls planned our own shenanigans. I’m pretty sure we had enough to eat on these weekend get-aways, and probably more than enough snacks, so why we thought we needed to buy more snacks to sneak up to the cabin on this trip is a mystery. I know, at the time, we thought we were so clever and sneaky.
We must have pooled our allowance to get money to buy a few treats…maybe chips and cookies …I don’t remember anything other than the watermelon. And it was a half watermelon. Cut and wrapped in saran wrap. That’s a hard thing to sneak into a car, but we were determined.
When we got home from our grocery shopping excursion, we needed to hide the goods until the next morning when we were to leave for the cabin. So…we hid the snacks, including the half watermelon, in the bushes in Donna and Diane’s backyard. It made sense at the time…
Until the next morning when we took our pillows along to retrieve our treats and hide them in our pillow cases. What we discovered was a half watermelon, full, blackened even, with ANTS!
And we were so surprised!!! Little did we know the ants would show up. We learned a lesson that day…do not leave watermelon outside overnight under a bush – or anywhere!!! It’s a fun childhood memory.
This photo was taken in 1969…me, Diane, Donna and my brother (L to R).
Unfortunately, all of our respective parents have died, so we cannot get their take on this story.
While in Florida, we checked out a Sugar Sand Festival exhibit, “Sandimals,” while on Clearwater Beach.
These incredible sculptures were made from the beach’s white sand. It was held in a huge tent, shaded from the sun, and cool inside.
A for Aardvark.
Mr. Beaver.
An eagle.
We meandered through the one-way path observing this amazing and unique artwork. The sculptures were arranged according to the alphabet…like many children’s books: A for aardvark, B for bear, C for cat, etc…and the displays were all different animal types.
These two reminded me of Frog and Toad – beloved children’s book characters.
It was fascinating.
My favorite: the leopard…his spots were holes in the sand.
A wise old owl.
A fun creature: the platypus.
There was one artist working silently on a dog sculpture, putting on the last touches. It would be fun to watch the whole process…starting from the top down. I’m sure it takes a long time. It definitely takes talent.
One artist working on a dog sculpture.
The peacock was extraordinary.
R for rabbit and rhinoceros’.
It’s hard to remember these are all sculpted using fine sand.
S for sloth.
U for unicorn.
Y for Yeti.
It was really fun to walk through this display of sand animals…an unusual “walk on the beach” experience.
We were in Florida last week, on the gulf side, close to Clearwater Beach. It was beautiful. Sunny… every day, temperatures in the 80’s…every day.
Sunset over Clearwater Beach.
We spent time near the water, and submerged ourselves in the water once. It felt wonderful. We walked along beaches and enjoyed the fine, white, sugar sand, and seeing the awesome shades of turquoise water, beautiful blue skies, shore birds, sea shells, sail boats. We “soaked” it all in…sun, waves, sea air, warm temps.
We didn’t know the name of these interesting shorebirds.
Usually when I am on the water’s edge I look for sea shells…(or rocks if I’m on Lake Superior’s rocky shore). I can’t help myself. As I walked along looking for shells I thought about a poem I wrote several years ago. I looked it up after we returned home and am sharing it below.
Shells found along the sea in Florida.
Along the Sea (2010)
Here I go again...
Walking along the beach,
Tides go out, tides come in,
I’m open to what it’ll teach.
Water rolling over the toes,
Sun sparkling across the sea,
The gentle sound of waves,
All soothes the core of me.
I walk along and sing psalms
As the pulsing waves repeat,
I feel a sense of calm
As my eyes draw to my feet.
I reach down for a token
From the bounty of the sea.
And check to see if it’s broken,
If so, I toss it back quickly.
I can’t resist, so I pick up more
Searching for one without mars,
Noting what likeness to people they bore,
Broken, wounded, with scars.
So, I start being less selective
And find new beauty in these...
My mind gently corrected
As I choose shells along the sea.
May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit. Romans 15:13
