I don’t remember much from chemistry class. I wish I did. How does moving water turn into ice? How does it create such amazing structures? Those are the questions that arise when you visit O Kun De Kun Falls in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula at the end of March. More photos and thoughts below…
Flowing water travels alongside frozen water. How I wish the “two camps” of our divided nation could survive side-by-side this way until a thaw brings us together again. You may wonder why current events come to mind at such a time. They’re never far from my mind. It comes from spending 30 years in public and military service, and realizing that these are truly disruptive and historic times.
Standing nearly under the waterfall’s edge, one marvels at nature’s power.
How does water freeze in mid-fall? Or so it seems to do. If we could only freeze-frame the film of our divided nation, roll back a few decades, and start over where we used to listen to each other.
This reddish hue is caused by iron oxide, I believe. A dramatic example of this is Blood Falls in Antarctica. I will post about my time in Antarctica soon.
See how the water slowly dripping onto this skinny branch turned into a hardened mass over time? The same thing has happened to our nation. A slow drip of distrust hardened into a revolution. Small things can harden into big things if they aren’t acknowledged and addressed.
Two waterfalls make up O Kun de Kun. This is the smaller upper falls, which were more visually intriguing to me than the lower falls. These days, our national leaders are into “bigger and glitzier.” I’m out of step with the trend, I guess. Smaller and quieter is (usually) more my speed.
Another shot of the upper falls…
….and hiking buddies across the river from me on the lower falls. How did we cross the river?
By this suspension bridge. I wobbled across on my snowshoes, on top of that snow ridge in the middle. (Just for fun. I enjoy balancing challenges.) Others walked in regular boots along the side.
Snowshoes were useful on the ice, too, due to their sharp teeth. They aren’t only for deep snow.
The sign at the trailhead. The U.P. is blessed with so many trails, lakes and waterfalls, I’ll never see them all. When I noticed the Ontonagon River on the sign, I remembered how close I was to my dad’s birthplace. He swam in that river as a boy. So, after the hike, I drove ten miles…
…to the abandoned farmhouse where my Dad was born and raised and where I (and siblings plus many cousins) made many visits. My grandmother gave birth to 12 children in this house…plus nine children in previous houses! (She birthed 21 children and 18 lived to adulthood.) That generation is gone, and this house and surrounding property belongs to the State of Michigan. It’s decrepit now, but in its day hosted many innovations — one of the first in the area to get electricity, and a car. My aunts (and some uncles) were voracious readers and this house still guards a trove of old books, including “How to Speak English Effectively” (1933) and “Revitalizing a Nation” (1952).
I also visited by grandparents’ grave a few miles from the farmhouse. Both emigrated from Finland to the U.S. as teenagers in the 1890s, ending up here in an area so much like Finland with its forest and lakes. Thinking about the changes they lived through — including the Depression, the Progressive Era, and World War II — gives me courage to face the changes of my own time.
Back home at Camp Many Moons, turkeys have joined my wildlife menagerie. Deer and turkeys live peaceably side-by-side. (Some species get along better than some political parties these days!)
My “favorite” has begun to explore the spillover from the bird feeder. I’ve discovered “she” is a “he,” as the buds (bumps on the skull that will turn into antlers) have emerged. This means he’ll be targeted by hunters before long. Enjoy life while you can, little one! Extra treats for you!
The turkeys forage under the bird feeder also. I like having them around as long as the flock doesn’t grow. It’s enough to keep up with deer poop–I don’t want to tackle turkey poop, too.
Indoors, I’ve continue the project mentioned in the last post–refurbishing the old woodstove. The glass is clean and the gasket is new, so polishing was next…a messy business requiring gloves.
To answer a question in the last post, here’s what I do with dried coffee grounds….add a little acid to the soil around evergreens. Who knows if it helps, but it’s easy to try. And it gives me somewhere to put the grounds. I research which plants like wood ash and which like coffee grounds as the experiment continues. (This spruce still wears a bandage after being injured by a vehicle.)
Ending this post with a recent photo of my own hometown of Hancock, Mich. (Photo by Nancy Hahn.) The distance from here to my Dad’s birthplace is about 60 miles. We made the trip often as a family and the drive seemed long. Now, I regularly drive 1,000 miles from my home in Virginia to my 2nd home in Michigan. Perspective sure changes with time and experience!
For Many Moons 