Why tree stumps are good.

Shortly after we moved in, I started drilling a couple of holes in some old tree stumps in hopes to speed the rotting process, and thusly, the removal process. A neighbor commented on a chemical I could dump in the holes to further speed that process along. Now I wish I hadn't even drilled the holes. Look at this beautiful polypore that is taking up residence. Both stumps have them, and there are three other species growing on or between the stumps. What a great summer for fungi!

At least someone used it

Went out back to try to take a picture of the bugs swarming at the hummingbird feeder, but it was nearly impossible. I got stung twice by yellow jackets, and those stupid little Japanese beetles were biting me the entire time. Our hummingbird feeder was a flop this year. One early fall hanger-on came through for a couple of days, and that was it. Last year, after we moved in, we had dozens---rubies, emeralds, you name it we had it. This year, one little ruby and that was that. And, as to those Japanese beetles; I don't remember them when I was a kid. We had lady bugs, and they did not bite. Now you have to discriminate. Is it safe to let the little bugger crawl on you or not? I love lady bugs, but I hate them Japanese beetles.

Trickster

Once when I was a kid, and we had just got back from a trip to the Smoky Mountains, my dad showed slides from the trip. In among the March images was this crazy picture of a black bear sticking his snout out from behind some flowers. I was dumbfounded. "Where was I when you took that picture?" "Weren't you scared?" "Did you get any other pictures of the bear?" It was only years later that I realized the image was fake, one of those slides you buy in a gift store. It was the flowers that gave it away. We were there in March and there was nothing blossoming. This picture has that feel about it. Here we are, temperatures and leaves dropping, and here's this flower. It seems so out of place. Our dahlias, too, are gorgeous right now, but summer is done. They should be dead.

Green

Nice collection of greens from an area Scientific Natural Area.

Won't be long now

Gorgeous fall day today, but there was wind moving the early dead off of trees. Time for us northerners to stock up on furnace filters, ice melt, and Hershey bars (for roadside emergency kits (to be eaten when there are no sweets in the house (leaving an unsuspecting spouse to perish of starvation in a ditch during some sort of superstorm))). Our days are numbered, and the squirrels know it. They are working extra hard, building up stores of walnuts and fat.

The St. Croix

So, the Kinnickinnic flows to the St. Croix. This is the St. Croix right below where the Kinni flows into it. Ten miles below this, the St. Croix connects up with the mighty Mississippi. Lots of water recreation takes place on this stretch of water, and then, suddenly, to the north, it becomes a jagged nightmare of rocks and shallows. Just before that area, there are some really neat pontoon port-a-potties. No need to pee in the water or drag the boat ashore, just pull up, climb off, and away you go.

Another St. Croix River

This one, the Willow River flows into the St. Croix north of here near the town of Hudson. It is another gorgeous river with a state park on it. Unlike the Kinnickinnic, which has the Kinnickinnic State Park on it, you can camp at Willow River. The hike to the water fall is worth it, but for purity of experience, the trail on the north side of the river is the best.

Bonus Shot

What the heck. There's nothing wrong with two in one day. I like the waters flowing over some water vegetation here. Kinnickinnic northeast of town in the middle of a short stretch of knuckle-busting shallow water. My hands still hurt from this kayak trip.

Four Hours Away

I tend to bad mouth the upper Midwest. Not because it is a bad place, but rather because there are no bits of greatness to it, no Grand Canyon, no ocean, no jaw-dropping beauty. I like to use the "Four Hour Rule" as my basis for griping. Take San Francisco. A four hour radius gets you to the Sierra Nevadas, Oregon, LA, Yosemite, etc. Four hours from us, gets you to the Wisconsin Dells and South Dakota. Whooooo-hoooo! The Boundary Waters sits right at the upper limit of the "Four Hour Rule," and while it is not the most incredible thing you will ever see, it has to be near the most peaceful. You will never get quiet like you get in the BWCA. When I took this picture, my daughter and I were alone at the edge of the lake. A slight ruffle alerted us to a deer, about two hundred yards away, standing in the water. It was so quiet we could hear the deer from two football fields away simply standing in the water. Incredible!

Crystal Cave

Just down the road in Spring Valley is the largest show cave in Wisconsin. What you see here is pretty much what you get. Great soda straws and a neat history, but not a lot of huge color, crystallization, or variety of minerals. There are some fossils, and the terrain outside the cave is truly beautiful. Worth a visit if you end up in the area.

Looking down the Kinni

The Kinnickinnic as it flows south from town to the St. Croix.

Nearing the End

Last week, temperatures in the nineties. This week, butting up against freezing. To those who have never lived in a climate like this, it is hard to understand. We don't get the ridiculously dramatic, like hurricanes or Sierra Nevada snowfalls, but we get big winds in the form of tornadoes and we get temperatures that go from -40 to 100 degrees. We have about two months now where we won't need air and (hopefully) we won't need the furnace either. It is the nicest time of year. Bugs are dead or dying, and we get to see the colors change. It's always fun to watch the squirrels hard at work, too.

South Fork at Glen Park

A series of small falls as the South Fork enters the main body of the Kinnickinnic at Glen Park.

Maple, Sycamore, or ?

Gotta get out my tree books here. My daughter grabbed this leaf and immediately identified it as maple. I don't necessarily disagree, but it has an odd feel to it. It has a maple's red, but the look is black maple or something else entirely.

Disappearing

The Big River is another small river flowing to the Mississippi. It's origins lie in a series of pothole pasture lakes south of town, and it meanders for fifteen miles or so before it goes under the Highway 35 bridge. This antique bridge sits just north of that. It is one of those old bridges that should be forced to stay forever, but will probably be gone within a decade. Don't tell anybody, but the Big River is top-of-the-line fossil hunting grounds. Just let it be our secret.

Happy, but I still want a new camera.

I am not happy with my digital camera. Yes, it is convenient, and yes, I am happy to not be lugging my old EOS around; but, and it's a big but, I am never happy with the color that my Canon digital captures. Part of the problem is the convenience. I don't concentrate, and I don't spend the time on the shots that I used to. Trade-offs! It is so nice to have the camera close at hand to snap shots of things I never would have normally got, but the color sucks. Here's a shot of a Hemlock Varnish Shelf, Ganoderma tsugae (I believe), where the camera did a mind-numbingly good job. This was exactly the way it looked, and of the shots I took of fungi, this one perfectly captures the way the thing felt, too, leathery and soft, yet, very there-for-the-long-haul.

Upriver from Town

It is impossible to get a good picture on the Kinni, especially with an eight-year-old navigator running the other paddle. When the good shots arise, the water is flowing too quickly; when the water is deep and calm, there's nothing but green. Don't get me wrong, green is nice. It is probably the color we midwesterners take for granted, because we got a ton of it. Crops are green, trees are green, and most of our planted plants are mostly green. It's the other colors we have a shortage of. Some gorgeous reds and oranges along the river today, but they were to be found exclusively by rapids. I do have some pictures, but they suck.

Masks

Sunflowers are not actually flowers, but rather a collection of thousands of little flowers emanating from a common center. They truly are phototropic, with heads following the sun over the course of the day. Heads are bagged to prevent pollination, often times to test the effects of disease or insects. 90% of sunflowers grown are used for oil, the remaining 10% are confectionary (to be eaten).

Nearing Harvest Time

South Fork

Walking the South Fork from the University of Wisconsin-River Falls (hereafter: UWRF) campus to the Kinnickinnic is a perfect afternoon trip. Expect to climb over tree falls and expect bugs (but, really, not too bad). More importantly, expect little contact with humanity and lots of animal tracks. You probably won't see much for animals, save a few birds, but know that the depths next to you probably contain lots of little eyes watching you travel noisily by.