Llife and death in the spring

Wild violets

Bloodroots

   Henry David Thoreau had the whole Zen Master thing down cold.
    In his two years at Walden Pond he reveled in the idea of “mindfulness” -- slowing down to absorb nature. He often went to a spot as the sun rose, sat down and barely moved until it got dark , absorbing what nature presented.
    I have trouble sitting still for long, but taking pause in our valley in the spring to look at the rebirth and new life has its rewards.
    With our unusual spring, the wildflowers are making their appearance early. But if you don’t stop and look, you’ll miss most of them. The tiny bloodroots and wild violets are making their showy displays -- as pretty as any flowers we spend money on and toil over in our gardens. 
    But death is prevalent in the spring as well. Baby birds and animals succumbing to the hazards, early buds frozen to death and mighty and healthy trees felled by ravenous beaver emerging from their  winter semi-hibernation. The freshly gnawed, downed trees litter the river banks in the area.
    A beaver can supposedly take down up to 200 trees a year. From what I've seen of their work, it sounds about right. I have a history with beaver; a long war carried on at our cabin north of Brainerd.  I surrendered long ago.
    Trying to trap, shoot and harass beaver seems only to amuse them. There are reportedly more beaver in the U.S. today than there were before settlement. They have a tenacity and work ethic we can’t match.
    Best to just sit down along the river bank and admire their handiwork .

The beaver have been busy at Minneopa State Park.

Feeding the eaglets

 

   The Rev. Robert and Holly Mehltretter ventured out to the bald eagle nest on the Minnesota River along Seven Mile Creek Park (see earlier post for directions) to find the parents busy feeding newly hatched eaglets.
  How many young there are in the nest won't be known for about a month when the eaglets began walking and venturing out to the edge of the nest.   
  It takes a couple of days for an eaglet to break their way out of the egg, and once they do they're hungry.
The parents spend most of their time finding food for the babies, carrying a fish, duck or other animal to the nest, then shredding it to pieces and offering morsels to the eaglets.
  Holly’s photo shows one eagle, fish in claws, headed to the nest and the parents then get busy pulling it apart and offering pieces to the young. 
  The eagles ball their talons into a fist when they walk around the nest to avoid killing the young.
  The babies will grow fast, packing on a pound or more every week, but they won't be ready for their first, dangerous, flight until early or mid June.

Easter on the river

Trying for some catfish on the Minnesota River on Easter

It may not be an Easter tradition, but spending time at the river isn't a bad one to start.
   Sunday afternoon -- with the sun taking the bite out of a steady wind, and an unusually low flow offering up broad sand bars -- was a perfect day to draw a steady stream  of people to the Minnesota River at Seven Mile Creek Park.
   There were the young couples walking hand-in-hand down the river's edge, a dad bringing his daughters and a tub of smelly chicken liver to try for some catfish, grandparents with young boys wallowing in the mud and rolling down hills of sand into the low-flowing Seven Mile Creek as it empties into the Minnesota.
  With nesting waterfowl, the first blooming of wildflowers  and the perpetual flow of water sweeping around the bend, the river is as rich and natural symbol of rebirth and life as any other.
   Some grilled burgers and hot dogs dusted with a bit of wind-swept sand, a camp fire on the shore as the sun fades, and the comfortable banter of children and grandchildren leaves memories that a formal ham dinner wouldn't.

Granite raiders of the Minnesota River

Granite outcropping on the Minnesota River near Redwood Falls

   There is beauty all along the 335-miles of the Minnesota River, but nothing compares to the stretch from Ortonville -- at the start of the river on the South Dakota border -- down through Granite Falls and Redwood Falls.
   Exposed ancient Granite outcroppings along the river bluffs are stunning and unique, with specialized plant and animal life rarely found elsewhere in Minnesota.
   That's why groups like BWSR, USDA, DNR and some counties have spent years on programs to help pay landowners to protect the outcroppings.
   So local residents in western Minnesota are none to happy a mining company
wants to spend the next century blowing up the granite, breaking it into
crushed rock and shipping out one of the areas most valuable assets. The
Ortonville Township Board passed a moratorium aimed at protecting the
outcroppings.
   North Dakota-based Strata Corp. has been fighting to get permits to mine the
granite, and in the face of stiff local opposition hired legal powerhouse
Malkerson Gunn Martin to represent them. Big Stone County commissioners are
weighing the company's request.
   Patrick Moore, head or CURE -- Clean Up the River Environment --
(cureriver.org), said the company is taking a no-prisoners approach to
getting their way. Corporate officials flew in on the private jet recently
and ferried county commissioners to the proposed site.
   But to keep any annoying media or citizens from tagging along, the company
took out just two commissioners at a time. That's because the state's Open
Meeting law only kicks in when three or more elected officials are together
on business.
   The company wrapped up the day lunching with the chair of the county board.
If you go on Strata's web site (strata-corp.com) you see the normal tabs:
"about," "history" and "services" which give the basics about the mining
company.
   If you click on the tab labeled "Environment" it takes you to a blank page.
   Not a good sign.