Our pheasant hunting season ended on the last day of December. My hunting dog immediately filed for unemployment. He will enjoy leisurely days lying in the sun on his rug. Despite the end of the hunting season, the pheasants will face their most dangerous time of the year, trying to survive the snow, cold, and predators of a vicious Minnesota winter.
Once again thy gathered together, just as in generations past.
The salt of the earth, the pillars of our little community came to be led by the children. Once again the children told the greatest story ever told. They led us all to a lowly stable an there proclaimed the birth that changed the world. Echoing the songs of angels, they sang, and we could not distinguish them from the voices from on high, heard by shepherds long ago.
Summer Is Indeed The Colorful Season.
From the Gulf Panhandle of Florida to New Orleans, to the Missouri Arboretum in St. Louis, the color never stops.
Of course Minnesota tops off the Flyover colors with the frequent, incredible sunsets, the fish we catch, and the crops now maturing in the sun. The colorful and uplifting narrative of “God in a God-Forsaken Land” reminds us that the 1870s in western Minnesota were also brightly painted and exciting.
I have been planting food plots for pheasants and other wildlife.
Locating these plots near areas of good wildlife habitat will put food close to protective cover. Meanwhile the pollinator plants are thriving in these areas as well; bees and butterflies are evident.
Although the Canadian thistle is not a welcome addition to most farms, the gold finches seem to like them as they begin to nest. They eat the thistle seeds and use the down in their nests. Sometimes farming is truly for the birds! And bees. A good summer read is “God in a God-Forsaken Land.” Find out a bit more of what this land was like in the 1870s.
Summer gives us a time to re-boot.
Recent summer rains necessitated a re-boot to launch a boat at a local lake. Living bouquets abound as native flowers co-mingle in beautiful, natural arrangements in their chosen habitats. We change our thinking that all flower displays need to be picked and arranged. The full moon brings abundant spawning sunfish to the table; a delicacy I once thought was only available in springtime.
We writers find the long evenings much too nice to confine ourselves to a computer careen. A good old fashioned notebook and pencil, out on the deck or even on the water seems a better choice now.
It is now officially summer.
The beautiful and unassuming faces of summer surround us. Wild flowers bloom in quiet succession. Our canine friends wonder why they are so suddenly hot and lackadaisical.
I also ponder Pastor Herwig’s first summer in Minnesota in 1874. The beauty and wonder of a new land opened before him as he touched the souls of rugged pioneers. “God in a God-Forsaken Land,” takes the reader to the very roots of Flyover Country.