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Archaeologists are not unlike truckers. Exploring Minnesota and Wisconsin's oddities, scenery, culture, back roads, and eateries helps keep me sane.

14 October 2010

To the Heartbeat of a Larch or the Larch in my Heartbeat


Larches lining Webb Lake, Wisconsin

















The larch or tamarack is a stunning tree in autumn.  I didn't know this tree existed among other conifers until I was bombarded by a sea of gold last fall.  But then, I grew up in southern Wisconsin.  This tree is extremely cold tolerant, found on the edges of tundras, in mountains, near the arctic, and - to my delight - in far northern Wisconsin.  It's a deciduous coniferous tree, and I didn't know those could exist either.   

 I learned something new and now it's one of my favorites.


Sumac is also beautiful in autumn...



30 degrees and an October sunrise over Webb Lake


13 October 2010

Running from the Wolves

I mistakenly thought I would get an at-home office week to prep for my "big" excavations of the season that have, for various reasons out of my control, been delayed week after week after week, and, hey, isn't it almost winter?  But instead, I find myself on another excursion to the Northwoods.  The north keeps calling me back, but what is it trying to tell me?  I start to think I'm getting things under control, dealing with life and all its unexpected changes, and then I'm required to make another 5 or 6 hour solo drive, alone with my thoughts and Martha Stewart Living Radio.  Is my boss aware of what a mindfuck these drives are?  How do truckers do it?  At least I have the fall scenery, but how many times can you drive one stretch of road and continue to call it scenic?  I'm a social creature, give me my crew back and let me excavate!!

All this forced time of being alone and reflecting, and I still have nothing figured out.  Maybe that's why it keeps happening over and over this field season.  I'm seeing the signs, but I don't know what they mean.  At a particularly low point of anger and frustration during my drive, a bald eagle flew low and crossed my path.  It doesn't matter how many times I see them, they floor me every time.  And just in case I didn't get the message the first time, a second one crossed my path, right after the first.  I've never seen two flying together like that before.  This site says that eagles symbolize power, healing, and wisdom, and also:

  • Eagle represents a state of grace that is reached through inner work, understanding and passing the initiation tests that result from reclaiming our personal power. Eagle Medicine is the Power of the Great Spirit. It is the spirit of tenacity. It is the gift of clear vision with which one can truly see the things one sees. It is the patience to wait for the appropriate moment. It is to live in balance with heaven and Earth. Eagle reminds you of your connection with the Great Spirit. It tells you that the universe is giving you the opportunity to fly above your life's worldly levels, or above the shadow of past realities. Eagle teaches you to look above in order to touch Grandfather Sun with your heart, to love the Shadow as much as the Light. Eagle asks you to grant yourself permission to be free in order to reach the joy that your heart desires. 
I like that.  It seems fitting.  "Grant yourself permission to be free in order to reach the joy that your heart desires."  And now to reclaim my personal power...

Coincidentally, I've started running again.  Maybe another coincidence, I'm back at Heartwood, where I ran the trails all last autumn.  There is something completely liberating about running outside... so liberating that treadmills now make me claustrophobic.  I could have easily cozied up in my room all night, but couldn't pass up an opportunity to run these familiar trails.  I headed out just before sunset, even though I know there are wolves and bears on the property.  I don't mind that.  Knowing there are wolves makes me run faster.




Wolves - Josh Ritter

I still remember that time when we were dancing We were dancing to a song that I’d heard Your face was simple and your hands were naked I was singing without knowing the words But I started listening to the wolves in the timber Wolves in the timber at night I heard their songs when I looked in the mirror In the howls and the moons round my eyes

So long, so high!

Then winter came and there was little left between us Skin and bones of love won’t make a meal I felt my eyes drifting over your shoulder There were wolves at the edge of the field But I still remember that time when we were dancing We were dancing to a song that I’d heard Your face was simple and your hands were naked I was singing without knowing the words

So long, so high!

Then one day I just woke up And the wolves were all there Wolves in the piano Wolves underneath the stairs Wolves inside the hinges Circling round my door At night inside the bedsprings Clicking cross the floor I don’t know how they found me I’ll never know quite how I still can’t believe they heard me That I was howling out that loud

So long, so high!

At times in the frozen nights I go roaming In the bed she used to share with me I wake in the fields with the cold and the lonesome The moon’s the only face that I see But I still remember that time when we were dancing We were dancing to a song that I’d heard Your face was simple and your hands were naked I was singing without knowing the words

So long, so high!