Fall Comes to the Northland

Yesterday, Steve Piragis and I took a walk along a portage near Ely.  After a day and night of rain, our leaves that had really just begun to deepen in color were falling all around us.  Autumn here in the Northwoods is fickle and comes on fast.  It has no patience for those of us who love it so much and no desire to every hang around as much as we'd like it to.

So, when you have some time, or not, (it is always best to make time) It pays to get outside and relish the oranges, yellows, browns, magentas, reds against the backdrop of green conifers and blue sky.  The yellow in this kevlar Wenonah Spirit II made a cool focal point.

I'm really just along for the ride, but the Piragis Pants and Chota Breathable Waterproof Socks aren't.  They are the real deal and when paired with Chota Caney Fork Portage Boots or Quetico Trekkers, they make perfect sense for your feet during cool water times such right now.  With 5 nights complete with frost already, the waters are fresh with anticipation of being hard in a month and a half if not sooner.  The fish instinctively know this and they are hungry.  The bite is on!

If the beautiful colors aren't enough to entice you into a trip to Ely and the Boundary Waters this Autumn, that should.  Nothing like a fresh fish dinner over the campfire.

Oh, and just because Minnesota is full of surprises, on Sunday, it is supposed to be 76 degrees here in Ely.  Sunshine will never feel so great.

p.s. The next two weekends represent the end of our Outlet Store Season for 2015.  That means less than eight days left for you to save 75% on excellent clothing items in our Outlet Store.  Sale ends when MEA Weekend is over.

The walk in the woods yesterday inspired this poem.

North Country Fall

Leaves are falling,

circling round in their descent

like distant friends might

one day plot a pilgrimage

towards freedom.

Bigtooth Aspens, White Swamp Oaks,

Showy Mountain Ash

Popples and Paper Birches,

Silver Maple; Black Ash,

Pin Cherry, Quaking Aspens

and underneath, Ironwood, Honeysuckle and Anise Hyssop.

Eastern Cottonwoods, Box Elders.

Sugar Maples and a

solitary

Shagbark Hickory, the ugly duckling

amongst a temeritous stand

of Bur Oak.

While the tamarack turn

their backs on their green

coniferous neighbors.

Leafy fingers,

Golden with rust, reach

for the clouds as if 

to pull down the 

snow around their

knobby knees,

before falling selfishly.

Alone, leafless, among all the other

conifers of the North.

Strong smells of woodsmoke

are in the air

and under the raven’s

wing.  Apples burgeon

with Summer’s amorous liquor, heavy

on brown branches that

once blossomed

at the mercy of the same 

visiting winds signaling

the separation of Spring.

Lying on the forest floor

I think of you and how far

and fast I’ve fallen.

In the face of your

fortunate

landing.

@Timothy James Stouffer, 10/09/2015

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