Here we are in Minneapolis on the last day of November with temperatures in the 40’s, sunny skies, and just a slight breeze. Looking at the weather forecast for the week I am giving thanks for a series of

Bonus Days!

I don’t want to miss a day of this above average temperature weather so I’m getting out in nature for a bit each day. Saturday I took a walk at Big Willow Park in Minnetonka. Yesterday I took a long walk in the woods at French Regional Park. And today I took a short drive along the shore of Medicine Lake and stopped here and there to photograph the trumpeter swans on the lake.

What a gift these days are!

And how marvelously adaptive our human bodies are as well! At the beginning of November 40 degrees seemed so cold to me. Now anything above freezing feels pretty mild.

Though many are anxiously awaiting snow and ice season I savor every day I can of this liminal space between seasons. And on these days when light slips into darkness ever so swiftly, I revel in soaking up the sun while it is shining brightly overhead.

IN PASSING 

How swiftly the strained honey

of afternoon light

flows into darkness

and the closed bud shrugs off

its special mystery

in order to break into blossom:

as if what exists,

exists so that it can be lost

and become precious.

   —  Lisel Mueller

Often this time of year the ground is snow-covered and the temperature is colder. So when late fall lingers with bright sunny mild days I don’t take those days for granted. As often as I can I head outside to enjoy nature’s bounty.

Discoveries along the way

I was surprised at the number of people out on the trails Monday at French Regional Park. It seems I wasn’t the only one savoring the wonderful weather.

As I walked the trail I met two park naturalists with binoculars in hand. They told me that there were lots of trumpeter swans on the ice just out from the shore of Medicine Lake. I had seen a big flock of trumpeters in the air looking like they’d just taken off from Medicine Lake as I turned into the park and I wondered if those were the swans the naturalists had seen on the lake. But I hiked down to the lake anyway. And I was right, the swans had left just as I arrived at the park.

On my walk at Big Willow Park on Saturday I had a close encounter with a hawk. It sat on a broken branch at eye level about 20 feet from where I stood. I was so absorbed in watching it that I didn’t even try to photograph it. Our eyes met and then slowly and magnificently the hawk shifted its wings and lifted into flight. What a wondrous site.

Sadly I also saw  the head of a dead rabbit and a tuft of its fur at the side of the path. It was a stark reminder that life feeds life. Though it saddened me to see it, I was grateful for the reminder of how I too am a part of nature, not separate and above it all, but just as much of the cycle of life. I said a little prayer of blessing for the rabbit as I contemplated how seldom I see the starker side of all of the wildlife I so love.

Today, I headed down to East Medicine Lake Park where I can often see migrating trumpeter swans this time of year. Sure enough, there were several of them quite a ways from the shore.

And there were also many many ducks and geese all along the shore of the lake. Occasionally I pulled over on the narrow one-way street and shot photos out my car window. But mostly I simply soaked in the beauty of all of these wonderful creatures bobbing and feeding in the lake.

I feel so blessed to live in this state with all of the lakes, woods, and wild places, even in the middle of the city.

Liminal

The space between

Neither this

   nor that

Ripe, potent

   uncertain, shaky

A Dawning, a Dusking…

The immanent threshold

   emerging

crossing…to what?

   Slow down

The moment is calling you

to pay…exquisite…attention…

   — unknown author

I hope that you take the opportunity to bask in this wonderful liminal space and these bonus days between fall and winter.

May you walk in beauty.

Couldn’t resist showing you the Canada Geese photo bombing me as I aimed my camera at the swans