Human Detritus

I have a defined walk route through part of southern McFarland.  Fall, rain and wind produce a detritus as leaves, leaf stalks, twigs, small branches, nuts and the like layer the ground.  In urban/suburban areas this is most noticed in yards and park, and gutter pans of streets.  Yet, beyond the debris of nature there is the human detritus that is useful in the human story, and of use to anthropologists, sociologists and human geographers.  We can learn a great deal about a culture from the human induced detritus that is evident in our landscape.  This blog post will focus on three situations of human induced detritus that are or have been present in the past month on my walk route.

Nov 26 Street Sweeping

First, a new telecom provider is installing conduit for the installation of future fiber optic lines.  The contractors, tend to do a good job cleaning up, although, I did notice them simply flushing sediment to the storm sewer at the end of my street one day.  Installation of conduit requires location of existing utility lines.  That means little yellow, red, blue paint lines and flags pop up in varied yards, streets, and street terraces.  Overtime they get pulled out, and some find their way to the street or on the sidewalk, yet some still remain in place.  Other levels of debris, but more so from the construction workers for the high school project that park on Exchange Street, are cigarette butts.  For some reason smokers seem to prefer throwing their cigarette butt on the ground.  Cigarette butts, I noticed are most visible at signalized intersections.  It is like the just throw the butt out the window when they have completed the draws on the cancer sticks.

Utility locate flag.  Note that the painted lines are  no longer present

Second, it used to be common for dogs to fetch sticks in play, but other dog facilities are now more common.  I don't know if dogs have become much more common or if local units of government are better attending to the needs of dogs.  Locally over the past few years the village in which I live  has responded to dog owners by providing both a dog park, and dog waste stations.  There are two such waste stations on or my walk rout:, one in Lewis Park and the other along Creamery Road not far from where I live.  Dog waste stations are a good thing, and I think most dog walkers are respectful and pick up the waste from their dog.  Like many things in life there are some outliers.  I recall in the past seeing dog walkers with a poop bag in hand dropping it off in park dumpsters, or even in the trash cans of other people.  There are some that simply lay the bag on the curb or sidewalk edge.  I am not sure if they intend to pick it up on the way back, or they simply do not wish to carry the waste.  When I dog sit and take our son's dog, Hudson, for a walk I make sure to pick up his #2.  Last time I took Hudson for a walk I fortunate that he did his number 2 before the first waste station, although I had to walk several blocks to reach the waste station, at least I did not have to carry it the two miles home from that pick up point.  While at the waste station, and even though there was a second bag on the leash, I picked up another bag, to replace the one I used.  My mantra for dog poop bags is "keep 2 handy for #2."  The most disturbing is when the few decided not to pick up their pets  doggie doo.  Maybe they would like to but don't have a bag;  perhaps they don't have the back up system which my dog waste mantra deems appropriate.   Over the past couple weeks there have been two piles of unpicked up dog waste that I see on my walk route.  One unlucky soul stepped in one pile and it is squished and spread out through a short distance.  Keep head down not so much for trip hazards, but for unexpected waste.

Dog fence flag

Finally, is the debris that we humans leave behind, and no better event produces more, in my mind, than Halloween.  The idea for this post actually came from a walk on Nov 1.  In certain locations, candy wrappers were littered along the sidewalk or lay in the curb and gutter. Broken pumpkins lay splattered over yards and door steps from rot or human activity.  Apparently, Halloween produced its fair due of tricks.  This walk made me think of Mike Rowe's "Dirty Jobs" show where in one episode he helped remove gum from the sidewalks in NYC.  In suburbia it seems candy wrappers are more prevalent than gum on the sidewalks; fortunate for a walker such as myself.  As we are now about four weeks past Halloween little of the detritus from trick-or-treating remains easily visible.  Probably either picked up by others, by the street sweeper, or perhaps, and more likely, simply washed down the storm sewers to end up in the streams and lakes.

Cigarette butt in gutter, with sediment from high school project

One item, I noticed was a plastic pumpkin, that was likely used as a child's bag for the treats. On Nov 1 it lay on the sidewalk,and every day it seemed to blow further and further east into someone's yard. I have not now seen it for a few weeks, so I wonder if a homeowner finally picked it up, or it is stuck along a fence line in a backyard.  Knowing the immediate area I tend to think the latter is the case more than the former.  As the cold of winter has set in, the few children that walk to school will occasionally lose a hat, glove or mitten.  As I come across a lost piece of clothing I pick it up and set it on the nearest fire hydrant hopeful that  be reclaimed.  Over the years I have been doing this, I would say most are not reclaimed.

Dog Waste Station on Creamery Road

Human induced detritus can be a lens into our cultural practices.  It is well now past Halloween, but some still have pumpkins on their step which have degraded and now area a frozen pile of mush.  What we learn from this human induced detritus is seldom positive. In fact, most detritus is improperly disposed of waste, most due to simple carelessness.  Today I saw a Toyota hub cap placed along the edge of the sidewalk as if it was found by someone and set to the side for the owner to look for it, or to wait for someone else to pick it up.  The suburban landscape represents a large part of the American culture, and perhaps at some point in time the detritus of suburbia will be featured in an anthropologist's dissertation.

Dog Waste Station in Lewis Park

The Book Club

I think it was last August when my wife suggested that I should read more fiction.  Shortly thereafter, I noticed an item in our church bulletin that the church book club would be reading The Forgotten Garden as their September selection. After seeing this, we decided to join the book club; this gave us about two weeks to read the book.  When I retired I decided that I needed to be more adventurous.  This is different than road trip adventures, but may be no less interesting. 

November Selection

Book clubs tend to be composed mainly of females, and sure enough when we arrived I was the only male in the room, joining about nine females. Since then I have wondered if there is more estrogen in a fabric shop or a book club.  After being in a fabric shop with my wife twice in the past month or so, I came to the conclusion that it would be the latter. A book club is a female version of a football huddle.  Later in evening of our first book club meeting my wife suggested that perhaps I would be more comfortable starting a book club that would be oriented to men.  I stated that I am sufficiently comfortable being around a group of women. Is she embarrassed by my attendance?  I think her suggestion was mostly around the fact that the books are likely to be female oriented tales, and she saw these as being out of my genre comfort zone.  But, that is part of the adventure.  Some of the books, I suppose, could well be a reading version of a chick-flick.  I also think I can bring a different perspective to the discussion.  Let me just say that the demographic of this book club is not very diverse.  But for perhaps one or two women in the group, my wife and I are probably the youngest members.  That means the vast majority are 62 years or older, and but for one soul (me), all female.  You can also tell it is a female oriented group in that for each meeting so far one member brings a bottle of red wine and another a bottle of white wine.  I think if it was a male oriented endeavor, the favored drink would be beer.  One other difference is notes.  Some of the attendees take notes, and one women, I think she is a retired school teacher, used color coded her notes to keep track of the characters and events.  That is really getting into the book.

October Read

We have attended two book club meetings so far, one each in September and October.  A few weeks ago I completed reading the selection for the month of November, on which we will meet next week.  In addition to The Forgotten Garden, we read and discussed The Widower's Tale for October, and this month the selection is State of Wonder.  Last month the Adult Librarian for the local library attended and provided an over view of many books, which the group reviewed and voted on for next year's reading list.  I think of the dozen or so books selected, one was non-fiction.  My wife has already read that non-fiction book (she also previously read the current month book), but liked it so much she voted for that selection.

My First Book Club Read (September)

Given that so many of the attendees are retired, my wife and I found it interesting that one of the main complaints was book length.  The September book was about 550 pages, which many found too daunting in length.  Beyond length, some disliked the writing style, and others just could not get into the story line.  Book length was a consideration of some who voted on the reading list for next year.  The October book, The Widower's Tale, was about 400 pages.  They were more pleased with this months read, as it is a lighter 353 pages.  I doubt they would make it through some of my nonfiction books.  For example, last year I read Peter Brown's seminal work on early Christianity entitled Through the Eye of a Needle, which is about 800 pages in print, although I read it on a Kindle and, if I recall, about 30% is footnotes and bibliography.  Earlier this year I read Ron Chernow's biography of US Grant, simply entitled Grant, on Kindle, but which runs just shy of 1,100 pages in print, and it too is probably about 30% footnotes and bibliography.  I have read a great deal about US Grant including his own Personal Memoirs (also completed this year).  Like Chernow, I think Grant did much more as President than for what he is given credit.

I will agree with my spouse that my interests in reading tend to be nonfiction.  Looking at my library check out history, my Kindle, and books at home, I suspect so for this year I have read about 15 non-fiction books and 9 fiction books (which includes the three book club selections).  After reading a hefty work, such as Chernow's or Brown's I tend to move to a less heavy, and shorter, fiction book.  Two of my books this year were about the Teresa Halbach murder trial--particularly about Steven Avery and tangentially his nephew Brandon Dassey.  Both were easy reads, and both books were written after the Netlflix series "Making a Murderer."  A fiction book I read, We Need to Talk about Kevin, was good, but rather disturbing.  A nonfiction book, by a Minnesota author, was a real quick read.
.

Church Bulletin Notice of Book Club
selection for November

As I move though a book club selection, I also have been reading a nonfiction book.Therefore, I don't mind a shorter book club selection.  My current nonfiction book,  purchased at the library book sale, is about Thomas Jefferson.  In my mind this book provides significant new light on the man and goes beyond his words to his actual actions.  His actions often countered to his words.  Perhaps there is a future blog post on that issue. I prioritize the book club selections since that has the meeting deadline.

Cover of Ron Chernow's Grant

I guess time will tell if how long I continue with the book club.  I noted to my wife that a former coworker told me that he would let me know when his book club, composed of men, meets, but I have yet to hear from him.  That is a different type of book club, no book is involved and they meet at a local tavern. This book club does, however, provide a nice way to interact with people whom I would not otherwise interact; and, hey, who am I to pass up a glass or two of wine during the discussion?  It is not beer, but it will do.  It is safe to say the book club has me reading books I would not otherwise read, thus part of the adventure. In the coming year, due to the book club, my reading may be reversed with fiction books outnumbering my nonfiction books.

Images from Google Images

Flash Mob

It has been a number of years now since a movement referred to as Flash Mob became popular.  These events involve artistic performances of orchestra and/or choral, or dance in an unexpected moment and public place, such as a municipal square, transit/train station, even a retail indoor mall.  The whole idea is to provide an artistic event in a location where people gather, and time no one would expect.  One of the more popular flash mobs occurred in Spain, which you can see here.  An orchestra played one of the most famous pieces of music ever composed.  Watching the over two decade old movie "Titanic" the other night, it occurred to me that perhaps the first unintended flash mob was on that ship, in the most dire of, say mob, circumstances. Scenes portrayed in the movie, and most likely during the actual sinking itself, is indicative of a mob scene as many people tried to get on what life boats remained.

Titanic

The movie portrays a small orchestra of four men playing as the ship sinks.  Instead of playing inside, they take a position on one of the exterior decks.  At one point, after  bidding farewell to each other, they start to depart, but the group leader who is now standing alone amid the chaos starts playing "Nearer my God to Thee" on his violin.  Hearing this, the other three come back and join him.  As one would expect with a sinking ship, there is mainly chaos, with mob rule being paramount as the crew is overwhelmed, too few life boats, and survivor instinct kicking in which leads to selfishness.  The musicians stand as perhaps one of two events that brought about some order to the otherwise chaotic events that occurred that night in mid-April in the dark of the North Atlantic.

The historical record seems to indicate that a small orchestra actually did play as the ship was sinking. What is in dispute is whether or not "Nearer my God to Thee" was the last song played, as portrayed in the movie.  And, if it was played, which of the three versions was played.  Cameron, like the much earlier 1958 movie on Titanic, used the British, Anglican, version.  The orchestra leader was a devout Methodist, and it is argued that if the hymn was played it would have been the Methodist version.  Most witnesses agree that they hymn was played, but what is in dispute is if it was the last tune played.  What the witnesses would not know is what the final hymn was.  Perhaps this, or another tune was played as the witnesses oared away from the ship.  One would have to say that the haunting melody of "Nearer my God to Thee" is a fitting song for the movie regardless of whether or not it was the last song played as the ship made its way under the dark mass of the waters of the Atlantic. 

Titanic Orchestra

While the passengers and crew of the Titanic hurried about with little knowledge of the actual situation to this "unsinkable" ship, I see one other facet of order to the otherwise chaotic mob scene on the doomed vessel.  In the movie scene, as the ship is going down a priest can be seen above a good number of passengers hanging on as the tilt is occurring and leading the group in prayer.  Several eyewitness accounts of those sufficiently lucky to board the last of the life boats, say this man was Fr. Thomas Byles who was and adult convert to Catholicism.  Fr. Byles stood atop a loop of rope or cargo box to be seen as he led the group which, according to eyewitness account, were members of varied faiths: Catholics, Protestants and Jews in prayer.  Fr. Byles had, on Sunday, April 14, the day the ship hit the iceberg, said mass for those in second and again for those in third class.  His body was never recovered.  Byles was on his way to the United States to officiate at the wedding of his brother, William.  The Sunday Anglican service, was held in First Class and led by the Captain.

Fr. Thomas Byles

Events such as Titanic reach into the human mind, due to the chaos and hubris it represents. Yet, in the midst of the mob, these two events show a civilizing effect for the many passengers who were doomed to die of exposure in the waters of the North Atlantic.  Flash Mobs are meant to encourage and lift the human spirit.  The first flash mob, and a praying Fr. Byles did that for some folks on the RMS Titanic, even though they knew their fate.

A Flower in the Brown Band (Re-post from November 2014)

A Flower in the Brown Band

In 1918 the Armistice between the Allies and Germany to end the Great War, now known as World War I, took effect at 11:00 am of the eleventh day of the eleventh month of the year 1918.  Like too many conflicts, the Great War began from a series of missteps, misunderstandings, missed communications, and missed opportunities to end it before it began.  Today has become larger than Armistice Day as it was first known.  In the United States it is now known as Veteran’s Day, to honor all those who have served their country. There is no greater symbol of the Great War than the poppy which was popularized in the poem “Flanders Fields” written by Canadian Doctor John McCrae. Why did the poppy become such a powerful symbol of such a terrible series of events and battles?  While the color of the poppy recalls the blood that was shed in this engagement, it seems to me the poppy is also a symbol of hope.  How could a flower in a sea of devastated landscape not provide some hope?  In the wet, dark trenches any sign of life was probably an event to which the men looked forward.  To understand is to see the contrast between devastation and the flower, between death and life, between war and peace.

Flanders Fields

Methods of war in 1918 were different than that seen with the blitzkrieg and speeds of World War II.  It mainly involved trench warfare, with sides making little headway but realizing great casualties.  Between battle lines there lay a vast waste zone; but for men and rats, little survived.  Any one reading the great work of this war, All Quiet on the Western Front, or having seen Hollywood movies of the war, a most recent being “War Horse”, the images can tell more than what this writer can describe.  Although to set an image of the landscape produced by a war 100 years ago, let me turn to the words of an American mercenary, James McConnell, who would fly for the French in 1916 and describe what he saw over the battlefield of Verdun:

Immediately east and north of Verdun there lies a broad, brown band ... Peaceful fields and farms and villages adorned that landscape a few months ago - when there was no Battle of Verdun. Now there is only that sinister brown belt, a strip of murdered Nature. It seems to belong to another world. Every sign of humanity has been swept away. The woods and roads have vanished like chalk wiped from a blackboard; of the villages nothing remains but gray smears where stone walls have tumbled together... On the brown band the indentations are so closely interlocked that they blend into a confused mass of troubled earth. Of the trenches only broken, half-obliterated links are visible.

Alexis Helmer

From August of 1914 until November 11, 1918, this described the battle fields of the Great War.  Accounts tell us that, in contrast to the cold of war, the weather in Belgian Flanders was unusually warm in 1915 when the poem was written.  Locals, still needing to make a living, would plant their fields early that spring, some up to near the lines of battle.  The red field poppy would grow at the edges of grain fields.  While the plant is an annual, it will reseed itself for the next year and bloom once again from seed in earth disturbed.  Ground disturbed on the field of battle would see poppy seeds germinate, grow and flower.  It was the view of these flowers in 1915 which would catch the attention of John McCrae.

Accounts vary on where McCrae wrote the poem that has come to represent a war  One has it being on the rear step of an ambulance, another after the burial of his comrade Alexis Helmer, and yet another account, by his commanding officer, had him writing it between arrivals of groups of injured soldiers.  We do know that he wrote it in early May 1915 near Ypres, by what is termed the Ypres Salient, a portion of the line that bulged into German lines leaving this section surrounded on three sides.  Helmer was killed on May 2, a Sunday morning, by a German mortar which tore his body apart.  He was buried later that night.  As the brigade chaplain was away attending to other duties, Helmer's graveside burial, at least of those body parts able to be collected, was conducted by John McCrae.  It is reported that he conducted a simple service using part of the Church of England’s “Order of Burial for the Dead.”  Helmer had a simple wooden cross to mark a now long lost grave in the Ypres Salient.  

Dr John McCrae

While a Canadian man may have written the poem in Belgium, it was an American women, in New York, who would popularize the use of the poppy as a remembrance of those that died.  She came across the poem, two days before the Armistice, in an issue of “Ladies Home Journal” while between work at Hamilton Hall where she tended to needs of service men coming and going from the Western front.    The poem in that issue was titled “We Shall not Sleep” an alternative name to “In Flanders Fields.”  She would decide then to wear a poppy to remember those who had given their all in the war to end all wars.  But, she would also search part of New York and eventually find red silk poppies that she would give to attendees of a war conference at Hamilton Hall.  To Moina Michael, the poppy was more than a symbol or recalling the dead of the war.  She viewed it as a symbol of optimism.  The war had ended and peace had now come over a war weary world.   Maybe it was presaging the shift of power for the old world to the new, but it is interesting that a war in Europe has a symbol set forth in a poem by a Canadian, with the symbol popularized by an American.

Battlefield of the Great War (World War I)

One symbol of old Europe would be the Tower of London.  A prison and symbol of terror in its own right,  it housed and saw the executions of Thomas More and others.   But, this fall it has its moat (August until November 11) filled with ceramic red poppies.  It displays one red poppy for each of the 888,246 persons from the British Empire, like Alexis Helmer, who had perished in the Great War.  It is a remarkable and haunting reminder of the human cost of war.  The poppy, while having a red color that reminds us of the blood that is shed in times of war and police actions, is also a symbol of hope-- that from fields thought barren due to battle new life can arise.  Peace can overcome strife. 

Ceramic Poppy display at the Tower of London

On this November 11, Veteran's Day, our thoughts go to veterans both dead and alive, particularly those who served in the Great War, and our other conflicts.  These conflicts, of course, unfortunately show that the Great War did not lot live up to President Woodrow Wilson’s claim of putting an end to all wars. Interestingly, it was the armistice begun almost a century ago that perhaps did more than any other factor to lead to the rise of a fanatic to take power, leading to a conflict even more costly than the Great War a generation later. Yet, we still look to the poppy to represent those who have been called to serve the nation.

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie

In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

(poem by John McCrae)

 Photos from Google Images

Crash

One benefit of advancing technologies is a decrease in weight of many items.  We had an old catho-ray tube television in the basement, and many years ago the on-off switch stopped working, but we got by with the remote.  Well, the remote stopped working and we decided that it was simply best to part with the television.  My wife told me that this should be a blog post in what happened next, and since I always, or most always, listen to her here is the blog post.  From the title, one can probably guess what happened.

Online photo of old Catho-ray Tube Television

The old 27" tube television was very heavy.  I was able to haul it up from the basement without incident, but getting it down the front outside steps, I pulled some ligaments and muscles on my left side of my stomach area down into my leg.    I could feel the pull, or stretch as it occurred.  But, that was not the worst.  I sat the monster down on the pavement so my wife could help me load it into the car.  Our new vehicle has a much higher load in height, but here, I realized, the TV was too large and heavy for me to lift in by myself.   We set the TV in the back and we got it set into the car to take it to a recycling location.  Backing out of the garage the television tipped over and rammed the tailgate of the vehicle.  So, there I am on the steep grade in the driveway wondering if it damaged the back window or the tail gate.  I decided I needed to open the tailgate, and try to catch the TV at the right moment to straighten it back up.  Meanwhile I hear my wife making some comment as she sat in the passenger seat.  I had no luck trying to straighten the big weight back up, and crash it falls face first on the drive breaking the massive glass tube.  I never would have guessed that the glass was thick as it was, but it makes sense in that most of the weight is in the glass.  Her comment was to get the car on a level surface.

32" LED Insignia Television

After cleaning up the mess of glass in the driveway, we delivered the television to a recycling location and picked up a new one for the basement, and the first thing one notices is how light the new TV is, although it has a larger screen size.  A bag of finch bird seed we picked up as we ran errands weighs more than twice as much as the new TV, but much less than the old tube TV.  The new TV weighs 9 pounds. Information online indicated that an old 27" tube TV likely weighs over 75 pounds, and perhaps as much as 90 or 100.  Quite a weight difference.   

My wife asked, what lesson was learned today?  She answered for herself, saying to ask for help, with a loving comment such as "Oh no, you have to be the big tough guy thinking you can do this all by yourself."  My thought was, in lessons learned, that I probably should have laid down to begin with.  My second thought was, I should have done this when she was not around, kinda of like when I get on the roof to clean out the gutters.

Images from Google Images

Nature's Canvas

One nice thing about being retired is that you can up and do something without having to plan a day off of work.  This fall, my spouse and I have taken a few day trips without any real planning.  Mainly, if we notice the forecast is to be fairly nice, we then may decide to go ahead with the day trip.  Most day trips have involved hiking at a county or state park or natural area.  Yesterday, was one such day.
Even though the fall colors are well past their prime, the colors, shapes and even sounds that comprise nature's canvas can still awe.  It is much better than simply looking at the happy trees of a Bob Ross painting.

Parfrey's Glen

Noticing the day before that the forecast for November 1, All Saints Day, was to be fairly nice with partly sunny skies and temperatures near 50 degrees we decided to take a hike the next day.  We went on our way to Sauk County.  We hiked at two different locations:  Parfrey's Glen, the first state natural area, and then Devil's Lake State Park.  At Parfrey's Glen there was one other vehicle in the parking lot, but we noticed no one on our walk in or out of the glen, but did see a couple sitting at a picnic table upon our return to the parking lot.  Parfrey's Glen receives a good deal of traffic on nice weather days. I recall one day when cars lined both sides of County DL for quite some distance.  I suspect a few week ago, when colors were at their peak, the gorge was quite busy. 

Detail of brook in Parfey's Glen

Being the only two souls in the gorge allowed for an easier hike, and to listen to water of Parfrey's Glen Creek as it flows over stones, fallen leaves, and branches.  My wife was so entranced by the sound that she said that she could spend part of the day reading a book by the brook that is the stream.  Due to the flow of the water, we could not get as deep in the gorge as normal.  I suspect if it was summer I would have done so, as slipping into the water has less consequence on a warmer day than on a cool fall day. 

Striations in Baraboo Quartzite rock
at Devil's Lake State Park, boulder trail

As we are now in the latter part of fall, the trees were beyond prime, and the main colors remaining were a variation of rust--the oak trees. The mighty oak may hold on to some leaves through the winter.  There of course was a stray yellow or other bright color tree, but as we looked at the monadnocks that comprise the Baraboo Bluffs, it was the variation of rust colors that really struck our eyes.  Well lacking the vibrancy of bright reds and yellows the hardwood oaks have their own unique color variation.  A rust color with an orange tinge, a rust color with a red tinge, a rust color with a burgundy tinge provide a quilt work of patches up the sides of the bluffs.   Photographs cannot do justice to the slight color variation of which the eye can discern.  The  slight color variation was especially noticeable when we drove from Parfey's Glen to Devil's Lake.  The colors are fast disappearing now that we are in the last month of meteorological fall (Sept., Oct., Nov.).

Nature's Canvas
Rust, yellow, green and grey colors
Devil's Lake State Park

As the fall colors disappear, so to do the crowds.  The variable weather, has decreased the staying power of the fall colors.  Rain and high winds have bared the branches of trees, it seems, quicker than a less rainy and windy fall.  The Autumn Purple Ash in my yard finally got to full color, but wind and rain the next day reduced it to a mainly skeletal structure, with few determined leaves. When last at Devil's Lake in September, it was a rare day for this fall, being sunny and nice.  In September it was so nice, I could swim.  While not the crowds of summer, the park had good attendance on that weekday. 

Oak Trees growing along east face of west bluff
Devil's Lake State Park

Yesterday it was a different story, yes there were people, but it was not near what one would see in warmer weather or a nice fall day.  We hiked the boulder rock trail along the west shore of the lake.  As we hiked we could hear hikers making their way on the east bluff trail across the lake.  I realized that the number of persons at the park was so small that the background noise was essentially nonexistent, and that now, unlike summer, sounds a good distance away could easily be heard.  As I looked over the lake to the west bluff the rust colored tinge of trees, broken by the occasional yellow, was intermixed with patches of green from pine trees, not to mention the predominantly purple-gray color of the Baraboo quartzite that make up the boulder fields along the lake side bluffs.

Part of oak tree along the Boulder Trail

Besides the lack of noise, the other thing is how much different is the landscape in the fall.  With leaves coming off the trees one can notice things up a bluff not discerned during the dense foliage of summer.  As many times as we go to the same state park or natural area, there is always something to amaze, and yesterday it was the late fall color of rocks, stones, and water that make up nature's canvas.

Photos by the author, 1 November 2018

Note, for those who are interested:  Geologically, Baraboo Quartzite gets it purple to maroon color, which is interlaced with the grey, from iron (hematite) and other impurities in the stone.  The striations in some of the rocks are a throwback to the rocks original status as sandstone.  The sandstone metamorphosed into quartzite through geologic forces eons long since past.