WHAT! WINTER ALREADY?

MY LAST POSTING WAS IN MAY JUST BEFORE THE SUMMER RUSH TO THE RIVER. AS SOON AS SCHOOL WAS OVER, CROWDS OF PEOPLE VISITED THE SHORT STRETCH BETWEEN SIX MILE HILL AND BOY SCOUT RANCH TO TRANSFORM WHITE LEGS AND TEST THE TEMPERATURE OF THE CLEAR WATER.

NON FEE CAMP SITE ON THE RIVER

AND STILL THE TWO CABINS KEPT AN AURA OF PRIVACY AND PEACE. OUR USUAL HERD OF DEER CROSSED THE RIVER BELOW THE RIVER CABIN AND GRAZED IN THE FIELD NEXT TO THE MEADOW CABIN. MY BLACK LAB BROUGHT ME A TURTLE WHO WAS ENJOYING THE SHADE OF A ROCK NEAR THE RIVER CABIN.

SPRING HURRAH!

After a long wet winter with days spent lounging around the wood stove, my prayer was answered just before I switched religions: Apple blossoms appeared on this very old tree planted by Ignatz Knapke, my predecessor by generations, when he was selling fruit and vegetables to gold miners. This was early 1900s. A pear tree and peach tree still exist.

Mother earth is exploding with wildflowers in every shade and combination of colors while the bare limbed oaks and maples are suddenly clothed in bright green leaves.

Spring is here—kinda: the Illinois River roars!

A powerful spring storm brought heavy rains to the Illinois Valley where 10+" fell in 48 hours.Though the West Fork of the Illinois has clear water, sediment seems to be coming from Deer Creek and East Fork of Illinois.

The raging river has totally covered the rocks and it heads to the Illinois Falls.

These photos were taken March 30, 2012 at 12:30 just 2 l/2 hours before the river crested at 25.67 feet and 28,682 CFS at the Kerby gauge. Note streams below the Kerby gauge increase the river volume downstream.

Winter Blessings: River Bank Salmon

Fish out of water—salmon carcass in willow

The beginning of March and twenty mile per hour winds whip sheets of snow across the river, loose twigs and dried leaves stick to alders lining the beach and dead salmon are quickly buried in the blowing sand--except for the decomposing carcass caught in one short willow.

I have seen many ripe salmon, easily found by following my nose, entwined in limbs several feet above the ground, teeth exposed, half eaten. Totally unappetizing unless you are a bear or a black lab.

Nowadays, I can walk to the river without holding my breath. When I first arrived over 30 years ago, the river was packed bank to bank with salmon and steelhead and otters patrolled the waters. My first canine companions discovered the gourmet pickings early on and they couldn't be contained. They loved to drag parts out from under a leaf pile, roll in the mess, dive into the delectable meat still clinging to the body and gulp the deadly tiny flukes embedded in the fish head.

Winter Blessings: Fireplace Blaze

On a cold foggy morning, it gives me great satisfaction to build a roaring fire in the wood stove and with a cup of hot coffee gaze for a very long time at the bouncing flames.  It probably takes me less than 5 minutes to build a fire but I remember the morning it took me two days to actually start one. It began when I was in a hurry to get the house warm before leaving for an appointment.

A blazing fire and curing wood: winter blessings

Opening the glass door to scoop out the ashes I heard a light tapping on the cold stove pipe. My first thought was a squirrel had come through the perforated fire arrestor. Great. I closed the door, told the squirrel to get its tail back up the pipe and went to my appointment.  Late afternoon, I returned to a chilly house and thumped on the pipe. It thumped back.

Winter blessings from the river—rain

It is winter and in some rebellious act of nature the temperature outside is in the 20s and it is raining. How is this possible? Shouldn’t  it be snowing? Maybe this is another example of quantum physics. The result is affected by the one observing; we need rain! Or the result of the Space Station soaring overhead. I’m wondering if I’ve discovered Nature is alive and capable of reacting...

It's winter and the river is running fast and clear ... 

I’m sitting within 3 feet of the fire in my wood stove, wearing layers of clothes, generating on my laptop and waiting for the house to warm up enough to move my chair back.

Every square millimeter of earth is a watershed

The Scenic Illinois River Canyon in the wake of the 1997 New Years Day storm.

In his wonderful book, The Habit of Rivers: Reflections on Trout Streams and Fly Fishing, Ted Leeson writes that: