Stopping by Woods
Robert Frost’s poem with these three words in its title leads us into sudden contemplation of cold, deep snow, and of a woods with its heavy, silent magic lived so separate from us. Even our word woods, used in the … Continued
Prison, Anyone?
Margotlog: Prison, Anyone? Back up to opportunity, and even further to need: nobody needs to tell us that the economy is sluggish at best and many people are without work. Fast forward to a few days ago, driving on the … Continued
The Boat House
When I began visiting a family resort near Cross River on the North Shore, a world of hidden structures and values opened up to me. Sure, I knew about the appeal of water from summers on the beaches near Charleston, … Continued
The Star at the Top of the Tree
It’s very northern of us, this tree-in-the-house at Christmas. I know, there are Celtic precedents, something about mistletoe, holly and the Druids, but the Christmas tree itself came from Nordic folk around the Baltic Sea, worshipping what remained green throughout … Continued
Bat Attack
I know, we are supposed to treasure our fellow creatures on this steadily shrinking planet. But there are limits. My limits start with bats. Pipistrelle from French or Italian; ours are probably myotis. From our first year in this tall … Continued
The Saints: Our Best Baseball
The Minnesota Saints ballpark in Saint Paul is nestled among railroad tracks, the wreck of a building where the fire department trains its novices to quench fires, and the viaduct that lifts Snelling Avenue over Bandana Square. Not a great … Continued
The Dalai Lama in Minnesota
There he stands in the University of Minnesota’s hockey arena, not a large, nor a small man in a drape of maroon cloth, his neck and arms bare, and a plastic visor circling his balding head like a slightly errant … Continued
Up and Back to the Lake
The drive north to Lutsen and back is relatively easy in early May. Road construction already begun, but hardly any traffic on the road. Still I had plenty of time to listen to two short books on disk. Driving up … Continued
And What Month Is April?
Not the cruelest, despite T.S. Eliot’s “April is the cruelest…,” though there’s plenty of breeding out of the deadland. Nor is it necessarily dreaded tax time since for us at least, we’re almost always so afraid of not sending enough … Continued