‎63 Years of Memories....

‎63 Years of Memories....
that's what I have now. The photo below shows the chair on the point which for so many years was my father's favorite after-supper place to contemplate and cast for walleye. As much as I feel guilty about what's happened, I know he would understand and even say there's nothing to forgive. He lived life fully and moved on many times. I'm the one with the unique experience of being attached to a beautiful place for my whole life. And despite all my best efforts, yesterday the 'cabin' was sold. I signed the papers and, truth be told, a weight was lifted. A new life lies ahead without the obligations, but with all of the wonderful memories. My unrelentingly positive attitude says this is truly how it is, but my heart is still sad.

There are some things in life for which the balance between the obligation and the joy of ownership often cannot be sustained forever. It became clear that I was no longer up to the task of taking care of the place quite a while back. However, knowing what needs to be done and doing it are often far apart. Finally, no choice was left. It had to be sold.

Now it's gone. No more worrying about how long the grass or how deep the snow is up there. No more sublimely pleasurable early morning cups of coffee sitting on the dock when the color of the lake is like pale blue glass and the air is completely still. No more endless repairs, high taxes, and utility bills. No more late nights around the fire pit with friends and family - warm from both fire and friendship. No more frozen pipes or emergency calls to the furnace guys. No more saunas and midnight skinny dipping that make you feel like you'll live forever while your connection with nature is confirmed by the gazillion stars of the milky way and the loons calling out in the dark. No more concerns with low well water levels or water so hard and full of iron the clothes turn yellow and your newly washed hair feels like brillo. No more finding the way home by boat in the dark after a long day on the lake feeling like this is the only place you really, really belong. No more praying that the boathouse will make it another year without collapsing. And ultimately, no more making new memories with friends, family and loved ones. No new memories, that is, at Half Bay, Lake Vermilion, Tower, MN. New life... here we come!

How do you thank a place for memories?

Saturday, September 09, 2006

a timely perspective


These trees are the oldest living things on earth. They are so tough and weathered that it is rare to find a Bristlecone without multiple scars from lightning.

I have seen dendrochronologies from single bristlecones that have, among many little paper tags, the discovery of America, the middle ages, the rise and fall of Rome, Alexander the Great's reign, and King Tut's life and death.

There are extant examples known to have witnessed our world for hundreds of decades. Dozens upon dozens of centuries. Millenia after millenia.

Even after thier demise, they continue to stand silent vigil over desolate landscapes. The tree in this photo was likely germinated ten thousand years ago.

The rocks it grew from bear the fossils of extinct fish of an ancient sea. One that was thrust to eleven thousand feet in the sky, at a rate of one inch per year.

Our bones will be dust and our tombstones will erode away but the smallest of fish on the bottom of the ocean makes a mark that lasts for millions of years.

2 comments:

Sam Steiger said...

Hey bert...

These are on the CA/NV border...the White Mountains, right?

The oldest of the trees was talked about in a recent backpacker/adventure/outside...sparked a good deal of controversy in the case that someone would vandalize the old one~

Nice post man, keep it up!

Be well,
Sam

Bert said...

you certainly know your stuff Sam. The oldest one is named Methusela and its location is kept secret. There was one older still named Prometheus but it was killed by a biologist trying to study it