The new novel by Leif Enger.

I admit I was predisposed to enjoy this near-future, post-collapse novel, since I live within sight of Lake Superior. And no doubt, that made me like it more. Duluth is one of the few towns mentioned which retains its early 21st century name, but anyone familiar with the area will recognize the many towns with new names, such as Port Mineral.

A bookstore features heavily in the first quarter of this novel in which books have become rare reminders of the past, allowing for many literary references. I was most pleased by discovery of “the complete McGee” but the characters referring to themselves as quixotes may be most important.

The rest of the novel covers travel by sail around Lake Superior, a combination of fleeing from and searching for. Characters arrive, some stay, some go, including a villain I intensely wanted to die. There is sadness of deep loss and deaths, but also pleasure in new community forming and resisting despair both personal and societal. Maybe just the right mix to reach both pessimists and optimists. A pleasure to read.

Noticed a visitor on my screen a couple mornings ago. Didn’t want to disturb, so I quietly took a few horrible photos. 

Later in the day, I got this exterior view through another window. 

 

Stayed all day, left shortly after dark, hasn’t returned. Wasn’t the worst spot–5th floor of a tall building, an inside corner of a U-shaped building with a roof below, so it was a bit cavelike.

Reading advance copies of a couple University of Minnesota Press to be published in January. Impermanence: Life and Loss on Superior’s South Shore, and Gunflint Falling: Blowdown in the Boundary Waters. Not supposed to review this far in advance, but I definitely enjoyed the first, and the second, which I’m still reading, seems to be the blow by blow (sorry) stories of people who were there at the time (July 4, 1999). 

“One of the penalties of an ecological education is that one lives alone in a world of wounds . . .” Aldo Leopold

A couple of the newest textbooks:

“Crossings: How Road Ecology is Shaping the Future of Our Planet” by Ben Goldfarb. I decided not to read this one. There were many reasons, individual and ecological, why I never owned a car, haven’t driven one in almost 40 years, and generally tried to travel little within a society no longer designed for local living. Roadkill and habitat destruction, included in this book along with many other negative effects, were definitely among them. But I’m not interested in reading about how people are trying to make an inherently bad thing better.

I’ll be reading the following one as soon as possible, because it focuses on the nonhuman species, which interest me more than my own species, and which are more worthy of sympathy for their fate. “The End of Eden: Wild Nature in the Age of Climate Breakdown” by Adam Welz.

“ ‘I now better understand those climate researchers who feel separated from society because they cannot comprehend why so many people don’t see their findings as heralding an emergency. It’s profoundly alienating to carry and communicate important knowledge that the people around you’ won’t act on.”

Two roads diverged in a green wood.

In the early going, it looked like I’d missed thimbleberry season completely, but I found a few. I ate all the perfect ones before taking this photo.

And one of my long-time favorites, jewelweed.

I liked this balcony over the river.

The Monster of the Fern Forest.

I listened to a woodpecker for a while, and finally caught a glimpse at the moment of flight. Enough to see the bird was smaller than a Pileated, which I’d assumed from the sound and which narrowed it down not at all, but at least I hadn’t missed the big bird.

It took a lot of patience to get even these mediocre photos of some active Waxwings.

The zoo had both of their cougars, so it wasn’t one of them who was filmed in yards in town this week.

Flower girl.

The bears were excited to see me.

Last night I was looking over the program for the annual gathering of the Thoreau Society, which has a focus on extinction this year, to decide if I wanted to sign up for the Zoom meetings (was more fun when I lived in Boston and attended in person). The keynote speaker, Andri Magnason, a writer from Iceland, interested me, and I found the local library had a couple of his books and requested them.

I picked them up this afternoon, and walking home, heard and saw the peregrine falcon pair from the building’s nest box screeching and circling. Must be someone on the roof, I thought as I watched. Soon enough, someone came over the side of the building, returning the newly banded nestlings to the box. Unfortunately, I didn’t have a camera with me, but here’s a photo of my legs from 2009.