NATURE IS A TEACHER, BUT DO WE LISTEN?

Copyright 2024 by Lori-Ann Willey

The inspiration for this writing piece comes from a conversation I had with a woman in a waiting room last week.  Among our many discussions, we talked about how nature can predict the weather, but so few people know how to do that these days, including some of those in that profession.  

This morning, with sprinkles dropping all around, I figured I had enough time to step off the deck and look over my gourde plants.  The second my bare feet hit the ground, the invitation to walk toward the woods was far too inviting, and like Hansel and Gretel following the bread trail, I fall for Mother Nature’s luring woodsy tricks every time, too.  Everything about a wooded area is always a temptation for me -always has been, so, instead of looking over my garden plants, I walked into the woods instead.  Despite the weather, there were no mosquitoes after my blood, and the sprinkles hadn’t filtered through the trees yet either.  It was a perfect time for a walk-about.

As I put one barefoot in front of the other, my attention drew to a large boulder with navel lichen.  I’ll go back another day and harvest what is on the ground only.  Glancing around, I looked for wild fungi or berries to harvest, but found neither.  It wasn’t long before my mind turned to future erosion control methods.  I hadn’t cleaned up winter debris in this area yet, and today wasn’t the day to start.  Each walk through the woods is different and there is always something new to see.    The woods, like everything in the natural world, are ever-changing.  It’s not only the lightness or darkness of the day.  It’s not only the shadows that change from minute to minute, and it’s not only the leaves and plants that seem to shift in the wind either.  It’s all that and so much more.  It’s comfort, a sense of belonging, and a great appreciation and respect that hits all my senses, memories, and emotions, too. Even now, I still hear my parents’ voices as they taught me what they knew.  I can “see” and “hear” them -always with me, still reminding me of lessons learnt so long ago.  I was so little then, yet I was taught in a way that I would remember.

I grew up learning, studying, and observing nature -my parents were amazing teachers.  How to read the sky, the leaves, flowers, and the plants to know when rain is coming, etc.  The animals tell their own stories, too, and while hunting, I depend on the sounds of nature, the activity of the small critters and birds.  They all tell a story or situation, and that is especially so when there is something different happening in the woods with the birds and the squirrels being the loudest and most persistent tattle tails, EVER!  However, their movements alone tell a hunter a lot, too.  If in the woods often enough, seeing, and paying attention to details, etc.  one can’t help but to learn their behavior and their “language.”

Even when the sky is blue and the sun is bright, nature and its inhabitants know ahead of time when a storm is approaching, and they each prepare for it in their own way.  I mean, how often do you see birds flying in the wind and rain?    Sadly, most humans have lost the ability to read the sky/clouds, winds, plants, animals, etc. around us.  Even as a child, while fishing down a long stream far away from where we pitched our tents, I’d note the change in wind direction and knew what to expect.  Our family fished in the rain a lot, ‘cause that’s when the native trout bite the best, so the rain was welcomed by my parents, not so much by me.  There was no turning back simply because our clothes were soaked.  That may be why I do not like being in the rain to this very day.  Hard to know.

The wild daisy (Oxeye Daisy) is a plant that grows about everywhere and is easy to see if one chooses to.  As a child, it was fun to pull off one petal at a time saying, “he loves me, he loves me not,” however there was another reason to become fascinated by the flower -it can be used as a clock.  The flower always faces the sun throughout the day, even if the sun is hidden by clouds, the plant knows where it is in the sky.   By morning, the flower will start its day by facing east and at the end of the day, it’ll be facing west. 

The dandelion and clover flowers are two examples, as well as many others, which can tell if a storm is approaching.  The more humid it is, the tighter the flowers close.  The same can kindah be said about the leaves/stems of the maple and poplar trees.  When those leaves droop, look somewhat wilted, and in the slightest breeze you see the backside of the leaf as it flutters, the weather conditions are changing quickly.  It doesn’t mean that it will rain, but most always, it will, or at least the conditions are right for a rain shower, at least.

Growing up, family vacations either found us visiting my grandparents in Mount Chase or traveling logging roads as often as possible. Often, we’d do both, visit my grandparents, go camping, and then visit them again on the way back through.  No matter what, the trip was always a long one, and not just by distance and time, but because I was so very anxious to see my grandparents and go camping, too.  To an anxious child, hours traveling seemed like endless days before we’d arrive! 

The anxiousness always started the second my parents packed a couple loaves of bread, canned potatoes, a small bag of flour, salt, pepper, and butter.  Canned potatoes because they were easier to pack and wouldn’t become bruised or over-heated enroute.  The rest of our food would be fish caught and berries picked.  We packed light, and we fished and foraged hard.

For hours, we traveled north before reaching my grandparents, then onto “Paper Company Land.”  Those roads were and still are slow and bumpy so if I were the napping type, the second we reached a dirt road, I’d’ve been jolted awake.   I always enjoyed watching the trip along the way, from the second we left our house to the point at which we’d pitch our tents.  Even as a little-little girl, I knew, that one day, it would be me bringing my family to such faraway places…and I did. We pretty much had our favorite places to pitch a tent.  Back then, there were no maps, there were no checkpoints, there were no campsites, and there were no road names or signs.  I simply paid attention.   I knew which roads to take, towns we’d pass through, and the store owners by name, too.  

As we slowly traveled those bumpy logging roads for hours on end, I’d speak up and tell my parents things like, ‘That’s where we saw the dead bear once,’ ‘We almost hit a moose there before,’ ‘We never caught anything in that little brook except for chubs.’   My parents always seemed impressed with my memory from year to year, but they had no idea how many times I’ve traveled those roads and relived those memories in my head.  I always wanted to be camping!  Always!  Now, over 50 years later, I still find myself living each day with just as much (more) appreciation as I did at the age of five!

One part of the trip that I didn’t like was how dusty those logging roads were, but only because they blocked my view as we drove along weaving around potholes for hours on end. Being unable to see, took away the anticipation of what awaited around the next corner -usually a moose.  With limited view from my very anxious eyes, only then, was it OK to have a quick rain shower to “keep the dust down” as my father would say. Like him driving, I wanted to see everything, so sitting in the middle of the back seat ensured that I’d be able to see through the windshield and side windows at the blink of an eye or the turn of the head.   

When the dusty road stopped my viewing pleasure for longer than a few minutes, I would instinctively glance at the poplar and maple sapling leaves along the road edges hoping to see wilted leaves fluttering in the slightest wind on a hot dusty day back.  This was back when there was no air conditioning in vehicles, and especially in our red truck with an extended cab.  Taught at a young age to identify certain trees, I knew if I saw the  backside of poplar and maple leaves as they fluttered in the air meant rain was on its way, even if it ended up being that five minute shower, it not only meant less dust, but it meant cooler air so we could roll down the truck windows again without choking on that road dust!

One is never too young to learn the ways of nature, and it doesn’t matter how knowledgeable you are, there is always something to learn, something to see, something to hear, something to smell, something to touch, and something to remember -the physical and emotional connections.

Illegal Campfires - A Concern in the Maine Woods

Copyright 2024 by Lori-Ann Willey 

IT IS CAMPFIRE SEASON and though there are people who scrunch their noses at the 2023 campfire code, I do not. Lemme tell you why.  There are legal campfires and there are illegal campfires. There are careful people, and then there are careless people. 

Our camp sits on a dead-end private camp road with only one little side shoot to access a hydro dam. The camp road is paid for and maintained by a road association of a scant handful of camp owners. The road is narrow and filled with "S-turns" until the edge of the lake is seen, then from there, it goes fairly straight. There is only one way in, thus there is only one way out -our only escape route. 

Over the years, I've not been the only camp owner who has disassembled illegal campfires at the dam…sometimes still smoldering. I'm not the only one who has concerns over the fires, the litter, the torching of trees with a flame thrower, the open gunfire, the spinning out vehicles, and 4-wheelers that leave trenched donuts throughout the roadway either. I will take the time to also mention, trash thrown on our property includes items such as underwear, panties, used condoms, dirty diapers, used tampons and pads, broken bottles, empty worm containers, beer cans, and discarded cigarette butts. I won't go into a situation several years ago, of a young couple having sex on a rock behind our camp. They strayed from their group for some private time and assumed, because all was quiet, that we were not here at the time.... or simply didn't care if we were. 

Aside from all that, there is a real concern about the possible fire hazards. With increased exposure and exploitation in this area, the increase in illegal fires, litter, increased chances of break-ins, and theft is a real concern.  Now, imagine an illegal campfire surrounded by softwoods and birch trees with natural oils that quickly and easily catch fire, hence why those tree parts are often used as fire starters.  

In an area of high winds, flames are either pushed toward us or away from us.  If towards us, how quickly and easily it’ll spread toward camps, blocking road access -our escape route. If away from us, it also means blocking our escape route.  

Now, picture this scenario and my situation with Paul, a Disabled Veteran in a wheelchair.  Being his official caregiver, I can tell you that a fire is a genuine concern.  If an illegal fire, left unattended or not put out properly and fully, depending on the wind direction, we may not wake before flames reach our camp or as the prewarning smoke filters through our windows.  Wind blowing in another direction pushes the fire along and crosses our camp road due to the many sharp twists and turns.  Either way, our exit is blocked by fire.

If you’ve never had to help someone into a wheelchair and into a vehicle then this concern may not resonate with you much, but I assure you, there is concern here.  With that said, I tend to be a bit protective of people when it comes to safety anyway, so there is that. 

Let’s say there is a fire, I can get Paul out and into the truck, what happens if the road becomes blocked by fire? Then, of course, I’d want to have time enough to warn and wake up any camp owner below us.  How can I?  You may think that because we have a stair lift to the boat, we can just go that way.  Ok, but if there is fire upon us, that stairlift works on power…it plugs into the solar system via converters.  Cords melt, and power is lost.  What then?  Tell Paul to tuck and roll down the stairs? The only way I’d do that push would be to save his life.  

Paul has recently been diagnosed with Stiff Persons Syndrome, which is no surprise, as it was suspected for a few years now, on top of all his other disabling medical issues that limit his mobility, but I won't go into those right now.  One may wonder, if such concerns and such limitations, then why be where we are in the first place?  Three words – Quality of Life. And as a Disabled Veteran, he’s already “paid his dues”, so to speak. If a wildfire goes through this area, the quality-of-life changes for everyone, not just for us.  

Though most people are responsible with their campfires, it only takes one match lit by one person to ruin the lives of others.  This is only MY personal story.  Others have their own.  I, for one, approve of this 2023 campfire regulation. However, there will be those who ignore the regulation, think they are exempt from it, and will do as they want no matter in the woods or within their own backyard.  Being responsible, or not, in certain conditions, even a small campfire can get out of control.  It’s a risk and gamble each of us take when having a campfire, legal or illegal.  It comes down to making the right choices, responsibility, the protection of these woods, and the people who live here.  Camp owners tend to be careful because we have so much to lose.  Careful or careless exploiters, not so much. 

Throughout my childhood, Smokey the Bear lessons were taught in school and reinforced by parents.  Does that still happen?

 

DISABLED VETERANS DESERVE A QUALITY OF LIFE, TOO

Copyright 2024 by Lori-Ann Willey

I feel so fortunate that these breathtaking photos capture the serene beauty that reflects the solitude that our private camp offers.  Both directions of view remind me of how incredibly fortunate we are to live in such a place as this. The American flag reminds us of the simple joys of freedom and the peace that nature brings to our hearts.

This quiet lake, with the distant mountain that stands majestically in the background, has lived in this landscape before man existed -how do I envy its place in history, its creation…the fact that it was here first. The solar panels, though hidden more each year is as if the land wishes to hide the intrusion of man.  They lay still and silent, symbolizing our harmonious relationship with the environment, embracing sustainable living while cherishing the near-untouched wilderness that surrounds us. The stillness of the water, broken only by an occasional ripple, invites us to pause and appreciate the solitude…to reconnect with ourselves and the natural world.  “To be one with nature” is not an understatement for those who are here for other reasons than exploitation for personal and monetary gain.  True nature enthusiasts do not entertain such invasive thoughts.

Living in this remarkable place has been a true miracle, especially as we work to improve the quality of life for someone with limited physical abilities who is facing medical issues as a Disabled American Veteran who's “done his time” and is mostly wheelchair-bound. The accessibility and peace of our surroundings provide an exclusive form of therapy, offering physical relief and emotional and mental compensation -nature’s exchange if you will. The relaxed environment helps ease the stresses and strains of medical challenges, creating a sanctuary where healing and well-being are nurtured by nature's peaceful and gentle hug.

These daily views evoke a deep emotional attachment to seclusion and nature. They remind me of the importance of preserving, to a certain extent, these untouched landscapes, where we can find peace, solace, and a sense of belonging away from the hustle and bustle of everyday life. Away from places and people who seek exploitation and monetary value for oneself over the value of nature and those who live within it -those who live in the woods for a different reason, and with a separate set of values. 

Here, a place where time seems to stand still, and the only sounds are the whispers of the wind and the gentle slap of water against the shoreline, against an exposed rock, and an over hanging twig, shrub, etc. This is our retreat, a place to escape, reflect, and rejuvenate in the embrace of nature's quiet beauty. We are truly fortunate to call this place home. Here is where we can find strength, comfort, and inspiration amidst the challenges we face.

I openly share our daily lifestyle despite the daily obstacles we face.  Although I am my husband’s caregiver, my posts are not doom and gloom as they could be had I a different mindset than I do.  Instead, I wish to show that despite the obstacles we are faced with each day, I choose to show that we are living examples of a positive mindset, and “Where there is a Will(ey), there is a way.” 

Sincerely, 

The Wife & Caregiver of a Disabled Veteran

Between Me and Mt. K. -Above and Below

Between Me and Mt. K -Above and Below
Copyright 2023 by Lori-Ann Willey

On this warm late summer early morning, the world seemed to hold its breath as the clock struck 3 am. The air split around my body and passed me by as a gentle breeze that carried the sense that not only was Mother Nature in slumber mode, but she promised peace and harmony. Above, the velvet-like sky reminded me of a black canvas -stretched just enough after it was painted so it revealed the little cotton divots exposed where paint couldn’t reach, each further enhanced -like diamonds against the black paint giving subtle hints of deep blue that had been tainted with a bit of green. White were the speckles -Mother Nature’s chosen color for the diamond-like stars -shimmering, blinking, and all seemingly the same, yet as different as you and I.  If one does not look, one does not see the changes minute by minute, night by night.  Crisp or faint, each has a light of its own and a story of their own.  Their light already traveled years before touching my eyes, telling me a story without words -their version of charades.

Beneath the shimmering stars was a nearly stilled lake.  At first, reflecting like a mirror doubling my nighttime view. From a dew-dampened deck, step after step, my bare feet gently stepped and felt each cooled, dampened board to the dock.  Down there, I had but a few seconds to watch the stars dance from both above and below before a light breeze picked up enough to erase them from the water’s surface.  Until then, only the silhouette of the lake-lined trees and majestic Mt. K divided star-filled sky above from the water below.  With the increased air movement, several loons sent out locator calls -such beautiful sounds to hear, ‘where are you?’, ‘I am here’.  Darkness and limited colors or not, I was surrounded by beauty both seen and unseen, and this sappy heart felt it all.  Appreciated it all.

After playing with a few settings so my camera could capture the view, I laid upon the damp dock boards and watched the sky.  I saw no shooting stars to wish upon -do kids still do that?  Even though my body sucked up the moisture and cold alike, I, in turn gave up body heat and after a while, I became a bit chilled. Moisture from the deck boards, or not, I propped upon my side, settling my head upon my arm and continued gazing upward at the dark silhouette of Mt. K (Katahdin). In my mind’s eye, through the darkness, I could see its jagged edges cut by glaciers of long ago, a distinctive and longtime figure against the night sky.  I thought about ancient Pamola tales, my Kinap story, and all those years of the stars that watched over this land from the beginning of time -Mt. K’s original guardian. Then, I thought about a painting I did once, a “black hole” opens above as if a cover to a jar, and an alien peers its eyes through to observe a captured world.  I had to smirk, because I always like a play on aliens of the stereotypical type as seen in our camp icons in the past.  Fun stuff.  All in good fun and wacky, or maybe distorted sense of humor, even if I’m the only one amused.

While my camera captured the view, I realized something.  The camera and I have something in common.  We are both observers and participants as we watch the universe and travel through time.  Though daylight approaches at a constant and stable speed, it often “stops” so I can become lost in the beauty of it all, while my camera captures 10 brief moments in a single photo as if time stopped briefly for an exclusive pose.  Thankful, I am that I live in a time when such things are capturable in one way or another. This includes my heart when it comes to nature.

Though still surrounded by darkness, and as the stars slowly faded away for the day, I was reminded of the song titled, IF.  Like most songs, I changed the words a bit to better suit the moment, 'Then one by one the stars will all go out".  More than 45 minutes had passed and as Daylight approached, she brought more wind, and chillier temperatures.  I had been outside laying on those dew-dampened boards long enough.  It was time for coffee.

 

Inspired by Nature

Copyright 2023 by Lori-Ann Willey

*Written one early spring morning.

Book Cover (A finger painting by Lori-Ann)

Leaning against the wooden deck rails on this cold spring morning, I find comfort as I gaze at the rugged and snow-capped mountain. Glacier-cut, its presence commands respect, and one that I can somehow relate to. My mind wanders as if recalling tales told long ago and long forgotten. My mind pieces visions and thoughts together, forging stories of their own. Each shows me as a child or teenager, and then as an adult, a wife, a mother, and a grandmother.  Pulling ideas from my own memories, experiences, and forgotten dreams, too. 

With a cup of hot coffee clasped in my hands, and its warmth seeping through my fingers, my mind ponders and works on a story -a continuance of my Kinap trilogy still in the writing process. It is times like this when I most feel a connection to my Native American roots. As the steam rises, swirls, and brushes past me, there is an overwhelming sense of belonging as if the essence of my ancestors flows through my veins, my skin is cool and clammy from the fine water particles.  Always, I’ve embraced nature and appreciated the mystery of Mother Nature, and my heritage that I know so very little about. I’ve always thought, “There is more to me than being labeled “white” simply because I do not hold a tribal card.

Standing in the cold morning air holding a steamy cup of coffee, I wonder about the herbs that were steeped in water, sipped by people long ago either for medicinal or nutritional value. Leaves, bark, plants, and roots were used to ensure better health at a time when the age of 40 was old. Here I am 56 years old, fastly going on 57, and I’m still a strong, rugged woman who can work for hours a day without fatigue or soreness the following day. Surely, that DNA comes from all corners of the globe, but truly, my mind and soul align more with my Native American ancestry, diluted DNA or not.

Lost in the beauty of the landscape, my imagination wanders.  Always, I allow it, using emerging thoughts as inspiration for the second book in my Kinap trilogy, "The Adventures of Alliette." As with Kinap, Alliette’s story is of courage and resilience, as well as a profound connection with the natural world. Only, on this morning, though I stand chilled by the early spring air, my heart is as warm as my coffee.  Alliette’s story unfolds.

By the time the first sunray touches the tip of Mt. K, I realize I’m left holding an empty coffee cup, and it is as cold as I am…as cold as those snow-covered rockslides upon the mountain. It is then that my thoughts drift to Alliette and her terrifying descent down the mountainside riding upon an avalanche of rocks, creating another scar across the face of such a rugged mountain. Visible from a dozen miles away, those natural scars are where Alliette's story unfolds—a tale of unexpected dangers and the untamed courage of a seemingly careless teen.  Seeing a bit of myself in Alliette’s character, allows me to better, or maybe more easily build Alliette's character, the intricate web of her adventures, too.

With the mountain as my inspiration and the taste of coffee on my lips, I embrace the magic of this spring morning.  It allows the story of Alliette to unfold within my mind's eye. The possibilities are endless, and I can't help but feel excited for the journey that lies ahead for us both.

Thank Bigfoot (A fun poem)

Thank Big Foot
Copyright 2023 by Lori-Ann Willey

At the base of Katahdin, so grand and tall,
I felt my bladdahs, urgent call,

I searched for a spot, away from the trail,

But oh no, no toilet paper?  What a fail!

Just as I panicked, and started to fret,

A bigfoot appeared, I'll never forget,
He kindly offered his fur, so soft and so thick,
And said, "Here, my friend, use this.  It's a quick fix!"

I couldn't believe it, but what could I do? 

Graciously, I took his offer, and said, "Thank you!"

His fur was so fluffy, so silky, and oh so warm,

It made me forget, my earlier alarm!

After I finished my business and turned to thank,

The Bigfoot, had gone over the bank,

So, when I looked back, he had disappeared,

Leaving me with his fur, and nothing to fear!

I learned my lesson, oh so clear,

Always bring toilet paper, when nature's near,

But if you forget, and Bigfoot comes to your aid,

Remember to thank him, and never be afraid!

Never Forget the Toilet Paper (A fun story)

Never Forget the Toilet Paper 

Copyright 2023 by Lori-Ann Willey

Camera-man photo

In the deep, dark woods of Maine, a group of friends set out on a camping trip at the foot of Maine's tallest peak -Katahdin. They packed everything they needed, or so they thought. But one item they forgot to bring would turn their trip into a living nightmare.

On the second day of their trip, one of the friends named Paul had to relieve himself. He wandered off into the woods and found a secluded spot. But as he finished, he realized he had forgotten to pack toilet paper.

In a panic, Paul searched for an alternative. He found some leaves, but they were all too rough and scratchy. He tried using his sock, but it only made things worse. Finally, he found a rock that was smooth enough to use. After scraping off the slippery clay-like mud against a nearby rock, he then swiped it across some damp moss that lay at his feet.

As he wiped himself with the "clean" rock, he felt a sharp pain in his hand. He looked down and saw a small cut, but thought nothing of it. Little did he know, that cut would be the beginning of the end for him and his friends.

Over the next few days, the friends began to experience strange symptoms. They had stomach cramps, headaches, and fever. They also started to see strange things in the woods - shadows moving, eerie sounds, and the feeling of being watched.

One by one, the friends started to disappear. Some were found dead, their bodies mutilated beyond recognition, and strangely, covered with small rocks as if to conceal their bodies. Others were never found at all. The remaining friends were terrorized by something they couldn't see or explain.  They wondered if Bigfoot really does exist.

As they huddled together in their tent, they realized that it was the rock that had caused their nightmare. It was cursed, imbued with an evil that had been awakened by their use of it. And now, it was coming for them.  However, one lone friend insisted it must be some wild beast known in those parts as "Sasquatch".

In the end, only one of the friends survived to tell the tale. He warned others never to underestimate the power of the wilderness, and to always pack the essentials. But some say that even to this day, the cursed rock, or Sasquatch, still lies in the woods, waiting for its next victims.