A Capture from the Learning Curve

We recently picked up two more game cameras. Before leaving the cabin last weekend, we had to install batteries and set both up so we could strap them to some trees in the woods.

As with any new electronic device, there is a learning curve to be negotiated before successfully inputting the date, time, and settings you prefer. In this case, the camera captured a slew of wonky images in various directions as we manipulated it while trying to input our preferences, creating something of a permanent record of our swerving about on the learning curve.

I’m sharing one of the captures of the cabin ceiling and Desiree’s forehead. Hopefully, the camera does better in the woods.

A Forehead Capture

—Mitchell Hegman

Game Camera Capture #2 and #3

On June 7, our game camera captured two images of a critter sniffing at the lens. Unfortunately, the animal approached so close to the camera that the images produced are both unfocused and washed out.

Before you take a guess at what this critter might be, you need to first understand that the camera is affixed to a fir tree at about 4½ feet off the ground.

I am of a mind that the too-close encounter features a bear.

Capture #2

Capture #3

—Mitchell Hegman

Game Camera Capture #1

Of all the things in the wild, seeing mothers with their new babies is the most exciting. As good fortune would have it, our game camera caught a moose and her little one crossing in front of our cabin on June 6.

I’m sharing the game camera capture here today.

Enjoy.

A Moose and Her Little One

—Mitchell Hegman

Looking for Something Unusual

I’m looking for something unusual in the den,

which is absurd,

for there is nothing.

The quartz crystals will not suddenly sprout wings

and flutter off, abandoning the fat petrified wood specimens.

I shouldn’t expect the staid shelves cradling my books

to have changed elevation.

It’s unlikely I will discover my wife won the lotto

and piled the winnings on my desk.

Our wildflower seed stock shan’t spring forth

from the right-hand drawer.

But I look anyway

because I haven’t found anything rare anywhere else.

—Mitchell Hegman

The Rat’s Nest

As a kid, I could tangle up fishing line on an open-faced reel with the best of them. My worst rat's nests, as we termed them, required my (generally frustrated) father to undo the mess. Often, line would need to be cut and the rod and line would require re-rigging.

I am compelled to announce that this weekend, my rat's nesting ability was equaled by a nine-year-old guest at our lakefront. He produced several noteworthy tangles while practicing his casting and retrieval abilities before cranking up the granddaddy of all nests in his line. The final tangle required the efforts of three adults to unravel it.

Well done, young man.

Three Adults Undoing a Rat’s Nest

—Mitchell Hegman

Here and Gone

Here: Beer on ice, purple orchid, American robins in the duff.

Gone: Grandparents, mother, father, sister.

 

Here: Political chicanery, baby moose, clear gemstones.

Gone: Robin Williams, the cats at my feet, incandescent light bulbs.

 

Here: Wanting to save all the songbirds, malicious bots, sweet onions.

Gone: Frank’s Place bar, staying out all night, pay phones.

 

Here: All that I need.

Gone: All that I let go.

 

—Mitchell Hegman

Secure

Two of our future leaders, ages seven and nine, are poking sticks in an anthill just to stir up the colony. We can now be assured that our repeating history is secure.

—Mitchell Hegman