North Shore Morning

Chel Anderson is a botanist and plant ecologist and she joins us periodically to report on what she’s seeing in our woods and waters right now.

This project is supported in part by funding from the Minnesota Arts and Cultural Heritage Fund.

Northern Sky     -        October 2021
By Deane Morrison
     
October’s darkening skies provide a backdrop for planetary maneuvers and the unending stream of stars across the celestial stage.
     
As Venus holds its position above the sunset horizon, Saturn, followed by much brighter Jupiter, heads westward with the stars of Capricornus. On the 9th, red Antares, the heart of Scorpius, will be left of Venus and a waxing crescent moon in the sun’s afterglow. As Antares exits the sky, it draws closer to Venus and glimmers directly below the planet on the 16th. On the 14th, Jupiter and Saturn come out above a gibbous moon. 
     
On the 7th, Mars passes behind the sun and officially takes up residence in the morning sky—which is where you’ll also find Saturn, Jupiter and Venus next year.
     
Facing south, you’ll see—perhaps with help from a star chart—the relatively dim fall constellations. From west to east, the main ones are chevron-shaped Capricornus, the sea goat; scraggly Aquarius, the water bearer; and two-tailed Pisces, the fishes. Fairly high in the southeast at nightfall is the Great Square of Pegasus. Below the Great Square is a pretty ring of stars known as the Circlet of Pisces.
     
October’s full moon arrives the morning of the 20th. To see it, get outside by about 40 minutes before sunrise or it will have set in the west. If you’re not a morning person, enjoy the moonrise on the evening of either the 19th or the 20th. 
     
October closes with Halloween, an astronomically based Celtic holiday that was one of four “cross-quarter” days falling midway between an equinox and a solstice. On that night, evil spirits cooped up since May Day were released to wreak havoc on humankind. People left out food to appease the spirits and lit candles in gourds to ward them off; these were the forerunners of trick-or-treating and jack-o’-lanterns.  
 

In this edition of "Backpacking 101", Michelle Schroeder talks about how to properly care for and store your camping and hiking gear.

"The Oral Health Task Force is a homegrown solution unique to Cook County that works to provide dental care to the children of Cook County and the Grand Portage Band of Lake Superior Chippewa in conjunction with Grand Marais Family Dentistry. The Task Force provides community education on the importance of early preventative care and provides financial assistance through a generous sliding fee scale that makes dental care more affordable and accessible, including transportation to appointments if necessary. The OHTF began as a program of the Foundation and recently moved to the Sawtooth Mountain Clinic (August 2020) to ensure the program’s sustainability – this is great news for the residents of Cook County."

North Shore Morning host, CJ Heithoff talks with OHTF Chair, Paul Nelson about a new pilot program – a “Free Day at the Dentist for Seniors”.

"Money Matters" with Scott Oeth is a monthly feature on WTIP's North Shore Morning.
In this edition, Scott talks about being prepared for emergencies both financially and physically.

Amy Addy from The Retrievers and Missing Pets in the Northland talks with North Shore Morning host Mark Abrahamson about how to help get our pets back if they do go missing.

To view The Retrievers' Lost Dog Action Plan, click on the link below.

https://documentcloud.adobe.com/link/review?uri=urn:aaid:scds:US:33cddbd...

Trail Time
10-01-2021
By Marcia Roepke
 
​The last two weeks of September have been absolutely lovely on the Gunflint Trail. We’ve had rain, we’ve had sun, we’ve had temperatures about ten degrees above average. Usually the shorter days and cooler temps of September make me want to slow down, but this fabulous weather has sped me up again. I can’t get enough canoeing or fishing, it’s 76 and sunny and I just might swim this afternoon.  I want to be by, in or on the water all the time. With the weather so warm, it feels kind of strange to see little groupings of buntings by the road. I think of them as cooler weather birds. Juncos are back as well and yesterday we heard then saw a flock of cranes fly overhead, bugling and honking. They were flying so high, it was hard to see them. It is autumn, though it feels like August.
 
I’ve spent a few hours this September watching a new beaver lodge. First I found a comfortable place to sit with a good vantage point. I quieted my movements and my thoughts and then I waited. A red squirrel spent a few minutes announcing my arrival, then the woods behind me grew quiet; a raven then flew overhead, wheeled around and landed in a spruce tree right above and behind me, its screams seconding the squirrel’s vote about my presence. 
 
I used to try to talk back to the ravens, but they are wise to my tricks. I don’t fool them for a second — though I do think (immodestly) that my impersonation is pretty good. My dog demurs, and just gazes at me, concern all over her face whenever I make that strange sound. 
 
I once talked back to a red squirrel in its own language and I felt so amused when it grew furious and bounced up and down on all four feet chattering, railing at me. I walked into the cabin, then turned and saw the squirrel running straight at me. I knew there was a full length of glass between us, but the squirrel saw nothing but air and launched himself toward me til smack! Full frontal squirrel smash into the window. He fell back, then after a millisecond of a shake he launched again into the air. Smack! He fell back again and appeared unhurt but dazed, then he ran up a little hill and into the woods. If that glass hadn’t been there, God knows what that squirrel would’ve done to me. I don’t talk back to squirrels anymore. 
 
There was no talking at all on my part for this day of quiet beaver-watching. The weather was perfect for it. Cool in the shade, not too hot in the sun, zero bothersome insects. The water was still and smooth save for the circles from fish rising to feed. The leaves barely moved in a faint breeze. Occasionally a golden birch leaf fluttered down and plopped on the surface of the water. It was so quiet I could hear the leaf hit the water and a hundred feet away I heard the rising of a fish as it mouth closed upon a tasty fly. 
 
I sat for an hour? two hours? I lost track of time. There were no boats on the lake, no planes in the sky. I was mesmerized by the perfect mirror image of the sky and shore on the surface of the water, forming a design like a horizontal Rorschach blot. A junco flew up and perched in a cedar, cocking its little head at me before flying off. A dragonfly flew around me as it fulfilled its duty patrolling the shore. “No time to chat!” I imagined it saying to me. “I’ve got business to do!” They are such earnest flyers. Now, my goal had been to watch for beaver activity, and I did manage to see one shiny wet head surface and circle around before it silently dove under. That had been the goal, but I had gained much more than that in those silent hours by the water. The deep quiet felt as if it had got into my bones, as if I had soaked it up like a sauna. I had a long deep draught of quiet and I felt heartened and strengthened by it. 
 
 Loons are still in residence. I hadn’t heard them for a number of days and I assumed they’d left, even though it was unusually early. But it has been a strange summer. The lack of rain hit the area hard and we had those mid-summer dry crunchy weeks with fire danger a daily worry. I thought loons leaving early seemed congruent with the rest of the weird summer. But I was wrong. I tried not to take it personally, after all the whereabouts of the loons is their business. I have to remind myself: This is their place. I am the visitor. They will keep flying here long after I’m gone. 
 
This is Marcia Roepke on the Gunflint Trail
 

Chel Anderson is a botanist and plant ecologist and she joins us periodically to report on what she’s seeing in our woods and waters right now.

This project is supported in part by funding from the Minnesota Arts and Cultural Heritage Fund.

Chel Anderson is a botanist and plant ecologist and she joins us periodically to report on what she’s seeing in our woods and waters right now.

In this edition of North Woods Naturalist, Chel describes the confetti of leaf colors that are beginning to appear as well as her latest observations as we head into fall.

This project is supported in part by funding from the Minnesota Arts and Cultural Heritage Fund.

Celebrate the Night Week is September 19 - 25, 2021.

Andrew Papke-Larson with Starry Skies North IDA talks with North Shore Morning host, Mark Abrahamson about this celebration.

The Schedule of Events includes:

20th Monday                   
Speakers
Heart of the Continent Partnership 
- Bob DeGross, Superintendent, Voyageurs National Park
- Ann Schwaller, USFS Forest Wilderness Program Manager
- Trevor Gibb, Quetico Provincial Park Superintendent City of Duluth
- Diane Desotelle, City of Duluth Natural Resources Coordinator
 
21st Tuesday                  
Speaker
- James Rock, Director of Indigenous Programming at University Minnesota, Duluth and Research in Ethno-astronomy and Archeoastronomy
 
 
22nd Wednesday
Speaker
- Mary Stewart Adams, Star Lore Historian, Storyteller, and host of the weekly public radio program and podcast “The Storyteller’s Night Sky.”
 
 
23rd Thursday    
Speaker
- Travis Novitsky, Nature/Wildlife photographer and citizen of Grand Portage Reservation, Minnesota
 
 
24th Friday                       
Speaker 
- Bob P. King (AstroBob), Astronomer, photographer, writer for Sky & Telescope magazine and author of several best selling astronomy books for amateur astronomers

25th Saturday                  
- Workshop Home Light Improvements by Cindy Hakala, President of Starry Skies North IDA
- Cafe Scientifque Twin Ports - Trivia Night!
- Tour of Wildlife Lighting at Capstone Apartments & Village at Matterhorn - Measure and learn about light spectrums