Wildersmith on the Gunflint - Dec 20
Wildersmith on the Gunflint by Fred Smith December 20, 2019
Our seasonal madness is clearly in focus as everyone is scurrying here and there to be ready. Being ready means different things to different people which often does not necessarily hone in on the true meaning of Christmas. However, no matter what the intent, I hope there can be a moment of quiet, at least for one day. Perhaps all of us can reflect with a little respect and love for our fellow man in these darkest of American times.
There have been some atmospheric happenings along the Trail since we last met on the radio. Whereas this end of the Trail had been on the short end of snow affairs, an unexpected dumping brought a fresh eight inches to this neighborhood. Further, subzero followed with mercury readings dipping to twenty below and a bit more in places, so one of my Gunflint Christmas wishes was delivered surprisingly early.
It was mentioned last week I would confirm the ice-on date for Gunflint Lake. While it appeared the 10th would be the likely date, “Mother Nature” had other plans. Winds on the 10th raised a ruckus opening things back up. The next day was a different story as both zero temperatures and quiet air combined to put on the final icing, therefore, December 11thgoes into my weather data bank. This is about the Gunflint Lake norm over the past four decades.
It’s amazing how so many get caught up in the magic of this season, and yours truly is no exception. I can possibly blame it on coming into the world on Christmas Eve while others seem to come down with the fever right after Halloween decorations give way to Christmas.
It’s just hard to resist humming the traditional tunes that dance through our heads in prelude to the night of all nights. In honor of this advent time, I’d like to share a rendition of an old favorite with a north woods twist. The lyrics will be a stretch, a composer I’m not, nor a warbler, I cannot carry a tune in a bucket. I’m certain all remember the melody and I invite you to hum along if the spirit is moving Titled, “The Twelve Days, of an up North Christmas,” here goes.
On the first day of Christmas, the forest gave to me…a squirrel slipping up a tall tree:
On the second day of Christmas, the forest gave to me… two lynx a slinking…and a squirrel slipping up a tall tree:
On the third day of Christmas, the forest gave to me…three martens chasing…two lynx a slinking and a squirrel slipping up a tall tree:
On the fourth day of Christmas, the forest gave to me…four foxes trotting…three martens chasing…two lynx a slinking and a squirrel slipping up a tall tree:
On fifth day of Christmas, the forest gave to me…five prowling wolves…four foxes trotting…three martens chasing…two lynx a slinking and a squirrel slipping up a tall tree:
On the sixth day of Christmas, the forest gave to me…six gray jays begging…five wolves a prowling…four foxes trotting…three martens chasing…two lynx a slinking…and a squirrel slipping up a tall tree:
On seventh day of Christmas, the forest gave to me…seven ravens squawking…six gray jays begging…five wolves a prowling…four foxes trotting…three martens chasing…two lynx a slinking and a squirrel slipping up a tall tree:
On the eighth day of Christmas, the forest gave to me… eight soaring eagles…seven ravens squawking…six gray jays begging…five wolves a prowling…four foxes trotting…three martens chasing…two lynx a slinking and a squirrel slipping up a tall tree:
On ninth day of Christmas, the forest gave to me…nine blue jays yapping…eight soaring eagles…seven ravens squawking…six gray jays begging…five wolves a prowling…four foxes trotting…three martens chasing…two lynx a slinking and a squirrel slipping up a tall tree:
On the tenth day of Christmas, the forest gave to me…ten black bears sleeping…nine blue jays yapping…eight eagles soaring…seven ravens squawking…six gray jays begging…five wolves a prowling…four foxes trotting…three martens chasing…two lynx a slinking and a squirrel slipping up a tall tree;
On the eleventh day of Christmas, the forest gave to me…eleven white tails browsing…ten black bears sleeping…nine blue jays yapping…eight eagles soaring…seven ravens squawking…six gray jays begging…five wolves a prowling…four foxes trotting…three martens chasing…two lynx a slinking and a squirrel slipping up a tall tree:
On the twelfth day of Christmas, the forest gave to me…twelve hidden moose…eleven white tails browsing…ten black bears sleeping…nine blue jays yapping…eight eagles soaring…seven ravens squawking…six gray jays begging…five wolves a prowling…four foxes trotting…three martens chasing…two lynx a slinking and a squirrel slipping up a tall tree:
Whew!!! That’s it, out of breath from humming to myself and keyboard digits are numb!!!
For WTIP, this is Wildersmith, on the Gunflint Trail, where every day is savored, wishing all the merriest of Christmas’, with love and peace on the greatest birthday of all!
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