Wildersmith on the Gunflint: December 24

The days of waiting have dwindled and our anticipation intensifies toward this annual blow-out celebration. Everyone’s been scurrying here and there trying to finish this and that before settling down for this big day in America and around the Christian world. Hopefully on the 25th there can be a moment where all of us can reflect with some tolerance and love for all of mankind. Thinking of all the tragedies man has imposed on fellow man during the past year, might we take time out to share some contemplation of peace.

The Gunflint Trail has been quiet and peaceful of late with most winter related activities being on hold. Some mini-snippets typical of up north at Christmas-time have drifted over the territory, but for the most part people who enjoy the season of white remain in a state of frustration. In this season of hope, perhaps the grip of “El Nino” will let go with a gift of snow and cold as we head into 2016.

Pre-holiday gatherings are winding down with the big birthday bash at hand. As the season of holiday tunes dance in our heads, I will attempt to serve up my rendition of an old favorite with an up north twist. The lyrics may be a stretch, a composer I’m not, but you all know the melody. Titled, “The Twelve Days of Christmas Up North," here goes and bear with me.

On the first day of Christmas, the forest gave to me…a lynx slipping up a tall tree.
On the second day of Christmas, the forest gave to me…two hairies pecking… and a lynx slipping up a tall tree.
On the third day of Christmas, the forest gave to me…three martens racing…two hairies pecking…and a lynx slipping up a tall tree.
On the fourth day of Christmas, the forest gave to me…four foxes trotting…three martens racing…two hairies pecking and a lynx slipping up a tall tree.
On the fifth day of Christmas, the forest gave to me…five wolves a-prowling…four foxes trotting…three martens racing…two hairies pecking and a lynx 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 racing…two hairies pecking and a lynx slipping up a tall tree.
On the 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 racing…two hairies pecking and a lynx 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 racing…two hairies pecking and a lynx slipping up a tall tree.
On the ninth day of Christmas, the forest gave to me…nine squirrels a scrapping…eight soaring eagles…seven ravens squawking…six gray jays begging…five wolves a-prowling…four foxes trotting…three martens racing…two hairies pecking and a lynx slipping up a tall tree.
On the tenth day of Christmas, the forest gave to me…ten bears a snoozing…nine squirrels a scrapping…eight soaring eagles…seven ravens squawking…six gray jays begging…five wolves a-prowling…four foxes trotting…three martens racing…two hairies pecking and a lynx slipping up a tall tree.
On the eleventh day of Christmas, the forest gave to me…eleven white tails browsing…ten bears a snoozing…nine squirrels a scrapping…eight soaring eagles…seven ravens squawking…six gray jays begging…five wolves a-prowling…four foxes trotting…three martens racing…two hairies pecking and a lynx slipping up a tall tree.
On the twelfth day of Christmas, the forest gave to me…twelve plodding moose…eleven white tails browsing…ten bears a snoozing…nine squirrels a scrapping…eight soaring eagles…seven ravens squawking…six gray jays begging…five wolves a-prowling…four foxes trotting…three martens racing…two hairies pecking and a lynx slipping up a tall tree.

Whew, that’s a lot of wild critters, I’m out of breath, fingers cramping and the keyboards a-smoking!

We at Wildersmith and those of the wild neighborhood hope you have a Merry Christmas, filled with love, peace and goodwill toward all beings! This is Fred Smith, on the Trail…

Keep on hangin’ on, and savor the moment!