You may not find this terribly rewarding unless you're included here, so this is a good time for casual and random browsers to turn back before they get too caught up in the sweep and majesty of the proceedings and can't let go.
After eight months stuck in a semi-urban condo (where 'going outdoors' meant the hall corridor), and six days in the back of the car or locked up in hotel rooms, Melvin the Doge and demonic little Choupette have arrived back at the lake in the Wisconsin Northwoods.
Waiting out the latest of this summer's extraordinary rainstorms
The siesta bell has rung out.
A first foray into the canal, 17 June 2022
Through the first half of the canal, to the midlake
Probably almost every tree disease we could name is represented here.
Wraithlike, desperate tree-corpses
We're looking for sunning turtles, leaping frogs, even the occasional snake on a log. This gentleman here claims to have observed recently a sizable snapping turtle right here, but that could not be confirmed.
Here are the not much healthier trees along the shoreline at Mussent Point -- half of them seem to have deposited their top halves in the lake.
Getting used to the new dock location. That other hydrobike we have recently determined to have leaked out all of its gear oil and will require further committee decision-making.
That's the well-known eagle's nest on the main island, Adjidaumo, with, we're informed . . .
. . . only one juvenile this year.
Serious shoreline undercutting from the speedboat wakes, and the beautiful Tigertail, formerly part of the clan's post-lumber company property but recently donated, with most of the rest of the undeveloped shoreline around the lake, to the Northwoods Land Trust.
Arboreal carnage along the western shore
Woodpecker holes give away the etiology of the problem:
. . . first the parasitical bug invasion, then the rapacious bug-drilling bird coup de grace.
The lake appears to be its own tree-necropolis.
How many birch trees do we see here?
Still another inconvenient rainstorm
(-- Send it to Lake Mead, why dontcha!)
Woodpecker holes tell the story.
A fine new picture on the wall of the study
The 'studiolo', so to speak, with a background photo of the medieval pilgrimage destination of Conques and a blood pressure monitor, for all odds.
Carol's visiting for the week, and her car seems to be infested.
But it's just Choupette, ensuring that she's not left out of any impending adventures.
The Tigertail again, beautiful in the afternoon sunlight
Hydrobikes maintaining their readiness to fulfill any commands -- or the front one is. The one in the back appears to be foutu; a grievous crack in the casing has leaked out all of the lubricant.
Kristin's cottage, north end: the bedroom, study, and bathroom wing
Melvin's wriggled back into his favorite hideaway; oh, but . . .
. . . that's not Melvin.
Trampoline Watch: guarding the property against interlopers
Secchi dish -- not so promising this time; too many wakeboats and rainstorms abusing the gentle lake.
Storm clouds and thunder, uh oh
We're bolting to get under the highway bridge. No one wants to be out in the middle of a lightning storm sitting on a metal bicycle frame.
More thunder and lightning flashes, and the rain clouds are nearly upon us, so . . .
. . . we dash, or pedal, frantically for home. But one of our homes is 3 kilometers to the north. So let's go!
But with a pause to memorialize an almost colorful ex-tree
Even the eagles are heading for cover
A biblical torrential has descended upon us. Faster.
Any port in a storm, we're bunking in here for the duration, if . . .
. . . the renters in the cottage up the hill don't object too strenuously.
The kind of rainfall that will beat you to the ground and inflict a concussion upon you
-- No, no, everything's fine, we'll be home in a little while. No, no, really, no problem. So far.
A fine way to waste half an afternoon, shivering on a slippery dock; we're deciding . . .
. . . to make another run for it. Or pedal for it.
Back to Mussent Point 20 minutes later. The storm's relented.
The eagle's nest in sunlight
The northeastern reef off the main island, Adjidaumo
Crossing the northeastern reef
Cats importune us pitiably, reflexively, to be let out of the house, then squat on the back porch wondering why.
Waiting for each other to propose something
-- Choupette! The bus doesn't run here anymore.
Whenever boredom threatens -- attack!
Then go back to sleep.
Yearning to go outside again.
Next up: A few days in 'Duluth' (said to be in Minnesota)