Tales From the Wild Side

Winter 2021

Board of Directors

President                              Ilka Milne
Vice-President                  Mike Hammond
Secretary                              Gaby Emond
Treasurer                              Henry Van Ael

Committees

Newsletter                          Ilka Milne & Bob Saunders
Website                                 Ilka Milne & Bob Saunders
Events                                     Ilka Milne & Bob Saunders
Boardwalk                          Ahlan Johanson & Mike Hammond
Publicity                               Henry Miller & Ilka Milne

Stewardship Liaison      Gaby Emond

  

Field Trips

Ski Trip NW Bay Rainy Lake to Hope Lake

December 5th found four of us Ilka, Henry, Bob, and Luna working our way down Stampe Creek, carefully avoiding the thin ice below the first series of beaver dams, until finding thicker ice and skiing freely toward the NW Bay of Rainy Lake.  Luna, as usual, was out front leading the way, coming back to us now and then wondering why we were so slow. She was luxuriating in the freedom of the outdoors, possibly snickering that her pal Heath was moping at home recovering from his most recent encounter with a porcupine (apparently, he has a short memory).

The ridge of high pressure that has kept temperatures warm throughout November and into December (as an aside, this past November has been the warmest on record worldwide), has also prevented any significant snowfall so far.  Skiing on land has been marginal at best. However, temperatures have been cold enough for the ice to become solid and skiing has been superb on the creek and lake (although just to be safe, I have been skiing mostly close to shore).

The object for today was to ski across NW Bay to the start of the portage to Hope Lake, fight our way through the cattails at the edge of the lake, find the trail to Hope Lake, thrash through a thick forest of Tansy, pick off the burdocks that stuck to us as we pushed our way through, circumnavigate that lake and make out return, and hopefully, not break through the ice at any point during the day.  Knowing you must be on tenterhooks, anxious to know whether we succeeded and cannot wait to the end of the article to discover the answer, I’ll spare any anxiety you might have, and tell you right now that we accomplished all of these goals.  The trip itself was about 18 kms and we even had the sun appear for about half an hour.   Temperatures remained around -2C for the four hours it took to do the trip. With no trail breaking we were able to make good time.

The highlight was skiing around Hope Lake.  I had cut across the lake many times before on my way to Lake Despair and Footprint Lake, but had never circled around it. We weren’t the first to circumnavigate the lake this year.  We followed an otter who alternately took a couple of steps then would slide on its belly for two metres the entire way around the lake. Along the way Luna kept a lookout for squirrels, Ilka was kept busy looking for new mosses and showing us small liverworts on the trunks of trees, I was engrossed by the icicles along the shore, and Henry was in charge of keeping us moving along. We found a couple of very large red pines, one of which was riddled with Pileated Woodpecker holes, and which rattled with a hollow sound when Ilka tapped it with her ski pole.  The tree was leaning slightly and she quickly stepped away from the direction the tree would fall.  I assume she was thinking better safe than sorry.  Interestingly, there were a few places with thin ice and small holes no larger than a few cms across. I am guessing there were springs below the ice, but, as mentioned previously, we were clever enough to stay clear of these places. I didn’t see any areas like those on the NW Bay.

All in all, a beautiful day and a great ski with friends.

Henry keeping track of everyone
Ilka working her way through catails
Otter tracks

Night Sky

Watch for the Great Conjunction between Jupiter and Saturn in December

Through the summer and into the fall,  Saturn has been chasing Jupiter across  the southern night sky,  inching closer night after night.   Jupiter is about 12 times brighter than Saturn which is just to Jupiter’s east. Approximately every 20 years they are in conjunction, when they pass closely to each other as seen from earth.  On December 21 of this year the two giant gas planets will be separated by only 6.1 arc minutes or approximately 1/10 of a degree. If you have very good eyesight, you will still be able to see the two as separate planets, otherwise they will appear as a single object.  The last time there was a conjunction as close as this was on July 16, 1623. On March 15, 2080 there will be another conjunction of 6 arc minutes.  Take a peek at the sky shortly after sunset – if you wait tooo long the “Christmas Star” will have slipped below the horizon.

As an added bonus, this year the Geminid meteor shower is expected to be the best in years. The shower, which is the result of the burning fragments from asteroid 3200 Phaeton,  began on December 4 and runs until December 17, but peaks on the night of the 13-14 (Sunday night to dawn Monday morning). To top it off the  new moon almost perfectly coincides with the peak of the activity.  Although the shower can be seen  soon after the sun sets, the best viewing will be around 2 am.  The twin stars of Gemini, Castor and Pollux, from where the Geminids radiate are just up and to the left of Orion in the eastern sky.  Meteors in annual showers usually come in bursts, so you need to to be prepared to spend at least an hour looking upward for them.  Lets hope for clear skies!

You also may see a few meteors from a little known meteor shower called the Ursids.  Observers usually will see 5-10 per hour but occasional outbursts have exceeded 25 per hour. The period of activity is from Dec 17 – Dec 26 but the peak is on the same night as the Jupiter-Saturn conjunction.  Look to the north,  between the Little and Big Dippers.  The best viewing is expected to be in the early hours of the 22nd. The first quarter moon will have set by evening, so the night will be dark during the period of best viewing.

This is how the two planets will appear through a small backyard telescopes:  

The Great Conjunction – Final Thoughts

Sunday brought a fair amount of snow, and the snow continued falling through Monday morning, so I wasn’t expecting to be able to view the Great Conjunction of Jupiter and Saturn in the evening. But in the latter part of the afternoon while plowing the road into the cabin the skies suddenly began clearing and I began to think my luck with these “once-in-a-lifetime” celestial events was about to change. But, right on cue, just as I finished, with the sun close to setting, the skies clouded completely over, as quickly as they had cleared only an hour or two earlier.  As much as I tried, I wasn’t able to mentally disperse the clouds, so settled into the sofa and watched the live stream from the Lowell Observatory in Arizona. But, as good as the program was, it just wasn’t the same as being able to see it in person.

While watching the stream I was also messaging with my family out west, and mentioned that Jupiter and Saturn will slowly begin to separate and will remain separated by less than the width of the moon until December 26, but they are also getting closer to the sun, so will disappear sooner in the evening.  By early January they will be too close to the sun to see.  I suggested that if they were patient enough to wait until June 17, 7541 they would be able to see a complete occultation of Jupiter in front of Saturn.  That hasn’t happened since 6457 B.C.

My son asked, why is this such a big deal? Planets always move.  Who cares if they are in the same line of sight.” 

Another member of the family replied, “Well it’s just that they haven’t been this close for I think about 700 years! So, we won’t have a chance to see it again.  For a few generations.”

To which Patrick replied, “Right. It’s like it could take years to roll a six ten times in a row.  I get that it’s rare, I just don’t get why it’s exciting.”

I suggested that “Two days ago the planets were close and two days from now they will still be close, so I get your point. Today they were as close as they get for some time. Great conjunctions of Jupiter and Saturn occur every 20 years but they don’t get quite this close very often.  Why this is so special is a fair question. Maybe you’re just missing a sense of wonder that is hard to explain.”

With hackles slightly raised, he answered, “I do have a sense of wonder but I can easily find two stars that are close and not find that particularly wonderful.  I think astronomers are doing themselves a disservice by calling everything this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity because there will be infinite occurrences in the galaxy, so when you call everything special, nothing becomes special.   Orbiting planets crossing paths may be coincidental but it’s not special.  A solar eclipse is something that is cool.  Maybe a bright giant comet.  But two planets simply following their orbits is not a noteworthy event.”

My response, “The last time these two were this close and far enough away from the sun to be seen was in the 1200’s.  They will be this close again in 2080 but not again for another 400 years.  I find those things noteworthy and I think it makes us feel special to be able to observe something that might not happen again for hundreds or even thousands of years.” 

His response, “But you could look at the spatial relationship between any planets and that same pattern may not occur again for millennia.”

And my reply, “Well, all I can say is you either get it or you don’t.  There is no rationale for it.”

I think that pretty well sums up most people’s thoughts.  It either was a big deal or it wasn’t.  Certainly, you would have to have been a hermit living in a cave not to know this event was happening.  Was it over-hyped?  Probably, and I’ve noticed that this year in particular has seen a similar amount of press leading up to an interesting celestial event.  With the Covid virus making frustrating and tragic news every day since the beginning of year, people need a respite, even if for a few minutes, and these events are something that the entire world can share in, and for a short time forget what is happening around them.  Besides, I think they’re cool even if not everyone does.  And if I were alive in 7541, I’d think that occultation of Jupiter and Saturn would be pretty nifty, too. And others would probably still be saying, “ho hum.”

                                                                                          Great Conjunction of Jupiter and Saturn December 21, 2020   Photos by Fred Pugh

NGC 1499 THE CALIFORNIA NEBULA

Article by Fred Pugh

NGC 1499 is also known as the California Nebula because its shape roughly resembles the state of California. This large emission nebula extends for 2.5 degrees or 5 times the width of the moon and can be found in the constellation Perseus not far from the Pleiades, also known as M45 (figures 1, 2). Perseus is well positioned for viewing in the fall and winter months. NGC 1499 has a magnitude of 6 which would suggest it might be seen with the naked eye but because it’s light is spread over such a large area, it is next to impossible to see with the eye. Some people claim they can see this nebula in binoculars but it is extremely faint and I have never been able to see it. It is however relatively easy to photograph and many have captured it with a DSLR and a 50mm lens mounted on a tracking device. NGC 1499 was discovered in 1884 by E.E. Barnard and was added to the New General Catalogue (NGC) in 1885. The nebula is a molecular cloud consisting mostly of hydrogen and dust and lies at a distance of 1500 light years. The California Nebula is approximately 100 light years from end to end. The red color in the nebula is caused predominately by the florescence of hydrogen atoms that are recombining with electrons that had been stripped away or ionized by very energetic starlight and the more orange areas are where more dust is present with the hydrogen. The star that is responsible for this ionization is called Menkib and is just outside and to the right of the nebula (figure 3). Menkib is a blue giant star that shines 12000 times brighter than our sun.

Figure 1. NGC 1499, The California Nebula is located in the constellation Perseus and is best positioned for viewing during the fall and winter months.
Figure 2. This photo with The California Nebula and The Pleiades in the same field of view was taken with a Canon DSLR and a 50mm lens.

The California nebula is so large that a telescope is not necessary to capture an excellent picture. The photo below (figure 3) was taken with a Canon DSLR and a 135 mm lens mounted on a tracking mount.

I took this photo of the California Nebula on Aug 17, 2020. It was a very warm night and the sky was excellent and was very near the new moon. I prefer to run my camera at a temperature of approximately -25C to keep noise to a minimum but because it was such a warm night I was only able to set it to -16C. Noise did not turn out to be much of a problem in this photo, probably because the sky was so excellent with almost no light pollution. Since the focal length of my telescope is 650mm, the field of view is not nearly wide enough to capture the full extent of this nebula. This photo shows approximately 1/3 of the entire nebula.

Figure 4. NGC 1499 The California Nebula in constellation Perseus, uncropped.

My work flow for creating this photo is as follows:
Telescope – Stellarvue SVA130T 5.1” Apochromatic Refractor
Focal length – 650mm
Focal ratio – f5
Camera – SBIG STF 8300C
Camera Temperature – set to -16C
Mount – Celestron CGEM DX
Light Frames – 15 at 5 minutes each
Dark Frames – 10 at 5 minutes each
Flat Frames – 10 at .01 second each
Dark Flat Frames – 10 at .01 second each
Inspected all light frames for tracking errors, in this case all frames were kept
Converted all frames from RAW to FITS files
Stacked in deepskystacker to reduce noise and enhance signal
Imported into Photoshop to stretch data, smooth remaining noise, enhance color and sharpen

Clear skies

MESSIER 42 The ORION NEBULA

Article by Fred Pugh

The first recorded discovery of the Orion Nebula is generally credited to the French astronomer Nicolas-Claude Fabri de Peiresc on November 26, 1610. Charles Messier added M42 to his catalogue on March 4, 1769. The great nebula resides in the constellation Orion (figure 1) and is best observed in the winter. The angular size is about 60 arc minutes or 2 full moon widths. Shining at magnitude 4, The Orion Nebula is in a class all by itself and can be seen with the naked eye at a dark sky site. With 10 x 50 binoculars or small telescope , this object blossoms into a misty tulip hanging down or I often think it looks like a seagull (Figure 2). Unfortunately you will not see much color in this object with your eyes or even with a telescope, but many including myself see a greenish glow. A camera is needed to record the beautiful colors that are seen in this most photographed object (figure 3).

Figure 1. The circle indicates the position of The Orion Nebula within the constellation Orion. Photo from the internet.
Figure 2. This drawing approximates the appearance of the Orion Nebula through a backyard telescope. Photo from the internet.
Figure 3. The pinkish object just below centre is the Orion Nebula. This long exposure photo was taken with a Nikon DSLR and a 55mm lens mounted on a tracking mount. Photo from the internet.

The Orion Nebula is 1,500 light years away and is one of the closest large stellar nurseries to Earth. It is an emission nebula that is 30 to 40 light years in diameter, containing mostly hydrogen and dust grains and is giving birth to thousands of stars. Within the heart of The Orion Nebula are four young hot stars in the shape of a trapezoid that are approximately 300,000 years old. This trapezium as it is called is easily visible in a backyard telescope (figure 4). One of these stars called Theta 1 C Orionis is 40 times the mass of the sun, has a surface temperature of 40,000 degrees kelvin and shines 210,000 times brighter than the sun. Theta 1 will end its life within the next million years in a massive supernova explosion. These massive young stars along with others that are hidden by dust are responsible for providing the power in the form of ultraviolet radiation, ionizing the hydrogen and causing it to flouresce in a red color.

Figure 4. The four young, hot stars at the heart of The Orion Nebula are known as the trapezium. Photo from the internet.

I took this photo of The Orion Nebula (figure 5) on September 12, 2012. It was a warm night and the sky was beautiful. This is one of my very early photos and was taken with my old Schmidt Cassegrain telescope mounted on an unstable fork mount along with my old Olympus 4/3 mirrorless EPL1 camera. Unfortunately the camera was not designed for this purpose and the sensor got very hot during the long exposures. The night was very warm also which added to the heat problem. This caused the data to be very noisy or grainy. I recently went back to this old data to see if I could improve on the processing and was able to make some minor improvements. There is still a lot of noise visible in this photo which is proof of the importance of collecting good clean data. However it may be used as a guide for what is possible if you attach a DSLR, that is not designed for this type of photography, to a telescope. I have been using a dedicated astronomy camera since 2014 for my astrophotography and have been trying to shoot new photos of The Orion Nebula ever since then. I have a very short window of about 2 weeks each year when I am at my dark sky site, when Orion rises high enough in the sky to photograph. So far I have been skunked by weather, clouds, Northern lights, dew and the Moon which have all tested my patience to the limit. Maybe 2021 will finally be the year for The Orion Nebula.

My work flow for creating this photo is as follows:
Telescope – Celestron Ultima 8 Schmidt Cassegrain
Focal length – 1280mm
Focal ratio – f6.3
Camera – Olympus EPL1 mirrorless 4/3 camera
Camera Temperature – ambient
Mount – Celestron fork mount
Light Frames – 17 at 3 minutes each
Dark Frames – 10 at 3 minutes each
Flat Frames – 10 at .01 second each
Dark Flat Frames – 10 at .01 second eachInspected all frames for tracking errors and other problems, discarded 3 due to bad tracking
Converted all frames from RAW to FITS files
Stacked in deepskystacker to reduce noise and enhance signal
Imported into Photoshop to stretch data, smooth remaining noise, enhance color and sharpen.

Clear skies

Christmas Bird Count

By Henry Miller

December is the month for the annual Christmas Bird Count which therefore made it one of the topics up for discussion at the most recent meeting of the Rainy River Valley Field Naturalists. Ilka Milne, president of the club has once again volunteered to organize the event which is something she has taken on for the past 20 years.

The Annual Christmas Bird Count, North America’s longest-running Citizen Science project started in 1900 with bird counts happening in over 2000 localities throughout the Western Hemisphere. The information collected by the thousands of volunteer participants form one of the world’s largest sets of wildlife survey data which is used by the conservation biologists and naturalists daily to assess both the population trends and the distribution of birds. They are organized at the local level, usually as group efforts, and often by a birding club or naturalist organization.

 Each Christmas Bird Count is conducted on a single day between the time period of December 14 and January 5, with this year’s local count being held Saturday, December 19th. The counts are carried out within a predetermined 24-km diameter circle that stays the same from year to year.  A map on the ‘Birds Canada’ website (and here on our website) shows all the current count circles and their boundaries within our country including the Fort Frances count circle which was established 25 years ago in 1995. Although the local count is organized by the Rainy River Valley Field Naturalists, everyone is invited to help. This year COVID 19 has necessitated a few changes; we will not have the annual Christmas Bird Count wind-up potluck dinner, and the survey groups are restricted to small teams of family members and/or close friends within your own ‘social bubble’. Everybody can also participate as an individual, whether from home by being part of the ‘feeder counters’ and counting the birds that visit your own backyard feeder OR you can volunteer to take on a piece of the count circle by yourself to walk and drive in search of birds. The Rainy River Valley Field Naturalists would really appreciate all help from people on that day, especially those with bird feeders, even if you’re only able to keep an eye on the feeders for part of the day. Should we not be able to do our local count on Saturday December 19th due to inclement weather, the date will be rescheduled and announced on the club website at rrvfn.org. Please email  Ilka Milne (Fort Frances CBC compiler) at boghaunter@yahoo.ca. for more information, and if you’re interested in participating.

Results for the Fort Frances Christmas Bird Count December 19, 2020

The Fort Frances circle of the 121st Christmas Bird Count performed their count on Saturday December 19th. Seven field teams and six feeder watchers made up eighteen participants. Conditions were perfect, with a cool -23C calm and sunny morning with fresh snow having fallen the day before to pique the birds’ appetites for feeder food. With recent warmer than normal weather, moving water still open and thin snow cover we had some late or reluctant migrants.

The field team with highest species diversity (21) was Bob Saunders and Randall Spritt. The feeder watcher with the highest number of unusual species (3) was Susan Taylor, who saw Dark-eyed Juncoes, White-throated Sparrows and a Red-bellied Woodpecker. The tough times mention should go to Henry Miller and Amanda Jacobs, both of whom had the lonely and difficult task of splitting up the huge Burriss area to birdwatch alone due to our social distancing rules. Thank you also to field teams: Ahlan Johanson, Mike Hammond, Tom and Penny Shumaker, Vance and Sallee Dick, Henry Van Ael and Ilka Milne; and feeder watchers: George and Diane Glowasky, Penny and John Pierce, Leanne Donaldson.

Our totals were 28 species and 1627 individuals. Black-capped Chickadees were very close (331) to their all-time high (334) recorded twenty two years ago.  A number of occasionally seen species are likely related to the recent warm weather: Mallard, Dark-eyed Junco and White-throated Sparrow. A frustrating miss was the Pileated Woodpecker. As they visit yards with other species but don’t necessarily stay long near feeders, it is easy for field teams to miss them. This is the 4th time we’ve missed them in our 26 years.  Another kind of miss we experience often is overlooking large flocks. Although we recorded some Snow Buntings on count day none were recorded in town, yet the next day a flock of 300 were seen in the Robert Moore School neighbourhood. We hope to have more town boots on the ground and feeder watchers in coming years to avoid this phenomenon.

The two noteworthy species were Red-bellied Woodpecker and White-winged Crossbills. The Red-bellied Woodpecker is a beautiful medium sized woodpecker very different in appearance and call notes from our native species. A year round resident to the eastern half of the US with a northward limit typically around Minneapolis, this species is slowly expanding its range northward. If you live just north of downtown Fort Frances perhaps you can tempt this visitor with some tasty suet. 

12 White-winged Crossbills are the new high count, up from a previous high of 6 recorded in 2018. These nomadic cone specialists have now been recorded just 3 times in our 26 years. Both species of crossbills (we also may see Red Crossbills) are anticipated to be in higher numbers in our area this winter as we appear to have a bumper crop of White Spruce cones. If you see crossbills feeding and staying in an area for a day or two, or if you see a male singing from a prominent perch, it is possible they are setting up to nest. Keep an eye on spruce stands. In winters of good cone production crossbills may nest in January-February. In a few weeks the 2021-2025 Ontario Breeding Bird Atlas survey starts up, and participating local birders will be very grateful if you let us know about crossbills showing signs of starting a family. You can connect with the Rainy River Valley Field Naturalists on our webpage rrvfn.org.

 

Statistics:

11 party hours and 14.7 km on foot
30.5 party hours and 320 km in vehicle
28 species
1627 birds
18 humans
7 field teams
6 feeder watchers

Common Redpoll

Mallard 29
Common Goldeneye 18
Ruffed Grouse 3
Sharp-tailed Grouse 40
Rock Pigeon 139
Bald Eagle 42
Great Gray Owl 1
Red-bellied Woodpecker 1
Downy Woodpecker 6
Hairy Woodpecker 1
Canada Jay 15
Blue Jay 45
Black-billed Magpie 35
American Crow 103

 

Common Raven 320
Black-capped Chickadee 331
Red-breasted Nuthatch 17
White-breasted Nuthatch 15
European Starling 135
Snow Bunting 50
Dark-eyed Junco 5
White-throated Sparrow 4
Pine Grosbeak 103
Purple Finch 2
White-winged Crossbill 12
Common Redpoll 20
Evening Grosbeak 57
House Sparrow 67

Black-capped Chickadee

Notes: 300 Snow Buntings seen in town next day. Pileated Woodpecker, American Goldfinches and Pine Siskins did not show up to be counted. Bohemian Waxwings and American Robins were hoped for, given good apple crop, but didn’t turn up. A Canada Goose was in area recently, but injured and possibly attacked by Bald Eagle. Red-bellied Woodpecker is north of usual range, currently down town Fort Frances.  This year feeder watches have enjoyed an influx of Pine and Evening Grosbeak. Last year very few were seen and no Pine Grosbeak were observed during the count.

Photos: Susan Taylor- Red-bellied Woodpecker

Bob Saunders- male and female White-winged Crossbills,  White-breasted Nuthatch, Common Goldeneye, male Evening Grosbeak and Pine Grosbeaks, mature Bald Eagle, Blue Jay, Black-capped Chickadee

.

Bald Eagle
White-winged Crossbill (male)
White-winged Crossbill (female)
Red-bellied Woodpecker
Male Pine Grosbeak (male)
Evening Grosbeak (male)
Common Goldeneye (male)
White-breasted Nuthatch
Blue Jay

Rainy River Christmas Bird Count  December 15, 2020

Sharp-tailed Grouse 28
Northern Goshawk   1
Rock Pigeon  22
Great Gray Owl  3
Red-bellied Woodpecker   2 
Downy Woodpecker   4
Hairy Woodpecker   12
Pleated Woodpecker   2
Northern Shrike   1
Canada Jay  4
Blue Jay   75
Black-billed Magpie   14
American Crow  16
Common Raven  16
Black-capped Chickadee  55
Red-breasted Nuthatch  1
European Starling   1
Pine Grosbeak   46
Common Redpoll   5
Evening Grosbeak  36
House Sparrow  18

Total Number 362
Total Species    21

Morson Christmas Bird Count  December 19, 2020 

Rock Pigeon   4
Great Gray Owl   2
Hairy Woodpecker   6
Pileated Woodpecker
Canada Jay   5
Blue Jay   12
Black-billed Magpie   1
American Crow   2
Common Raven   23
Black-capped Chickadee   10
Red-breasted Nuthatch   3
White-breasted Nuthatch   2
Snow Bunting   4
Dark-eyed Junco   5
Pine Grosbeak   13
Common Redpoll   5
Evening Grosbeak   8
House Sparrow  17

Total Number 123
Total Species    18

 

Poetry Corner

                                                  Caroling     Sallee Dick

My boots stand on the rough board bridge, on packed snow. I check my footing. Dark water flows under me, heading for the tumble over smooth, large rocks. Branches overhanging the falls collect a glassy, icy coating, and continually bob in the current, making a clicking, ticking sound. At creek edges, ice ledges begin to form; their progress is slowed by racing water. Sunlight arrives, bouncing from wavelets to tree icicles, dazzling me with its powerful energy.  I am captivated. My senses overflow. Time stops to allow me this moment of wonder. Now, I am aware of the water giggling its way along. Sometimes, in slower ebbs, it chuckles. Sliding around jagged rocks it sizzles. On ice it hisses. Running faster it tinkles, hitting higher notes. It’s singing scales, warming up for the performance. I am a willing audience, waiting for the caroling to begin.

                    Icy water sings

          along rocks, tinkling carols

                  of winter worship.

                   Icy streams quiver

         past rocks, tinkling their carols

                   of comfort and joy.

                        Cold water sizzles

               around rocks, tinkling carols

                            in icy concert.

                  Icy water sings

           around rocks, tinkling carols

                in winter concert.

                                    Haiku #1  Judith Johanson                                                   

                                   Through spring’s gentle snow

                                       birdsong rises to the dawn

                                            crystal notes shatter

                                    Haiku #2    Judith Johanson

                                          Hidden by pale leaves

                            new nests . . .  feather-lined lie soft

                                             awaiting blue gems

Ilka Milne

                                          Paddy Callaghan

                                         Skiing on river

                             Snow glistens under moonlight

                                        Silence all around

                                Winter Phyllis and Dale Callaghan

                                    Gaunt trees, drab days, snow

                                        Redpolls busy at feeders

                                            Frantic squirrels too

     Childhood memories of winters past  Paddy Callaghan

                                          Now I see the snow

                                   Breathing on frozen window

                                                A fine telescope

                                  Hi! Ku For Yu   Bob Saunders

                                Sun breaking through clouds

                             from sadness and loss, a smile

                                    brightens the darkness

                                         Haiku too   Bob Saunders

                                                 Awake and alone

                                   a soft sound from the darkness

                                                “who’s awake, me too”

Wolf   Aaron Wenger

Somewhere and in some time my wolf still howls with the night,
still stalks through the winter,
 and still runs the stars.


Oh my god, still can see yellow eyes, a golden stare at me, through me
along the black granite that we shared
two lifetimes connected and turning to balsam boughs.

Ice and Moonlight:  Aaron Wenger

    Back in the day when we lived on land beside Northwest Bay on the Canada side of Rainy Lake, January and February were favorite months of her and I. We were young and excited by the land and by the life we were trying to make upon it. There was no cold, just good Sorrels.

    Ice started to form out on the bay around the first of October. By American Thanksgiving it was thick enough to play boot hockey, and we usually did with friends who had come up to our log house for a feast. Two-gender sides would be chosen, a rink laid out by drawing lines in the snow with a stick, goals would be formed outta three big sticks, a puck would be tossed down, and mayhem would ensue. Some of us had actual hockey sticks, bout half used brooms. The games always started well, but someone would get tripped, maybe a puck lifted that took a shim or worse, and a bloodletting would be in the making. What kept us all friends, I think, were the dogs. Carolie and I had two Springers that loved to fetch, and often guests had brought others who respected no rules. The puck would be stolen, and the dog pack would tear off with a couple of us chasing. The constant dog chase plus the effects of way too much food and booze would, mercifully, shorten the boot hockey game way down, and we’d all retire to the house for seconds of everything. We were young.

    Bay ice that formed started forming in October would morph into three feet of lake ice along about January. The ice would start to sag and build up stress along shorelines and reef structures out in the lake. These stresses were compressive pressure lines and sooner than later the stress would push up a pressure ridge when the ice fractured along the reef line or shore line. The reef lines were great places to put in a hole for ice fishing, Northerns especially like to cruise the pressure ridges around six feet down. Nothing much better, well a sauna maybe, than sitting alongside a pressure ridge line with a sucker minnow on a hook. Your afternoon entertainment was the booming under your feet as the lake readjusted ice along the ridge. Sometimes you’d get a boomer that would push a bucket of water outta the hole. Fine it was, and fine were the Northern fillets fried in cornmeal later that night. Did I mention that we were young?

    Carolie, boy Jake, and I would couple times a Winter hike or snowshoe down the creek from our home to the bay just to be on the ice under moonlight. Before he could walk enough, Jakie would either ride in a kid pack on my shoulders, or if the snow wasn’t too deep, in a little toboggan I had rigged for him. He almost always fell asleep within ten minutes. This one Winter we took the hike sometime in February under a full moon and in about twenty below weather, but with no wind. Our path led us down the creek half a mile to where it opened out into Northwest Bay. At the creek mouth there’s a rock shelf on the left that goes up maybe thirty feet. Few Jackpines up there, some boulders from the glaciers to sit on, a great place to watch the full moon rise over the bay. We pushed our way up just as the moon rise was happening across the Bay kinda in the east where the bay makes its way into the main part of Rainy Lake. Pretty isolated there, only neighbors the Naicatchewenin band of folk across the bay where the Footprint river flows in through a beautiful set of rapids. Could hear the rapids from about five miles away that night.

    We had watched and listened for a good while, the moon was higher, and a north wind was beginning to pick up. Cold, maybe too cold for the sleeping kid. Kinda getting ready to clamber back down, when I see one of the precious memories left to me. Coming outta the woods, from the North is the pack. I think it was eleven animals, all strung out single-file like well ordered troops. We had the wind, they were traveling down the wind from half mile away, gonna cross the Bay right out in front of us. Well, sort of. The creek you see was part of their hunting ground. Upstream from our house by the creek was a huge beaver pond area that was enclosed on three sides by a ring of ridges, and these ridges were a perfect wintering yard for deer, or a grocery store for the pack. I think it was about a quarter mile north of us when the pack began to trot in a gentle arc toward the creek mouth…and us. What was really special was that as each wolf hit the exact right spot along the arc, his eyes caught the rising moon, and a reflected ray of moonlight glowed green over to us. Each of them, like a switch being thrown, sent along to us green reflected moonlight. Above each of them, extending right down the line of wolves, was a moonlit contrail of expelled breath, a temporary marker of this passing moment, of my passing awe. My Godliness, thanks be given. As this was being given to us, the bay rumbled out one of its best boooommmms I have ever heard, I swear it shook the air we, and them, were breathing together during that magic night.

    They passed the creek mouth to the south and east of us and went on to an alternate route to the beaver area. I wished them good hunting as we backtracked down to the creek with a sleeping boy and home light calling us. Moonlight on ice, and a wolfpack’s green eyes, ah great one-ness, we noticed. 

49 on 49

While researching cross-country skiing locations for the RRVFN website I came across the Rainy River Nordic Ski Club Facebook page, and was intrigued by a virtual event the club held through the month of January, “49 on 49”, that is skiing 49 km on the 49th Parallel, where the club’s trails are located. Without checking further, I assumed this meant skiing 49 km in a single day on any day in January of one’s choosing.  The most of I had done this year was 22 km and I wasn’t certain if I could do 49 km in a day; but several others had done it, so I guessed that skiing on a track-set trail would be much easier than breaking my own trails, which I normally do. Now 49 km is not that big a deal. I regularly skied that distance and longer in my forties and thought nothing of it, and that was breaking my own trail. When I lived in Calgary I skied long distances in Banff and Yoho Parks, starting very early in the morning and skiing until late in the evening the next day, skiing through the night, at times closing my eyes as I skied, fighting the drowsiness and beginning to hallucinate, seeing strange things in the darkness. But that was then.

It was only later after skiing that I learned the distance was meant to be accumulated through the entire month of January, not on one day, but I’m getting ahead of myself. Saturday morning, February 20th, I was up earlier than normal, and was the first one in the parking lot. I signed in, paid the $10 daily use fee, and was ready to go. I was prepared for the day. The cold spell of weather we’ve been “enjoying” was coming to an end today, with temperatures expected to rise to -5C by the afternoon.  When I left the cabin in the morning the temperature was -30C, so I knew I would be changing clothes during the day. I brought an extra shirt and lighter jacket to change into as the day progressed; I had two litres of water and a thermos of tea, and a few snacks. The plan would be to ski the outer circuit of the White Pine, Aspen, and Jack Pine loops, 8.1 km according to the map at the trailhead, which meant I would have to make 6 complete loops and a shorter ski to make the difference. At the end of each circuit I would stop for a quick rest at the parking lot to rehydrate and have a small snack. My skis and boots? Fischer Europa 77’s, a back country ski with metal edges and 3-pin bindings, bamboo poles, and 75 mm Nordic norm leather boots. Not exactly the equipment used today.  The Europa 77 was introduced in 1972 and its fibreglass technology was revolutionary at the time. It was the first fibreglass ski with metal edges. The ones I used are identical to a pair housed in the Canadian Ski Museum in Ottawa.  Those skis were soon replaced by the Europa 99 series, now referred to as E99’s and instead of 3-pin bindings they are now paired with a boot-binding combination that conforms to the ski’s waist, rather than overlapping it. To state it differently, the skis I used are old.

The first circuit went well; the temperature had already risen to -18C when I started, and by the time I finished it was warm enough to remove a sweater.  At the end of the second circuit I switched to a lighter jacket. At the beginning of each circuit I would reset my Fitbit watch my children had given me for Christmas. The watch has GPS functionality and although I have questioned its accuracy it was consistently showing the distance to range from 7.31 to 7.79 km, with an average of 7.61 km for each circuit. This meant I would have to do the circuit seven times just to be certain I had covered the correct distance. When I finally finished there was no one left in the parking lot except for two people preparing to groom the trails. One of them, Jim Krag, had previously recorded the distance of the outside circuit on an app on his phone, 8.43 kms.  This seemed to be a correct distance, as there was flagging marking 8 km about 400 metres from the end of the loop.  So, in the end I most likely skied 59 km. The trail system is well designed  and a joy to ski, especially the second half of the outside loop with its numerous short steep sections and sharp corners.

For the first five loops. I averaged 1 hour 5 minutes, with only a minute or so difference in the time for each loop. The last two loops took 1 hour 10 minutes and 1 hour 12 minutes. I mention these times only as a reference point.  To put this into perspective, by the time I had finished just two circuits Olympic skiers competing in a 50 km race were already home sipping lattes. Through the course of the day several cars arrived and left, but I hardly met anyone on the trail and the ones I did meet were mostly classic skiing, as I was. But I did meet Cam Moorhouse on the trail and another skier closer to my age, Jim Newman, both of whom were skate skiing. They glided up and swept past as if on wings, skiing effortlessly, leaving me behind and disappearing in seconds.  Watching them fly uphill was a revelation. Jim only started skate skiing in his 50’s; he lives nearby and skis almost every day. I marvelled as I watched him fly away.  They would have covered the same distance as I did in half the time. Perhaps its time for a change.  Unfortunately, I live more than 60 km from Rocky Inlet, and that (and the 8th Street trails in Fort Frances) are the closest track-set trails in the neighbourhood, so driving over 120 km every day is not an option.

Was I tired afterward?  In a word, yes. In fact, I have never been so stiff in my life!  Soon after finishing my quads had stiffened so much that I was barely able to walk, and bending over to pick anything up was almost impossible.  I spent the remainder of the evening ensconced on the sofa in front of the fireplace until it was time for bed.  But the next morning the stiffness had mostly disappeared and I was ready to ski again, albeit a shorter and easier 10 kms.  It’s nice to know that after 72 years there still is a bit of gas left in the tank, just not quite as much as there was in my forties.

Rear View Mirror:  2020 A Year to Remember

By Henry Miller

RRVFN managed to participate in many activities during 2020 in spite of Covid 19. It wasn’t a problem to practice physical distancing as the activities were outdoors and in some cases, were performed by a minimum of individuals. A snapshot of the club’s activities follows with the details of our projects and hikes found on our website @ rrvfn.org.

After the cancellation of the Owl Identification workshop, the club proceeded with two projects; tree planting and birdhouse monitoring. The Stewardship council had donated about 1000 trees to us which were planted in the spring. Several of the residents who had requested trees preferred to plant them themselves due to COVID 19, but club volunteers put in the rest at predesignated farms. Two bluebird trails were set up and monitoring revealed that ninety-nine tree swallows and 30 bluebird nestlings were fledged.

Several activities took place in late winter and during the summer. Snowshoeing and cross-country skiing were enjoyed near Northwest Bay in February on a great day of relaxation in the outdoors.

In July a trip to Sable Islands Provincial Nature Reserve on Lake of the Woods was planned to find as many species of dragonflies as possible. But naturalists cannot pass up opportunities to record birds or plants so they recorded other species as well. The highlight of the day was the discovery of a dragonfly which has never been listed in our area before, the Wandering Glider (Pantala flavescens)

The month of August found a small group hiking in the area of Wasaw and Boffin Lakes looking for more birds and dragonflies. They later travelled on to Emo where they gathered the exuviae of dragonflies from the river. One of the exuvia was that of the Arrow Clubtail, another new record for the district. Another hike in September was enjoyed by club members where they walked around Point Park, visited one of the islands by the Causeway, continued on to the Rocky Inlet ski trails in search of different birds and ending the day with a boat trip to an island on Rainy Lake. Overall 32 different species of birds were recorded for the day with the highlight of the day being a flock of Golden Crowned Kinglets observed along the ski trails.

The club has recently agreed to monitor the Oak Grove property for the Nature Conservancy of Canada. Four of our members who journeyed to Lake of the Woods to first check out the area in August, recorded many species of dragonflies and 47 different species of birds along the way.

Why keep records of the different species? The data obtained makes a valuable contribution to our knowledge of the abundance of flora and fauna of our country. Our club is not the only one collecting data, with hundreds of other clubs all over Canada, the US and other countries doing the same thing. Other methods of gathering information include events such as the Feeder Watch, the Spring Owl Survey, and the Christmas Bird Count. Individuals not associated with clubs also contribute to the data collection.

Not everything the club does is fun or exciting. The Peat Moss Interpretive Trail (locally known as the Bog Walk) requires continual maintenance: plant identification signs are put out in the spring and taken down again in the fall, there is always garbage to pick up and grass between the boards to cut, and repairs to the walkway are sometimes needed. Meetings are also necessary to carry out the business end of all clubs. Normally ours are held 3-4 times a year, but this year we’ve had only one since the onset of COVID. The Annual General Meeting was held in September, with just a few masked members in attendance where the Constitution was approved, business items discussed, and an election was held. Interim president Henry Miller announced his retirement; Ilka Milne was then elected president, Mike Hammond – vice president, Henry VanAel – remains as treasurer, and Gaby Emond – stays on as secretary.

All in all, it has been a productive year.

Upcoming Events

Next Meeting:  February 8, 2021 @ 6:30 pm, Alberton Municipal Office
Everyone is invited.  Face masks are required. Postponed TBA
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