Observations from the last few days...

Just got back from doing some renovation to a town home my wife and I own in Minneapolis. We are trying to get it ready to put on the market in June. Lots of work to be done on a place that one has lived in for over 20 years. Especially when one is told by the real estate agent that the whole house needs to be redecorated as the present decor is passe. Personally, if the house is sound, has indoor plumbing, and electrical service then it should be ready for the market after a reasonably adequate interior and exterior paint job. If one is a real estate agent, which is another name for salesperson, then that means that they will actually do something to sell it, and not, as they say, have the home sell itself. I don't know, but that just makes sense. Besides, this is a perfect starter home located in a safe and clean neighborhood, close to both grade and high schools. Oh, well, we do as we are told.

Anyhow, I returned home to our place in the Chequamegon National Forest on last Thursday evening and spent Friday doing spring maintenance. The Forest Service and State Department of Natural Resources has listed the fire danger as beyond extreme to that level where all obese people are prohibited from wearing corduroy pants and taking long walks. A couple of years ago we had the same conditions about this time of year and a fire started some three miles east of us burning through the other side of our little lake finally stopping at the banks of the Namekagon River just little over a mile from our home. It was interesting to watch the fire suppression chopper dipping this huge water bucket (well, that is what it looked like!) into our lake and dumping it on the advancing front of the fire. I was wondering just how many fish got caught up in the bucket. That would certainly make for a really bad day. Going from peacefully swimming, minding your own business, to plummeting into the fires of hell.

The weasel is back, picking off the unwary mice that frequent the area below my wife's numerous bird feeders. I watched it on Friday morning dispatching mice with a ruthless efficiency killing 4 mice within less than 10 minutes just feet away from where I was raking leaves. Since weasels are one of the few species that kill even when not hungry, I use the anthropomorphic term "ruthless" to describe its obvious concentration on its efforts and not as to its "motive." I have watched this behavior before and find it just as fascinating each time. The rock wall adjacent to where I was working apparently housed numerous mouse nests as each time the weasel entered somewhere different in the wall out it would pop (no pun intended) from another location with an adult mouse in its mouth. I am hoping that the weasel, along with the Barred Owl (at least I think it is a Barred Owl) that frequents our little forest at night, will serve sufficient to keep the mouse population somewhat under control.

When I took a walk on our beach with our golden, Maggie, later on Friday morning, I watched as a mallard pair flew just over Maggie's head as she stood in the water up to her chest. The mallards landed some 30 to 35 feet away from Maggie and then did something unusual. They swam directly up to the dog stopping about 10 feet away and remained there as Maggie stood intently staring at them. When Maggie stepped toward the ducks, ever so slowly, the ducks would swim out maintaining their distance, but not appearing flustered or frightened. I called Maggie out of the lake and the dog and I continued our walk along the shore. Sure enough, the mallard pair followed remaining about 10 feet off shore. When the dog ran at them into the lake, they just jumped up and flew a few yards further out, landed, and, again, swam directly toward the dog. I sat down in a chair on the beach and watched this "cat and mouse" game go on for some time. Finally, the dog and I left the beach, but the mallards remained behind, cruising the shoreline back and forth just in front of our house as if waiting for Maggie's return. I found it interesting, however, that when I stepped into the lake (yes, it was invigorating to say the least) the mallards furiously swam away from me out to about the distance where they had originally landed.

Stood out on the rocky point last night and watched the walleye spawning. It wasn't as busy as it was earlier in the week. I think the spawn is just about finished.

Heard the wolves howling last night. Reminds me so much of northwestern Montana near Whitefish. They sounded pretty close, just across the lake from us. I was out walking the dog for one last time before bed. She perked up her ears and then ran for the back porch. She was anxiously waiting at the backdoor whining while I slowly walked back to the house listening to the chorus of howls.

I realize there isn't a whole lot about trout fishing in this post, but I did spend some time late on Friday evening tying some Royal Coachman flies using some different colors for the abdomen, such as bright yellow, bright green, bright blue. Don't know as if I can still call them Royal Coachman flies. My wife thought the blues ones would make good earrings.