You might cross paths with all
manner of beasties while in the Northwoods; from Pileated Woodpeckers to porcupine, from cougar to glow
worm, from beaver to bear and a host of creatures between.
The rim of forest around Superior
remains a last refuge for other nations fallen before Manifest Destiny’s march
to glory. Though some now exist only in
memory, critters like raccoons & coyotes emigrated to our cities and today prosper
on bountiful refuse. Others tentatively
return to their former range as wildness fills in scars left by mining and
logging. Some species managed to hang on
in spite of us, deep in the woods, keeping well out of our way and passing life
much the same as since they first claimed their niche in the wild.
Encounters between man and beast
are often frightening and occasionally dangerous.
Though civilization may have bred
from us the habit of engaging animals on mutual terms instead of strictly our
own, the owl still bewitches through its power of observation, the bear
intimidates with indomitable character and the wolf employs native intelligence
to survive centuries of slaughter waged against it because while we’re often
unknowing and fearful, the wolf is rarely so.
Wander the wilds of Superior long
enough and there’s no surprise left at peoples presumptions. Disneyland it’s
not, though some folk seem to think it is.
In full dark, I once heard a lady
at a neighboring campsite exclaim, “Look!
He’s just like a kitty!” as she hand fed bread into the toothy mouth of
a fully potent, rabies vulnerable skunk come to beg.
Encounters between people &
wildlife are likely not so different now than they’ve been for ages, which is
to say they remain unpredictable. Critters aren’t much changed. We are.
And sometimes, there’s the rub…
Taken from a vintage 35mm transparency
It was a crisp blue morning at the
edge of Superior.
Cool and breezy, the air stung
with freshness. We’d finished breakfast
and cleaned up, a perfect time to take a seat.
A couple of yards beyond our tent, the land pitched near to straight
down maybe a hundred feet or more to meet the shore of the freshwater sea with
only eroding earth between. I sat
comfortably at camp and looked out over the water from sublime vantage.
Chipmunks crisscrossed the worst
of the precipice, small enough to hustle about on sure trails where we’d find
only the most treacherous footing. They
darted through camp and raided each promising spot to claim some piece of
valuable scrap we didn’t even know we’d missed.
They’re shameless beggars and sometimes come right up to you, looking
for a handout then streaking away should anything suddenly startle.
We keep a clean camp and don't
'feed the animals' but this is a battle well and fully lost, so we routinely
carry unsalted nuts for these little friends.
They fill their cheeks until puffed like furry balloons, then run off to
secure their treasure for some later hour of need.
Taken from a vintage 35mm transparency
I was lost in reverie when a
short movement at the edge of the cliff caught my attention. I focused on the spot as a creature’s nose
cautiously peeked above the rim.
I’ve never seen a healthier rat.
This was no over-bred clump of
whiteness living for rat chow and the lab technician’s knife. Neither was it the black scourge of history,
stealthy and disease ridden, stealing the plague and darkness into our lives.
Instead, this little critter was alert as a bird and clean as a housecat. It's hair almost yellow, the rat’s bright
pink nose wrinkled with the brisk air to send shivers down its whiskers as it
read the breeze.
Rats scared me as a boy because
I’d had my share of surprise encounters with vile looking and aggressive rodents. I sat very still.
The rat was fully engaged and
soon relaxed, as I posed it no threat.
It sat up on its hindquarters and carefully cleaned itself, taking due
diligence to assure its smooth fur was immaculate. It glistened in the morning sun. I watched the little fellow’s tongue and paws
work every inch of its plump body. After
a while, the rat turned its back to me and disappeared back down the hill.
I should have known. I did know and was still surprised.
What’s true is that there’s nothing
intrinsically evil or unwholesome about any species of living being. It is what
it is and all that it is remains well outside those reductions of philosophical
convenience we apply to it. Whatever
moral or esthetic character we choose to ascribe to animals is simply us
looking at the world through a narrow prism of vanity and finding only our own
pallid reflection.
I supposed I knew the rat. I’d thought it a scurrying, nasty beast with
gleaming red eyes and fierce disposition.
I’d bought in to human nightmare.
