I visited Mille Lacs-Kathio State Park for the first time, this father's day with my dad and little brother. It was a struggle getting my little brother to go along, but I think that he might have actually enjoyed the forest. I handed my camera over to him while we wandered a trail, and he was able to explore. I certainly enjoyed having him around, and I am sure my dad did as well. I hope that he will learn respect and wonder for the forests and lands that he encounters.

There's also a fire tower at this park, which we climbed. The view of the oak and maple tree tops is beautiful, and the feeling of being in a fire tower was very nostalgic and reminiscent of late last summer. I will have to write down my experience spending the night in a Cloquet tower last summer. I will never forget the feel of the free wind above the treetops, whether it coasts past maple leaves or thin pine needles. The state park is very near to Rum River* State Forest. We walked a trail that led to the riverside, and it is a truly beautiful area. I hope to return. 

*The Rum River should be known instead as the Spirit River. 'Rum' is a European misinterpretation of Dakota.

I've been growing some Mimosa pudica seedlings for the past two weeks. I worked with them in my Plant Physiology course, and so I couldn't help but order a packet of seeds and plant my own. If you've never heard of the mimosa plant, you might know it's more common name -- the touch sensitive plant. Even when it is a few days old, its first leaves are able to move when stimulated by touch. When I planted these with my lab group, we only soaked the seeds for 24 hours before planting, and so we had a low germination rate. I've since learned that it is best to bring water to a boil, then place the seeds in the boiling water and let this sit (as it cools to room temp) for 24-36 hours. I had a much more successful germination rate (at least 80%), using this method. Even more exciting, the seeds began to germinate in the water after 24 hours. They are growing relatively quickly now, and all have their first set of true leaves (and of course, can move!). There are presently about 6 seedlings, and I'm excited to watch them grow!

I also realized recently that I've always known the Japanese word for this lovely plant -- I just never put two and two together! The shy or bashful plant (含羞草/おじぎそう). Ojigi also means 'bowing; bow', although that meaning uses different kanji. 

Earlier in the semester, I submitted my historical research paper "Conservation, Naturschutz, and Environmental Policy in Nazi Germany"  -- written for my fall semester Holocaust and History course -- to the St. Olaf history department Rowberg Essay Contest. I was extremely excited and honored to learn that my essay won 1st place. I was very proud of the work that went into this essay, and enjoyed the research process for it, because I entered an area, and a topic, which answered a question I was not only personally interested in, but also which I initially knew very little about. It is wonderful to hear some of the feedback that I have gotten on the essay, and I would like, when time permits, to delve deeper into researching the topic because there is much more to learn.

I have finally accepted that spring is here -- but I always feel a sense of separation and sadness at the end of winter. The departure of the cold of winter has a similar feeling, to me, as that of moving out of a long-held room, or the dismantling of an exhibition of art. It is very easy to appreciate warmer, spring and summer weather. It is much harder, but worthwhile, to appreciate winter's chill; the winter is a time of balance, of subtleties, of delicacy, as well as harshness. Still, the first scent of mud in the sun never fails to send some measure of exhilaration through me, not unlike that of the first biting breeze.

I anticipate the rustle of leaves.

[EDIT 4/16] No sooner did I write this then there was a 1-3 inch snowfall in Northfield, with flurries about southern MN. It was a wonderful treat.
[EDIT 4/20] It is snowing again! 

Some of my writing on Nerstrand can be read in BIOMASS, St. Olaf's online Biology newsletter, in the January issue under the title "The Winter Face." Additionally, read about the extratropical hurricane in the November issue, titled "Out Like A Hurricane." And check out the other articles, too!

After a morning track practice, I visited the local state park. I have been there once before, in the early fall and wished to see its face in winter. There are small falls less than a half mile hike from the station. In warmer weather, the stream cascades like a curtain over a limestone wall. The sandstone underneath erodes away, eventually degrading the integrity of the limestone above it, which breaks off to form an vertical cut. Like the Minnehaha falls, they were frozen, but water continued to move underneath. Besides this trail, the northern section of the park was closed to hikers -- the trails have been groomed for skiers. The southern section, meanwhile, has been groomed for snowmobiles and makes a smooth path for those on foot. A small stretch was reserved for hikers and snowshoers, and the footing there was rough, and brushed by sinkholes. It was in the lower teens, perhaps 10 degrees today, and I wore many layers. The cold remained with me afterwards.

     The trees, many of them tall and long-standing, were like spears in the snow. I went just after midday, and I appreciated the sun hanging in its descending gait, peeking through the boughs at my progress. Overall, however, the light in winter appears always coldy clear, yet somehow lessened. The shadows spread far, and followed the contours of their canvas. Although we experienced brief above-freezing temperatures, there remains considerable snow on the ground; it was laid out like an unbroken blanket, rolling, and smoothing the forest floor. There were numerous lines of animal tracks, dotting across its surface -- squirrels, it would seem, deer, and perhaps fox (judging by droppings). The snow betrays their paths, and I wondered at their goals as they left them. I found many small, sheltered niches beneath fallen trees, with scant dirt patches, and often the remains of acorns. The distribution of deer tracks was curious -- for stretches there would be only lonely strings, and yet at other places the snow was littered with dense patches of prints.  I saw only one deer itself, a dark grayish sort, and somewhat weighty as it bounded away on the other side of a fence of trunks. I also saw a large wood pecker, high up and thudding away on the lonely length of a tree. It was quiet, and the sound of its work echoed, and responded. The crunch of the snow was loud under my boots, but should I stop, I could hear the trickle of a stream, or the crack of wood above. There was one pair of snow mobilers about. I encountered them once, and the challenge of their motors resounded overpoweringly -- and alien. In fact, it unnerved me, in the same way, I can only imagine, the inhabitants are unnerved by something so contrasting. Towards the end, I began to succumb to the cold, my fingers especially, and so I picked up the pace. Nevertheless, I completed the +four mile loop, starting close to 2 and emerging some hour and a half later. I wished, as I went, that I had skis so that I would not intrude so noisily over the snow. But I was glad, nonetheless, for the stillness -- and the activity that is only hinted.

Today I encountered a disheartening opinion. It begins with a topic which has grown in frustration for me, before turning to the disheartening matter itself. Speaking with a fellow student worker, the subject came up that I do not eat meat. I was asked why (as usual). Personally, I have a number of reasons, which I grow tired of defending. I do not ask those who consume meat the reasons for that decision, or to justify themselves -- despite the fact that the consumption of meat is in fact far more unsustainable and in any case, it is worthwhile no matter what you eat to understand why you do so. Yet I find continuously that I must justify myself. My honest response in these cases would be that I feel I should not need to justify myself. I have made a decision, one that was guided by deep thought and consideration regarding all the advantages and disadvantages. It is a decision that I stand by. Thus, I fail to see how it is acceptable to ask me, as a vegetarian, why I do not eat meat, when at the same time it is unacceptable, even intrusive, to ask a smoker why they smoke -- regardless that the smoker harms themselves, and those around them. Meanwhile, I am making a conscious, educated decision to go without a foodstuff that is for me unnecessary, and come to judgment.

That answer, of course, is not the one I provide in response to inquiry. Although I find it irritating, the inevitable response of 'why?' 'how come?' or 'what made you decide that?' to the devulging of my eating preferences, -- that is, when I am cast beneath a disapproving eye for such a decision -- I do not begrudge those who ask with genuine curiosity; I am happy to answer their questions. And to them, I say this. Firstly, meat is not a necessary part of my common diet. In other words, I can find other sources of protein, iron, and other nutrients. When I was younger, I never sought meat overmuch, and so found it natural to quit it as I came under control of my own. Certainly, meat is a powerful energy source, and one that can be useful to the human diet. I would be a fool to say otherwise. It has its uses, and there are undoubtedly people for whom it is advisable to consume. But for me personally, it is not the only option. Not eating meat means that I must be conscious of my choices, and insure that I am consuming all that my body needs to function well, and healthily without meat, yet so long as I am capable I choose to go without it. Secondly, it is not environmentally sound, or morally sound, for me to continue consuming something that I do not need, and that is not sustainable. Methane emissions from beef production -- and dairy -- as well as the negative impacts of massive numbers livestock  for other meats (pigs, fowl, etc.) are a serious problem facing our future, and I do not wish to contribute to that demand. That being said, if all meat was hunted sustainably, if meat was produced locally at small scales, and garnered in a manner that was uncruel and used responsibly, I would find it difficult to object to meat consumption. Moderation is key. After all, carnivorousness is a common strategy for other animals. Yet the fact remains: for those animals, there is no other option -- the wolf's strategy in life requires prey; my strategy in life does not. It may be time to pose the question instead 'why do you eat meat?' I know my reasons; do you know yours?

And now we approach the disheartening matter itself. Many have contended my environmental reasons for not eating meat; often the argument's of my opponents are ones that I have considered, myself. The production of soybeans, for example, is just as environmentally irresponsible as meat when performed on a large scale monoculture, with herbicides and pesticides, yet is a staple for many vegetarians. However, you cannot replace meat solely by tofu, and secondly, here again I call upon moderation. Replacing meat with tofu is not a solution, and should not be used to contend me. Today, my fellow student worker disagreed with my environmental motivations, but I was dismayed to learn that it was not for the reason I anticipated. Apparently, climate change is a farce -- a scheme whereby environmentalists aim to make a profit. Clearly, he told me when I objected, Al Gore is making millions from the endeavor. Al Gore aside, it has been a long time since I encountered such an opinion. I had hoped that, at a place of learning, my fellow students would take it upon themselves to investigate the truth of all matters. If this student had done so, he would quickly learn that, for those truly concerned for our world, a personal profit should be far from their goals. This is indeed the case. To be dirt poor, and yet see the environmental soundness of this planet, I would be forever content. Climate change is a very real thing, and although there have been natural fluctuations in the history of the planet, it is undeniable that this change in atmospheric composition stems from our industrial activity. I had no other answer to him, other than this: seek truths, before you accept heresay. See for yourself, and the truth is obvious. I have done the research, I have seen -- and participated -- in the science. But you do not need to be a scientist to read a graph, nor to understand that, climate change or not, our society is unsustainable and ultimately damaging. A change must be made. Fossil fuels are not the option, and we must take responsibility, however challenging, frightening, or uncomfortable the weight of that responsibility may be. Delude yourself at the expense of yourself, not at the expense of the planet.