October 2020: Some Welcomed Familiarity

October was so refreshing because it ushered in at least a sense of relative normalcy. Roy was able to join his wife for the better part of a month of quiet in Michigan's north woods (chasing grouse and NOT spraying flowering rush), and my family and the lease holders stayed gleefully occupied back home either chasing ducks or thinking about chasing ducks (my area of expertise, particularly since having children). 

My nephew Josh, who shot his first duck at Standing Rush six seasons ago now (somehow), is now a senior in high school -- and still a deadeye with a shotgun. Great kid; great sunset!

Pre-hunt tailgate shot of my three boys (a tradition) just before striking out for the blind for their first hunt of the season -- and mine. My oldest shouldered a gun, and the little guys blew feverishly on calls. I missed ducks, but fortunately settled down and shot a few, too.

Comfortably blinded at 18:
We had good activity and decent shooting each time we went out. But more importantly, we laughed and smiled A LOT. My guys seem to be cut from a very similar cloth; they are "bit by the bug" and want to be outside whenever they can be.

The thrill of a pass was never lost on these three, and what I love most is they spend as much time admiring a bird after the retrieve as they do when they're on the wing.

Woodies were plentiful, but the diversity was there.

My nephew and brother got out a half-dozen times together, despite crazy, hectic lives.

My brother snuck away for a solo birthday hunt -- with his son solo in an adjacent blind;
not a bad birthday bag, especially considering he didn't have a dog.

I've said it before and I'll say it again: Sunrise and sunset on the marsh are spiritual experiences.
These are memories none of us will forget.

Not Just Mentors, Salt of the Earth Good Folks

Ready for a tour with my aunt and uncle; call it a "bucket list" day for all of us!

A week ago this morning, I had the unique privilege to spend the better part of an entire day with a couple that I've admired all my life. My Uncle Dick and Aunt Fran raised their six children on the east side of a shared side yard. Their home is just down the bank of "Cat's Ass Lake" -- on the family farm where my parents built a home and raised the eight of us. This is the setting where my awareness of and passion for the outdoors first germinated. Deep roots were set there to support a lifetime of love for the natural world.

Adjectives like hardworking, passionate, focused, dedicated, tireless, philanthropic, and community-minded are all part of Dick and Fran's public identities . . . as individuals, as a couple, as parents, and as leaders in northwest Ohio and beyond. I can certainly vouch for all of these descriptors as accurate. But I might also add words like: humble, earthy, humorous, genuine, loving, and authentic. Bottom line: these are solid folks, and I've always felt honored to be in their presence.

I worked for and more importantly with my Uncle Dick through high school and into the first couple years of college, when I transitioned into seasonal work for the family business that he was leading as CEO. We poured building foundations, fenced pasture, shingled roofs, installed irrigation lines, rebuilt docks, stoned patios, planted countless trees and plants . . . the list goes on and on -- and this was all on their property and/or the family farm. It was all designed and orchestrated by my uncle. He showed me how. And we did it shoulder to shoulder, whenever he could be available.

Here I am on our beach at about age 7 with my brother;
I'm holding a bass that Uncle Dick stocked into our lake
(and that I probably caught a dozen times)

I obviously have learned a tremendous amount from Uncle Dick. And as I've gotten older, I've come to realize that while our interactions were of course different, I've learned plenty from my aunt as well. (She did introduce me to my wife, after all!) It's for this reason that I will truly cherish the opportunity I had last week. At no other time in my life have I had such dedicated time (without a nail apron at least). I picked them up at their home at 8:00AM, sharp (punctuality was a lesson), enjoyed an hour of drive time introducing our project, toured them around both the East and West marshes -- dodging lingering raindrops on the east side in my truck only to have the temperature moderate and the day evolve into a pleasant driving tour on the Mule on the West. They then treated me to lunch (of course) before we headed for home. The simple and easy conversation of the drive back (while Aunt Fran snuck in a few short naps in the back seat) was another highlight.

In the end, Uncle Dick and Aunt Fran were characteristically engaged and enthusiastic. On top of all Dick's lifetime of accomplishments, he and his brothers spent more than their fair share of time in a duck blind. He appreciated the tour with that context, but I think both of them enjoyed it for the wildlife, beauty, peacefulness, and overall breadth of our mission. Now flirting with his late 80s, Uncle Dick joked with me that visiting Standing Rush "someday" had become something that he put on his "bucket list." For me, having the two of them to myself for the day -- to show some of the results of their lessons being lived out through my work -- was just as satisfying.

P.S. I hope to add additional images from our tour at some point. They took some additional photos with their camera, but I was apparently too busy tour guiding! Appropriately, I think they marked the 299th and 300th visitor (family, friend, restoration partner, hunter, interested party) whom we've toured over the last 2.5 years. These numbers may be off by a few. I wasn't keeping good records early on. I have to commit to keeping a guest book. As with visits like the one above, it will be fun to look back.

Family, Photography & Videography

Despite the fact that there is currently snow falling from the sky, I know it's only a matter of time before we transition into migrating warblers, more amphibians, fish sampling, turtle trapping, plant identification, and more. Browns and grays (and yes, whites) are going to transition to greens and blues soon enough. So I need to give the spring ducks a little more air time.

One of the unexpected and really enjoyable aspects of this project thus far has been the number of family members -- immediate and extended -- who have carved out some time to come pay us a visit. Recently, a second cousin (cousin's son) dropped in for his second visit . . . this time, wielding a pretty awesome camera and the knowledge of how to use it. Deke is just finishing up school in Vermont and is trying to decide if/how he could scratch the environmental itch professionally. Like so many of us, his course work has lead him down an exploratory path, but now he's reaching the proverbial fork in the road. What's next?

Photography and videography are a related passion for Deke, and we were the beneficiaries a couple weeks back. I just got the raw footage. While he was with me I got to spend a couple hours trying to gently corral migrating ducks -- mainly shovelers, pintails, widgeon, and teal -- toward Deke and his camera, as he juggled ever-changing light and Phragmites in the face. The footage above was taken as I was regrouping in our 4-wheeler. What I thought was going to be the least interesting footage turned out to be some of the most compelling -- other than maybe some close-ups that I'll hopefully get to share later. For a first effort though, we did pretty well. I'm hoping it's not our last field day together, whether we're looking through a lens or not.
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P.S. One of the opportunities we see for this place ties directly to nature photography. Over the last 20+ years, I have been fortunate enough to get to know renowned photographer, journalist, and instructor Art Weber as a mentor and friend. For those of you who don't know Art, he is a ridiculously fun and humble talent who not only spent the majority of his career with the Metroparks of Toledo, but he also blessed our community with the National Center for Nature Photography at Secor Metropark. For those in the area who don't yet know this hidden gem, do yourself a favor and check it out. Exhibits are always changing and always awesome!

At any rate, Art sees tremendous opportunity for Standing Rush because we have both the scale and the solitude to offer something meaningful. We're large enough at ~600 acres (1) not only to draw unique and consistent wildlife but also (2) to offer a buffer from the outside world. You might think the highways bisecting our property in both directions would be a hindrance. While they certainly cut both ways, you'd be amazed how easily they are tuned out -- by people and wildlife. And unlike the national refuges and state wildlife areas, we can offer a photographer good chances to see something cool at close range without the risk of being busted by an unsuspecting birdwatcher or hiker with her dog. We hope that we can add photography clinics to our growing list of activities in 2017.