Baxter's Hollow (No. 82)

From the DNR Site, "Baxter's Hollow features a scenic gorge cut through Baraboo quartzite by Otter Creek, a fast, clear, nearly undisturbed stream flowing over the large quartzite boulders. Although it supports trout, Otter Creek is better known for its diverse and unique aquatic insect fauna including at least 78 species of caddisfly. Cold air drainage has permitted a white pine dominated forest to persist near the stream. Understory species on the boulder-strewn slopes are large-leaved aster, marginal wood fern, partridgeberry, sweet cicely, witch hazel, and squawroot. Most of the site, though, contains a significant portion of the Big Woods, the largest intact contiguous southern dry-mesic forest in Wisconsin with red and white oak, hickory, and basswood. In spring, the forest floor is blanketed with a wide variety of colorful flowers including spring-beauty, Jacob's-ladder, trillium, hepatica, shooting-star, dog-tooth violet, and marsh marigold. The large expanse of woods provides critical habitat for many rare bird species that require large forested tracts. The combined effects of microclimate and different communities have allowed a wide diversity of species to flourish here: 39 mammals, 92 breeding birds, 13 amphibians, and 18 reptile species. Baxter's Hollow is owned by The Nature Conservancy and was designated a State Natural Area in 1970."

A Night on the Town

My wife & I made plans to go out separately last evening. I wanted to go to a local Chamber of Commerce social event, and she wanted to go with another woman to an art raffle/fundraiser. It turned out they were in the SAME place, the pizzeria at the Grumpy Troll! Even when we try to be apart fate draws us together, which is awesome. I had a few Bloody Maries (olives & pickles included) with little 4oz beer chasers and ate an ENTIRE pizza. This morning my weight was up 6.8 pounds! Oh the sodium... I feel bloated... belch...

Sutras of the Past

As I walked in circles around the Stupa allowing my thoughts to percolate an icy winter wind fluttered the colorful prayer flags draped on lines around it. As memories of my past, both good & bad, rose up in my head the little flags of prayer reached out, caressing my arm just as old friends would when comforting me. Such peace from so simple an act from an in animate object. Have I truly gone so long without feeling such affections that simple, colorful bits of fabric bring me solace or have I become blind to the affections I receive daily from those close to me, making this sensation seem unique? A bit of both perhaps?

Prairie Moraine County Park

It was a perfect wintry day to go for a quick walk along the trails of the prairie. While there was a bit of a blizzard going on, the temperature wasn't overly too cold.

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King of Tokyo

Sunday morning we broke out King of Tokyo. It's been months since we've played. The kid is getting pretty good at playing a strategy instead of just bashing us around. Her card choices where really good, and I have to admit she won fare and square. This game is so fun!

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Me - 1990

Channeling my inner sea captain phase I guess? All I can really tell you is that it was my first year after art school. I'd been working a variety of jobs and had recently begun full time at a set construction shop, which we created for television, movies, stage and trade-shows. I'd just bought my first Jeep and my girlfriend was overseas, teaching in Japan for the year. The personal theme song for the year was The Ramblin' Rover, Andy M. Stewart & Silly Wizard. Everything was an adventure!

"If you're bent wi' arth-i-ritis
Your bowels have got colitis
You've gallopin' with bollockitis
And you're thinkin' it's time you died
If you been a man of action
Though you're lying there in traction
You will get some satisfaction
Thinkin', "Jesus, at least I tried!"

"Steelhead" by John Pahlas

Bourbon steelhead

tempered steelheads migrating through the
shallows, their metallic scales lubricated
with penzoil two stroke motor oil.


moving over sand and rocks
some gray, some brown,
some smooth, some jagged and torn.


with alloys glistening in the summer heat
they brush up against the rivers stones to break
off the fishermens disappointment.


all those scarred gums whose fishhooked
lines caused thier lead bellies to rust.


in the muddy waters they stir,
drink to much whiskey and sink to the
river bars sandy bottom.


their rigid frames drifting through the sediment,
with heads lowered swaying
slowly like submariner zeppelins, trying to
navigate against the turbulent waters.


now these mechanical nomadic sailors keep for
themselves a tin compass in the sky filled with
memories of home.


but still they are mellow preachers
rolling and tumbling in their hardened
elements trying to find their way.

Poem by Nathan Martin