Beyond the Power Grid

One of our favorite things to do when we are at our Wisconsin Airstream retreat is to take a particular drive that brings us to a remote canoe-in campsite on the Flambeau River. Much of the land up in these parts is owned by Jump River Electric Co-p and bordering that is a lot of state-managed forest land. We've done this drive in all seasons.

I feel an immediate difference once we pass beyond the power grid. That electric buzz is no longer there, instead there is the buzz and energy of all those living things in the forest.



The roadway starts to get darker as the forest gets more dense.



The majesty of this place is only broken every once in a while when we encounter road signs that are pock-marked with bullet holes.



This road seems to go on for miles. In the winter we chase turkeys. Winter logging seems almost unnoticeable by the time spring rolls in. In the spring, we splash through the puddles left by the melting snow. In the summer we keep an eye out on the raspberry patches and the blackberry bushes waiting for that day when they will be ripe enough to pick. No matter what season it is, we are always on the lookout for wildlife.



We discovered this remote forest road one day just be turning off the main paved road onto a gravel one that seemed interesting. We followed it until we could go no further. I miss those days when we didn't know the region so well, when every turn seem to take us towards a new adventure.



I was writing my dissertation back then, thinking this very same thing about life, thinking that every corner would bring a new adventure. Bob Marley would be on constantly on our car stereo and I would think some truths about life would surprise me as we drove along, trying to take notes of these thoughts that I would later want to incorporate into my dissertation about Marley and the role of his music in social movements.



I sure was surprised when we turned this corner and came upon this space, this garden, beyond the power grid, beyond miles and miles of dense woodlands. Dang! I was starting to think I had manifested this reality out those intense dissertation meditations on the road.



Last week, when we went on this drive, with the Baby Lotus Bud in the back of the Jeep, I tried to meditate upon all that had changed in our lives. I hope I have passed that phase in my life when there no longer seem to be any surprises waiting around the corner. Because what sort of life would that be without those surprises? Boring, I'm sure. Mundane, jaded, uninspiring. Seeing this Rasta Garden again jarred something in me that had laid dormant for a few years. What that is, I don't know. And, that's good.