Michigan Forest Life - September 21, 2025

Good afternoon, friends,

I lean back in an Amish rocker on the Bunkee's porch, listening to rain on the Bunkee's metal

roof and on leaves in the surrounding forest (Photos 1 and 2). It is rain well needed; rain that lasted much of the night; a rain that could last for most of today. 

The trees whisper, "Thank you," and sigh with relief.

I picture them drawing long gulps through each root tentacle, sucking the water up to leaves hanging from each twig. 

"Now our leaves can show their real fall color," the trees shake its limbs. "They won't just dry out, turn brown, and fall off." 

The trees are happy.

I am taking a break. 

Crows call each other in the treetops. They are anxious to shake the water off their feathers.

I drink coffee from a cup on the side table next to the Amish rocker. Songbirds sing too, though their voices seem timid against rain sounds. A sandhill crane whistles with perfect vibrato. I want to applaud, but other birds enthusiastically chip their "Bravo!"

Yesterday, the forest was full of humans. Visitors. A family reunion. Twenty-seven humans in all. They sat by a campfire, retreated to a tent during a brief rain, and explored the trails.

"What are these humans doing in the forest?" A fox squirrel wondered as it gathered acorns for the winter. "Listen to them laugh. They all look the same to me," the squirrel chattered to its mate as one group of humans walked by. 

"So many Ellenses," the mate chattered back, hoping the humans might hear. "I doubt these humans can tell one fox squirrel from another."

"Well, we need to make allowances for humans." Chatter. Chatter.

Back at the Treehouse, the winter firewood stack is now in place. Five rows - four feet tall,

twelve feet long. The stack needs a new tarp this year (Photo 3). I always feel a sense of relief when firewood work is complete in the fall. Life is good! 

I wish you rain after a dry spell, and a cozy place to wait out the rain.

Until next time,

Dan