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There is a short window during the Spring when nothing is actually growing but the snow and snirt are gone. Couple this with the view from the train back to the Pissoir, where in order to restore the wetlands around the Zion nuclear power plant, non native trees were being cut down leaving a field, and a student’s waxing cynical on Spring – out to find rebirth and finding, in essence junk, I took Ubirajara out for a wander.

It was an attempt to control the “hyper” in me by making snaps of all the things that I keep meaning to do but instead head to the darkroom to make pixtures – a rediscovered ball park in ruins just over the Wisconsin border that I remember being part of a bar. Newly discovered as land in front was cleared for possible sale.

I wanted to get to the hidden ATV track.

This should have been done ages ago as from the train I see on the lake side the marshes and the flats out to the water. On the inhabited side there are, paint ball areas, places where people drive their ATV’s, abandoned tree houses and tyres. Both places are pretty inaccessible as the natural part is protected by the park, the unnatural by private property unless one can find the area to cross the tracks. When is it it still light out I see how I can get close enough to cross over into these areas. There are abandoned roads, I have seen people walking…

This is the time of year where they control burn the prairie, some years it has been pretty nerve racking for the houses nearby as the control seemed to be lacking this year there was no sign of that.

I was hoping for a lot of ground water making reflections that would add to the strange selective clear cutting of the trees in the water and hoping that the white of the trunks would play off the dark of the water.

This is the time of year where one has to watch where one walks. It is mainly trying to cross the puddles on the path, but there are other surprises – the first snake of the year sunning itself in a dry spot, a carpet of fur without the animal who used to use it, the odd skeleton.

The only ones out were those who were doing the culling of the trees. In the near distance there were bonfires and backhoes.

Wanted to make a circular walk but found myself stopped by the groundwater that while flowing was still more of a lake than a puddle. Crossed the tracks into Winthrop Harbour where people worrying about their property wouldn’t allow the beer bottles and fritos bags that seem to appear as the first harbingers of the season.