A walk in the woods with Mike ~ December 8, 1994

David Heiller

Mike was working on his 1970 Polaris snowmobile when we drove up Saturday morning. He was using a hair dryer to thaw the frozen fuel pumps. Our 11-year-old son looked at it in disbelief.

He’d never seen anything so old and beat up.

Mike didn’t see it that way.

“It’s the best one I’ve owned,” Mike claimed.

He bought it five years ago for $50, and it runs if you take a hair dryer to the fuel pump every winter.

Mike and Donna at our house, petting MacKenzie.

Mike and Donna live seven miles southwest of Willow River. Donna had told us we could cut a Christmas tree on her land. She was working Saturday, so Mike led us out to the woods. Actually, their two big Labradors did the leading.

We found a beautiful tree right away, a nine-foot white spruce. It wasn’t perfect, but it was close. Towards the top it tapered in a bit, then spread out again, like a crown on the three Wise men.

It was too nice a morning to just cut the tree and go home. So we kept walking. Clouds covered the sky. The woods were full of soft greens and browns. The snow was melting, perfect for making a snowman. Half a dozen grouse flew off along the trail. One would fly, then after a few seconds, another would follow. The dogs nosed after them half-heartedly, as if they just wanted a leisurely stroll too.

My wife, Cindy, said grouse will only flush two times, then they get tired. She had read that in Laura Erickson’s book, For the Birds. Mike said that wasn’t true at all, not from his experience. But they didn’t argue. It was too nice a day, and the Christmas spirit was on them.

Mike led us to some balsams. They were growing in a grove of white pines. The balsams were spindly. Not much sunlight could penetrate there. It was like a cathedral, very peaceful. Some of the pines were dying. Survival of the fittest.

Back in the field, we cut the spruce with a hand-saw that I use once a year, just for this purpose. I felt sad, cutting down this strong tree that had survived so well. The fittest trees don’t always survive.

There’s something wrong about cutting Christmas trees, I said.

Cindy reminded me of the many trees we have planted over the years. I looked around at all the trees in the field that Nature had planted too, and the guilt didn’t last any longer than it does every December.

My son and I carried the tree back to the pick-up like successful hunters. It was 15 years old, judging by the rings on the end.

The day wouldn’t let us go

We were ready to say our goodbyes, but somehow the day wouldn’t let us. Mike pointed to a big spot on a tree half a mile away. He pulled out a pair of binoculars from his coveralls.

“An eagle,” he said. It was on the far side of the field. He and Donna had been watching several eagles feed on something in the field for three days. Another large bird sat in a tree on the near side of the field, about a quarter mile away. It didn’t have a white head or tail, but it was huge. We decided in unison to take a closer look.

We walked through a swamp toward the bird trying to keep as much alder brush between us and the bird as we could. The dogs kept close by Mike’s side. If they went too far, he would call their names in a 1οw, sharp voice. Then they would wait for us, as if they knew we were stalking something.

Finally we came to a big pine tree about 80 yards from the bird. We stepped out for a good look. It was an immature bald eagle, about three feet tall, with a mottled breast and head. It looked at us sternly, as if to say, “You think you were sneaking up on ME?” Then it took off on wings that spread at least six feet. As it passed over the field, two crows spotted it and took off in pursuit. A mature eagle flew off the other way, its white head and tail glowing against the clouds.

We walked until we came to their luncheon: a small deer, with nubs of antlers just poking out. Eagles and crows had picked it over. The back bone was exposed, the entrails long gone. Those birds weren’t wasting a bite. The ground was covered with their footprints. Wing marks showed where they had landed and taken off.

We set the tree up when we got home. It is beautiful, covered with lights and ornaments? It will overlook a holiday of love and family and friends, and tell the story of Christmas past and present, and the story about our walk in the woods with Mike.