William O'Brien State Park has been my local getaway place for years. For 37 years I have been hiking, cross-country skiing, canoeing, watching my young children get used to water and becoming young swimmers, skiing with both kids while I carried them in packs, and then watching them independently grow as skiers themselves. Watching them become lovers of the land. It also became a fall training ground for my wife and me to get ready for the ski season and enjoy the spectacular fall colors. Winter is the magical time in the park to learn to love winter, skiing hundreds of kilometers each season, day or night by headlamp. The park also became a place of both celebration and healing from the events of being human. When COVID began, my adult son and I began walking here at night. What we have seen at sunset and beyond has amazingly changed the way we think about the park as the night shift of life takes place. We still take this walk, in almost all weather from hot and humid to 20-below. So grateful to have an amazing place like this close to home.
Happy to be alive to enjoy it.
Aaron Hautala, Cuyuna, Minn., former president of Cuyuna Lakes Mountain Bike Crew
Thirty-two degrees Fahrenheit and falling. Strike of a match, smell of wood smoke. When the temps drop, and the white snow falls, the quest for hope and joy grows nearer to those things we appreciate all year but only clearly see with a grateful eye, in the darkest times of the year. Blue skies frigid as they are, have more color in the wonder of winter. Evening shadows grow in length, size and perceived story. To the woods we must go, on snowshoe, ski or cycle. Woods so large, so clear, so quiet. Our Minnesota winter woods allows us to hear ourselves, and question, "What if?" And if, "How so?" If so, "When?" Dreams live in the forest. Deep in the snow. Out where the wild lives and sleeps. We must find it. And when we do, we find ourselves.