As I have mentioned in previous columns, I became hopelessly bewitched by the spirits of long-dead lumberjacks when I joined the staff of the Holt and Balcom Logging Camp in Lakewood. The camp was badly deteriorated, and subsequent efforts to restore it took seven long years.

In the early 1970s, scientists were sounding warnings about climate change which seemed far-fetched. Out of curiosity, I attended an event featuring a man who’d become known as Earth Day senator; Wisconsin’s Gaylord Nelson.

I was starstruck. Sen. Nelson was congenial and charismatic, respectfully listening to comments and answering tough questions. I stayed for the meet-and-greet, a life-altering decision.

When Jon and I bought Otter Run in Townsend in 1993, it was advertised as 87 acres on the Townsend Flowage. As recorded on the survey map, the property is composed of three distinct parcels. Perfect. Ah, nothing’s perfect. Thirty acres of it is underwater so only 57 acres actually belong to us.

It’s a stunningly beautiful summer night on the Townsend Flowage. The lake is smooth as glass, a mirror reflecting the full moon lording it over an inky sky. I can hear music from across the lake. I sure wish it was coming from Little Tipsy.

Father’s Day was really special this year because our daughter treated us to a weekend in Madison. Isn’t it wonderful when your kids do things like that? We wouldn’t have missed this for the world, though getting there and back was an adventure.

As is the case with many of us lucky enough to be retired up north, I’ve become an early riser. My reward is seeing glorious sunrises and enjoying the company of critters that visit at daylight. I savor the solitude. It’s a perfect time to write, prepare for events on my calendar and catch up on paperwork.