Northern claustrophobia becomes love

“I can’t breathe!” I thought as I gasped and scrambled into the car hoping to find a high spot where I could get up and over the trees. I just knew the Leonidas lookout would do the trick. I had to get out of all these trees! This was my claustrophobic reaction for about the first 6 months I lived in northern Minnesota.

I moved here 8 ½ years ago from the west were I could see as far as the eye could see. Where I came from I could navigate the roads, mountains, hills and plains because landmarks were easy to see: a big hill over here, a cell phone tower over there, the big rock pile in the distance. I felt lost here where every road looked the same, every lake looked familiar and my landmarks got swallowed by the trees. I was overwhelmed by all the trees and brush and vegetation that seemed to invade every nook and cranny in Northern Minnesota. I was reminded of the evil trees that came alive in “Snow White and the Seven Dwarves!”

I missed the trout streams from out west, too. Everywhere I lived in Wyoming I could usually find a trout stream less than 30 minutes away. After work I could load up and go fishing and still be back in time for supper. I was shocked that few people up here fish for them but that could be because ‘trout-designated’ rivers or lakes are few and far between. Trout fishing had been a part of my life since I was a toddler and it seemed so difficult now. It was getting harder and harder to fight the homesickness.

It also probably didn’t help that I moved here in 2002 when a peak army worm infestation occurred! I remember this very well as I had never heard of an army worm before and that year they covered my porch, yard, trees and house and the streets. I felt as if my world was shrinking by the day. First the trees kept me close to home, now the army worms kept me in my home! I have to admit it was fascinating watching the food chain at work in my own back yard (even if it was a little disgusting): armyworms being eaten by flies, flies being eaten by dragonflies, dragonflies being eaten by bats. I watched this for days. What else was I to do? I was stuck in my house after all! I wondered if this is what my future in Minnesota was to be. I feared I’d have to endure army worms every year. I decided it was my own fault for not doing some research before moving here.

Oh the rain! Now that was a nice surprise! The hard downpours and instant rivers in my driveway and ditches were amazing to me. I had never seen rain like this or experienced it very much in the arid environment I grew up in. I heard the locals complain about the rain with very harsh language on occasion. The joy I experienced when it finally happened was unexpected! My daughter and I literally would run outside and play in the rain that first summer. It didn’t take long to find out that with the rain comes the humidity and… mosquitoes. Wow—now they were a shocker too! I felt as I was either melting or being eaten alive and we found it hard to step away from the air-conditioned, bug-free comfort of the house. I soon came to dread the rain and the humidity and mosquitoes that came with it. Again I felt trapped in my house in my new Minnesota environment. I fantasized about my next vacation back home.

I finally got a little hut happy and leashed the dog and ventured down the secluded dirt road by my house. I equipped myself with a gallon of bug spray, a hat, and a bottle of water. I walked and walked, getting bored with the same old scene: trees and more trees. It was time to turn back home. I stopped to glare at the trees I so desperately despised and as my eyes adjusted I saw two little eyes peering out at me! I have to tell you my heart about leaped out of my chest until I realized it was doe standing as still as a rock. We looked at each other for a few minutes until she just disappeared. No sound or warning--she was just gone. The trees swallowed her up. I stood there a few seconds before I began my walk again, still headed away from home. I wasn’t quite sure I was ready to head home after that.

This small event transformed my feelings for the trees. As I walked I saw them in a different light. Instead of glowering at the trees I found myself searching them for signs of life. At every opening or sound I would stop, look and listen. I found raspberries growing just beyond the road. I ate wild strawberries I discovered in a small lea. Tiny tree frogs were perched on the trees and I surprised a crane in a pond. I heard a loon’s cry in the distance and I got a glimpse of what could have been a wolf. I stayed out there for 2 hours intrigued with my new discoveries.

Since that day I have seen bears, wolves, moose, deer and unique birds secreted within these trees. “You can’t see the forest for the trees,” a saying I’ve heard my entire life, completely made sense to me now! My walk into the woods not only changed my attitude toward the ever present trees, it also changed my attitude toward northern Minnesota. Trout fishing maybe isn’t as convenient as it once was, but I found that some of the best walleye and crappie fishing in the country is almost in my back yard! I haven’t tried muskie fishing yet but it is an opportunity I didn’t have back home. I was used to shades of browns and tans and yellows, not the tints of greens and bursts of color the impressive vegetation Minnesota has to offer. The intense rains make my vegetable garden, yard and the north woods flora thrive. No hose and sprinkler needed here! Not much can chase me indoors anymore. Bring on the rain, mosquitoes, trees and cold—I’m ready!

It is the outdoors of northern Minnesota that makes it so special. Sure, there are a few things from back home that I will always miss: arrowhead hunting, gold prospecting, elk, trout streams and mountains. But now when I head out with my walking stick, fishing pole, horses or dogs I think, “I can’t breathe!” That is because the beauty of my new Minnesota home takes my breath away.

Amy Payton and her husband Greg live in rural Eveleth. This is Amy’s first contribution to Hometown Focus.