Camping at Rice Lake with Cousins

Four years ago, I camped at Rice Lake State Fish and Wildlife Area with my cousins and remember finding magic while kayaking among the flooded trees. 

April 23, 2019. Such a beautiful place to kayak. As Eric and I entered the water there were trees all around us coming out of the flood waters. One tree was a combination cottonwood and river birch – the cottonwood grew completely around the trunk of the birch. It really felt like I was in the swamps of S. IL. We stopped and watched carp spawn for a long time. We saw blackbirds chase an owl, lots of ducks and a goose. A carp spooked me at one tree root area. 

Figure 1. Cottonwood tree growing around a River Birch at Rice Lake in 2019.

Figure 2. Video of kayaking under flooded trees at Rice Lake in 2019.

We returned in 2023 to camp again, this time with even more relatives and friends. I found a different magic this time. I felt it while walking with Mark under those same trees - a feeling of calm looking at the lush, bright-green vegetation growing over the sometimes-flooded ground. I felt it while floating in my kayak under the shoreline willow trees and watching the birds around me. I felt it when I sat at the campfire and looked high into the trees above me – their new, fresh, leaves sparkling against a crystal-clear blue sky. I felt it low to the ground, in the middle of the campground, where the creeping jenny and creeping Charlie buzzed with bumblebees and red admiral butterflies. 

Figure 3. Vegetation growing in campground at Rice Lake in 2023. 

Figure 4. Walking in formerly flooded area of trees at Rice Lake in 2023.

This time it occurred to me that camp was a mixture of nature and man. At first glance this did not all appear magical to me at all because I wanted more nature than manmade influences. Yet, upon further reflection, both led to a form of magical enchantment and a lovely experience. 

During this trip, I enjoyed good times with my fellow man (family) at camp. Nature added to that experience with birds flying low through camp or an odd duck call making us wonder, “What was that?”. Military planes caught our attention by flying low overhead one evening at dusk. A loud bang and black smoke caught our attention after a deadly accident on the highway nearby. 

At first, traces of man visibly caught my attention in a negative way. There was quite a bit of trash on the lake and shores, mostly from duck hunters. Too much debris, in my opinion, was left over from the previous winter’s duck blinds. When we walked under the low water trees, there were shot gun shells in the mud. It bothered me that those plastic and metal pieces will likely be there forever. 

Figure 5. Duck Blind at Rice Lake.

In the water, the introduced, invasive Asian carp continues to fill the lakes and rivers throughout this area. Yet, over time I began to realize how good always finds a way to outweigh the bad. Orion Briney and his commercial fishing crew worked long days to remove thousands of pounds of Asian carp, taking them to a processor for better use. Compared to previous years, we caught more, and larger, bullhead in the daily trot line hauls. We had begun to think they were gone and were happy to see them return. There are eagles nesting in several places along the lake. Pelicans and swans stay year-round. I even saw masses of green ash resprouting where their parents had died from the man-introduced Emerald Ash Borer. 

Figure 6. Commercial fishermen bringing in Asian carp harvest.

Figure 7. Eagle Nest at Rice Lake.

Figure 8. Green Ash tree saplings.

Yes, nature does endure at this very pretty lake. Among the many plants I noted, the majority are native. Blooming in camp were common chickweed, dandelion, creeping Charlie, white clover, butterweed, and small-flowered buttercup. Creeping jenny (Lysimachia hummularia) lushly grew in the wetter areas. 

Figure 9. Creeping Charlie (purple flower) and creeping Jennie (smooth round leaves)

Figure 10. Bumblebee working flowers on Creeping Charlie and white clover plants

Walking under the lowland trees, I encountered river birch, elm, cottonwood, boxelder, silver maple, green ash, and a variety of forbs including poison ivy, stinging nettle, wild chervil, and bedstraw. 

Figure 11. Wild chervil (Anthriscus sylvestris) in bloom under trees. 

Figure 12. Bedstraw and stinging nettle.

In the following journal entries, I describe the plants and animals that I experienced from the water while in my kayak or jon boat. 

April 25, 2023. I took the kayak out for a couple hours, paddling up the edge past one eagle next and almost to the other one. Sitting by an old willow tree that’s just starting to sprout spring leaves. All around are buttonbush and mallow, still in winter darkness. The expansive lake is just beyond the shrubbery. Birds are active here. Swallows fly in and around two large dead trees, chirping and singing. A redwing blackbird calls here and there. I scared up several ducks and coots on my paddle here. On the way back to shore I watched a slender white bird dive several times (Could it be a tern?). 

April 28, 2023. It was a nice day yesterday. I sat by the camper and read my book, then Mark and I took a boat ride. We first went to the dam area. As we approached a few pelicans swam out onto big lake from the dam. Later a mute swan swam in that lake. Along the dam levee a small shorebird worked for food among the plants and rocks. A few redwing blackbirds hopped around there too. We could hear many blackbirds in the tree line nearby. So much warmer and smoother on the water then the day before. We moved around the lake a few times though we never got any bites on our lines. Still, it was very nice on the water. 

Figure 13. Captain Mark.

Figure 14. Pelicans at Rice Lake dam.

Figure 15. Sandpiper along dam.

Figure 16. Fishing from Jon boat

In the afternoon I went for a kayak ride the other direction. I paddled next to shore by the old cattail beds. A couple times I floated under willow trees to sit and take it all in. The willow’s vibes mix well with the blackbird calls. Carp and gar work amongst the cattail reeds. I went past the big eagle nest and although I saw an eagle, though it never went to the nest. 

Figure 17. Red headed blackbird.

Figure 18. Kayaking under willow trees.

It’s a simple, slow, enjoyable life at this lake. Some things stay the same when camping with cousins at Rice Lake. They do a lot of cooking and fishing. But mostly we sit around the fire and reminisce. Although I don’t like all the manmade influences at this lake, I do have a different perspective on some of them. Regardless, the slow pace and nature’s beauty all around us made for pleasant days, and I look forward to returning next year. 

Figure 19. Family and friends around the campfire.

Tree Meditations - a 40 Day Sadhana

I'm completing a 40 day meditation sadhana as part of a learning journey in my online yoga studio. For two years I've been working on completing the seven step program in the Body, Mind, and Soul Yoga Studio. This is the final step. For 40 consecutive days I will do the same meditation daily. I chose a meditation from the CALM app by Jeff Warren titled "Rooted." It is a 10 minute meditation imagining I am a tree. Each day a different tree comes to mind and gives me insights into its positive qualities and intentions to include in my daily life. Each day I will add the daily tree below. 

Day 1 (July 24, 2023) - Cherrybark Oak (Quercus pagoda) from Heron Pond in Southern Illinois reminds me to be happy and loving. 

Rhonda by Cherrybark Oak at Heron Pond in 2019.

Day 2 (7-25-23) - Ponderosa Pine (Pinus ponderosa) is fun, strong, hip, colorful, and proud. 

Giant ponderosa pine at LaPine State Park in Oregon,
considered to be the largest of its kind in the world. Taken 7-9-23. 

Day 3 (7-26-23) - Japanese Maple (Acer japonica 'Osakazuki') my shade garden is patient, peaceful, graceful, and kind. 

Japanese Maple in my shade garden on 7-26-23. 

Day 4 (7-27-23) - Banyan (Ficus benghalensis) in Edison Home in Ft. Myers, Florida. I pictured myself sitting behind its many trunks where she reveals her social, friendly, cool, welcoming nature. 

Banyan tree at Edison Home in 2016.

Day 5 (7-28-23) - Black walnut (Juglans nigra). I pictured a big, old tree in the yard where I grew up in Canton, IL. I don't have a picture of it, but this picture is of an offspring from that tree that my Dad transplanted (with my niece Tiffany in the swing). Black walnuts are strong and defenders of themselves. They teach us to watch out for ourselves and remember to look for the emotional and spiritual side of things, not always focusing on power and money. A great tree! 

Black Walnut tree in Canton, IL about 1996. 

Day 6 (7-29-23) - White Pine (Pinus strobus) is soft, flexible, and resilient. 

White pine that Derek planted as a sapling in 2003 that he got in the 3rd grade.
Photo taken in 2020. 

Day 7 (7-30-23) - Eastern cottonwood (Populus deltoides) is soft, big, and a sentinel of the shoreline. 

Tyler in 2013 by a large cottonwood at my parents home.
I cried when they cut it down. 

Day 8 (7-31-23) - Honey locust (Gleditsia triacanthus) is lethargic and slow.

Day 9 (8-1-23) - White oak (Quercus alba) is the Mother of the forest - loving and caring. 

Large white oak in 2020 on trail at Dickson Mounds Museum. 

Day 10 (8-2-23) - no specific tree came to mind. I thought of many and felt a grounding to the earth. 

Day 11 (8-3-23) - Silver maple (Acer saccharinum) made me feel radiant and free. 

Silver maple in our front yard on 8-3-23.

Day 12 (8-4-23) - Bristlecone Pine (Pinus longaeva) tells me to embrace time and place. This tree is old and content where it is due to adaptability, resiliency, and joyful living. 

Rhonda hiking the Bristlecone Pine trail at Great Basin National Park in 2022. 

Day 13 (8-5-23) - Pin oak (Pinus palustrus) lives with strength, structure, and stability and so will I. 

Pin oak at St. Louis Botanial Garden in 2012.

Day 14 (8-6-23) - Willow (Salix alba) represents fluid, flexibility, freedom, and whimsy. 

Willow in the Portland, Oregon Chinese Garden in 2009.

Day 15 (8-7-23) - Banana is fun, supple, and bouncy. 

View of banana from my meditation pillow. 

Day 16 (8-8-23) - Pecan (Carya illinoinensis) reminds me to "live by the precept of the Honorable Harvest - to take only waht is given, to use it well, to be grateful for the gift, and to reciprocate the gift." Source: Braiding Sweetwater Grass by Robin Wall Kimmerer, page 20-21.

Sitting under the pecan tree,
watching my husband and dad harvest vegetables. 

Day 17 (8-9-23) - Forest Bathing (no specific tree came to mind during today's meditation)

Day 18 (8-10-23) - Hawthorn (Crataegus sp.) sent me vibes of confidence, boundaries (defense), sharing, and radiance while also revealing its spring flowers, summer shine, fall fruit, and winter structure. I pictured the hawthorns at Canton's Lakeland Park that I used to water while working there in college-year summers. 

Day 19 (8-11-23) - Bur Oak (Quercus macrocarpa) - is burly, strong, stable, and a leader. 

Day 20 (8-12-23) - Birch (Betula sp.). Immediately as my meditation began I felt myself under a large river birch (B. nigra) while kayaking flooded Rice Lake in 2019, then I went to the paper birch (B. papyrifera) while canoeing and camping the boundary waters in 1976 & 1977, and finally to the water birch (B. occidentalis) of the Great Basin the past couple years. Each time I was at ONE with nature. 

River birch (left) growing out of a cottonwood tree at Rice Lake. 

Day 21 (8-13-23) - Black cherry (Prunus serotina) - I sat beneath a grove of black cherry in our woods to meditate and felt at one on the Earth. 

Day 22 (8-14-23) - Witchhazel (Hamamelis x intermedia 'Arnold Promise') - When she explodes with blooms before everything else in the garden, she gets so excited. She bursts open and starts spring early, showing off her brilliance to the world, then relaxes and enjoys summer sun and rain. She feels tingles when someone touches her then sleeps soundly through the winter. A fun little tree/shrub that is also healing, medicinal, and sacred. 

Witchhazel on March 4, 2020

Day 23 (8-15-23) - Eucalyptus stands tall next to the Pacific ocean, welcoming monarch butterflies to overwinter in its branches. It teaches us to be fun, friendly, free, and colorful. 

Monarch in a Eucalyptus at Pismo Beach Monarch Sanctuary on 2-18-2021

Day 24 (8-16-23)- Joshua Tree - patient, sun loving, peaceful, and slow

Rhonda at Joshua Tree National Park on 1-31-2022.

Moved to Self-Guided practice using nature sounds music and a timer. 

Day 25 (8-17-23) - Costa Rica Jungle 

Tree Fern in Costa Rica in 2013

Day 26 (8-18-23) - Douglas Fir - I selected a Northwest sounds video and meditated from a Douglas Fir tree. I felt clean, clear, unique, timeless, and expansive. 

Douglas Fir (Pseudotsuga menziesii) Grand Tetons National Park, 9-5-2021.

Day 27 (8-19-23)  California oaks - unpredictable, long-lasting, grumpy

Rhonda ‎⁨in Los Osos Oaks State Natural Reserve⁩, ⁨Los Osos⁩, ⁨California⁩, on 2-7-2021.

Day 28 (8-20-23) - Sycamore - resilient and radiant

Sycamore at Ferree Home

Day 29 (8-21-23) - River trees - I was a bird in the tree along the Illinois River at Anderson Lake. I flew across the lake to the river and sat, watching the river flow by. Later I flew to a tree in the forest and watched the lightning bugs wake up and sing all around. I was an owl, silent, wise, and all-seeing. 

Rhonda sitting in tree along Illinois River on. 8-14-2019.

Day 30 (8-22-23) - Forest Songs of peace and positive vibes

Lusk Creek Nature Preserve in Southern Illinois

Day 31 (8-23-23) - University of Illinois Quad trees sent me wisdom, clarity, and intuition.

University of Illinois Quad on 10-24-2014

Day 32 (8-24-23) - Backyard pond and green ash (Fraxinus pennsylvanica) tree.  I heard the sound of wind chimes and water trickling. I started in a park by water, then a botanical garden, and ended in my own backyard feeling at peace in the warm vibrations of love and home. I am at home on earth with my biggest family "tree." 

Green Ash tree at end of garden pond in my backyard.

Day 33 (8-25-23) - Monterey Cypress (Cupressus macrocarpa) - I saw the Lone Cypress at 17 mile drive where it stands in the harsh elements content in space and time. 

Lone Cypress on 17 mile drive, Pebble Beach, Monterey, CA.

Day 34 (8-26-23) - Spring flowering trees: Flowering redbud, magnolia, and dogwood reminded me to start each day with new hope, energy, and grace. 

Yellow Butterflies Magnolia with redbud in background in 2019 at my house. 

Day 35 (8-27-23) - Sugar Maple (Acer saccharum) is sweet, friendly, and positive.

Sugar maple in Mississippi Palisades State Park in 2020.

Day 36 (8-28-23) - White birch (Betula paperifera). I did this meditation while riding behind Mark on our Triumph Tiger motorcycle through the Pictured Rocks National Shoreline area. The white birches around me stood out as elegant, delicate, and pretty. 

White birch at campground in Upper Michigan, 2023. 

Day 37 (8-29-23) - Upper Forest trees - part of them all in Upper Michigan.

Day 38 (8-30-23) - Eastern hemlock (Tsuga canadensis) 

Day 39 (8-31-23) - Any tree in the Upper Forest

Day 40 (9-1-23) - All trees. I"m part of Earth's Family "Tree"

View from my last day's meditation at Island Lake National Forest Campground, Upper Michigan, September 1, 2023.

A Banner Marsh Morning Paddle

For years we’ve been wanting to kayak at Banner Marsh State Fish and Wildlife Area. We drive past it routinely and even headed that direction about five years ago, but it never did work out – until today (Friday, July 21, 2023). I don’t know what I expected, but I certainly did not expect to be so impressed with this site. I really expected it to be a mucky, marshy, messy, muddy water without much character. Boy, was I ever wrong. 

Figure 1. Mark kayaks away from the Banner Marsh boat dock.

Banner Marsh was amazing. We started at the boat ramp and paddled down the long straight-a-way along a well-established kayak trail with metal signage leading the way. I also followed a Banner Marsh Paddle Route from the AllTrails app. We ended up paddling 3.4 miles for 1 hour and 40 minutes. 

Figure 2. Mark paddling among the water lilies at Banner Marsh.

Immediately we remarked on how clear the water was. We could see fish swimming and water plants were all along the shoreline, water plants that usually need clean water to flourish. Particularly outstanding were the American waterlily (Nymphaea odorata), small pondweed, yellow water primrose, and cattail (though most cattails were choked out by the invasive reed grasses). 

Figure 3. American Waterlily at Banner Marsh.

There were a lot of invasive plants along the shoreline such as Common Reed Grass (Phragmites sp.), Autumn olive (Elaeagnus umbellata), honeysuckle, and teasel. Yet, we also saw some nice shoreline plants, including a fruiting black cherry tree (Prunus serotina) with ripening fruit hanging over the water. Several trumpet creeper flowers and a few nice dogwoods.

Figure 4. Black Cherry fruit at Banner Marsh.

Along the route we saw a couple pair of graceful swans, some great blue herons, and many turtles popping their heads above water to watch us float by

This might be our new go-to kayaking destination. Next time we’ll take a picnic lunch and our fishing poles. 

A Hellish Night in Shawnee National Forest

Gunshots rang through the cool, rainy, dark campground and I felt paralyzed within my already vulnerable and confining sleeping bag and tent. My fear had been growing over the past hour as shouts of apparent anger from another campsite grew ever louder and more intense. I had already began preparing for my escape if it was needed. When I heard the gunshots, I knew it was time. 

I was camping at Bell Smith Spring Recreation Area’s Redbud campground in Southern Illinois’ Shawnee National Forest. Mark and I had checked out this campground many times when hiking there and I decided my solo trek back to Havana was a perfect time to try it. I was on my way back from Nags Head, North Carolina where I’d dropped off Mark to start his month-long motorcycle adventure on the Trans America Trail (TAT).

I arrived early on Wednesday, June 7, 2023, and quickly set up camp in site #12. I was sitting in my chair eating grapes and cheese when a breeze picked up and it looked like rain. I got my chair pushed inside the truck bed tent just as it started to rain. Inside, I comfortably sat in my chair, listened to music, and continued writing my book on my laptop. 

Camping at Bell Smith Springs Redbud Campground

Inside tent

Later the rain let up, so I went for a hike, lit a campfire, made a simple supper, and enjoyed my peaceful evening in the forest. I had just put everything away for the night when it started raining again. I was glad I took down the clothesline. The only things still out were the firewood inside a small tarp and Mark’s heavy motorcycle ramp, that I’d need when I retrieved him in Oregon in 30-some days. It was pouring rain, but I was nice and dry inside. 

Hiking along spicebush and broad beech fern on the Jay Gap trail at Bell Smith Springs Recreation Area. 

I fell asleep watching a movie I’d downloaded on my iPad and woke up in a confused state at about midnight. It was still raining. I tried to go back to sleep but couldn’t. I kept hearing noises around me. I told myself it was a small animal, or the movie noise, or the rain in the trees. It was hard to tell with the rain just what the sounds were. 

Soon I heard yelling and screaming. I turned off all my devices and listened with a tight chest and quickening heart. All kinds of scenarios ran through my mind, but mainly they were about what wacked out people might do in the rain and dark. It was VERY dark. I grabbed the truck bed-retrieving stick and bear spray for defense, though not sure how I’d use them, and began thinking of a plan to escape if needed. 

Then I heard two gunshots and knew I had to get out of that tent. I put on my hiking boots, grabbed a small flashlight and my phone (with no signal) and stepped outside in the rain – less intense but still raining. I had on pocketless sweatpants and a sweatshirt, so tried to tuck my items into my underwear. I briefly thought about hiding in the woods, but it was cold and wet and hours until daylight. 

Then I heard more shots and made a move. I had positioned the truck on the campsite sideways and had Mark’s big cycle ramp and the firewood under the tailgate on the ground. As quietly as I could I dragged the heavy ramp away from the truck so I could back it up and maneuver out of there. I left the tent up in the back of the truck with everything inside, the tailgate step and lift pole out, and drove away slowly, going in the wrong direction down the one-way road out of camp to avoid the scary campers. I didn’t see anyone in the dark campground on my way out. I drove slowly down the gravel road away from potential danger and started to feel safer and better. At the turnoff to the other parking area, I pulled over – a safe distance from the crazies - and moved my suitcase and backpack to the cab of the truck. Everything else I laid down and left in the tent, then undid the tent straps from the truck and loosened the tent poles to partially collapse them. I just stuffed it all haphazardly into the truck bed and pulled the tonneau cover over it all, closing the tailgate. 

In the dark and rain, at 1:30 a.m., I drove slowly down the rough gravel, narrow Shawnee forest roads. I saw many deer, opossum, and racoons. One small buck stood in the road a few moments before letting me pass. I kept watching the cell signal but there was none. Back out on Rt. 145 I drove south to find a town – Eddyville I think. I had cell service there, so called 911 and got emotional with the sheriff. He said he’d send a deputy out since shots were fired and told me where a hotel was in Harrisburg, about 15 miles north. The Super8 night clerk there was very nice but new and took forever to get me a room. I restlessly slept a few hours, got up at 6:30 a.m., showered, had breakfast, then pondered who to call for advice. Should I go back for the $300 ramp or just go home and try to find a replacement. Mark was camping somewhere without cell service, so I texted my sister, then called our son Derek, who said without hesitation to go get the ramp. I rearranged the truck bed at the hotel to allow room when I got there for a quick recovery. 

In the clear, calm light of day, on the way back to camp, I could feel my confidence and courage building, but I was still apprehensive. As I drove off Rt. 145 deeper into the forest, I could feel the trees sending me positive vibes. They seemed to tell me that it wasn’t their fault and they supported me, and I’d be okay. Stupid people are not a reason to fear nature. Adding to my courage, Mark called me just as I turned onto the Bell Smith Springs Road. I pulled over to tell him my story, then proceeded back to the scene with him on the line, but I lost him as I backed into the space to retrieve my items. 

As I walked to my truck after retrieving the ramp and firewood, I almost went back for a black feather that I’d found when I arrived the day before. Someone had stuck it into the stump of a pine tree, and it had seemed either a bit omen or a bit prophetic at the time. A nearby campsite had a voodoo-like thing hanging in a tree, and I wondered what type of people camp in Redbud campground. Had someone hexed the site, or did they leave it as a positive sign to the next camper? During by travels I had been listening to the audiobook “Wild” by Cheryl Strayed where she describes in the Corvidology chapter about how a black feather is a symbol of the void and beginning again. I did not take the feather with me, but I do think it was a sign and helped pull me out of the dark void of that moment to be proactive for my safety. It did change me. I’ve always known I’m strong, but I feel it deeper now. I also know I won’t put myself in that situation again. Next time I’ll camp in a state park by elderly, retired, peaceful folks. 

As I drove away, I felt proud of my confidence and courage, and was glad I hadn’t paid yet since I didn’t stay even one whole night. It wasn’t until I was about 100 miles north on my way home that the intensity of my relief set in. I wasn’t the vulnerable girl taught to fear every situation and person. I was a strong woman who took control of her situation and provided for her own safety. I had used my training and experiences to circumvent the situation and feel safe. 

It was about then that it also occurred to me that maybe the people weren’t wild-eyed, drug induced, crazy people, but rather ordinary campers frustrated with pesky coons that ravage and scavenge every camp I’ve ever visited. Maybe they were yelling at the coons to go away and maybe they got so frustrated that they finally shot at them. I sure hope they got the SOBs. 

Unloading haphazardly loaded truck at home.

This beautiful wisteria greeted me when I got home.