Duluth Reader Weekly

The author hand holds a white-throated sparrow that she banded on the same day, The banding notebook and supplies are in the background. Photos by Emily Stone. The bird Jim placed in my hand barely felt like anything against my skin. The black-and-white-striped feathers were soft, the temperature similar to my own. We’d just recorded the weight of this little beauty at 10 grams, or about as much as two teaspoons of sugar.

Museum staff Heaven Walker, Elora Repman and Mollie Kreb stand next to an ash log, with basket splints pounded by volunteers. Photo by April Stone. Dappled light, mosquitoes and the roar of a chainsaw filled the humid air on a morning in early June. Guided by skilled hands, the blade sliced through pale wood.

A lovely daisy. Photos by Emily Stone. While staying in Boulder Junction, Wis., to take a Wilderness First Responder course last week, I made time for a bike ride on the Heart of Vilas County Bike Trail. This wonderfully curvy, scenic, paved trail is a favorite of mine. At this junction between spring and summer, I delighted in the profusion of flowers. Riding alone allowed me to stop and smell the roses.

If Trump the Terible had any brains, he might recognize his resemblance to Ivan the Terrible. Is the American empire still alive and well on It’s 250th birthday? As I watched Donald Trump blow his top, bottom and sides at our Meet the Press host Kristen Welker Sunday morning, another boss in history came to mind. It was Russia’s Ivan the Terrible. A fascinating character even when a child, he became Tsar of Russia at 16 and ruled from 1547 to 1584.

We had around 600 people representing both sides of the Bridge, so not quite enough to span the whole bridge. However, we were able to cover the “Arch.”  There were lots of waves and honking from those driving by. The whole mood of the day was positive and joyful. Some even admitted to being a little choked up as they held hands with their new friends, which expressed our unity and resolve to stand together to make a more just and peaceful world.

Photos, original cartoons, articles, letters, and press releases are welcome.

Common loons usually lay two eggs. Photo by Emily Stone. In just the last week or two, new life has exploded in the Northwoods. To my brain, it feels like a burst of fireworks. Instead of embers sparkling in the darkness, there’s been a surge of colorful blossoms, an eruption of vibrant baby leaves, a cacophony of birdsong and a buzz of movement everywhere I look. Just outside my backdoor, the eastern phoebe has been shouting his own name.

Donald Trump moments before sniffing Rudy Guiliani’s perfume. I brought 500 leaflets to my latest and perhaps last Minnesota State Republican Convention. The flyers were a reprint of my current full-page Reader critique of the GOP. The party has adopted Trump’s moral compass, which points only to himself. Its growing with spite and revenge as dementia takes charge. It has no room for the Beatitudes. It is found on the front page of every newspaper.

The fur of Franklin’s ground squirrels looks gray due to alternating bands of black and white on individual hairs. Photo by Emily Stone. The birds were quiet, but a tangle of dead trees squeaked and chirped in damp gusts as we hiked back from High Falls in Tettegouche State Park, Minn. The falls had been gushing, and climbing the stairs near the falls had kept us warm, but now squalls of sleet were chasing us home. A lump of gray fur in the middle of the trail pulled us up short.

The former Mrs. Gates is the Andrew Carnegie of the Gates’ fortune. Two American billionaires: One loved books, the other hated them Andrew Carnegie was born in Dunfermline, Scotland, in 1835, migrated at 13 with his family to Allentown, Pennsylvania, in 1848, immediately went to work in a small factory for $1.20 a week. The owner had a library of 400 books on many subjects that his workers could borrow.