Jon Wurtmann Column: Into the Hazel Wood
Thursday May 20th, 2010
The Season of Renewal
Jon Wurtmann
The warm days of early April caught me unprepared. The boats weren’t prepped yet for spring. The gear and tackle still piled up in the barn after a long season. Used hard and put away wet. But the weather beckoned like a siren. We had to go.
I loaded the boys into the van and we headed up to the camp in the nearby Adirondacks, just across the blue line. The twins had invited a friend to round out our posse, as long experience has shown that adding another kid to the mix can actually stabilize the mixture thus reducing the infighting. I liken this phenomenon to a chemical mixture, where three elements create an inherently unstable compound, whereas four makes it relatively benign.
The warm weather had melted the ice away from the edges of the lake out to about 100 yards, where a fast disappearing sheet of ice remained over the middle of the lake: a sheet of ice that required the immediate attention of four boys. I opened up the shed and found 4 life jackets – seemingly shrunk from last year – and performed the “spider shakedown.” There’s an exceptionally large, creepy and aggressive species of spider up here that we encounter regularly. Usually hiding in plain site on clothing, boots, or once, in the middle of the bed. I sent him to a better place with a badminton racquet.
Suited up, the boys dragged the canoes out to the water’s edge and launched. I followed in the sit-on-top kayak, as a sort of supervisor/lifeguard. The dog naturally thought her services were required also, and swam alongside in the bone-chilling water. The boys began attacking the thin ice with their paddles with a determination that was much about being nine and eleven, as it was about sweeping out the old season, and ushering in the new. Renewing both themselves and the lake in the glimmering sunshine.
The dog and I saw our services were unnecessary, and headed for a shoreline cruise, where the dog could find her footing on the soft bottom. Staying within site of the ice-breakers, I glided over the newly emerging weeds and lily pads along the lake floor. This lake hosts an enormous population of newts, and they were basking in the warm shallows, nestled in the weedy detritus.
The next day, with just one son and a friend, we arrived to find that the ice had vanished in the night, leaving the lake wide open. We wrestled the old outboard onto the rowboat and fired it up, and the boys went for a shakedown cruise. After a spell, they switched over to the kayaks and prowled the edges for newts. I happily split firewood and stacked it anticipating lazy summertime campfires when fragrant smoke and sparks spiral upward into the night sky.
The boys came back with an impressive catch of 34 newts, which were duly admired and released. Our rule at camp is that we can catch anything we like; snakes, frogs, fireflies, fish, but by the end of the day, they all must be let go.
Next we loaded up the rowboat and sputtered off for an area where trout will sometimes congregate and feed on emerging aquatic insects. But nothing doing today – the water just wasn’t warm enough for either the insects to hatch, nor the trout to rise. We flung all manner of lures; spoons, soft plastic baits like shad and worms, and I even had the fly rod in case a brave fish rose to the surface. But even a die-hard like myself quickly recognized the futility of the venture, so we headed back to futz around the camp. I occupied myself with yard clean-up and other busywork, while the boys peeled off into the woods, looking for adventure.
I realized, like I do every year, that kids don’t need to catch a fish, or conquer some goal to have a good time. They make their own fun, their own adventures. Our mission as parents is to introduce them to the places where they can make that happen. In spring, you can’t do much better than the shore of a lake or pond, awakening from winter. Between the newts, tadpoles, minnows, and fiddlehead ferns, there’s plenty to occupy them. Bring tall rubber boots (and a change of dry socks and shoes, because they’ll fill their boots within five minutes.) Bring an inexpensive butterfly net, some buckets, and a camera. Then set the kids free.
Jon Wurtmann is a freelance writer for print and web, creative director, and runs Wurtmann Advertising. See more of his work at http://www.landing.net, or email him at
