This year, a new law went into effect in Wisconsin, allowing 10-year-olds to hunt. My motherly protection made me wish for my 10-year-old to ignore this law, and my survival instinct wanted all of us to stay out of the woods entirely. But since I married into a family of hunters, my vote didn’t really carry.

The new Wisconsin law requires all 10-12-year-olds to be accompanied by an adult mentor who had completed hunter safety. So both my son and husband took the course together this summer. For my husband, all the material was review – he’d never taken the course before and had been “grandfathered” in. But his own dad was such a stickler about safety, he may as well have already earned the certificate 30 years ago, when his dad started taking him into the woods.

Father and son dutifully went to the class this summer and I’ve never seen my son study for anything like he did this class. He practically memorized the book, and made note cards to practice the questions he thought would be on the test.

Both passed the course and earned their hunter safety badges.

A couple weeks ago, they participated in Wisconsin’s “Youth Hunt” – two days designed to give youth hunters ages 10-15 an opportunity to hunt deer and gain valuable hunting experience at a time when other hunters are not authorized to hunt deer with a firearm.

I couldn’t have been prouder to hear my 10-year-old explain that “he just couldn’t squeeze the trigger” because he wasn’t sure it was a clear-enough shot. Craig didn’t want to wound the deer without killing it. He let Dad take her down and they got another doe tag for the next day, but never got another shot.

Though this can be a dangerous sport, I’m comforted to know both the men in my life approach it with such serious thought. Craig told me, “I think next time I’ll be ready to squeeze the trigger.”

I’m loving Wisconsin more and more, each autumn we live here. I took this photo at about this time in 2006 and could have done so again this past weekend, had I brought my camera along.

The fall colors are just one of the gifts we receive in Wisconsin, and though I must admit the dismal-looking November that always follows, the changing seasons force me to enjoy what we have, when we have it.

A good lesson in general.

Have you enjoyed a Honeycrisp apple today?

Our loons have been a relaxing distraction this summer. The two families that we see most often on our lake seem like friends to those who live here — cohabitants of a beautiful waterfront retreat.

The tiny fluffballs that ride on their parents backs in June, are fully capable of diving and even flying by September, but it’s interesting to note that the adults were still feeding their “teenagers” when I shot this photo in August. The parents dive deeply and then return with a morsel, the young loons paddling quickly to reach the adult and take the minnow into their own beak.

And after swallowing the fish, the young loon (on the left) engaged in a sweet habit of circling the adult (on the right.) That’s how I captured this pose – it almost looks like the two are hugging.

As their feathers turn from the stark black and white of spring, to the warm brown hues we see now, I know that autumn is nearly here. I’ll definitely miss our loons when they fly south for the winter…

Wisconsin Loon Series
Early June
Late June
August

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This post is a part of Fussy’s Thursday Happiness Project Thursday.

Our first letterboxing excursion as a family took place along the Gandy Dancer Trail in Danbury, Wisconsin, but we were unsuccessful in finding the letterbox (although the fun afternoon with buddies was still well-worth the attempt!)

But in Mankato, Minnesota, we found two great letter boxes, using the letterboxing tips I shared last month. One was in a small park in a residential area, and the other was at the end of a very long walk along the bike paths and boardwalks that meander the Mankato area.

The kids used the letterbox stamps to mark their own notebooks, and stamped the notebooks in the letterboxes with the custom stamps they’d made.

And although I could barely force myself to peer into the viewfinder using my telephoto lens, I managed this shot of a four-foot-long snake that was sunning himself beside the boardwalk.

EEEEK!

Visit letterboxing.org to find directions to thousands of letterboxes hidden worldwide.

Southern Minnesota series:

Letterboxing in Mankato
Jeffers Petroglyphs
Sod House
Prairie Wildflowers

What does passing the torch mean to you? Is it teaching? Passing traditions? Or good news about youth? Join us each week for Pass the Torch Tuesday.Former PTT posts.

This post is also a part of Fussy’s Happiness Project every Thursday.