There is something about this time of year that gives me a nostalgic feeling that is hard to put to words. To me, fall has a distinctive smell all of its own that, when breathed in, is as exhilarating as it gets. I especially enjoy taking a walk outdoors on a clear, cool, sunny morning as the fallen leaves make a crunching sound with each step I take.

A few days ago, myself and my brother-in-law, Lynn Johnson, who is home from Alaska for a few weeks, took a drive out to South Shore Drive to check out all of the birds at the Jugland dam. On the way out, we encountered a flock of wild turkeys in the road ditch that seemed content to stand and watch as we drove past. After checking out the dam and seeing pelicans along with a few cormorants feeding in the current, we also noticed a huge number of pelicans sitting farther back on a point, seemingly waiting their turn to feed in the fast running current.

On our way back to town, we saw two more flocks of turkeys and then this short drive was topped off by a four-point buck running across the road in front of us and disappearing into cover on the lakes’ side of the road. To me, it was something special to see that much wildlife in such a short stretch of road this close to town.

When I was a kid growing up north of town, I would spend hours walking the slough on both sides of Bridge Avenue hoping to get a glimpse, of wildlife. Most of the time, I would see signs like tracks in the snow, which would fuel the imagination as to how many or what kind of critters were watching as I trekked through the slough. In my mind, I was on an adventure like the old trappers and fur traders of days far in the past. Some of my heroes of adventure were Davey Crockett, Danielle Boone and, of course, Sargent Preston of the Yukon with his trusty dog, King. Yes, a kid alone in the outdoors with only his Red Ryder BB gun for company could picture himself as any one of those role models. In today’s world, it seems like role models today, who aren’t professional athletes, are pretty hard to come by.

As a kid, fall wasn’t just about tracking critters and picturing yourself as an adventurer it was much more than that. For me, it was also about football and the Minnesota Gophers — who were my favorite team. Their games would be on the radio on Saturdays and I would be glued to it, weighing on every word. In my mind, I could see the plays unfold as the announcer put them to words. I would feel the excitement or disappointment of every play, as if I were at the game in person. In the late 50s and into the 60s the Gophers were a force to be reckoned with, and I had my heroes. I can remember one of those Saturdays in late fall when the Gophers were playing Missouri. It was snowing outside on that day as I sat by the radio in the kitchen, listening intently as the announcer described the game playing out in a snow storm.

I could picture the whole thing in my mind and in the end, the home team was victorious and I thought to myself that it just didn’t get any better than this.

If I pause and reflect about past falls, I can remember walking into our breezeway and that certain smell of vegetables like tomatoes, squash and cucumbers my mom had picked from our garden and put there before canning. It’s kind of funny how I can have fond memories of certain events that would seem insignificant to most, but stick out as highlights of my past. I would venture to guess this was what made the simple things in life seem so good.

Getting back to the outdoors of today, I had someone ask me a short while ago if I knew why there isn’t a decent public access on Pickerel Lake.

Good question.

It’s one I, myself, have wondered about from time to time. I have fished Pickerel a few times these past years with my grandson, Trevor, and it was usually in the spring before the weeds took over. There are some nice pike and perch in the lake that are there for the catching. The access is definitely a mess and one has to wonder why we are spending the money to clean up a lake that doesn’t have a very user-friendly access. I know a couple of young guys who cleared out the area where the present make-shift access is now because the original one had gotten so bad that they couldn’t use it. I don’t want to question anyone’s intentions, but evidently the DNR has none when it comes to an access on this lake.

Once again we are being asked to add a small 1/2 percent to our sales tax in order to keep the work the Watershed has been doing moving forward. Though the water in Pickerel is clear, I’m not particularly fond of the weeds that came with that clear water. Cleaning up our watershed is not a quick fix, but I really believe that we are on the right track.

I like living in a community that is surrounded by nice lakes and voting to continue that tax only makes sense to me. I will be voting yes on that amendment — I hope you will do the same.

Until next time, take a little drive in the country to enjoy the wonderful fall colors and you might be treated to the sight of a soaring eagle, turkeys, a deer or even a red fox. Don’t forget that there is still a lot of good fishing ahead before the water hardens.

Please take some time to honor those who have sacrificed so much for the freedoms we enjoy today. Take a little time to remember those who made the ultimate sacrifice, those who served and those troops who are serving today.