"It may be that the greatest of humanity's preoccupations is the denial of death. Our desperation to deny death is so strong that a number of other high-minded denials orbit around it. Humans deny that we are animals partly because animals die. We deny human nature for the same reason. We deny that we are bodies by insisting that we have them instead, creating distance between our mortality and the immortal minds we feel ourselves to be. We deny science that conflicts with our views of immortality or that reminds us of our certain doom. We deny the need to look at death honestly, and we even deny that we are denying death."
― James A. Lindsay
It was late Sunday afternoon when I finally reached the Sauk City Canoe Launch to check on the tiger beetles. Sue took her own car as a precaution so I wouldn't get her sick. Burning extra gas wasn't ideal, but after feeling stuck indoors, we were both craving a little sunshine and a break by the water.
Within a few minutes, I located a single Bronzed Tiger Beetle ― it was the only one present!
Will it hold out until November? I doubt it, but I'll check again.
The calm of the river and the beach ...
Perhaps my last look at a Shoreline Wolf Spider for the year ...
No super large ones, but even the smaller ones are cool.
The sereneness of the Wisconsin River ... it's good for the soul, spirit, or whatever.
This was pretty cool ...
I'm fairly certain this Ground Grab Spider is Xysticus ferox.
Ring-billed Gulls were abundant, but there were virtually no passerines present. I thought I heard a single Yellow-rumped Warbler call note, but I never saw it. A Greater Yellowlegs was on one of the sandbars, but the moment I thought about photographing it, it flew off and left the area. Astonishingly, no sparrows ... not even a junco.
My mom isn't going to make it after all. My older sister, who holds power of attorney, is looking into hospice care. It's heartbreaking to watch — mentally, my mom is still fully present, but her body is giving out. She made her wishes clear about not wanting feeding tubes, and since she has virtually stopped eating and drinking, we know it won't be long. I helped my brother, Anthony, through this same transition back in 1997 (cancer). This brings back so many of those memories, though my mom is 84 and my brother was only 35. I'll probably live to be 102, but I'll accept anything, really.
Live in the present moment, my friends.
All images © 2026 Mike McDowell