One week until the release of my next lecture and I feel like I’m still, after eleven months of doing these, finding new obstacles to throw in front of myself. On the other hand, I did see this bald eagle standing at the edge of the ice next to the remnants of its most recent meal. It was even closer than it looks in the photo. And above both of us was a vulture of some sort waiting in a tree for the eagle to leave so it could pick at the leftovers. When the eagle did leave, it made a murder of crows in the tree on the far side of the river it decided to depart for pretty vocal about how upset they were. It was cool to see that.

For several years I would brine a brisket in early March so I could serve homemade corned beef on St. Patrick’s Day. It’s not difficult, requiring mainly preparation, a lot of shelf space in the refrigerator, and vigilance to make sure the brine doesn’t leak all over the place. A couple of years it was difficult finding the preservative that gives corned beef its wonderful color.

Sometimes after a long cold winter the sun comes out and the birds sing like crazy and the ice begins to thaw and things are starting to flow and the crystal clear water you expect has been covered by a thick layer of viscous goop and all you can do is wait for it to flow on by.

The archetypal image of spring, it would seem, is the first flower bud sprouting from the cold wet earth. It’s an image of struggle, of life’s unremitting urge to seek the light. And it’s a miracle, every time.

But this image, of the Mississippi River in late February, when it started to get warmer after a record-breaking run of cold, is the image that’s resonating with me right now. I see an internal struggle, the liquid part of the river that wants only to flow struggling against the frozen part at the surface.

This month I decided to make a trailer for my lecture.

This is the primary reason I’m back in Minnesota two weeks later than I planned.

At least I was there to help my dad shovel.