Q&A with Paul Košir, poet and author of Perspectives of Nature

A host of bluffs and relict pines, / man’s contour farms, historic mines / are found throughout the Driftless Lands / some made by God, some, human hands. ~ from “Driftless Area” in Perspectives of Nature by Paul Košir


Spring has officially arrived–ahhh. With sunny days and blue skies, this is the perfect time to soak up some much-needed vitamin D as you take a walk or hit the trail. But don’t go alone. Paul Košir, a poet from LaCrosse, Wisconsin, offers you a companion in poetry.

Košir’s chapbook entitled Perspectives of Nature: Scientifically Romantic and Experiential Nature Poetry offers poems–for all seasons, along with space for your own notes and observations.

A former teacher, Košir decided to blend his two loves–science and poetry, so that anyone might be inspired by the beauty around them but also by the ways in which nature builds that beauty. Košir taps into an audience who enjoys the rhythm and cadence of the genre, as well as the reader who wonders about the why and how of science. Perspectives of Nature is a book of lessons in 32 poems from “Sun Dogs” to “Bird Song.”

I’m honored to host Paul today to talk about his chapbook of poems. And as always, there’s a giveaway. CLICK HERE to enter for a chance to win one of two signed copies of Perspectives of Nature.

Now, welcome Paul Košir!

Christi Craig (CC): Tell us about the origins of this chapbook–what inspired you to mix lessons in science with the prose in poetry?

Paul Košir (PK): The origin of the chapbook was a handful of poems I wrote in the late 1980s while I was the naturalist at Wyalusing State Park near Prairie du Chien, WI. As the naturalist, it was my job to interpret the natural world for park visitors, to describe and explain it. That job, that way of life, inspired me to mix science lessons in with my lines of poetry. I found my voice – writing beautiful, instructive verses.

But then I didn’t write another poem for 20 years. When I did write again, I began to add a natural perspective to my poems and was pleased with the result. With a new style emerging, I joined the Wisconsin Writers Association. The WWA published 4 of my poems in an anthology, which introduced me to the anthology’s compiler. He offered to guide me through the publication of a book of my poems with science themes. I began writing poetry in earnest to create enough poems for a book, not only because I wanted to write, but also because I felt I should write.

CC: A few of my favorite poems are: 1) “Warblers” (“They never stop moving, I can’t get a good look; / when they finally sit perched, it’s not like in the book.”), because I’ve lost my focus in the middle of a bird book, wondering if there was a misprint on the number of–what seemed to be–the same image of a black and yellow bird with a million different names; and 2) “Hummingbird Trap,” which is a beautifully written poem about your experience holding such a delicate bird: Through porous bones I felt its heart, its tiny, racing, living part. // With lightest touch, I held the life that on each front found danger rife. I’ve seen hummingbirds up close but never close enough to touch; I can only imagine this–amazing! I would love to hear more about this moment.

PK: One day, the landlady where I stayed while I was the naturalist at Wyalusing State Park ran up to me and said, “Paul, Paul, a hummingbird is trapped and can’t get out!” Seeing the panic in her face, I ran after the excited woman to where the bird was trapped.

I thought it would be easy to coax the bird to perch on a pole and set it free, but after several failed attempts, I realized I’d have to take matters – and the bird – into my own hands. Knowing the hummer would have to eat soon, I quickly climbed up to it with a bag.

I paused just long enough to make a plan. I’d have to grasp it around its body gently enough that it wouldn’t be crushed but firmly enough that it wouldn’t struggle. Then I’d have to place it in the bag and close it enough that the bird wouldn’t escape. Only then could I attempt the climb back down with a bag in one hand that I couldn’t hold too tight near the hummer, but also couldn’t ease up on.

I was so afraid I’d crush the female rubythroat but grabbed her, anyway. Her heart was beating even faster than mine. I had to look at her again because I couldn’t believe I actually had a live hummingbird in my hand. I had never felt anything like it.

I felt… life.

The next thing I knew, I was on the ground, letting her go.

CC: What’s unique about your chapbook is how each poem is paired with a page for reader’s notes and often a few footnotes on terms or concepts found within the poem (like kettle and drift and esker from “Ice-Age Impact”). I love a book that engages a reader in more ways than one: in the words on the page but in the invitation to explore on their own. What’s the best way someone might use your book in a workshop or class on creativity or poetry for young readers?

PK: Earlier this month I used Perspectives of Nature for examples in a workshop on writing about nature I taught to a group of teens and adults. It could be used in the same way to teach workshops on poetry in general or on specific topics in science for many levels of study.

In a classroom setting, the book’s glossary entries could be used to familiarize students with science topics before in-depth study or as review after in-depth study. The book’s sections for notes are ideal for portfolio evaluation and environmental education objectives. For continuing and self-taught students, writing notes in these sections could form a journal that would be its own reward and act as a reference for years to come.

Perspectives of Nature engages and educates readers about scientific content and concepts in ways and that other sources cannot and it educates them by appealing to different intelligences. Using the book can be adapted to any students – old, young, or young-at-heart.

CC: Who are your go-to poets?

PK: Certainly, Robert Frost is a go-to poet for me; I even quoted him in one of my poems. And Emily Dickinson. Those are the two poets whose poems I like the best and with whose work I am most familiar and whose poetry is most like mine. But I’ve read so little poetry, even of theirs that I can’t honestly say that I’ve been influenced by either of them…or any other poet, for that matter.

My scientifically romantic style of poetry is truly singular, I’ve found no poetry to act as a pattern for it nor any poet to act as a model for me. I am the standard-bearer of this new genre.

CC: Where is your favorite place to explore science in nature?

PK: Wyalusing State Park is definitely my favorite place to explore science in nature. It has such unusual geology and plant life and bird life that it is a phenomenal place to do so, either formally or informally. The park was the venue or genesis for many of my poems, especially the canoe trail.

I have found science in nature and subsequently written poems about it in many other places I hold in favor: on our land near Hillsboro, the bluffs of La Crosse, the shores of Lake Mendota, and caves in Kentucky, even looking out from our back yard and driving down the street. Nature is all around us, so I guess any place outside a lab that I am struck by science is, in that moment, my favorite place to explore science in nature.

About the Author

The scientifically romantic nature poetry of Paul Košir has its academic roots in his nine years as a student at the University of Wisconsin-Madison. There he earned bachelor’s degrees in math, natural science, and history. In 2010 he received a master’s degree in natural resources and environmental education from UW-Stevens Point. The experiential poetry was drawn from his twelve years as the naturalist at Wyalusing State Park near Prairie du Chien, Wisconsin. He also drew on this background to write articles for Wisconsin Natural Resources and La Crosse Magazine and to publish the book Wyalusing History.

Košir has taught biology, physical science, and math at the high school level and earth science, biology, and environmental issues at the college level. As a naturalist, he taught all ages about nature through hikes, programs, and displays, something he still does occasionally as a volunteer.

Born in Milwaukee, he now lives in La Crosse with his wife and their two sons. He enjoys writing, hiking, bird-watching, gardening, traveling, and working on the family’s 13 acres in the Driftless Area near Hillsboro, Wisconsin.


DON’T FORGET: Enter the giveaway for a chance to win a copy
of Perspectives of Nature. The deadline to sign up
is Thursday, March 29th!

*Hummingbird photo (above) credit: cuatrok77 on Visualhunt.comCC BY-SA

Stories in Word & Song: Introducing Francesca Brown
& a new collaborative project

A few weeks ago, I stepped on stage with my friend, musician Francesca Brown. Together, we shared a story: FOURTEEN.

I read my essay, then Fran took to the mic and blended those words into a beautiful and haunting melody and song that explores the story further and speaks to the plight of motherhood.

You can watch both of us in tandem below (need closed captions? Click HERE.)

And this is only the beginning.

I’ve been thinking about this project for several years but had yet to find a complementary artist who’s willing to dive right in. I’m honored–thrilled!–to be collaborating with Francesca. Her music is rich; her presence on stage captivating. She’s as excited and nervous as I am about putting our work together in a new way. And I have no doubt that–if anything–we will enjoy the ride as we work to bring more stories in word and song to the stage.


Create whatever causes a revolution in your heart. The rest will take care of itself.
                                   ~ Elizabeth Gilbert,
Big Magic

Excerpt from Life on the Loose by Cari Taylor-Carlson
(And there’s a giveaway!)

“Everything changes when you’re at the edge, ready to slide into a river that will take you into the abyss, the unknown.” ~ from Life on the Loose: My Journey from Suburban Housewife to Outdoor Guide


Christi here. I have two visions of myself: Christi Imagined and The Real Me. Christi Imagined loves to hike the narrow trail, camps with ease, and packs only one bag of absolute necessities. The Real Me marks the map for the nearest ER, stocks up on meals, snacks, water, meds, books to read (who can take just one?), a journal & pens (of varying thickness–fine, medium, BOLD!), too many clothes, an extra pair of shoes, chapstick…wait, make it my fave: Burt’s Bees lip shimmer, two colors (I want to look good in the woods). That “one bag” bit? I have a lot to learn.

Cari Taylor-Carlson, author of Life on the Loose: My Journey from Suburban Housewife to Outdoor Guide, can teach me plenty. Below is an excerpt from the first chapter of her book, a quick view into her story of outdoor guide experiences learned first-hand, sometimes the hard way. Eric Hansen (Hiking Wisconsin) calls this a “nonstop action” memoir; Robert Vaughan (Funhouse) says “Taylor-Carlson maintains composure, grit, integrity, all in the throes of arduous adventures in nature that many of us won’t even dare to take.” So when you reach the end of this excerpt and find yourself wanting more, ENTER THE GIVEAWAY for a chance to win your own copy of her book! Deadline: Tuesday, Sept. 5th.

Now on to a sneak peek at Cari Taylor-Carlson’s Life on the Loose!


Solo on the Green

“You’re the only person on the river this week,” Dirk said as he helped load my canoe. “Oh, you’re traveling light.  Do you have enough food, warm clothes?” His muscles bulged from hauling canoes. “Most people we put in fill the canoe.” He should know, as one of the three brothers who owned Tex’s Riverways, my canoe outfitter. They launched hundreds of canoes each season. Good thing he couldn’t hear my heart slam against my chest.

I had brought two duffels, stuffed with clothes, food, and gear. Six gallons of water, a Coleman stove, and those duffels didn’t take up much space in an eighteen-foot aluminum canoe. It looked as empty as I felt. The breakfast cheese omelet and hash brown potatoes at the Westerner Cafe couldn’t fill the scared hole in my belly.

Dirk added to my growing panic when he said in a flat voice, “You know my concern for your safety requires me to tell you what you’re doing is dangerous. This is off-season.” He walked to the bank where I sat in the canoe, and put his hand in the water as if to judge the current. “Ordinarily, we tell people if they run into trouble, another canoe will come along within an hour. For you, no such luck.” He looked smug, as if confident in some secret knowledge of pitfalls looming ahead of me on the river.

When I planned this trip down the Green River in Utah, I’d arrived at a midlife junction. It was time to start the business I had dreamed about for many years, adventure travel guide. I loved the symbolism: launch a canoe, launch a new life. Ten, fifteen miles a day in a mild current would be about right for an experienced paddler checking out an adventure for her soon-to-be clients. I envisioned warm sunny days, sixty to seventy degrees, with a slight chill at night, spectacular canyon scenery, and around every bend, convenient campsites on sandbars. It added up to a dream wilderness trip in my favorite Western state. What could go wrong? I relished the challenge, a chance to prove to myself that I could be an intrepid adventurer.

At breakfast, a man at an adjacent table announced in a loud voice, “The dog’s water froze last night.  It was twenty-three when I went to bed at ten.” He slung a winter jacket on a chair, gulped his coffee, and took off his gloves. “Feels nice and warm in here.” He looked at me as if he could read my mind. How could he know?

In exactly thirty minutes I would leave for the river and five nights in a tent. Did I have to do this? Yes, if I wanted to reinvent myself as an outdoor guide. Thanks to lack of weather foresight and a habit of traveling light, my wardrobe included neither a fleece jacket nor long underwear. I knew better, but packed for Utah, not Montana. To my credit, I brought a rain jacket and rain pants that came in handy for warmth at night when I needed to wear everything I’d packed.

Food had been my primary concern, not my wardrobe. I had planned meals down to the cheese sauce for the Pasta Alfredo, fresh garlic, and the curry powder for the chicken. I would eat well.

As I stood by the river, strong, confident, free dissolved into small, insignificant, scared.  At home, the Green River was a cute little wiggly blue line on a map.  Now those fifty-five miles from Ruby Ranch to Mineral Bottoms looked more like a Lewis and Clark expedition than a casual six day outing. At least I was going downstream, not up. I should have done some research, made a plan that more closely matched the risks of this solo voyage. As an experienced outdoors person, I should have known to bring fleece, even to Utah in early November.

Would I find campsites? Did I have enough food, water, fuel, and what if my stove broke down?

Then Dirk said, “When it’s time to come off the river, you’ll come around a bend and see a cottonwood on the left bank. It’s a big tree.” He walked to the bank and started to slide the canoe into the river.  “You can’t miss it.  Get ready to pull out there.”

“That’s it? You want me to watch for one tree? Anything else I should look for?”  Now I felt the fear that would obsess me all day, every day, until I found that cottonwood.  That fear sucked the joy out of the trip. Of course I could miss it. Could I watch both sides of the river at the same time in a current that whipped me around every bend?

“Oh, you’ll recognize the tree. It’s at Mineral Bottoms, right in front of you.” When he said this, his voice a monotone, he wouldn’t look me in the eye, just stared at the river.  I knew what he thought.  This middle-aged woman is crazy. His disdain for my adventure eroded every remaining fragment of my fragile confidence. Damn Dirk. Damn the river.  Damn my confident plan back in Milwaukee.

If I got myself into a jam, there was no one to lend a hand.  The Green flowed through a wilderness canyon. I had choices; let go of the dream and stay the course in suburbia, or turn off the monkey-babble in my head, get in the canoe, and paddle.

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.” He didn’t ask about a cell phone. I didn’t have one, but even if I did, it would have been useless in the canyon.  Would I admit to Dirk that I was scared? Never. Just in case, we made a plan, because this mother of four wasn’t ready to feed a turkey vulture in the desert.

“If you’re more than a day late,” he said, “I’ll send a helicopter to search for you.”

Dirk didn’t know I would swim miles in the murky Green, before I’d flag down a helicopter, nor pay hundreds of dollars for a rescue. There would be a way out of that canyon even if I had to crawl naked and bloody over prickly pear cactus all the way. Still, it was comforting to know we had a plan.

Everything changes when you’re at the edge, ready to slide into a river that will take you into the abyss, the unknown. Could I flip a switch, let go of my predictable life? A tree branch floated downriver and disappeared, and finally, tentatively, I let go of the root that bound me to the riverbank. The current caught the bow of my canoe, and in thirty seconds, I was three hundred yards downriver. I wouldn’t need to paddle, the Green would do the work. There was no turning back.

~

Cari Taylor-Carlson (right), ran her own business, Venture West-guided outdoor adventures, for 32 years and was the founder of the “Milwaukee Walking and Eating Society.” She is best known as a food writer and is the author of several books on the city’s dining scene, including Milwaukee Eats, Milwaukee’s Best Cheap Eats, and The Food Lover’s Guide to Milwaukee. She also wrote about restaurants for 18 years for M Magazine and has been a regular contributor to WUWW-FM’s “Lake Effect.” Visit her website: lifeontheloose.com

ABOUT THE BOOK: Life on the Loose: My Journey from Suburban Housewife to Outdoor Guide explores Cari Taylor-Carlson’s thirty-two year adventure with Venture West as she and her customers traveled the world with backpacks, canoes and kayaks. In the beginning, a painful divorce led Cari Taylor-Carlson to recognize her need for wilderness, her safe place. The book, then, takes us on two journeys–the internal angst of the guide and the external beauty of the places she traveled.

~

REMEMBER: Enter the GIVEAWAY
for a chance to win a copy of Life on the Loose!