Silence

This is an image of winter grasses at Millersylvania State Park. All I have to say is that I'm grateful places like this exist.

Today's front yard critter count:
Raccoons: 5 (Crabby Mama and the 4 teenagers)
Deer: 0

Looking and Seeing

 

One of the things I love about photography is seeing with new eyes.  The more I look, the more I see.  The more I see, the more I understand.  And sometimes, when I see and understand, I feel as if I've been rung like a bell.

Today's front yard critter count:

Raccoons: 5 (Crabby Mama and her 4 teenagers)

Deer: 0

Little white frogs hopping across the gravel road: Lots

This Time, Horses

 

The poem in my last post brought to mind this equally wonderful poem.  I've loved James Wright's A Blessing since I first encountered it in my freshman English class at Washington State University.   It is an excellent poem to read out loud on St. Valentine's Day.

                   A Blessing

Just off the highway to Rochester, Minnesota,

Twilight bounds softly forth on the grass.

And the eyes of those two Indian ponies

Darken with kindness.

They have come gladly out of the willows

To welcome my friend and me.

We step over the barbed wire into the pasture

Where they have been grazing all day, alone.

They ripple tensely, they can hardly contain their happiness

That we have come.

They bow shyly as wet swans.  They love each other.

There is no loneliness like theirs.

At home once more,

They begin munching the young tufts of spring in the darkness.

I would like to hold the slenderer one in my arms,

For she has walked over to me

And nuzzled my left hand.

She is black and white,

Her mane falls wild on her forehead,

And the light breeze moves me to caress her long ear

That is delicate as the skin over a girl's wrist.

Suddenly I realize

That if I stepped out of my body I would break

Into blossom.

                                    -James Wright

Today's front yard critter count:

Raccoons: 2 (Old Tailless Guy and his Little Woman)

Deer: 0

Goat Hooves and Grace

Today my friend and colleague Kathryn shared this wonderful poem with me:

                                Pescadero

The little goats like my mouth and fingers,

and one stands up against the wire fence, and taps of the fence board
a hoof made blacker by the dirt of the field,

pushes her mouth forward to my mouth,
so that I can see the smallish squared seeds of her teeth,
    and the bristle-whiskers,

and then she kisses me, though I know it doesn't mean "kiss."

then leans her head way back, arcing her spine, goat yoga,
all pleasure and greeting and then good-natured indifference: she loves me,

she likes me a lot, she takes an interest in me, she doesn't know me at all
or need to, having thus acknowledged me.  Though I am all happiness,

since I have been welcomed by the field's small envoy, and the splayed hoof,
fragrant with soil, has rested on the fence board behind my hand.
                                                   
                                                                           -Mark Doty 

Today's front yard critter count:
Raccoons:: 6 (Old Tailless Guy's Little Woman, Crabby Mama and her 4 teenagers)
Deer: 3

My Primate Ancestors, Ski Lifts, and Hope

 

I'm afraid of heights.  I've often joked that my primate ancestor was the first one out of the trees -- the minute her feet hit the ground, she wiped her sweaty brow with her hand and said, "Whew, I'm never going back up there again!" My mother was also afraid of heights. When I was little and we would go skiing, mom was always nervous on the chairlift, not simply because she was afraid that she would fall off but also because she feared that she would deal with her fear of falling off by jumping off first, just to stop the stress.

I mention this because I'm reading a wonderful book by Jared Diamond: Collapse: How Societies Choose to Fail or Succeed. Diamond outlines the circumstances leading to past societal collapses (Easter Island, the Anasazi, the Vikings on Greenland, etc.) and then identifies the factors that contributed to the poor group decision making that caused the collapses.  The factors he identified are: (1) failing to anticipate the problem before it arrives, (2) failing to see the problem when it arrives, (3) failing to even try to solve the problem once it is perceived, and (4) trying to solve the problem but not succeeding.  

I'm particularly interested in the third factor: seeing the problem but not even trying to solve it. Why would a society see a problem that is likely to destroy it and do nothing?  Diamond proffers two reasons: the self-interest of those who expect to profit from societal destruction (i.e. selfishness) and the paralysis of those who worry that acting would contradict some deeply-held value (i.e. wooden-headedness). To these two factors, I would add a third: the fear of failure and the associated stress of waiting for outcomes.  This is akin to my mother's contention that that a preemptive jump off the ski lift might be a good way to alleviate her fear of falling..

Climate change, global poverty, religious hatred, and environmental destruction are daunting challenges.  I hope fear of failure doesn't stop us -- both as a society and as individuals -- from taking one step, then two steps, a hundred steps, a thousand steps to solve these problems.

What can an individual do?  Lots.  If you have money, give it.  If you have power, use it. If you're a consumer, consume wisely.  If you have a mouth, a pen, a computer keyboard, a billboard, or a bull-horn, make your views known. If you have a yard, a deck, or a porch, grow at least some of your own food.  If you eat food, buy local and preserve some of it.  Start with whichever of these things come easy to you and ease into the things that come harder. Repeat, repeat, repeat, repeat. Then repeat, repeat, repeat, repeat. As Winston Churchill said, "Never, never, never, never give up."  

And remember, there is no such thing as false hope.

Today's front yard critter count:

Raccoons: 1 of the teenagers (a little female)

Deer: 3

An Eagle and My Third Grade Teacher

This dignified two year old Bald Eagle flew away from the sign right after I took her picture.  She  proceeded to a small shallow pond nearby and gave herself an elaborate bath.  Seeing an eagle taking a bath in a pond feels a lot like being a child and seeing your third grade teacher in the grocery store.  Who knew they DID that?.

Today's front yard critter count:
Raccoons: 1 (Old Tailless Guy's Little Woman)
Deer: 5
Bats: 1

Question: Do you know any fun facts about Bald Eagles?

Answer: Yup. They're not as fierce as they look, they mate for life, their courtship displays can include locking talons and descending through the air in somersaults (!), and they love to eat salmon.  Eagle populations have made a comeback in recent decades due to protection programs including the banning of DDT and other pesticides.

It Was a Dark and Stormy Night

There are several easy-to-follow trails in the Big Woods but there are also significant portions of the woods that we haven't yet explored. This means that when I get off-trail there's a better than even chance that I'll get myself turned around and end up popping out of the woods, scratching my head in puzzlement, exclaiming, "Where the heck AM I and how did I GET here?"  As you might expect, Muttley the Dog dearly loves to get off-trail and lead bush-whacking expeditions through the salal and sword ferns.

This winter, Stu took Muttley for a walk in the Big Woods on a frigid, drizzly, and very moonless night.  Being a nice guy, Stu gave in to Muttley's plea to get off-trail. Stu figured that he had a giant flashlight in his hand, so what could go wrong? (Cue dramatic music.) 

After a considerable amount of trail blazing, up hill and down, over logs and around maples, alders, and firs, Stu and Muttley found themselves in some undetermined location in the Big Woods, well away from even a single photon of light from our house.  This is the point at which the flashlight accidentaly hit a branch, dropped to the ground, and flickered off.  For good. Click, click, click, shake, shake, shake, check the battery connection, check it again.  Nothing.  Zilch.  Zip. Pitch dark, raining, and getting colder.

Stu thought, "Oh, great, now what?" 

Then, "What a minute!  Muttley's a dog, he has a good nose, let's see if he can lead us home."  

Stu said, "Muttley, let's go home."  Muttley thereupon did an about face, stuck his nose on the wet leaves, and proceeded to unerringly re-trace their steps right up to the back door.

Stu and Muttley made it home safely because Muttley had actual knowledge and skill and Stu had the critical thinking skills to recognize that fact. I guarantee you, the outcome would have been entirely different  had I been the one leading the way home - we'd still be wandering around out there..

I think about this story frequently when I ponder politicians and talking heads with little more to their credit than good hair, a glib tongue, an aggrieved attitude, and a bloated sense of personal entitlement. As Paul Simon said, "these are the days of miracle and wonder."   Sadly, these are also days that require us to navigate through problems of climate change, global poverty and disease, religious hatred, and a worldwide population that may exceed the carrying capacity of the planet. 

Who are the Muttleys out there who will help us find our way home?

Today's front yard critter count:
Raccoons: 3
Deer: 0