Paradox

“One of the great dreams of man must be to find some place between the extremes of nature and civilization where it is possible to live without regret.”
—Barry Lopez



[Photo by N. J. Jackson.]

Taking Time (A LONG Time) to Smell the Flowers

I fell for this little daisy-hugger the other day and had to share him/her with you:

“Where’er he dwells, he dwells alone,
Except himself has chattels none,
Well satisfied to be his own whole Treasure.”
—From “The Snail” by William Cowper

[Photo by Audrey Green.]

Waiting For Every Day To Be Earth Day

“Knee-deep in the cosmic overwhelm, I’m stricken
by the ricochet wonder of it all: the plain

everythingness of everything, in cahoots
with the everythingness of everything else.”

—from “Diffraction (for Carl Sagan)” by Diane Ackerman

Saving Nature with Art

While reading about octopuses yesterday (and yes, it’s octopuses and not octopi—something about avoiding a Latin-Greek mashup in the currently accepted scientific taxonomy), I came across the ice sculptures of Basia Irland.

Before your imagination starts conjuring winter festivals or cheesy centerpieces on cruiseline buffet tables, look closely at the photograph. It’s a BOOK and it is complete with CONTENT.

Irland embeds her works with the seeds of plants indigenous to the particular river region from which she launches each book. As her books decay, they disseminate content and restore watersheds.

Watch an Irland-narrated video about her work on the Orion magazine Web site. Or explore the artist’s other projects on her Web site. If you’re a book or nature enthusiast, you’ll appreciate her innovative ecoactivism.

“[I]n Wildness is the preservation of the World.”
—Henry David Thoreau

Spring Is Sprung!

According to the calendar, Spring “opens” today—whether the weather is cooperating where you live or not.

“The first day of spring is one thing, and the first spring day is another. The difference between them is sometimes as great as a month.”
—Henry van Dyke

[Photo by Mark Hamblin.]

Drawing Conclusions

In reviewing my birthday greetings to Douglas Adams, I realize an explanation may be in order. I may have been unclear or, at least, I may have made some faulty assumptions about you, Dear Reader:
1. I assumed you already knew the comic and imaginative genius of Douglas Adams (creator of the radio series The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, which morphed into a series of novels, plays, comics, and a popular film; also the author of Dirk Gently’s Holistic Detective Agency, which became a TV series).
2.You knew he cared deeply about conservation (hence his fundraising for Save the Rhino and his nonfiction contribution to the cause, Last Chance to See).
3. You know climate change has imperiled polar bears.*

The photo of the polar bear is, in my mind, tragic—and I believe Adams would concur. I didn’t intend any connection between the word laughter and the precarious position of the bear. I hope I didn’t mislead you. I hope I didn’t cause you to laugh at the stranded creature.

Though Adams and his works are immensely quotable, I chose yesterday’s particular quotation because I’ve been awed by ignorance lately—flabbergasted at what people choose to believe about animals, Nature, corporate responsibility, natural resources, poverty, and climate change. I’m waiting for the scales to tip—waiting to be more frequently awed by insightfulness and compassion and intelligence that I may revere and emulate. Of course, it’s occurred to me that I could be waiting several lifetimes for this to happen, so I’ve been researching how best to cultivate understanding—specifically regarding animals—and how I may play my part in the cultivation. This means steeping myself in the mythologies, religions, and cultural practices that threaten understanding.

If you’re already on the front lines of this cause, please tell the rest of us how we may help.

“We are not an endangered species ourselves yet, but this is not for lack of trying.”
―Douglas Adams, in Last Chance to See

* With this on my mind at the library yesterday, I checked out Zac Unger’s Never Look a Polar Bear in the Eye: A Family Field Trip to the Arctic’s Edge in Search of Adventure, Truth, and Mini-Marshmallows. Unger set up residence in Churchill, Manitoba—“The Polar Bear Capital of the World”—to investigate the nature of the bears and the validity of the media reports about their demise. I’ll let you know what he discovers in a future post.

What’s Blooming Near You?

“The more clearly we can focus our attention on the wonders and realities of the universe about us, the less taste we shall have for destruction.”
—Rachel Carson

[Photo by N. J. Jackson.]

A Conclave of Cardinals

Birdsong near our building has grown more complex of late—meaning that birds are beginning to return to the area. We had a couple of prolific songsters the other day who I was never able to spot. I wish I’d had the good sense to record them so I could share their music with you.

My next-door neighbor’s backyard bush is Union Station to the avian population here and served me quite a treat this week: Eight Cardinals, a mix of young males and females, have been perching quietly there. EIGHT!

“I hope you love birds, too. It is economical. It saves going to Heaven.”
—Emily Dickinson

[Photo by Ken Thomas.]

An Old-Fashioned Sentiment?

“In the woods, we return to reason and faith.”
—Ralph Waldo Emerson

[Art by Tom Thomson.]

Rooting for Flower Power

After being trapped indoors for weeks now with bronchitis, I slipped outside yesterday for a short stroll in the sunshine. I was delighted to see what Nature had been up to while I moped around.

Color is sprouting! Snowdrops, crocuses, and dwarf irises are peeking out from the drab winter landscape.

Then the weather turned ugly last night—high winds, a cold front, precipitation that waffled between rain and snow. I worried about the bursts of miniature flowers I’d communed with earlier and thought this line from Barbara Kingsolver’s Flight Behavior was wise advice for them:

“Okay, look, you have to find your fierce.”

May color prevail.

Sharing the Stage with Groundhog Day…

Today is World Wetlands Day, a single day reserved to rouse awareness for the importance of wetlands—not just for the plants and creatures who reside in them, but also for the critters just passing through (like these Whooping Cranes migrating through Kentucky and searching for a resting spot).

You can spread the word about wetlands by sending a favorite someone an e-card.

“[T]he meeting of land and water…keeps alive the sense of continuing creation and the relentless drive of life. Each time I enter it, I gain some new awareness of its beauty and its deeper meanings, sensing that intricate fabric of life by which one creature is linked with another, and each with its surroundings.”
—Rachel Carson

[Photo of Purple Gallinule in the Wakodahatchee Wetlands by Jake Paredes; photo of migrating Whooping Cranes from U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service.]

If A Cat Can Do It…

Fridays are one of my favorite days of the week, because Friday is recycling/garbage day in my ’hood. On Friday, I feel cleansed and new for having LESS in my home, and I feel warm and happy knowing that I performed a good deed for the planet. (I fill my big recycling bin every week, whereas it takes two weeks or more to fill a single 13-gallon garbage bag.)

The city makes it so EASY for residents to recycle. So it bothers me to see some of my neighbors dumping plastic milk containers, cardboard boxes, and glass bottles into their garbage bins rather than into their recycling bins. Wouldn’t they feel better if they recycled? Maybe not as giddy as I get, but still…

I’d like to introduce them to Norman:
(If you’re a routine FreeKibbler, you probably saw the video already.)

I realize the video is a weird blend of PSA, advertisement, and public relations, but if a cat can learn to perform a dog-and-pony show like this, surely humans can figure out what belongs in the recycling bin.

Three cheers for Norman and anyone who recycles!

A Baker’s Dozen for 12.13.12

Thirteen words, that is, for the 13th of December.

“The invariable mark of wisdom is to see the miraculous in the common.”
—Ralph Waldo Emerson

 

Pictured  above is a Sweetgum fruit, from Deb’s Field Guide to Ohio Trees and Shrubs. These gorgeous, spiky little wonders of Nature fall plentifully on the sidewalks of my neighborhood this time of year. I used one as a tree-topper for a small magazine Christmas Tree; I’m tempted to collect a basketful of them and fashion them into a wreath. I can’t lay any claims to wisdom, but I’m full of appreciation for “the miraculous in the common.”

Eyes Wide Open

“We can’t enchant the world, which makes its own magic, but we can enchant ourselves by paying deep attention.”
—Diane Ackerman

The more I read, the more I realize that the world is constantly showing us its magic—which we either don’t recognize or simply fail to see.

Cat Urbigkit, author of Shepherds of Coyote Rocks, stays on high alert. Partially she’s always watching for potential trouble around her sheep. But mostly she’s in awe of Nature and documents the remarkable when it unfolds around her.

This fall, Urbigkit witnessed what some thought to be merely legend: a coyote and a badger hunting and hanging out together. Read her account (and see more of her photographs) on Querencia.

A View from the ’Hood

It may be the first of December, but as you can see in the photo, no one told the roses.

On a walk toward the grocery store, a tent sign stood outside near a dog groomer’s business. On one side, the sign read: Full Grooming Packages $45.00. On the other side was—well, you can see for yourself in the photo.

The groomer isn’t SELLING just any puppies but CHRISTMAS puppies! Ohsospecial. Like there aren’t enough puppies looking for homes already. I could go on about the pitfalls of trying to housetrain a pup in winter, but I’ll let it go.

Fortunately, to revive my good mood, there’s usually a splendid sunset to watch in the Bluegrass.

While We Walked

Each photograph here is from an autumnal stroll through our ’hood.

Some milkweed pods caught our attention one day and, upon closer inspection, my husband noticed the array of colorful bugs.

Hedge-apple trees were plentiful in the country when I was young and somehow they’ve stuck with me as something wholesome and good. Lucky for me I don’t have to travel to the country to find them anymore. Our neighbors have one in their yard! They create fall arrangements with the fruit.




This past weekend we walked down a street that was breathtakingly golden. The sun illuminated both the leaves still clinging to branches and those that carpeted the ground and sidewalks. Nothing but ginkgo leaves and fruits for an entire block, yet the street sign read “Catalpa.”

What do you see in your neighborhood this week?

The Leaf-and-Root Tribe

Hurricane Sandy made quick work of hundreds of grand trees across the East. I’ve read several blogs whose authors are embarrassed that in light of the widespread loss experienced by others, they lament the downing of their trees.

“For in the true nature of things, if we rightly consider, every green tree is far more glorious than if it were made of gold and silver.”
—Martin Luther

Martin Luther understands your sorrow. And so do I. I get teary-eyed every time a treetop here is butchered to clear a path for electrical lines or an elderly tree is cut down because it’s become a hazard or an inconvenience. Trees are a treasure to our planet. They clean our air, provide food and shelter, and impart beauty. That we feel bonded to the trees we know and respect their gifts shouldn’t be embarrassing. It’s only natural that we would mourn their life's end.

Indeed, those who made it through Sandy without losing their loved ones or homes or livelihood are fortunate beyond measure. Even so, they may still grieve the passing of Nature’s tall wonders.

[Photo from the Old Growth Forest Network.]

A Perfect Month

Take in the season as much as it lets you. Touch it, smell it, breathe it in. October never disappoints.

“Bittersweet October. The mellow, messy, leaf-kicking, perfect pause between the opposing miseries of summer and winter.”
—Carol Bishop Hipps

[Photo from Free Kibble; photographer unknown.]

Autumnal Pleasures

“I cannot endure to waste anything as precious as autumn sunshine by staying in the house.”
—Nathaniel Hawthorne

I’m with you, Mr. Hawthorne. Hence my spontaneous afternoon trip to a wildlife sanctuary on Friday. My husband and I chose a short hike through a meadow.

At first glance, it didn’t look like much. No trees boasting spectacular oranges and reds, no large, foraging mammals to watch.

But if you paid attention, the fields were full of subtle color and fragrance, and the air was alive with busy insects—myriad kinds of bees, butterflies, and grasshoppers. Transformations of texture surrounded us: bright flower petals were now downy seed transports, supple grass blades had become whispering dry stalks, once-green seed pods hung brittle and brown from trees.

Wherever you are, I hope you, too, get a chance to explore the sunshine and creations of the season.

When A Remake Won’t Do

This economy has driven many people into dire straits. Some have nearly folded under the weight of adversity; others have reinvented themselves.

If you’re somewhere in the middle—struggling with becoming that cloying, self-help symbol of transformation, the butterfly, and can’t achieve enough lift-off to finish the job of changing your life—then I have an easier visualization technique for you caterpillars in stasis.

I have a dream.

That is, I had a dream about a species of butterfly that doesn’t progress beyond the caterpillar stage. Just when this caterpillar can no longer sustain life as it is, instead of cocooning her/himself, s/he latches on to whatever might serve as wings—leaves, fabric, plastic bags—and flies.

In my dream, the butterfly that arrested my attention was as big as a dinner plate and having trouble flying. Its movement was arduous and erratic. This was largely due, I think, to the butterfly’s choice of wings: a sunny-side-up egg and a golden waffle from someone’s al fresco breakfast plate. Yes, the desperate butterfly I saw chose items of different weights and viscosity that kept him off-balance and made flight awkward. Yet he persevered, even with syrup dripping here and there. I couldn’t take my eyes off him.

Upon waking, this segment of my dreams seemed initially like a complete non sequitur. Yet the more I thought about it, the more I appreciated its appropriate symbolism.

I came to believe that the “breakfast-food butterfly” represented every person who’s ever been hobbled by something—be it financial woes, chronic illness, or emotional turbulence. Sometimes when you struggle against the odds, transformation isn’t in the cards. The most practical option is to make do with what’s at hand in order to get by, get on, get ahead.

Latch on to whatever propels you and rise. It may not be beautiful. It may be nothing you ever aspired to or even wanted, but it’s far better to make do than not do.

[Butterfly photographer unknown; graphic art from Skirt! magazine.]