Junior Varsity Football

                                                               

                               The score was 20 to 18 with 1:31 seconds to play as the opposing team took the ball on their own 16 yard line. A long pass to a receiver was caught and he ran to Warrens 20 yard line where he was tackled and made to fumble the ball...Warren recovered; Game over. That is him dejectedly walking back to his sideline knowing that he cost his team a potential last minute victory. Soon after both teams met midfield to shake hands in the traditional show of sportsmanship that defines amateur sports.
                               I played football for a few years in the late 1960's and nothing has changed in 50 years from that perspective of teaching young athletes the ups and downs of life. Sometimes you win, and sometimes you lose. This kid will remember this moment the rest of his life and so will the kid who caused the fumble and it's recovery. That's life. People around here do not much embrace the politically correct view of giving everyone a trophy simply for showing up. They recognize it for the BS it is and I suspect that sports still teaches a deeper reality regardless of the spin some people might want to put on life. In the future, this receiver will catch one and score and remember that both success and failure are temporary, and how he reacts to them will determine the character that describes his lifetime. While it is easy to become cynical of the corruption that infiltrates sports, they are nothing more or less than another pathway for the potential good that is the  challenge of every human endeavor.

 

Musings on life, and death

          Walking in Hearts Content woods today I slow to a saunter and exhale in the quiet shade of Toms Run Trail, thinking of life, and the pointlessness of so many things I once thought relentlessly important-sex, ambition. dreams-all the things that describe a normal human existence.  As death comes closer it seems that life is merely a recurring play recast with new characters, and nothing changes but for minor alterations of the plot. From that larger perspective we all step briefly onto a small stage and describe our roles in whatever terms we like, improvising with those around us but never able to affect major revisions to the unfolding drama. It is all vastly important to us in the moment but lost to time like all the rest of nature.
          The trail I am walking upon this hour is carpeted with last years leaves, now brown and decayed, while high above me is this summers growth fading to yellow and soon to fall. The unyielding force in being alive, that ebb and flow of life and death, is all around me, and I know I am a part of it despite my human tendency to ignore or separate myself. The decaying logs on the ground would appall me were they human bodies, yet I would become accustomed to them were they a common sight, and bones and flesh would seem no more remarkable than the moss and fungi and old leaves on the ground. We are all fodder for the earth more utterly than we are the kings of nations, and that is the reality we live and die upon. Perhaps pointless is not the correct title for this opera we each embrace, but repeating is certainly its theme if we are honest with ourselves. Only the young think that life is fresh and new, and that is a grand thing as it sustains them for many years.
           Being alive, we sometimes struggle against the inevitable decay, against the illness and sorrow and loss of everything we hold dear, yet it slips away from us all the same. We choose denial or avoidance or acceptance of those difficult truths, then choose love and laughter to make life a well rounded story regardless of the inevitable. We know there is always the curtain of death we cannot see beyond to tell us why we are here, yet that is never reason enough not to live well.
           As I gaze this hour into the hemlocks illuminated by the evening sun, into the soft light dispersed by gnats and threads of silk, I am made whole, and part of this world and the universe and my small stage within it. It is a stage that stretches far beyond me but everything I need is right here in front of me. I can see far enough to know that life is precious and the Earth a rare thing. It is Home and I am not separate from it. None of us are, regardless of the roles we choose. Always, from the perspective of the trees, the stage stretches beyond the roles humans play, with characters long dead and many to outlive us. I long ago decided that love and compassion are why we are here, and it does not matter who or what role we play so long as that is our mission.

Kettle Creek @ Buzzard Swamp

                                                        

    I hiked at Kettle Creek State park two weeks ago and came upon this bull elk sniffing the path about a hundred yards ahead. It was wholly oblivious to me so I whistled to alert it, after which it strolled nonchalantly up the slope behind it. This is the time of year that bulls assemble their harems, and in the next county the elk are somewhat tame, so one might see a bull with his harem of  females grazing a mere fifty yards from the road. This particular elk was alone and a mile from any other people or animals, so I suppose he was still looking.
    Hiking at Buzzard Swamp today the landscape is looking like early autumn, with red legged grasshoppers very common.This
Mourning Cloak butterfly will presumably survive through the winter, for this species enters diapause ( a form of hibernation) and is among the first butterflies to emerge in spring. The mating dragonflies are representative of several species active in the swamp now, and I recently learned that some dragonflies ( the blue darners for one ) migrate in autumn. Miniature radio trackers have found that at least one individual traveled over one hundred miles in 24 hours, following the wind current like migrating birds. Nobody yet knows where they go, or if they survive the winter somewhere.

    The milkweed seeds are of a kind that I have collected to plant at home, hopefully to provide more habitat for monarchs.

OBX and Buzzard Swamp, with a few Trump comments thrown in

    Beth and I spent a few days at the Outer Banks in N.Carolina last week, where we enjoyed the ocean and the company of friends. I love body surfing and the waves and weather were great...So yes, we are grateful and privileged to be able to indulge ourselves.
    Upon returning, I re-visited Buzzard Swamp where great blue herons and red spotted purple butterflies are common at this time of year. Unfortunately so are deer flies which made for a bothersome walk. The summer has been passed golfing and walking and fishing and other outdoor activities, then keeping up with the news when inside.........To the latter point I'm reading Kamala Harris' book called 'The Truths We Hold' about her life and passions, and I'm afraid it is unlikely that she will be elected president because she is simply too compassionate, principled and qualified a person for such an important office. For example, she never would have smiled with an orphaned baby for a photo op at the scene of a mass shooting as Trump and wife Melania did in El Paso... Hard to comprehend why such things do not register with his supporters...Generally it is fear and suspicion/cynicism of government/immigrants/ socialism that seem to motivate many Republicans despite many of them benefiting from the "socialist" policies of that very government they despise. ( Science has measured larger amygdalas in conservative brains, so their impulsive fear/anxiety may be partially biological? ) Hopefully Trumps trade war and other policies do not affect the global situation too severely. No doubt other countries and many businesses are simply waiting the election cycle out. I have read enough books to know that there are secret government programs that even the president does not know about.. In this case that's probably a good thing...POSTSCRIPT:  I watched Mr. Trumps United Nations speech and thought it to be one of the more controlled and rational speeches he has made. ( ...so long as he sticks to the teleprompter he does alright....) I actually agree with the aversion to war that he espouses despite his appointing war hawks to his administration, and to some of his arguments against China's unfair trade practices. But his environmental policies seem wholly backward looking and his denials won't stop the acidification of the ocean no matter how long or loudly they are repeated.

   The man is an emotional child in his core, the proverbial rich kid who has always gotten his way, hence the juvenile rants on Twitter. I'm not sure how history will rate this man-child, for I know intelligent people who tolerate a lot of stupid, immoral or shortsighted things from him, apparently in defense of something they believe in very deeply-abortion, or capitalism, or Christianity, or some other issue. As Politico explains it, newly elected representatives are separated as soon as they arrive in Washington, Democrats to one side, Republicans to the other, and from the start dialogue and compromise with opposing view points are discouraged, thus reasonable people either play that foolish game or quit.  Washington is as broken as healthcare and so we are witnessing the absurdities we are witnessing. Still, most Americans possess and adore their cellphones and pizzas and pickup trucks, so to many all is well. 

    

Iran..another letter to the editor

“I want to know what it takes to remember, when you know that you’ve heard it before, when a government lies to its people, and a country is drifting to war… I want to know who the men in the shadows are, I want to hear somebody asking them why, they can be counted on to tell us who our enemies, are, but they are never the ones to fight or to die..”

      So Jackson Browne wrote in 1986 in his song “Lives In the Balance” and so it applies to Mr. Trump, Mr. Pompeo, Mr. Bolton and all those behind the scenes people who are currently manufacturing a war with Iran. Has this country learned nothing since the Bush administration and the horrendous mess we created in the Middle East with the lies of that era? What will it take for mostly white middle age men to acquire emotional, ethical and moral wisdom?  Is this primarily a Republican disease- to hide behind fragile egos to defend violence of horrific proportions? Are these the same people who will fight tooth and nail to defend unborn embryos yet think nothing of slaughtering thousands of foreign children and babies in the name of American justice and democracy?  So Mr. Trump has  withdrawn from a nuclear deal that more thoughtful people in the world considered to be working, and now seeks to provoke another war-or, at least, to expand it to another front in that part of the world.

    And who will be one of our most loyal allies? Saudi Arabia, a nation that oppresses its female population and whose leader Crown Prince Mohammad bin Salman sanctioned the murder of journalist Jamal Khashoggi. This should not be acceptable to a civilized nation that claims to be the champion of freedom and justice. When a government drifts away from truth and facts and loses its moral compass, it becomes imperative for people of character to defend what is right and just for All people-not merely those of one particular nation or another. To do anything less is to equate ourselves with those nations we claim to be ‘demonic axis of evil’.  The common person in Iran wants to live as much as the common American, but is subject to the same propaganda from those in power as Americans are- which makes facts and critical analysis all the more precious. Centuries ago the world embraced the scientific method to sift Truth from the dark ages of ignorance, and that careful scrutiny is needed now more than ever. Be sure you have the facts before supporting anything so vicious as war, or anything else that affects the planet.

Woods Walk

Walked a few miles atop a mountain near town in which the woods undergrowth is mostly ferns. They are an extremely successful species having originated some 360 million years ago and in the modern forms for some 145 mya.  The permanent puddles are filled with peeper tadpoles and one other larger species-probably a wood frog. The truck has been rotting in that spot ( about a mile from the road) for as long as I have been living here-13 years-and no doubt longer than that. It takes decades for nature to reclaim the metal, and without road salt accelerating the rust, it might be most of a century. This was just another walk, filled with dusky skippers, a few bothersome deer flies and a good hard climb. I have had thousands of such walks with nothing out of the ordinary happening yet filled with the benefits of both nature and physical exercise. They fall away from my conscious memory unless preserved in my journal or here, but I presume they have lodged somewhere in my subconscious. There is a certain well earned serenity I enjoy that I suppose has come now that the anxious lessons of youth have been experienced, and I feel fortunate that I yet have the health and freedom to walk where and when I like.

Buzzard Swamp in spring

   It has been almost six months since I walked Buzzard Swamp, where back in November there were bald eagles and the first dusting of snow. Two days ago tree swallows were common and I noticed this robin egg in which an unfortunate fly had become stuck in the yolk while trying to have a meal. Those swallows look cold but the temperature was in the mid sixties so their huddled appearance is misleading. Geese and red wing blackbirds were also abundant in the open marshy fields, as were angle wing butterflies and a few cabbage butterflies. It is still early spring here with an incomplete canopy and the first blossoms like dandelion, adders tongue, violets and mustard.