Swan Sanctuary

A few of the leaves on the tree, in my front yard, have already yellowed and fallen. It is one of the many subtle signs we often fail to notice because we are caught up in the forward motion of life. We are thinking about what lies ahead tomorrow, or next week, or next year; and we miss the moment that would have reminded us we are here now. 

Years ago, when I was in high school, my girl friends and I would skip school occasionally. We claimed that we needed a “mental health day”, convincing our mothers to sign the notes that would legitimately excuse us from school. One of my friends had a car, so often we would skip classes and go driving around the Red Rocks foothills, enjoying the sun and the breeze and the freedom from our dull and monotonous classes. It was easy then to let cares fly out the window and to just revel in being alive. That carefree life vanished quickly; however, as adulthood and responsibilities molded us into someone we no longer recognize. Life changes us moment by moment, year by year. If we are fortunate, we gather small nuggets of wisdom along our journey, like souvenirs collected from our explorations.

With each leaf that now falls from the tree, I know that the years of my life too, are falling away one by one. Like the leaves, the memorabilia that I leave behind will most likely be swept into a pile and forgotten about; but perhaps one day, a young person may come across a gem that I had dropped. They may pick it up and carry it in their own pocket for a while, or give it away, or drop it once again to be lost for eternity.

There are one of two ways we can show up in life, if we are of the animal kingdom; we are either predator – or prey. Human beings are usually at the top of the food chain where, as with chickens, we arrive at a pecking order. The predators among us fight to be the top predator, while the weaker ones become prey. For centuries, men have been the predators and women, their prey. Of course, we are not literally prey, but we are prone to giving in, giving up, and surrendering to our stronger male counterparts. Women can be predatory, as well. Regardless of sex, race, or background, it is those with the strongest constitution who succeed.

This does not mean that weaker souls cannot be successful. They often choose to accept a less prominent position in life. They are inclined to be content, to be at peace, rather than exert the energy to join the fight. They often withdraw, retreat, and take shelter because peace is all that they seek. Many may have started out as predators with the vim and vigor of youth. The illusion of invincibility may have empowered them to take risks; but eventually those who were bigger and smarter simply used them as a step ladder, to attain the heights for which they reached. Somehow, we all ultimately end up at the bottom, trampled and beaten, where we are easy targets for the alpha predators. Predators always go after the weak and the vulnerable because they are the easiest to bring down. Are you a predator – or are you prey? In the end it does not matter. Life eats life, becomes life, and is then recycled. It’s only life.

Scientists garner great respect from others. Through careful observations and study of our natural world, they draw conclusions which are then accepted as fact. It is believed that if something is proven to be true, it cannot be challenged. But, scientists are people and often create what is called human error. In other words, scientists can be wrong. In fact, Louis Pasteur became aware of his own mistake towards the end of his life and retracted his original hypothesis. It could not be proven.

I recently watched a delightful series on Netflix called Tiny Creatures. Every day, through hours and hours of observation and the help of hidden cameras, scientists have been able to glimpse into the private lives of many other species. Ravens, mice, rats, and squirrels have intelligence far greater than we have given them credit for. They know how to problem solve and reason, and some even use tools. It  has long been known that elephants, chimpanzees, dolphins, and even goats are capable of surmounting complex problems. They also have excellent memories. The truth is, all species on the planet, including us, are scientists learning to navigate the physical world with our senses and our brains, to ensure our survival.

The problem with modern science is that too often what is concluded and accepted, is later found to be erroneous. Scientists have attempted over and over again to solve a dilemma through scientific means, only to create a monster as they did when they brought kudzu to the south to try and “fix” an erosion problem. They have gone from merely trying to understand our world and to thrive in it, to attempting to control it. They have created numerous drugs, which later prove to cause serious side effects. They created the atom bomb and other weapons of mass destruction. And now, with all of their meddling, COVID19 has been released into the world.  

Science can be used for good or for evil. We must learn to take it “with a grain of salt”. We must bear in mind always, that we live in a world that is ever changing and what we conclude today, may look entirely different in tomorrow’s light.

Today’s blog is getting posted a bit late. I have spent the morning making signs to erect in my yard, to give away my excess organic produce. What was I thinking, when I planted four different colors of bell peppers? I am one person with a small appetite and cannot begin to use them all. Last year I made tomato soup, tomato sauce, and marinara sauce from my abundance of tomatoes; but with dwindling energy and no ambition to can or to freeze, I find that sharing is the way to go. Since I am living in the center of a small town, next to one of the busiest street corners, it seems like the right thing to do. 

When I was living in a small town in rural Virginia, I would often walk through town and notice that some of the residents set a table up next to the road, offering their surplus produce to passersby. Some of them had a price list next to the vegetables and simply trusted that people would pay for what they took. I had imagined for a long time that when I reached old age, I would sit at the street corner during rush hour and sell organic flower bouquets. This summer, I have realized that I really prefer not to cut my flowers. I grow them to create habitat for butterflies, bees, numerous pollinators, and hummingbirds. If I cut them, I will be radically reducing the food and shelter sources for those species that I have set out to attract. 

I do not have a lot of produce since my passion is growing flowers; but all the same, there is no point letting it go to waste. There are  hungry people out there and hungry children. If I can help out just a little bit and if it is well received, perhaps next summer I will grow more just to give away. Organic produce is expensive at the store so I know that what I give is even better than other commodities that they can get for free. While I could charge for my offerings, I will only provide a jar for any donations that may be offered. Eventually, I will be able to sell organic eggs, but my chickens will not begin laying until the middle of October at the earliest. Most likely, they won’t start laying until next spring. During these uncertain times, I have never been more thankful for my love of gardening.

Every August I am reminded of the fact that in spite of my best laid plans, in spite of the optimism I had in early spring, and in spite of all my gardening knowledge applied, there will be disappointments. There are so many variables in a garden that can lead either to success or to more lessons learned. Some plants may have produced an over abundance of crops, which can be sold, shared, given away, or even fed to the compost pile. Some seeds will fail to germinate and some plants, regardless of our best efforts, will simply fail to produce. Some years are better for one plant, but not for another. Above or below average temperatures, sufficient rainfall or the lack of it, the number of cloudy or sunny days, the presence of pollinators and beneficial insects, pest infestations, soil-borne diseases, hail, and wind all play a part in the outcome of the garden. We may have been diligent about weeding, watering, fertilizing, and staking. We may have had wonderful humus rich soil, used companion planting, and adhered to strictly organic methods. In essence, we may have done everything right, but some plants still failed to flourish. Or, we may walk out to the garden one morning to find that the chickens (or some other animal) had beat us to the harvest. Did I say chickens? Shouldn’t I have known better than to allow my chickens to free range in my garden? Yes and no.

When the chickens were only a few weeks old and I had only just begun to let them outside in a small, enclosed area, I saw hundreds of baby grasshoppers. Since I have been allowing the chickens to free range, I have not seen a single grasshopper. As they scratch and peck, they are eating nutritious herbs and weeds, building their health and immune systems. They are fertilizing my soil every day with their droppings and they are helping me to turn the compost. Most importantly, they are happy. It has been suggested that perhaps I am over-mothering my chickens. Is there really such a thing? As I continue to “chicken-proof” my garden, I am reminded of when I needed to “baby-proof” my home from the inquisitiveness of  a toddler just  learning to walk. Good mothering requires some discipline. My chickens are smart. They love me. They trust me. They let me pick them up and pet them. They listen to me when I talk to them and they are learning to stay away from certain areas when I clap my hands and say “no, no, no”. This August, as always, has been a mixture of successes and failures; but the joy of having my chickens keep me company while I am working in the garden, is priceless.

Due to the mandatory quarantining, social distancing, and the closing of many schools and businesses, there are many people feeling resentful of the isolation imposed on them. I would like to suggest that possibly we were more isolated before the pandemic. For the past several decades many moms have joined the workforce to make ends meet or to reach a level of success in their personal lives. Children have been dropped off at day cares while they worked, sometimes for ten or twelve hours a day. In between work and school, soccer and gymnastics, breakfast and bedtime, doctors appointments and birthday parties, families had little quality time together. Spouses, too, have been so busy working that there was little time for the people in their lives who really mattered. In many ways, this was true isolation. More time was spent with strangers than with loved ones. Their busy-ness allowed them the distraction from any guilt they may have felt for not spending more time with their own family.

The recent isolation of people in their homes, could in fact, be bringing them together. As people are forced to make changes and reinvent parts of their lives, they have the opportunity also, to re-evaluate what is most important. They may realize that their many wants and desires are merely burdens that they have been carrying around. They may decide to put those burdens down and enjoy the lightness and freedom that comes with living a life of simplicity.

How is life going to change over the coming months? What old ways of doing things could we salvage and what new ways could be implemented? One thing that has become increasingly prevalent is gardening. People who may never have considered it before are realizing that the availability of food could become scarce in light of the pandemic and other threats to our way of life. More people are spending time at home, giving them the opportunity to reevaluate what is truly important. They are discovering that their yards can be used to grow food, instead of lawns. Lawns require copious amounts of water (which makes no sense in arid climates that are already experiencing drought). Grass also needs constant applications of fertilizers and herbicides, where the runoff into waterways, causes algae blooms, fish die-offs, and numerous other problems. Far too many yards are filled with rock, in lieu of grass, where weeds grow through, and on top of, landscape fabric that has been tacked down beneath it. It then requires a constant dose of herbicides to kill the weeds. Lawn and rock offer nothing to us or to wildlife, other than it is pretty to look at. Enormous amounts of food could be grown in the yards of homeowners – enough to feed their families and the wildlife, too. Many veggies can be grown year round with the aid of cold frames and greenhouses. A few chickens can also provide essential protein from their eggs, as well as provide pest control to earn their keep.

I am not sure how the farmer’s markets are doing since the pandemic and social distancing requirements went into effect; but their popularity has been steadily increasing in recent years. They bring a sense of community and help to support local economies. In many parts of the world, it is common for people to buy their daily meat, fish, and produce at the market each morning. They are buying food at its freshest – food that requires no preservatives, and that will be used for that day’s meal.

There is a song by folk singer, Chris Smither, called No Love Today. The song was inspired by his memory of living in the deep south, when the produce wagon would make its daily rounds and all of the housewives would run out to get the best of the farmer’s morning harvest. Many people remember having their milk and eggs delivered fresh each morning where it was left in a box by their front door. Is it conceivable that we could return to some of these old ways? Could we have community markets where neighbors could buy, sell, and trade produce from their gardens? We do not have to be dependent on grocery chains for our survival if we are willing to explore both old and new ideas. Can we bring back the produce wagon and the milkman? What can we do in our own yards and our own communities to ensure a steady supply of fresh food?

There are two sides to every coin. There are at least two ways of looking at every situation. 

When something is right, it is for the benefit of all. When something is wrong, it benefits but one, or only a few, while causing harm to another. When a wrong is purposely committed, it is because the light has been blocked in the person committing it. Because the light is blocked, he cannot see the true nature of the act he commits. He does not perceive it as wrong. As we become more conscious, more light is able to permeate our mind and flood us with understanding. A new concept to our habitual way of thinking is often referred to as a light bulb being switched on.

Sometimes things happen that we immediately label as wrong, bad, or evil. From there, we want to find someone or something to blame. We conclude that we are a victim and that which caused the wrong (we believe) is bad. When the grasshoppers devastate our garden, we consider them to be bad. If a tornado shreds our home, or a river floods our streets, we call this bad luck. When a forest fire rips through our neighborhood or our business disappears in a mudslide, we see the events as terrible tragedies. But, the grasshoppers are only doing what grasshoppers do. They are feeding (on the monoculture we provided for them) to grow and to produce their young. Tornadoes are a frequent occurrence and sometimes, by chance, we happen to be sitting in their path. Floods, hurricanes, fires , avalanches, and volcanoes are nothing more than the earth doing what the earth has always done. A couple of months ago, I accidentally stepped on a large ant pile at the side of my yard, creating a large impression in the shape of my boot. I am certain that this caused the ants some stress and inconvenience; but within a week or two, they had rebuilt it to its perfectly rounded contour. We are millions of species and weather patterns living on a relatively small planet. Sometimes, we get in each other’s way.

COVID19 is one of hundreds, perhaps thousands of viruses. It is doing only what it was designed to do. In a world where life eats life and lives off of life in order that life may continue, there are going to be casualties – every moment of every day. We must be willing to see the other side of the coin. We can get caught up in labeling and caught up in fear; or we can accept what is. We can accept the changes that have been brought about. We can look for the good and take our cue from nature. Chaos causes breakdown and the subsequent rearranging from which new life begins to emerge. It allows the light to come in so that new possibilities can germinate. The phoenix rises from the ashes. What new paradigm will we create from the debris left behind in the wake of COVID19?

I cannot imagine not having the U.S. Postal Service. It has been struggling for several years now. Postage for a standard letter stamp in 1960 cost only $.04. Today it costs $.55 – nearly fourteen times the cost sixty years ago. In spite of the frequent rate increases, USPS has yet to get back on its feet. I love stamps. I am not a stamp collector, but I like to buy unique stamps to post my letters with, rather than using the plain ones that depict only the American flag. Over the years, I have purchased wild flower, frog, bird, and butterfly stamps; as well as the special ones that are created for the holidays. It gives my letters a special touch, which is especially nice if you are mailing someone a card. 

I have often marveled at how dependable the postal service is – and how fast. I could mail a letter to someone in the same town as me and they would receive it the next day, or mail it across the country and it would arrive in as little as two days. This is remarkable when a hundred years or more earlier, it could take several days or weeks for mail to travel to its destination. There have been only a very few times in my life that I had something I had mailed get lost, which is a pretty impressive track record. It was always delightful to open the mailbox and find a letter from a loved one or a friend. The house I owned while raising my three daughters had the mail slot next to the front door, so I never had to walk out to my mailbox in inclimate weather. I loved that! However, with increases in population, private mailboxes have been replaced with community boxes, in a central location, in the newer subdivisions. 

Over time, as long distance phone calls became more affordable, letters became fewer and farther  in between. We began to see  a stream of junk mail and advertisements, and the ubiquitous “you are pre-approved” credit applications. Gone are the days when you walked to your mailbox with a sense of anticipation, hoping for a letter from a friend. Today, we find only a handful of weekly ads, most of which end up in the trash.

I once took a test when I was in my early twenties, that was required in order to become a postal service employee. I could not pass the test. They did not hire just anybody; they hired only those who had the necessary qualities to deliver large volumes of mail to the correct address, consistently and on time. I thought that the postal carriers who could actually walk from house to house, or business to business, to deliver mail, had one of the best jobs around. Their uniforms even included shorts for the hot, summer months. It probably was not much fun; however, whenever it was snowing with freezing temperatures and wind.

The days of the U.S. Postal Service may be numbered. Its future will be very different, if it manages to stay in existence. It has been in operation for  more than two centuries. I for one, will be sad to see it go. I enjoy the ability to send emails, to text message, and to FaceTime, but the individual personality that goes into the writing and receiving of a handwritten letter, is irreplaceable.