|Lake Mille Lacs with a "walleye chop"|
Photo by J. Harrington
I don't doubt that some leaders in the Dayton administration have heard of the precautionary principle. I often wonder if they try to follow it. Short-term economics can't continue to prevail over protecting the resource on which the economics are based. I equally wonder how political leadership could reconcile a "science-based" solution without reflecting the concerns of resource co-managers while simultaneously promoting the protection of Minnesota's water resources through a "water ethic" that we all adopt. Ethics are (common) value based at least as much as, if not more than, science based.
|North Shore, Lake Superior|
Photo by J. Harrington
Water is a renewable resource, not a limitless one. Protecting and managing a commons such as water, to be ethical, should be based on shared sacrifice as well as shared benefit and the fundamental value of the resource. I'll be more encouraged about the long-term prospect of success for a water ethic taking hold in Minnesotans when and if I see political leaders and resource management agencies reaching out to and working with all the stakeholders before a management decision is announced. I was
- Through yesterday, ruby-throated hummingbirds continued to arrive at the nectar feeder. None noticed yet so far today.
- Several turkey hens, plus their flocks of poults, the most seen so far this year, wandered through the yard mid-afternoon, leaving me feeling better about the wild world at large. We've become used to seeing a handful of flocks and, until yesterday, had seen only a couple.
- Yet another chipmunk late this morning headed for the sunflower feeder scraps. Since the Better Half's part border collie is fascinated, and frustrated, by these little critters that run away and climb trees, rather than let him herd them, I'll leave the have-a-hart in the garage for now.
By Raymond Carver
I waded, deepening, into the dark water.
Evening, and the push
and swirl of the river as it closed
around my legs and held on.
Young grilse broke water.
Parr darted one way, smolt another.
Gravel turned under my boots as I edged out.
Watched by the furious eyes of king salmon.
Their immense heads turned slowly,
eyes burning with fury, as they hung
in the deep current.
They were there. I fel them there,
and my skin prickled. But
there was something else.
I braced with the wind on my neck.
Felt the hair rise
as something touched my boot.
Grew afraid at what I couldn't see.
Then of everything that filled my eyes—
that other shore heavy with branches,
the dark lip of the mountain range behind.
And this river that had suddenly
grown black and swift.
I drew breath and cast anyway.
Prayed nothing would strike.
Thanks for visiting. Come again when you can.
Please be kind to each other while you can.