Seamus Heaney tells us "Don't be afraid"

This morning we read a warm, lengthy and caring portrait of Seamus Heaney, 1995 Nobel Laureate, Irish poet and family man. It was in the US edition of The Guardian, titled Seamus Heaney’s family on life with the great poet: ‘He was always just Dad at home'. If you follow the link and read the piece you'll find the origin of today's title. We find it fitting because it bridges, at least in our mind and heart, the history of Ireland's "troubles" with the troubles we're going through in our country these days.

darkened cobbles in a brook bed

Photo by J. Harrington

As we tried to read the photo of Heaney's handwritten original "Trout," we decided to see if a more legible version was available online. That lead us to a resource, previously undiscovered, Connecting with Seamus Heaney, an exploration of the style, content and composition of many of Heaney's poems. We're at least doubly delighted because of the mention of Heaney's writing about rivers and that the "Connecting" resource "is written so as to be accessible to students whose first language may not be English." That offers a bridge to events happening today throughout our country - protesting the treatment, especially the separation of families, of immigrants seeking asylum from the dangers of living in their countries of origin. It also mirrors, a bit, the unfriendly relations between the English and the Irish over an extended period.

Fortunately, the poems included in "Connecting" include Heaney's Anahorish, which we first encountered in The River's Voice anthology. We'll read the "Connecting" material carefully to better understand what Heaney is saying in that poem, something that eluded us in our first (and second) readings. This experience has definitely been an example of the old saying that "the joy is in the journey, not the destination." If we exchanged Heaney's "place of clear water" to a "place of salt water," we might well be describing our own boyhood.

Anahorish 

Seamus Heaney

My 'place of clear water,'
the first hill in the world
where springs washed into
the shiny grass

and darkened cobbles
in the bed of the lane.
Anahorish, soft gradient
of consonant, vowel-meadow,

after-image of lamps
swung through the yards
on winter evenings.
With pails and barrows

those mound-dwellers
go waist-deep in mist
to break the light ice
at wells and dunghills. 

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Hot? Under the collar?

If we average a 95℉ Summer day with a -25℉ Winter day, we have an average 60℉ day. Unfortunately for our comfort, Minnesota tends more toward days at either extreme than near the more comfortable average. Temps over 90 today would heighten the appeal of standing up to our waist in a cool trout stream, but strong breezes from the Southeast encourage us to settle for A/C instead of waving a fly rod and ducking a fly line.

Southern Minnesota stream

Photo by J. Harrington

While sitting in our cool A/C'ed air, we submitted comments to the Minnesota Pollution Control Agency in support of having a full-fledged Environmental Impact Statement prepared for a proposed "4,980-sow swine farrowing facility in southeastern Minnesota’s Newburg Township in Fillmore County." If you're not familiar with Fillmore County, it's home to a number of trout streams. Much of the geology is karst. The county already has noteworthy risks to its water supply. The potential benefits a large farrowing facility would seem to offer appear to be limited to a very few and any risks and detrimental consequences to many ("the public"). We, as a state and a society, need much better ways to manage the siting and operation of extractive industries and/or those that create environmentally-unacceptable risks.

Northern Minnesota stream

Photo by J. Harrington

We reached such a conclusion as we learned this week that one of the reasons the Public Utilities Commission approved Enbridge's Line 3 "replacement" is they have no authority to shut down an old, corroded, high-risk facility like the existing line. We hope that, when the dust settles some day, we'll no longer have a system that privatizes profits while leaving a disproportionate amount of the risks and cleanups in the public sector. The current system means that all taxpayers now subsidize costs that should be incorporated into the price of the product. Given a choice, we think we'd prefer socialism. It seems fairer.

As things seem to stand at the moment, the natural resources, especially trout streams and wild rice, in the Northern part of the state are at risk from oil pipelines, potential copper-nickel mining and flash-flooding from intense rainstorms associated with climate change. Souther Minnesota is grappling with oversized hog farm proposals, frack sand mining, and agriculture that's more like industry than family farming. Pardon us if we seem somewhat disheartened at the prospects of what should be legacy treasures for our children and grandchildren being sacrificed for short term profits for a very small number of people.

The Song of Wandering Aengus

W. B. Yeats, 1865- 1939

I went out to the hazel wood,   
Because a fire was in my head,   
And cut and peeled a hazel wand,   
And hooked a berry to a thread;   
And when white moths were on the wing,
And moth-like stars were flickering out,   
I dropped the berry in a stream   
And caught a little silver trout.   
   
When I had laid it on the floor   
I went to blow the fire a-flame,
But something rustled on the floor,   
And someone called me by my name:   
It had become a glimmering girl   
With apple blossom in her hair   
Who called me by my name and ran
And faded through the brightening air.   
   
Though I am old with wandering   
Through hollow lands and hilly lands,   
I will find out where she has gone,   
And kiss her lips and take her hands;
And walk among long dappled grass,   
And pluck till time and times are done,   
The silver apples of the moon,   
The golden apples of the sun.

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As June winds down, Summer deepens #phenology

This morning we enjoyed June's full moon, the one the Ojibwe call Odemiini-giizis (Strawberry Moon) in their western dialect and Baashkaabigonii-giizis (Blooming Moon) in their eastern dialect. Fields full of ground fog and misty moonshadow created us and the dogs as we took a post-breakfast (for dogs) pre-breakfast (for us) constitutional. Yesterday, those same fields had held a couple of monarch butterflies under a bright June sun. Later this morning, for a brief while, the early mist condensed onto the house's windows.

the Strawberry moon of June

Photo by J. Harrington

As we were rehanging the front bird feeders this morning, we caught a glimpse of a white flag scooting through the understory and noticed a fresh hoof print in the soil under the feeder. A whitetail was cleaning up the sunflower seeds spilled by grosbeaks and missed by squirrels and wild turkeys. By midday now we're in the midst of mid-Summer warmth and humidity. Thunderstorms are in the forecast for the next several days. Deerflies are abundant, as are "no-see-ums" or something suspiciously like them. As we approach the pre-July 4th weekend, we find ourselves and the world in which we live sliding deep into the state of Summer.

misted window from morning's mist

Photo by J. Harrington

For some time now we've had a growing conviction that we would benefit greatly if we could find a way to temper our current culture with a moderate to large dose of Native American perspective and their relationship to the earth and our fellow inhabitants. This morning we encountered a resource, one which we've not yet had time to read, that may be helpful in achieving such moderation. There's a new web site, Reclaiming Native Truth, that we're looking forward to exploring and probably working toward. You might find it rewarding to explore if you're interested in helping transform our culture and economy to a one that functions on a sustainable basis. (We were tempted to write "more sustainable" until we realized something is either sustainable or not. Yoda might well claim "Sustain or not sustain. There is no more.")

We did manage to confirm yesterday, while setting the pocket gopher traps, that the pear tree is loaded with small pears. On our way to set those traps and check the tree, we noticed a couple of ripe, wild, very tiny strawberries. That helps us confirm the accuracy of the Strawberry Moon this month, with out relying on growers of cultivated strawberries and their planting schedules.

Strawberries

by Edwin Morgan

There were never strawberries
like the ones we had
that sultry afternoon
sitting on the step
of the open french window
facing each other
your knees held in mine
the blue plates in our laps
the strawberries glistening
in the hot sunlight
we dipped them in sugar
looking at each other
not hurrying the feast
for one to come
the empty plates
laid on the stone together
with the two forks crossed
and I bent towards you
sweet in that air
in my arms
abandoned like a child
from your eager mouth
the taste of strawberries
in my memory
lean back again
let me love you 

let the sun beat
on our forgetfulness
one hour of all
the heat intense
and summer lightning
on the Kilpatrick hills 

let the storm wash the plates

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The copper mining conundrum

As we've noted elsewhere at other times, we live in the Southern end of Minnesota's Eighth Congressional District. A number of national observers have rated the contest to represent the human inhabitants of the district as highly competitive ["toss-up"]. We'd be able to relax and just vote a straight Democratic ticket were it not for copper-nickel mining and the positions some otherwise acceptable, even laudable, Democrats have taken on that subject.

whether downstream of PolyMet or Twin Metals, this is worth protecting

Photo by J. Harrington

Our incumbent congressman isn't running again, but he's been largely responsible for legislation that would ignore due process and use legislation to save the PolyMet mine forward in the St. Louis River-Lake Superior watershed and to assist in reinstating copper mining leases for Twin Metals in the Boundary Waters watershed. [Actually, he's the running-mate of one of the current Democratic candidates for governor, who is now serving as Minnesota's Attorney General.] Each of Minnesota's Democratic senators has supported legislation to give PolyMet land at values that are said to not adequately reflect the minerals values of the property. Here's a worthwhile summary of the candidates for the upcoming Democratic primary election. We don't want to see the Republicans flip this district. Neither do we want to see the district represent by someone willing to accept that copper-nickel mining can be safely done under today's environmental regulations, nor leave taxpayers shortchanged of the true value of property by substituting legislative maneuvers for judicial consideration.

The significance of the PolyMet legislation has increased now that there are several "Lawsuits on mining leases near BWCA resist governance by memo and whim." It takes no great feat of imagination to anticipate that the same Democratic powers that would support foreign mining interests over local businesses and environmental quality for PolyMet could use a comparable approach to support Twin Metals.

The Eighth Congressional District went heavily for Trump in 2016 and could end up supporting a Republican candidate for congress. We certainly hope not, but would be almost as dismayed to have one of several of the Democratic candidates win. Perhaps this is our roundabout way of concluding that we really need both ranked choice voting and a political party that is pro environment as well as pro working people, more than pro corporations and their PAC donations. Maybe that's the way it is in some other universe. But then, there's outcomes such as Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez's to give us hope, even though there are no social democrats running in Minnesota in 2018. We're convinced that the same old Democratic party is not speaking to enough of today's issues to be successful far into the future.

The Obsoletion of a Language

By Kay Ryan

We knew it 

would happen, 

one of the laws.

And that it

would be this

sudden. Words

become a chewing

action of the jaws 

and mouth, unheard

by the only other

citizen there was

on earth.

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'Tis all part of the circle game #phenology

Today's weather has been cloudy, dreary, damp with occasional showers. It pretty well matches our mood, although occasional sightings of both the male and the female Baltimore orioles and several hummingbirds at the feeders brightened our day a little. We find it hard to believe that Summer is almost one third gone this year.

swamp milkweed in bloom, with visitors

Photo by J. Harrington

Based on our photos, the swamp milkweed, or at least some of it, appears to have been planted in 2016. We're not sure if last year someone mowed too close early in the season and did it in or if last year was just an off year for it. Slowly but surely we're coming to accept the fact that nature is organic and somewhat(?) irregular, not linear and mechanical. Anyhow, we hope that soon any nearby monarch butterflies will be happy to find the swamp milkweed blooms.

later July pears

Photo by J. Harrington

Pears might be starting to show on the tree. We'll take a close peek when we go out to poke and prod for the active pocket gopher tunnel we think we discovered during the grass cutting of the past couple of days. There are so many gopher mounds it's a challenge to find the current ones.

One of the reasons we're probably more Eeyoreish than usual this week is that one of our favorite writer/poets passed away recently. Donald Hall, of Eagle Pond Farm, New Hampshire (who was married for years to another favorite poet of ours, Jane Kenyon, also gone too soon) had recently published Essays After Eighty, on the trials, tribulations and joys of aging. It strikes very close to home for this of us also growing long of tooth. In remembrance and anticipation, we'll put aside some of our current readings and, for the rest of June, pick our way through some of his shared wisdom and insights about the aging of man.

Ox Cart Man

Donald Hall, 1928- 2018

In October of the year,
he counts potatoes dug from the brown field,
counting the seed, counting
the cellar’s portion out,
and bags the rest on the cart’s floor.

He packs wool sheared in April, honey
in combs, linen, leather
tanned from deerhide,
and vinegar in a barrel
hoped by hand at the forge’s fire.

He walks by his ox’s head, ten days
to Portsmouth Market, and sells potatoes,
and the bag that carried potatoes,
flaxseed, birch brooms, maple sugar, goose
feathers, yarn.

When the cart is empty he sells the cart.
When the cart is sold he sells the ox,
harness and yoke, and walks
home, his pockets heavy
with the year’s coin for salt and taxes,

and at home by fire’s light in November cold
stitches new harness
for next year’s ox in the barn,
and carves the yoke, and saws planks
building the cart again.

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Democracy: at risk of failure?

Please first follow the links and read:

• David Schultz' Was Trump right: Could Minnesota flip in 2020?

• Then this series on Twitter: Blue Wave Democrats better have a coping strategy for November. ["Voting is necessary, but not sufficient."]

• Followed by this series on Twitter from David Roberts. ["The Very Serious People who serve as tone police in DC need to decide what they value more: democracy or civility."]

We don't have a clear exit from the swamp our country is drowning in, we're only learning to read a compass. We do know that we're seeing frightening levels of inconsistencies in the world, country, society we inhabit. The "shining city on the hill" is lost in an unbelievably thick fog. We have truly lost our way as a country, unless we are willing to live in the "United Corporations of America."

endangered: both the symbol and the reality of America

Photo by J. Harrington

Here are some key points of what we believe we do know:

• The conversation has become too shrill.


• We lack the necessary skills to effectively communicate with and compromise with each other.


• We lack leaders who will put the common good above personal and party advantage.


• A constitutional convention is very unlikely to turn out any better for democracy than Citizens' United did.

There are these reasons for hope that we've come across in the past few years:

• Miriam Horn's Rancher, Farmer, Fisherman.


• See how hunters, anglers and outdoor recreationists are trying to come together with energy developers to create responsible energy development.


• Explore The Next System Project.

Neither our economy nor our culture can function, let alone thrive, based on deviousness and untruths. We need to learn that we all have a stake in the outcomes of our political battles. Politics needs to return to some version of the  Marquis of Queensbury rules for politics. The alternatives, as we see them, are living in a totalitarian state or a state of anarchy.

The issues aren't limited to the US. Britain is floundering, from what we've read, with managing Brexit. We've read that foreign interference has exacerbated problems at home and abroad. What Americans, with few exceptions, are willing to live under a puppet government? Let us not make the perfect for some the enemy of the good for all.

For You O Democracy

By Walt Whitman

Come, I will make the continent indissoluble,

I will make the most splendid race the sun ever shone upon, 

I will make divine magnetic lands, 

                   With the love of comrades, 

                      With the life-long love of comrades. 

I will plant companionship thick as trees along all the rivers of America, and along the shores of the great lakes, and all over the prairies, 

I will make inseparable cities with their arms about each other’s necks, 

                   By the love of comrades, 

                      By the manly love of comrades. 

For you these from me, O Democracy, to serve you ma femme! 

For you, for you I am trilling these songs.

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Orange you glad it's Summer? #phenology

While out cutting grass (and weeds) today we saw what we think is the first monarch of the year. It may have been a viceroy, all we caught was a quick glimpse as we ducked some tree branches to avoid getting knocked off the tractor. We've got lot's of milkweed on the property, most about knee high and starting to develop flower buds. We're also pretty sure we're not near the Northern edge of the monarch's range, so we're a little confused about the relationship(s) between local appearances and milkweed development. The Better Half claims to have seen one or more monarchs within the past week or so, but we don't believe those sightings were local.

monarch butterfly on Northern Plains  Blazing-star

Photo by J. Harrington

There's a patch of boneset and some other wildflowers at the North edge of the back yard, being encroached on by our feral oregano. (What, other than humans, eats oregano? Chickens? The Better Half wants chickens. Here's a potential use for the oregano that's trying to take over the planet from our yard.)

roadside daylilies

Photo by J. Harrington

Day lilies are beginning to flower. We have some wild strawberries and raspberries that we're trying to avoid mowing or pulling in hopes we'll be able to harvest some fruits.

The male Baltimore oriole shows up at the grape feeder. Hummingbirds are using all three feeders, joined on occasion by orioles and downy woodpeckers.

Blueflag (wild iris) and swamp milkweed, plants we started a few years ago around the back yard "wet spot," and thought had been lost, are now blooming (flag) and coming into flower (milkweed).

“Wild Strawberries”

- Shel Silverstein

Are Wild Strawberries really wild?
Will they scratch an adult, will they snap at a child?
Should you pet them, or let them run free where they roam?
Could they ever relax in a steam heated home?
Can they be trained to not growl at the guests?
Will a litterbox work or would they leave a mess?
Can we make them a Cowberry, herding the cows,
Or maybe a Muleberry pulling the plows,
Or maybe a Huntberry chasing the grouse,
Or maybe a Watchberry guarding the house,
And though they may curl up at your feet oh so sweetly,
Can you ever feel that you trust them completely?
Or should we make a pet out of something less scary,
Like the Domestic Prune, or the Imported Cherry,
Anyhow, you’ve been warned and I will not be blamed
If your Wild Strawberry cannot be tamed.

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It chore seems like Summer!

What with one thing or another, including a need to respray some poison ivy and begin collecting last Winter's downed branches, the Summer Solstice bonfire is being rescheduled to celebrate Independence Day (not the movie, the Declaration) in a little more than a week. Meanwhile, we need to get caught up on more Summer chores. But first, some reading!

In hope and anticipation of one day again being able to feel as though this country is headed in a decent direction, today we picked up, at our local independent book store, a copy of Sarah Kendzior's The View from Flyover Country. It will be very interesting to see how it compares to Arlie Russell Hochschild's Strangers in Their Own Land, which we read a year or so ago.

Back to the outdoors front -- our challenge over the next few days is to learn (Yoda reminds us "Learn, or do not, there is no try") how to distinguish boneset from alyssum. We think we have some of each growing on the property but, thus far, only recognize "small white flowers." We've left a few patches of one or the other or both as we cut the "grass" this month and it's time, with all our rain and misty mornings, to mow again. As an aside, crown vetch has come in along most of the roadsides during this past week.

boneset? (white flowers)

Photo by J. Harrington

alyssum?

Photo by J. Harrington

Mowing

Robert Frost, 1874- 1963

There was never a sound beside the wood but one,
And that was my long scythe whispering to the ground.
What was it it whispered? I knew not well myself;
Perhaps it was something about the heat of the sun,
Something, perhaps, about the lack of sound—
And that was why it whispered and did not speak.
It was no dream of the gift of idle hours,
Or easy gold at the hand of fay or elf:
Anything more than the truth would have seemed too weak
To the earnest love that laid the swale in rows,
Not without feeble-pointed spikes of flowers
(Pale orchises), and scared a bright green snake.
The fact is the sweetest dream that labor knows.
My long scythe whispered and left the hay to make.

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When "wild things" help bring peace

We don't know about you, but we've reached the point where we're afraid to watch or read the news AND we're afraid not to. This has been a tough week for the normal folks we know, but not nearly as tough as it's been for thousands of non-American children:

• those caught in the current regime's "zero tolerance" policy, and
• those other refugees, especially children, caught in conflicts throughout the world

We're severely disappointed at the Democrats lack of a coherent opposition to the regime's inhumane and irresponsible actions, especially in comparison to the harm done to our "national security" by foreign actors skewing the 2016 election.

This morning we were fortunate to get brief respite from the trials and tribulations of life under kleptocratic, authoritarian, wanna-be dictators. Shortly after sunrise, the "back yard" was visited by three whitetail deer does, one with fawn. As we watched them wander and sample food possibilities, we focused on a moment when it seemed theoretically possible that lions and lambs might be able to cohabit the same planet, if not lie down together. Here's a few glimpses.

two whitetail does, sans fawn

Photo by J. Harrington

doe and fawn

Photo by J. Harrington

fawn and doe and doe (look hard)

Photo by J. Harrington

It's way past time we (that's both the editorial and collective "we") paid much more attention to Wendell Berry.

The Peace of Wild Things

by Wendell Berry, Special Contributor

 When despair for the world grows in me
 and I wake in the night at the least sound
 in fear of what my life and my children's lives may be,
 I go and lie down where the wood drake
 rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
 I come into the peace of wild things
 who do not tax their lives with forethought
 of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
 And I feel above me the day-blind stars
 waiting with their light. For a time
 I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.

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Summer solstice #phenology?

The inimitable Joni Mitchell wrote and recorded a song that we often think of at these turning points of the year. We first heard it sung by Tom Rush on his album, named after the song, The Circle Game. Lyrics and guitar tablature are available at Mitchell's web site.

male Baltimore oriole at grape feeder

Photo by J. Harrington

We're not sure if it comes under the heading of phenology, but we noticed that, in our North Country, the Baltimore orioles returned to our feeders within a week of the Summer solstice, known as Litha by the Pagans and Celts. We'll go out on a limb (heh, heh) and suggest the bright orange of the orioles, matching the color of the sun's globe, makes the return seem timely for the celebration of Litha.

As climate change affects local phenology in different ways, we've not yet seen anything that suggests the timing of the equinoxes or solstices may change. Since earth's circle about the sun helps drive climate, and not vice versa, that makes sense. We've occasionally thought about relating our own area's phenology to the Wheel of the Year. The use of such a natural framework, superimposed over our Gregorian calendar, feels like a way to gain additional insight into natural patterns at a meso scale.

Today, in honor of the solstice, instead of our "typical" poem, we'll close with a solstice prayer. As we look about us these days, it occurs to us that each of us can all use all the prayers we can get. Enjoy the Solstice and the Summer.

may the sun bless us all, every day

Photo by J. Harrington

Litha Prayer to the Sun

The sun is high above us
shining down upon the land and sea,
making things grow and bloom.
Great and powerful sun,
we honor you this day
and thank you for your gifts.
Ra, Helios, Sol Invictus, Aten, Svarog,
you are known by many names.
You are the light over the crops,
the heat that warms the earth,
the hope that springs eternal,
the bringer of life.
We welcome you, and we honor you this day,
celebrating your light,
as we begin our journey once more
into the darkness. 

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#WorldRefugeeDay: karma, anyone?

Today is World Refugee Day. The country that is now known as United States of America was founded primarily by religious refugees. But you knew that, right? It just slipped your mind recently. Yet, this year, the regime currently governing the United States is, in our opinion, violating most of the ideals which the founders of this country honored in its establishment through, among other things, it's shameful treatment of refugees, especially vulnerable children. Many of us who were once proud to be Americans feel shamed and dishonored.

A former candidate, who lost the most recent presidential election by 3 million or so popular votes, won sufficient electoral college votes to become "president" and now has created and instituted a "zero tolerance" policy against many less fortunate than he or almost all of us are -- those who are seeking asylum in this country. Think about that for a moment. As we write this, that individual is visiting Duluth, a port of entry to this country. If he hadn't been born here, would we admit him, now that he's been accused of crimes against humanity?

Duluth, MN: a port of entry to the United States

Photo by J. Harrington

The last time we checked, we could find no evidence that any of us chose to be born. We had absolutely no choice of who our parents would be, what their circumstances would be, whether they would be rich or poor, what color their skin would be, what their religions were or of which nation they were citizens. These are all what we consider accidents of birth. Being born into this universe is a complete and total crap shoot.

Most parents want what's best for their children. Many want something better for their children than what they had growing up. It's considered "progress." Yet, among christians, there's the question "For what shall it profit a man, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul?" [Mark 8:36] Are we not close to that tipping point as a country, or have we already crossed it?

The universe in which we live is not a zero sum game, no matter how many folks may think it is. Nature not only abhors a vacuum, she does not support monocultures, except those artificially created by humans or those that support little life. Before we turned the prairie into row crops, the mixture of plants and animals was exuberant. Once we turned forests into lumber and ship's masts, we created  pine plantations, similar to row crops. Look at what's left of natural areas. Do you see single plants dominating?

Here's our view of a bottom line:

• We are all members of the human race.


• We are all citizens of planet earth


• We need to outgrow our overdeveloped sense of tribalism


• We share this world with a multitude of other species, on whom we depend for the foundations of life, clean air, clean water, healthy soil


• For the foreseeable future, there is no Planet B.


• We are failing, miserably, our responsibilities to husband (in the agricultural sense) and steward our life support systems.


• Unless we are among the indigenous peoples who, as afar as we can tell, originally left Africa to inhabit North America, we must live in a way that makes us native to this place


• Those not native to a place deserve the opportunity to become naturalized


• We must find a way to create a shared vision of the kind of world and the kinds of life we want for humanity. This is our shared home


• We would do well to remember who it was that said “And the King will answer them, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’
  

For the Children

Gary Snyder

The rising hills, the slopes,
of statistics
lie before us.
The steep climb
of everything, going up,
up, as we all
go down.

In the next century
or the one beyond that,
they say,
are valleys, pastures,
we can meet there in peace
if we make it.

To climb these coming crests
one word to you, to
you and your children:

stay together
learn the flowers
go light

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Where's an environmentalist to party?

Let's begin with our assessment that today's Republican Party is, at best, despicable and reprehensible. When last we checked, not one of them had signed as a co-sponsor of Sen. Feinstein's Keep Families Together Act. For that matter, several of our least favorite Democrats were very late to get on board. Using children as hostages and/or a deterrent is unacceptable and should, if we lived in a just world, carry severe penalties. But, that's not primarily what we're concerned with at the moment.

In fact, historically, some surprising Republicans have made major contributions to environmental and conservation legislation. This time around, such sanity does not look at all promising. Furthermore, too many Democrats, including Congressman Nolan and Senators Smith and Klobuchar, are abandoning long term environmental benefits to provide windfalls to foreign corporations. We are here referring to recent efforts to use political clout to forestall due process in the courts to facilitate the start of copper-nickel-sulfide mining in Northern Minnesota in the Lake Superior watershed and, possibly as part of future efforts, in the watershed of the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness. Several pieces of legislation passed by Minnesota's Republican-controlled legislature were signed into law by our Democratic governor. The local Sierra Club chapter's legislative scorecard as listed in the recent newsletter, lists three noteworthy losses.

Duluth Harbor, St. Louis River

Photo by J. Harrington

In the interest of full disclosure, we cannot recall a time when patience, forbearance. or tolerance have every been listed among our more sterling qualities. That no doubt helps explain why we're actively looking for an alternative to the Democratic Party. Here's the Minnesota Democrat-Farmer-Labor [DFL] party's environmental platform: [it's more readable at the linked document]

It apparently contains enough loopholes for Senators Smith and Klobuchar to feel comfortable supporting Glencore and PolyMet over local natural resource protection and assessment values that would reflect the value of the resources to be mined compared to the value of resources like the Boundary Waters and the St. Louis River that warrant protection. We're still looking for the mining project that hasn't polluted its watershed.

St. Louis River, Jay Cooke State Park

Photo by J. Harrington

We're also looking long and hard at an emerging alternative to today's DFL. There's a Movement for a People's Party. Included in it's plank on Clean Energy and Environmental Protection is this

Expand and improve public transportation and high speed rail to make commuting faster and cheaper, take cars off the road and reduce vehicle pollution. Raise clean air and clean water standards to save thousands of lives and hundreds of billions of dollars in annual medical costs. Preserve public lands and prevent resource exploitation in national parks such as the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge.

We don't want to get too nit-picky (us?) or split hairs about language use, but the Movement's language seems to us to be more straight forward than the DFL's.

We are very deeply troubled that the environment seems to have become collateral damage as the U.S. tries to win a race to the bottom, regardless of which political party prevails in any given election. We believe, more and more daily, that folks like James Hansen warrant more and better responsiveness from our governing institutions. We'll keep trying to push in that direction until we can't any more. At least those seeking asylum along our Southern border aren't looking for mining jobs, right?

Deportee
(aka. "Plane Wreck at Los Gatos")

Words by Woody Guthrie, Music by Martin Hoffman

The crops are all in and the peaches are rott'ning,
The oranges piled in their creosote dumps;
They're flying 'em back to the Mexican border
To pay all their money to wade back again

Goodbye to my Juan, goodbye, Rosalita,
Adios mis amigos, Jesus y Maria;
You won't have your names when you ride the big airplane,
All they will call you will be "deportees"

My father's own father, he waded that river,
They took all the money he made in his life;
My brothers and sisters come working the fruit trees,
And they rode the truck till they took down and died.

Some of us are illegal, and some are not wanted,
Our work contract's out and we have to move on;
Six hundred miles to that Mexican border,
They chase us like outlaws, like rustlers, like thieves.

We died in your hills, we died in your deserts,
We died in your valleys and died on your plains.
We died 'neath your trees and we died in your bushes,
Both sides of the river, we died just the same.

The sky plane caught fire over Los Gatos Canyon,
A fireball of lightning, and shook all our hills,
Who are all these friends, all scattered like dry leaves?
The radio says, "They are just deportees"

Is this the best way we can grow our big orchards?
Is this the best way we can grow our good fruit?
To fall like dry leaves to rot on my topsoil
And be called by no name except "deportees"?

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The orioles return #phenology

Sometime within the past few days, the Aldo Leopold Foundation < @aldoLeopoldFdn > shared this Tweet:

"Noticed Baltimore orioles have disappeared from fruit & jelly feeders? They change their diet to insects for more protein as they rear their chicks. Spot one of their "hanging basket" nests & look for adults feeding nestlings. Soon, the whole fam may visit your feeder! #Phenology"

 Today, as we were starting this post, a male Baltimore oriole arrived at our feeders. He drank some nectar from the hummingbird/oriole feeder and took a taste of grape jelly. His arrival, as foretold above by one of our favorite orgs, was a very pleasant surprise. We'd like to get his picture, since the only orioles we've photographed so far are females. Anyhow, maybe there is something to this phenology stuff? 😇

female Baltimore oriole at feeder

Photo by J. Harrington

We have no idea where the orioles' "hanging basket" nest may be located. There's a multitude of trees around here. That leaves us looking forward to the arrival of more orioles at the feeders. In fact, we'll put out fresh grape jelly tomorrow. The female rose breasted grosbeaks have been nipping at it from time to time and, with no orioles in sight until now, we saw little point in freshening the jelly since it was clearly a second choice, after sunflower seeds, for the grosbeaks. Some of the local squirrels check out the taste of jelly from time to time also. The dogs love to chase squirrels off the deck into the branches of the overhanging tree. The squirrels are safe until and unless the dogs learn to climb trees.

We hope our recent wave of overly hot, excessively wet weather (6" to 12" or more a county or two North of us) over the weekend hasn't disrupted your life. The claims of climate scientists, that climate change will result in more volatile, intense storm patterns, seem to be pretty well reflected by recent weather events. Sigh!

That Woman

Sarah Getty, 1943

Look! A flash of orange along the river’s edge--
“oriole!” comes to your lips like instinct, then
it’s vanished--lost in the foliage,

in all your head holds, getting on with the day.  
But not gone for good. There is that woman     
walks unseen beside you with her apron
  
pockets full.  Days later, or years, when you least    
seem to need it--reading Frost on the subway,    
singing over a candled cake--she’ll reach

into a pocket and hand you this intact    
moment--the river, the orange streak parting 
the willow, and the “oriole!” that leapt

to your lips.  Unnoticed, steadfast, she gathers      
all this jumble, sorts it, hands it back like 
prizes from Crackerjack.  She is your mother,

who first said, “Look! a robin!” and pointed,   
and there was a robin, because her own
mother had said to her, “Look!” and pointed, 

and so on, back to the beginning: the mother, 
the child, and the world.  The damp bottom 
on one arm and pointing with the other: 
       
the peach tree, the small rocks in the shallows,    
the moon and the man in the moon.  So you keep on, 
seeing, forgetting, faithfully followed;   

and you yourself, unwitting, gaining weight,
have thinned to invisibility, become
that follower.  Even now, your daughter

doesn’t see you at her elbow as she walks
the beach.  There! a gull dips to the Pacific,
and she points and says to the baby, “Look!”

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For Father's Day: fight family separation

Aldo Leopold's "shack" a gift to his family, and the world

Photo by J. Harrington

Children, please read this and help where you can, in honor of your fathers.

Here’s How You Can Help Fight Family Separation at the Border

Lawyers, translators, donations, protest.

Fathers, please read this and help where you can, for the sake of your children and every child.

Here’s How You Can Help Fight Family Separation at the Border

Lawyers, translators, donations, protest.

Happy Father's Day! Remember, only we can make a better world for all of us. This morning's thunderstorms might make today's poem a seasonal misfit but it wonderfully captures the distinction between a child and a man. Real men know how to love.

Those Winter Sundays

Robert Hayden, 1913- 1980

Sundays too my father got up early 
and put his clothes on in the blueblack cold, 
then with cracked hands that ached 
from labor in the weekday weather made 
banked fires blaze. No one ever thanked him. 

I’d wake and hear the cold splintering, breaking. 
When the rooms were warm, he’d call, 
and slowly I would rise and dress, 
fearing the chronic angers of that house, 

Speaking indifferently to him, 
who had driven out the cold 
and polished my good shoes as well. 
What did I know, what did I know 
of love’s austere and lonely offices? 

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Perspective for our times. Happy Father's Day?

No, we neither like nor agree with what's happening in these United States under the current ersatz regime. On the other hand, we've lived through 1968, and before that the assassination of a United States president and Watergate etc.

The "Pilgrims and Puritans" were religious dissenters from England who fled to the "New World" where they begged, borrowed(?), stole, and extorted land held in commons by the indigenous peoples. It's not that long a jump from treating "heathens" as subhumans, living in an inhabited wilderness, to slavery of African-Americans, "Irish need not apply," Japanese internment camps, boarding schools for Native American children, and a variety of other behaviors many of us find repugnant and abhorrent.

One of the more honest but optimistic perspectives we've encountered on the challenges and failures of trying to behave in accord with our better nature comes from Howard Zinn. If you think, looking at the current regime, "we're better than this," you're wrong, read Zinn. If you believe "this is not who we are," you're wrong, read Zinn. If Zinn's writings are too heavy for you, Walt Kelly, some years ago, created a slight variation for Earth Day that identifies the same source of many of our problems as Zinn writes about but should be readily grasped by anyone.

we have met the enemy and he is us

What Shall We Tell Our Children? An Addenda, 1973

By Margaret Burroughs

A lot of water has passed under the bridge since 1963. Then, my concern was particularly for my own people and this version was written especially for them. I am happy that it has done and is doing its job. However, I want it to be known, that I am not a proponent of the concept of cultural nationalism. I dearly love and am proud of my good, serious, sincere black people, yet at the same time, my concern is with all people of goodwill no matter the color. I make no mystique of blackness. I am a humanist. Indeed, I am a universalist. This truth, I know. The liberation of black people in the United States is tightly linked with the liberation of black people in the far flung diaspora. Further, and more important, the liberation of black and oppressed people all over the world, is linked with the struggles of the workers of the world of every nationality and color against the common oppressors, overlords, and exploiters of their labor.
                    Thus it was only natural that I should write "What Shall We Tell Our Children?" in 1973. I have tried to tell them the facts of life and the truth as I see it:
                    I hope I have succeeded.

What shall we tell our children who are black?

What shall we tell our children who are white?

What shall we tell children of every race and hue?

For all children are the children of all of us

And all of us bear responsibility for all children

What shall we tell them?

How can we show them the conditions of their lives

So they will see how they can change them?

Those who are poverty stricken in the midst of plenty

Who must live in rat-infested slums

While decent homes stand empty

Who go to bed hungry

While grocery shelves are heavy

Who huddle in tattered rags

While racks in stores are sagging

Who yearn for a good education

But languish in programmed illiteracy

Whose intellectual growth is stunted

And whose ignorance is compounded

While the Academies produce more drones for the labor colony

What shall we tell them?

How can we show them the conditions of their lives

So they will see how they can change them?

What shall we tell our children

The men and women of the future?

We shall tell them the truth

It is our bounden duty to tell them the truth

It may be painful. We must tell them the truth

We may be criticized. We must tell them the truth 

We may be castigated. We must tell them the truth 

The truth it shall be, shall show them the conditions of their lives

Of a glorified way of life, the greatest in the world

Which is not concerned with people, but with profits

Not with the well-being of many, but with the interests of a few

Not with the welfare and future of the people

But only with the profit-making present

We shall tell them the truth about a way of life

The greatest in the world

Where freedom and equality is granted to every man, woman, and child

Where everyone, providing he is willing to do what is necessary

Can become rich and wealthy by doing others before they do you

Where everyone, including you

Can acquire life's most important goodies

Like split-level houses, with wall-to-wall carpeting completely furnished 

And two cars and two color T.V.'s

And the latest style clothes and minks

And schminks and everything!

We shall tell them the truth

About a way of life

The greatest in the world

Which rejects the wisdom of its seers and sages

And whose culture is dictated and delineated by

Violent, vicious, destructive 

Murderous, unfeeling, crude

And quick on the draw supermen

Who deem the men and women of the future

As expendable and shunt them off to

Purposeless death in the name of patria and patriotism

Who slaughter the innocents who protest or speak for Peace

We shall tell them the truth

​We shall tell them the truth

About a way of life, the greatest in the world

Whose primal motivation is material acquisition

Wherein the majority of the people derive happiness

From having things which others do not have

Whose all high, omnipotent

All powerful Jehovah, Jesus, Lord

God, Allah and all Supreme

Is the adulated, sought after, live for,

Steal for, murder for, Almighty D-O-L-L-A-R dollar!

​We shall tell them the truth

About a way of life, the greatest in the world

Which manipulates and expends young lives

So that parasites may live and survive

Whose aim is but to acquire and kill

And kill and acquire again and again

At home and abroad and everywhere

​We shall tell them the truth

We shall urge them to examine their way of life,

The greatest in the world

Which deliberately depresses the conditions of life

Which offers no bright future

But instead keeps people in fear

Insecurity and in constant turmoil

Which decimates their ranks

With endless predatory wars

​We shall tell them the truth

About what life could be made to be

And how they themselves can help to make it

Bright, happy and secure. 

We shall show them that life

Is ever in motion, constantly going through

Processes of change, shall strengthen them in the belief

That it is possible for men and women,

For they themselves, for all of us

To live in harmony with our environment

And the Universe

Shall teach them that our knowledge increases

The more we gain control over our envirnment

And exploit it not for private gain but for our own happiness

We shall tell them the truth

We shall encourage them to expand their knowledge 

Of the known and the unknown

To destroy the cobwebs of superstition 

To find that there are no mysteries

Either in life or in nature

And that above all there is nothing to fear but fear itself. 

​We shall tell them the truth

Shall suggest this way of life

Can truly be made to be among the 

Greatest in the world

That through their own efforts

They can forge a new way

A superior way, a good way of life

Which is in harmony with the true purpose of life

Wherein the people themselves control the conditions of their labor

Wherein the people have the total benefits of their labor

And where men, women, and children

Live lives free from exploitation. 

We shall tell them that a way of life is possible

Wherein the people may own the means and tools of production

And use them solely for the abundance of the whole people

And not for the aggrandizement of a few

As in the old way.

​We shall tell them the truth

We shall arm them with the knowledge of how to survive

In an atmosphere fraught with danger and hostility

We shall urge them to heed

​The wisdom bequeathed to us by the elders

And to have faith. To have faith.

In people, in themselves and their fellow human beings

And to have respect and love for all of humankind.

​We shall tell them

​To keep the belief that the purpose of life

Is to continue to grow and create

And to contribute to growth and create

And to contribute to growth and

Creativity toward a better life

For people now and for generations to come

What shall we tell our children?

​We shall tell them the truth

We shall imbue them with the vision of the new tomorrow

Seemingly far, but yet so near

We shall tell them that they hold the power in their own hands

To make this new way

A reality in our own life time.

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