Tuesday, July 31, 2018

Sustainability delayed is sustainability denied

This morning we downloaded the Mining Association of Canada's 2017 Towards Sustainable Mining (TSM) Progress Report. As we were browsing the contents, we wondered if Minnesota and Minnesotans might ever benefit from a similar comprehensive overview of mining company activities. Here's a link to Minnesota Department of Natural Resources Division of Lands and Minerals publications page. We couldn't find any performance reports there. The Division also has a 2017-2027 Strategic Plan. We didn't notice any reference to performance measures for mining there either. In fact, none of the links on the Division's home page look promising if one were hoping to learn about the overall impact of mining, both ferrous and non-ferrous on Minnesota. If anyone can point us toward anything like the MAC's report, please do so.

2017 Towards Sustainable Mining (TSM) Progress Report
why doesn't Minnesota have one of these reports?

The Minnesota Pollution Control Agency's web site also has a page on Mining. Lots of interesting looking links there, but noting we noted that appears to lead to any kind of mining performance report.

Minnesota state government also has a Minerals Coordinating Committee [MCC] web page. The MCC was created "To provide for the diversification of the State's mineral economy through long term support of mineral exploration, development, production, and commercialization".  Their web site has a page to facilitate "Doing Business in Minnesota," but no report we could find on the impacts of mining on the state's resources, environment or people.

There's nothing on the Minnesota Department of Commerce's web site that would lead one to look for the performance of the mining sector in Minnesota. The Minnesota Mining web site makes some general statements about compliance with Minnesota's strict environmental standards, but no report on how any mines have actually met standards and what those standards are. WHY HASN'T MINNESOTA MINING PROPOSED PROCESSES, STANDARDS AND REPORTING COMPARABLE TO CANADA'S TOWARD SUSTAINABLE MINING? Is Minnesota becoming "low-hanging fruit" in the international mining sector, or has it already attained that status?

There are at least two noteworthy aspects of Canada's TSM approach that we admire. First, it involves representatives from a broad spectrum of interests (Community of Interests) in an oversight and confirmation role. Second, they've been at this for a number of years and seem to be demonstrating real world performance improvements. This is not simply a "we're meeting permit requirements" effort. The number of sectors involved should help minimize "greenwashing" opportunities. (For how many years did Minnesota's water quality "sulfate standard" go unenforced? How many Minnesota mines continued to operate for years under expired discharge permits because the mine operator had applied for a renewed or new permit on a timely basis and the Pollution Control Agency had higher, other priorities than processing those permits?)

At Tower Peak


by Gary Snyder


Every tan rolling meadow will turn into housing
Freeways are clogged all day
Academies packed with scholars writing papers
City people lean and dark
This land most real
As its western-tending golden slopes
And bird-entangled central valley swamps
Sea-lion, urchin coasts
Southerly salmon-probes
Into the aromatic almost-Mexican hills
Along a range of granite peaks
The names forgotten,
An eastward running river that ends out in desert
The chipping ground-squirrels in the tumbled blocks
The gloss of glacier ghost on slab
Where we wake refreshed from ten hours sleep
After a long day's walking
Packing burdens to the snow
Wake to the same old world of no names,
No things, new as ever, rock and water,
Cool dawn birdcalls, high jet contrails.
A day or two or million, breathing
A few steps back from what goes down
In the current realm.
A kind of ice age, spreading, filling valleys
Shaving soils, paving fields, you can walk in it
Live in it, drive through it then
It melts away
For whatever sprouts
After the age of
Frozen hearts. Flesh-carved rock
And gusts on the summit,
Smoke from forest fires is white,
The haze above the distant valley like a dusk.
It's just one world, this spine of rock and streams
And snow, and the wash of gravels, silts
Sands, bunchgrasses, saltbrush, bee-fields,
Twenty million human people, downstream, here below.


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Monday, July 30, 2018

It's Lammas week #phenology

Wednesday is August 1. That's two days from today. In the Celtic culture, August 1 is the festival of "Lughnasad, or Lammas, the celebration of the cutting of the first crop." We've mentioned this in prior postings without mentioning that it seemed early to those of us who are most familiar with the row crops of soy beans and corn that are usually harvested closer to Samhain (Halloween). Then, today, as we were driving past one of the few small grains fields around here, what did we see but a combine, starting to harvest the field. It's nice to feel in touch with a larger, ancient, cycle of life.

according to some, but not all, field guides, this is spotted horsemint (Monarda punctata)
according to some, but not all, field guides,
this is spotted horsemint (Monarda punctata)
Photo by J. Harrington

We're experiencing one of those occasional "will the real authority please reveal themselves?" sequences on the identification of spotted horsemint (Monarda punctata). A search on the (not USDA) Wildflowers of the United States yields "No Results for the search specified" whether we search on the scientific or common name. Prairie Plants of the University of Wisconsin-Madison, which has become "old reliable," lists it as "dotted horsemint" and spotted bee balm. What's Doin the Blooming'? (wildflowers of the Upper Great Lakes) lists only Monarda fistulosa, wild bergamot. Northland Wildflowers includes mint and wild bergamot, but neither spotted nor dotted horsemint nor Monarda punctata. Stan Tekiela's Wildflowers of Minnesota includes wild bergamot but not mint (it also fails to have an index of scientific names). Wildflowers and Weeds does include dotted mint.
Last, and perhaps most troublesome, The Audubon Society Field Guide to North American Wildflowers only includes M. punctata as an aside under plains bee balm (M. pectinata). If we were relying on the "wrong" one or two (or three) of these guides, there's no way we would have identified a native plant that occupies several swaths of our property. That's frustrating.

History


This is the word that is always bleeding.
You didn’t think this
until your country changes and when it thunders
you search your own body
for a missing hand or leg.
In one country, there are no bodies shown,
lies are told
and the keep hidden the weeping children on dusty streets.

But I do remember once
a woman and a child in beautiful blue clothing
walking over a dune, spreading a green cloth,
drinking nectar with mint and laughing
beneath a sky of clouds from the river
near the true garden of Eden.
Now another country is breaking
this holy vessel
where stone has old stories
and the fire creates clarity in the eyes of a child
who will turn it to hate one day.

We are so used to it now,
this country where we do not love enough,
that country where they do not love enough,
and that.

We do not need a god by any name
nor do we need to fall to our knees or cover ourselves,
enter a church or a river,
only do we need to remember what we do
to one another, it is so fierce
what any of our fathers may do to a child
what any of our brothers or sisters do to nonbelievers,
how we try to discover who is guilty
by becoming guilty,
because history has continued
to open the veins of the world
more and more
always in its search
for something gold.


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Sunday, July 29, 2018

Summertime Blues

No,not the Eddie Cochran song. Our lilac bush has belatedly(?) produced some bluish-purple flowers. The feral lilacs up the road, and most of the others in our neck of the woods, blossomed back in May and June. We're not sure what's going on with ours. Is it a cultivar with a later in the Summer flower pattern?

spotted horsemint
spotted horsemint
Photo by J. Harrington

We've also noticed the growth of several large patches of spotted horsemint (Monarda punctata) in the fields. According to one of our field guides, it's a favorite nectar source of the karner blue butterfly, an endangered species. A 1990 survey failed to confirm the butterfly's presence in Chisago county but did note the presence of a large population of lupine (needed flower for garner blues) in Wild River state park and noted the butterfly's existence across the St.Croix River in Wisconsin. We've seen some small blue butterflies around here this Summer and last, but haven't been able to confirm an identification.

Buckthorn pulling season has started again, although it's too warm to do much at a time. We're also pulling weeds since we're contemplating starting a butterfly garden behind the house, but need to find shade tolerant plants. Despite a West facing location, some oaks to the South shade until late in the day the location we've in mind.

Finally, for today, we think we've found another active pocket gopher location so we will once again set some traps, being ever mindful of Samuel Beckett's observation, "Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try Again. Fail again. Fail better."

The Blue



One will live to see the Caterpillar rut everything
they walk on—seacliff buckwheat cleared, relentless
ice plant to replace it, the wild fields bisected
by the scenic highway, canyons covered with cul-de-sacs,
gas stations, comfortable homes, the whole habitat
along this coastal stretch endangered, everything,
everyone, everywhere in it danger as well—
but now they're logging the one stilling hawk
Smith sights, the conspiring grasses' shh shhhh ssh,
the coreopsis Mattoni's boot barely spares,
and, netted, a solitary blue butterfly. Smith
ahead of him chasing the stream, Mattoni wonders
if he plans to swim again. Just like that
the spell breaks. It's years later, Mattoni lecturing
on his struggling butterfly. How fragile.  
           •


If his daughter spooled out the fabric
she's chosen for her wedding gown,
raw taffeta, burled, a bright hued tan,
perhaps Mattoni would remember
how those dunes looked from a distance,
the fabric, balanced between her arms,
making valleys in the valley, the fan
above her mimicking the breeze.
He and his friend loved everything
softly undulating under the coyest wind,
and the rough truth as they walked
through the land's scratch and scrabble
and no one was there, then, besides Mattoni
and his friend, walking along Dolan's Creek,
in that part of California they hated
to share. The ocean, a mile or so off,
anything but passive so that even there,
in the canyon, they sometimes heard it smack
and pull well-braced rocks. The breeze,
basic: salty, bitter, sour, sweet. Smith trying
to identify the scent, tearing leaves
of manzanita, yelling: "This is it. Here! This is it!"
his hand to his nose, his eyes, having finally seen
the source of his pleasure, alive.

               •

In the lab, after the accident, he remembered it,
the butterfly. How good a swimmer Smith had been,
how rough the currents there at Half Moon Bay, his friend
alone with reel and rod—Mattoni back at school
early that year, his summer finished too soon—
then all of them together in the sneaker wave,
and before that the ridge, congregations of pinking
blossoms, and one of them bowing, scaring up the living,
the frail and flighty beast too beautiful
to never be pinned, those nights Mattoni worked
without his friend, he remembered too.
He called the butterfly Smith's Blue.


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Saturday, July 28, 2018

Does Minnesota believe in sustainable development?

Today we're about midway between the World Day of Love and Thanks to Water [July 25] and Earth Overshoot Day [August 1]. We are not surprised, but we are disappointed that, despite Minnesota's focus on water during the past several years, we can find online no recognition of the Day of Love for Water in Minnesota. The situation is similar for Earth Overshoot Day mentions in Minnesota, although Minnesota Public Radio does have a piece about it, there are no local mentions other than that.

The United Nations has adopted a set of Sustainable Development Goals. Minnesota, particularly in the nonprofit sector, has begun "to discuss how the Sustainable Development Goals can provide a framework for local collaboration around key issues in their state, including health, education, employment, and inequality."

Can you find Minnesota's boundaries?
Image Credit: NASA/NOAA/GSFC/Suomi NPP/VIIRS/Norman Kuring

One of many reasons we find Minnesota's almost complete silence on sustainability very disheartening is that our state, at one time, adopted its very own Sustainable Development Plan. It was one of the outcomes of {brace yourselves} "The Minnesota Sustainable Development Initiative [which] was launched in 1993 by Governor Arne H. Carlson, the Environmental Quality Board and the commissioner of Trade and Economic Development." Governor Carlson was (and remains, we believe) a REPUBLICAN. 1993 was a generation ago. What happened? How have we lost focus and taken our eyes off the ball? Obviously, sustainability isn't, or at least shouldn't be, a partisan issue. And yet, since the original Minnesota plan was last revised in April 1998, sustainable development has disappeared from most state public agency radar screens. Meanwhile, the rest of the world has made continuing efforts to keep our home planet habitable and more just. Here are a few examples:

  • Kate Raworth, in England, has written a book, Doughtnut Economics, framing how "to meet the needs of all within the means of the planet." (We wonder if such framing might help further discussions on the urban-rural divide.)

  • The Stockholm Resilience Center at Stockholm University has become "a reference point for research on global sustainability.

  • At Minnesota's substate level, Region 5 has continued to update and use The Central Minnesota Sustainable Development Plan

We strongly suggest that Minnesota and Minnesotans are well past the point of deciding to vote for either Republicans or Democrats. We need to vote for those who are dedicated to representing us, our children, and their children in the restoration of a habitable Earth, and the creation of an equitable Earth. Ben Franklin was absolutely correct when he pointed out that "We must, indeed, all hang together or, most assuredly, we shall all hang separately." If you haven't noticed, there's a growing number of heat waves, floods, droughts, wildfires, hurricanes or some other catastrophic event just waiting to make life miserable, or end it, for each of us and our friends and families.

My House is the Red Earth


By Joy Harjo


My house is the red earth; it could be the center of the world. I’ve heard New York, Paris, or Tokyo called the center of the world, but I say it is magnificently humble. You could drive by and miss it. Radio waves can obscure it. Words cannot construct it, for there are some sounds left to sacred wordless form. For instance, that fool crow, picking through trash near the corral, understands the center of the world as greasy strips of fat. Just ask him. He doesn’t have to say that the earth has turned scarlet through fierce belief, after centuries of heartbreak and laughter—he perches on the blue bowl of the sky, and laughs.


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Friday, July 27, 2018

the missing chrysalis?

We found a chrysalis that may, or may not, belong to one of the monarch caterpillars that disappeared last week. We'd been cleaning the gutters on the front of the house and went to get the hose so we could flush where we'd cleaned. Lo and behold, attached to the bottom lip of one of the siding boards was a green chrysalis that we believe is a monarch butterfly in the making. We'll keep an eye on it but fear we may be on vacation next week about the time a butterfly would emerge.

looks like a monarch butterfly chrysalis
looks like a monarch butterfly chrysalis
Photo by J. Harrington

Several of the milkweed plants in the field South of the house have been ravaged by tussock moth caterpillars. We also noticed within the past couple of days seed pods forming on some of the milkweed while others are still in flower. Milkweed pods and yesterday's temperatures in the sixties (actually in the fifties overnight) bring hints that Autumn isn't that far away.

That's about it for today. We're continuing to convince ourselves that it's worth the work to get rid of as much buckthorn as we can, although we're dubious it'll accomplish much since nearby DNR properties, plus private woodlands, will continue to offer a reservoir of seeds to get planted on our lands. Then again, we've developed a strong dislike for the plant so that's as good a reason as any, we suppose.

Little Summer Poem Touching The Subject Of Faith

by Mary Oliver

Every summer
I listen and look
under the sun's brass and even
into the moonlight, but I can't hear

anything, I can't see anything --
not the pale roots digging down, nor the green
stalks muscling up,
nor the leaves
deepening their damp pleats,

nor the tassels making,
nor the shucks, nor the cobs.
And still,
every day,

the leafy fields
grow taller and thicker --
green gowns lofting up in the night,
showered with silk.

And so, every summer,
I fail as a witness, seeing nothing --
I am deaf too
to the tick of the leaves,

the tapping of downwardness from the banyan feet --
all of it
happening
beyond any seeable proof, or hearable hum.

And, therefore, let the immeasurable come.
Let the unknowable touch the buckle of my spine.
Let the wind turn in the trees,
and the mystery hidden in the dirt

swing through the air.
How could I look at anything in this world
and tremble, and grip my hands over my heart?
What should I fear?

One morning
in the leafy green ocean
the honeycomb of the corn's beautiful body
is sure to be there.

Thursday, July 26, 2018

buck(thorns), does and fawns

Yesterday, just before the rains came, we were on our way to check whether a tree behind the house was black cherry or buckthorn. Key determinant: black cherry fruit has one pit. Buckthorn has 3-4 seeds (common) or 2-3 seeds (glossy). Today we went to resolve the competing identifications. We are not happy with the results. See for yourself.

seeds of three, buckthorn it be
seeds of three, buckthorn it be
Photo by J. Harrington

And, a more careful examination of the glossy(?) buckthorn leaves, compared to the more pointed and thinner black cherry leaves below, makes it clear we were engaged in wishful thinking more than anything else.

long and lean black-cherry leaves for comparison
long and lean black-cherry leaves for comparison
Photo by J. Harrington


whitetail doe feeding on pear tree
whitetail doe feeding on pear tree
Photo by J. Harrington

Despite that setback, all is not gloom and doom around here. This morning a whitetail doe returned to feast on the pear tree and brought junior to check out the neighborhood. Few things are more fun than watching a fawn find its way about its world. (Puppies come to mind.) Meanwhile, we're thinking "if we had paid more attention a quarter century ago, the buckthorn tree would not..." Ah, well! This turns out to be just the opposite of "The best time to plant a tree was 20 years ago. The second best time is now!" The best time to cut down a buckthorn tree is...soon!


whitetail fawn ignoring mom at pear tree
whitetail fawn ignoring mom at pear tree
Photo by J. Harrington















Fawn



Out of a high meadow where flowers
bloom above cloud, come down;
pursue me with reasons for smiling without malice.

Bring mimic pride like that of the seedling fir,
surprise in the perfect leg-stems
and queries unstirred by recognition or fear
pooled in the deep eyes.

Come down by regions where rocks
lift through the hot haze of pain;
down landscapes darkened, crossed
by the rift of death-shock; place print
of a neat hoof on trampled ground
where not one leaf or root
remains unbitten; but come down
always, accompany me to the morass
of the decaying mind. There
we’ll share one rotted stump between us.


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Wednesday, July 25, 2018

Buckthorn or not buckthorn? 'tis the question!

Threats of rain have come and gone all day without, as of writing this sentence, any precipitation. The weather apps on our iPhone have set a new record for being incorrect today. The forecast of rain caused us to defer spraying poison ivy. Tomorrow or Friday look promising.

black cherry foliage flaming in Autumn
black cherry foliage flaming in Autumn
Photo by J. Harrington

We've found, encountered, created, fostered a new and potentially serious conundrum. A handful of times last year we posted about our new-found "religion" for removing buckthorn. We've made some progress. In the process of figuring out what to pull and what to leave, we thought we had identified a black cherry tree surrounded by a number of seedlings. The other day, the Better Half suggested our "cherry tree" might well be a large glossy buckthorn tree. We've been in a funk since then because, if the tree behind the house is buckthorn, there's another large one in front of the house. Each of these are tall enough that we're not sure we want to play lumberjack. One the other hand, we know there's a black cherry tree a couple of hundred yards West of the house (photo above).

Today, as we were writing this, we (re)discovered the following information about black cherry fruit.
Fruit is a shiny, round drupe, dark reddish purple to nearly black, around 1/3 inch in diameter with a single hard seed inside. The sepals typically persist until the stalk drops off. [emphasis added]
Then, there's this information from Minnesota DNR about glossy buckthorn.
 Round, berry-like fruit; 1/4–inch diameter; less fruit than common buckthorn; red-brown (unripe) to black (ripe) color. Each fruit has 2–3 seeds. (Common buckthorn fruit has 3-4 seeds.)
This is fundamental and basic enough that even someone [like us] with a track record of finding specimens that don't match the field guide pictures should be able to handle it. We're going to go check before it rains. (Oops -- the skies opened before we got to the door.) We'll report the results tomorrow.



Praise the Rain


By Joy Harjo


Praise the rain; the seagull dive
The curl of plant, the raven talk—
Praise the hurt, the house slack
The stand of trees, the dignity—
Praise the dark, the moon cradle
The sky fall, the bear sleep—
Praise the mist, the warrior name
The earth eclipse, the fired leap—
Praise the backwards, upward sky
The baby cry, the spirit food—
Praise canoe, the fish rush
The hole for frog, the upside-down—
Praise the day, the cloud cup
The mind flat, forget it all—

Praise crazy. Praise sad.
Praise the path on which we're led.
Praise the roads on earth and water.
Praise the eater and the eaten.
Praise beginnings; praise the end.
Praise the song and praise the singer.

Praise the rain; it brings more rain.
Praise the rain; it brings more rain.


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Tuesday, July 24, 2018

could "Collaborative Conservation" work for copper mining?

We learned a few of new things today. One is that he Bureau of Land Management offers awards for:

Reclamation & Sustainable Mineral Development

.
Here's the Press Release describing the 2017 awards. Previous award winners can be found here: 20142015 and 2016.

Another is that Montana is involved in contentious mining pollution issues, similar to Minnesota's never-ending battles over copper-nickel sulfide ore mining. After failures in two consecutive legislative sessions, Montanans for Responsible Mining are now pursuing an Initiative (I-186) to hold mining companies responsible for prevention and cleanup of mining pollution of Montana's waters. Montanans are already responsible for multiple millions of dollars of cleanup costs for old, abandoned mines whose owners are now bankrupt. These are the kinds of problems Minnesota is now trying to avoid.

The Center for Collaborative Conservation at Colorado State University was created to teach others:
How can we come together to solve our most pressing environmental challenges?

By transforming conservation into a force that unites and not divides.

...Conservation guided by local knowledge, community participation, and science to sustain both people and places.
The University of Montana offers a similar program at their Center for Natural Resources & Environmental Policy. (We suspect no one has invited them to assist with the resolution of issues and conflicts related to I-186, at least not yet.)

For some years now, the Tiffany & Co. Foundation has been awarding grants in support of responsible mining, including some to organizations in Colorado and Montana, and even one to a Minnesota environmental organization.

Although not directly related to mining, in Nevada the State of Nevada, the US Forest Service, and the Bureau of Land Management are working together to use the Nevada Collaboration Conservation Network (NCCN) to achieve effective conservation of sagebrush ecosystems in Nevada in conjunction with implementation of the sage-grouse plan amendments.

historic Stone Arch Bridge over the Mississippi River
historic Stone Arch Bridge over the Mississippi River
Photo by J. Harrington

The National Park Service has a report on Scaling Up Collaborative Approaches to Large Landscape Conservation. It includes
The 54,000-acre Mississippi National River and  Recreation Area ... established by Congress in 1988. A true partnership park, the National Park Service owns very little land (64 acres) and works with 25 local governments, state agencies, and numerous organizations to protect the globally significant resources along the 72-mile stretch of river running through the Minneapolis/Saint Paul, Minnesota, metro area.
should one watershed be protected and another not?
should one watershed be protected and another not?
Photo by J. Harrington

There are additional resources and models that could be listed here. The point is, many of the warriors participants in Minnesota's "copper" mining battles have, at other times and in other places, participated actively in collaborative processes involving all the stakeholders to create innovative solutions that support economic development while protecting natural resource systems. Perhaps, rather than fighting issue by issue, mining proposal by mining proposal, site by site, impact by impact, Minnesota would be well served to at least try some version of collaborative conservation and responsible mining to establish a framework for where, and under what conditions, nonferrous mining should be allowed to explore and develop mineral resources in Minnesota. It might even offer a "New and improved" process for deciding about pipelines.


After Arguing Against The Contention That Art Must Come From Discontent



by Mary Oliver


Whispering to each handhold, "I'll be back,"
I go up the cliff in the dark. One place
I loosen a rock and listen a long time
till it hits, faint in the gulf, but the rush
of the torrent almost drowns it out, and the wind --
I almost forgot the wind: it tears at your side
or it waits and then buffets; you sag outward...

I remember they said it would be hard. I scramble
by luck into a little pocket out of
the wind and begin to beat on the stones
with my scratched numb hands, rocking back and forth
in silent laughter there in the dark--
"Made it again!" Oh how I love this climb!
-- the whispering to the stones, the drag, the weight
as your muscles crack and ease on, working
right. They are back there, discontent,
waiting to be driven forth. I pound
on the earth, riding the earth past the stars:
"Made it again! Made it again!" 


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Monday, July 23, 2018

Deep Summer's joys #phenology

Black-eyed Susans brighten roadside edges and field corners. Lilies are coming into bloom. Purple(?)/house(?) finches are back at the feeders. We're enjoying a respite from Summer's high heat and humidity. Deer flies are down, mosquitos up. White sage has matured and an occasional blue spiderwort flower peeks out of a field. Days are getting shorter. Mars(?) looks entrancing in the early (4 am) morning Southern sky if there's no cloud cover. Swamp milkweed plants have increased. Monarch butterflies have found the swamp milkweeds. (One monarch stayed on the flowers as we passed within a few feet on the tractor.) Whitetails are coming to the pear tree early and late in the day. Goldenrod plants are starting to flower. Occasionally, a large, yellow tiger swallowtail butterfly will kite across the sky.

black-eyed Susans in bloom
black-eyed Susans in bloom
Photo by J. Harrington

If there's no major change in the weather or bug situation, we may get to some outdoor chores like harrowing down pocket gopher mounds. There also seem to be some poison ivy plants that survived Spring's spraying. It's little more than a week until "Lughnasadh, on August 1st, the time which marked the link between the agricultural and the livestock cycle - the harvest began and both human food and animal fodder were reaped and stored." Field corn is tall and maturing. The Better Half picked several hands full of small, wild raspberries this morning. We're going to try our best to relax a bit, spend more time outside, and enjoy deep Summer's joys.

"replica 19th-century paddle-wheeler"
"replica 19th-century paddle-wheeler"
Photo by J. Harrington

Summer in a Small Town



Yes, the young mothers are beautiful,
with all the self-acceptance of exhaustion,
still dazed from their great outpouring,
pushing their strollers along the public river walk.

And the day is also beautiful—the replica 19th-century paddle-wheeler
perpetually moored at the city wharf
                with its glassed-in bar and grill
for the lunch-and-cocktail-seekers
who come for the Mark Twain Happy Hour
which lasts as long as the Mississippi.

This is the kind of town where the rush hour traffic halts
                to let three wild turkeys cross the road,
and when the high school music teacher retires
after thirty years

the movie marquee says, “Thanks Mr. Biddleman!”
and the whole town comes to hear
                the tuba solos of old students.

Summer, when the living is easy
and we store up pleasure in our bodies
like fat, like Eskimos,
for the coming season of privation.

All August the Ferris wheel will turn
                           in the little amusement park,
and screaming teenage girls will jump into the river
with their clothes on,
right next to the No Swimmingsign.

Trying to cool the heat inside the small towns
                                               of their bodies,
for which they have no words;
obedient to the voice inside which tells them,
“Now. Steal Pleasure.”


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Sunday, July 22, 2018

Divided and conquered?

The North Atlantic Treaty Organization [NATO] has been in the news recently, particularly in regard to its article 5, "collective self-defence." We've been watching increased attacks on America's public lands and waters recently and have seen, in response, a growing number of coalitions, groups, businesses and individuals come together to support our public lands and waters. We also have seen a number of reports on how folks like the Koch brothers have been funding and taking a long view on undermining what many would consider fundamental democratic values to benefit the 1% at the top. That, and other factors like recent election outcomes, have made us wonder if it could be time, and might be possible, to create a NATO for the United State's public lands and waters. It would include, but not be limited to such organizations as:


Sportsmen for Responsible Energy Development, a coalition of more than 500 businesses, organizations and individuals dedicated to conserving irreplaceable habitats so future generations can hunt and fish on America's public lands. The coalition is led by the National Wildlife FederationTrout Unlimitedand the Theodore Roosevelt Conservation Partnership.

Backcountry Hunters & Anglers seeks to ensure North America's outdoor heritage of hunting and fishing in a natural setting, through education and work on behalf of wild public lands and waters. There's a Minnesota Chapter working to protect the Boundary Waters from the proposed Twin Metals mine.

Pategonia supports, among other grantees, Northeastern Minnesotans for Wilderness, which seeks to protect and preserve wilderness and to advocate for the protection of the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness.

There are numerous other businesses, organizations and individuals who support protecting our public lands and waters (and air), our commons, our environment, our heritage. Part of being a democracy, it seems to us, is based on the idea that fish and game, and therefore the water and land resources on which fish and game depend, are not property of the king but belong to all citizens. It further seems to us that politics has failed us as an institution on which we can rely to protect our commons due in large part to the growing influence of money in and on politics, compounded by decisions like Citizens United.


One way we can respond is collectively. In fact, that may be the only way we can effectively respond, since both American and Russian oligarchs, and too many politicians, have benefited by setting us to fighting amongst ourselves. If we can learn to work together and speak with a united voice about our common interests, outdoor enthusiasts and environmentalists may be able to protect the common base on which we all depend. It needs protection from, among others, mining, fracking, free riders, pipelines and other "commons carriers." Isn't it time to join together to defend what we share in commons, and then we'll talk about how we divvy up the shares afterwards?

[UPDATE: Hunters, hikers unite to protect beloved public lands, waters, Denver Post 7/23/18]

I Went into the Maverick Bar



I went into the Maverick Bar   
In Farmington, New Mexico.
And drank double shots of bourbon
                         backed with beer.
My long hair was tucked up under a cap
I’d left the earring in the car.

Two cowboys did horseplay
                         by the pool tables,
A waitress asked us
                         where are you from?
a country-and-western band began to play   
“We don’t smoke Marijuana in Muskokie”   
And with the next song,
                         a couple began to dance.

They held each other like in High School dances   
                         in the fifties;
I recalled when I worked in the woods
                         and the bars of Madras, Oregon.   
That short-haired joy and roughness—
                         America—your stupidity.   
I could almost love you again.

We left—onto the freeway shoulders—
                         under the tough old stars—
In the shadow of bluffs
                         I came back to myself,
To the real work, to
                         “What is to be done.”



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Saturday, July 21, 2018

Making some senses of Summer

The monarch butterfly caterpillars on our front yard milkweed have disappeared. Two likely options are that predators got one or both, or, that each of them is now healthy somewhere in a chrysalis. Since we've not seen any chrysalis, nor are we sure of where to look for them, we'll just continue to keep our eyes open and hope for the best.

monarch caterpillar on milkweed
monarch caterpillar on milkweed
Photo by J. Harrington

We're discovering more and more about how much we've never noticed in the world about us because, in large part, we rarely look carefully. A quick glance to be sure there's no bear lurking nearby in the woods, no cars or trucks on the road, and we're no about to walk into a tree or fall into a hole or trip on something underfoot is our normal level of observation. This seems to be in major contrast to the intensity with which our dogs scent the areas where they're walking us, although the dogs appear even less observant about what they see than we are. Then again, we rarely rely on our nose to check on who's about in the neighborhood.

turkey hens with poults
turkey hens with poults
Photo by J. Harrington

Thinking about who's in the neighborhood these days, we're watching to see our first glimpse this year of hen turkeys with poults. The Better Half reported a sighting the other day but we've had no such luck yet. Maybe because few turkeys try to hide under milkweed plants, where we've been looking a lot recently?

Caterpillar




After Ian Sanborn’s ASL poem of the same title

A man with eyes as blank
as the indifference of nature
is staring straight ahead
as the whole thing unfolds.
He has a black beard, black
shirt, black woolen cap — 
he could be a thief — you better
keep your eyes on his hands
which have begun clearing
a clearing. Here he plants
a seed as small as his own
fingernail, and shazam! it sprouts
roots, shoots, stems, branches — 
a whole tree shouldering up,
tossing and swaying in the air
between the sun’s magic hands
and the man’s indifferent eyes.
Next thing you know, an orphan
index finger is worming its way
across the stage that wasn’t
a stage until your eyeing it
made it so. It inches over
to the tree like a lost knuckle
finding its way home, its feelers
testing, feeling, sniffing, finding
purchase, finding a toe-hold,
the tiny, spiny, hairy, leg-like
appendages beginning to wiggle,
to climb, to shinny up the tree,
the elbow, the sheer escarpment,
pausing to send out a line,
a lasso, a long rope as fine
as the filament of a spider
launched from its abdomen
and hooking the thumb
of the lowest branch. A rope for
rappelling, for jumping off
this cliff, taking this dive,
twisting as it untwists, enfolding
as it unfolds, holding on for
dear life as it spins itself into
silk, those indifferent eyes
almost imperceptibly squinting
in sympathy with this closing
up, this cloaking, this cloistering,
this hanging upside down with
a pulse inside. A fluttering
pulse. A pulse like the flutter
of eyelids. Like the flutter
of wings. A heartbeat growing
stronger, stronger, breaking
out, breaking free, the wings
opening, the eyes opening as if
all this time they were closed — 
the blank eyes opening to the
wings, taking them in, incredulous,
in love with them — and the black
and white has grown iridescent;
the orphaned knuckle has found
the hands; the hands have found
their wings, and we are all
utterly blown away.

Ian Sanborn's ASL poem may be viewed here.



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Friday, July 20, 2018

Antigonish, or there's no there, there!

We bet you may remember a poem many children learn that ends like this:
Last night I saw upon the stair
A little man who wasn’t there
He wasn’t there again today
Oh, how I wish he’d go away...
Now, substitute deer flies for the little man and we're pleased to report they seem to be slowly fading away. At least the dogs have been a little less bothered the past day or two.

livetrap chipmunk "two-fer"
livetrap chipmunk "two-fer"
Photo by J. Harrington

Have you been taught that one of the hardest things to see is what isn't there? We learned that some time ago. Then, just today, we realized we've seen almost no chipmunks around the house this Summer. That's a far cry from a couple of years ago when we ended up translocating something like 15 or 16 of the little, striped rodents. The dogs have been sniffing around the front stoop as if one might be burrowing under the steps, and we caught a quick glimpse of one in the back yard a week or so ago, but that's been about it. Maybe the word got out among the chipmunk clans?

Other than that, we've not much to report today unless we comment on state or national politics and we just don't want to go there. Most days these days we can only conclude that alien mother ships are bombarding the United States with some ray that makes large portions of the population excessively venal, short-sighted, greedy, xenophobic, racist, and stupid. Or, perhaps many people have always been like that and the rays are finally enabling the rest of us to see them as they are. We'll not settle that this afternoon nor do we want to spoil the weekend debating it. Instead, watch a chipmunk scamper away from a livetrap.



Antigonish [I met a man who wasn’t there]


Yesterday, upon the stair,
I met a man who wasn’t there
He wasn’t there again today
I wish, I wish he’d go away...

When I came home last night at three
The man was waiting there for me
But when I looked around the hall
I couldn’t see him there at all!
Go away, go away, don’t you come back any more!
Go away, go away, and please don’t slam the door... (slam!)

Last night I saw upon the stair
A little man who wasn’t there
He wasn’t there again today
Oh, how I wish he’d go away...


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Thursday, July 19, 2018

Might International Mining Sustainability Standards help protect our Boundary Waters?

You may have noticed that Russia and Russians have been much in the news recently. Every mention reminds us of President Reagan's citation, when dealing with nuclear disarmament, of the Russian proverb "Trust, but verify!" We believe following that old proverb could be very helpful in protecting one of Minnesota's most treasured resources, the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness from the onslaught of copper mining. Here's our logic, yet to be verified.
  • Twin Metals Minnesota is a wholly owned subsidiary of Antofagasta plc of Santiago, Chile, one of the top 10 copper producers in the world. Twin Metals Minnesota maintains offices in Ely and St. Paul, Minnesota. (source: <http://www.twin-metals.com/who-we-are/>, 7/19/18, ~12:15 pm)
  • Antofagasta Minerals is a member of the International Council on Mining & Metals [ICMM]. They joined in 2014.
  • ICMM member companies commit to a set of 10 principles, eight supporting position statements and transparent and accountable reporting practices.
  • ICMM principles of particular relevance to mining and protected areas are:
  •     Principle 6: Pursue continual improvement in environmental performance issues, such as water stewardship, energy use and climate change.
  •     Principle 7: Contribute to the conservation of biodiversity and integrated approaches to land-use planning.
  • Further clarifications of those commitments include
  • Not explore or mine in World Heritage properties. All possible steps will be taken to ensure that existing operations in World Heritage properties as well as existing and future operations adjacent to World Heritage properties are not incompatible with the outstanding universal value for which these properties are listed and do not put the integrity of these properties at risk. 
  • Ib Wilderness Area: Category Ib protected areas are usually large unmodified or slightly modified areas, retaining their natural character and influence without permanent or significant human habitation, which are protected and managed so as to preserve their natural condition. more...
  • II National Park: Category II protected areas are large natural or near natural areas set aside to protect large-scale ecological processes, along with the complement of species and ecosystems characteristic of the area, which also provide a foundation for environmentally and culturally compatible, spiritual, scientific, educational, recreational, and visitor opportunities. more...
would mining activities enhance this?
would mining activities enhance this?
Photo by J. Harrington

We believe that the Boundary Waters and much of the surrounding areas largely qualify as category Ib and/or II. We've seen no indication that the question of compliance with ICMM principles by Twin Metals has been put to ICMM, IUCN and/or Angofasta. Is the pursuit of Twin Metals exploration and/or the development of the contemplated mine consistent with or in violation of ICMM principles? If the latter, is it not therefore qualified as a sustainable source of copper for the future.

We posted about this theme a couple of years ago, before the Twin Metals project was declared off limits. Now folks are trying to bring it back "on limits" so the questions again seem relevant and ripe for verification. Answers could go a very long way toward demonstrating whether ICMM principles and standards are real, or just a long-winded version of greenwash. They might also provide Minnesota with improved tools for managing mining and its impacts in the state.

History


Linda Hogan


This is the word that is always bleeding.
You didn’t think this
until your country changes and when it thunders
you search your own body
for a missing hand or leg.
In one country, there are no bodies shown,
lies are told
and the keep hidden the weeping children on dusty streets.

But I do remember once
a woman and a child in beautiful blue clothing
walking over a dune, spreading a green cloth,
drinking nectar with mint and laughing
beneath a sky of clouds from the river
near the true garden of Eden.
Now another country is breaking
this holy vessel
where stone has old stories
and the fire creates clarity in the eyes of a child
who will turn it to hate one day.

We are so used to it now,
this country where we do not love enough,
that country where they do not love enough,
and that.

We do not need a god by any name
nor do we need to fall to our knees or cover ourselves,
enter a church or a river,
only do we need to remember what we do
to one another, it is so fierce
what any of our fathers may do to a child
what any of our brothers or sisters do to nonbelievers,
how we try to discover who is guilty
by becoming guilty,
because history has continued
to open the veins of the world
more and more
always in its search
for something gold.



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