It's (almost) Spring! #phenology

In a "normal" (does that word have meaning anymore?) year, today would be March 1. This is Leap Year, so today is February 29 and we have to wait until tomorrow for the beginning of meteorological Spring. Average daily high temperatures from now on get to above freezing. What's left of the snow should slowly disappear and, thanks to a need to recuperate from a recent tooth extraction, we're running behind on seasonal activities. We've yet to collect red osier dogwood branches. That's on the list for early next week, as is getting this year's fishing licenses and trout stamps.

time for red osier dogwood bouquets

Photo by J. Harrington

As to some past news, the Irish soda bread came out nice and tasty and crusty. Thanks for asking. We'll bake another loaf tomorrow or Monday, probably Monday, so we can more easily bake some scones tomorrow for breakfast. Can you tell we're coming out of our Winter shell? But we have to wait patiently here in the North Country for Spring leaf out to creep closer. It's reached all through the maroonish color on the map. Another 6 to 8 weeks for us, perhaps?

source: USA National Phenology Network, www.usanpn.org

While we wait for leaf out, we can welcome returning waterfowl. Yesterday we saw a couple of small groups of swans on a St. Croix River backwater across from Osceola. We suspect they may be a rogue offshoot of the flock that overwinters near Hudson. The Osceola gang may be the source of the pair of swans we saw near Comfort Lake on Thursday. Unless, of course, a number of swans are returning early to the North Country. Maybe they know something about an early Spring while we can but hope for such at the moment.

Cold Spring

By Lawrence Raab

The last few gray sheets of snow are gone,

winter’s scraps and leavings lowered

to a common level. A sudden jolt

of weather pushed us outside, and now

this larger world once again belongs to us.

I stand at the edge of it, beside the house,

listening to the stream we haven’t heard

since fall, and I imagine one day thinking

back to this hour and blaming myself

for my worries, my foolishness, today’s choices

having become the accomplished

facts of change, accepted

or forgotten. The woods are a mangle

of lines, yet delicate, yet precise,

when I take the time to look closely.

If I’m not happy it must be my own fault.

At the edge of the lawn my wife

bends down to uncover a flower, then another.

The first splurge of crocuses.

And for a moment the sweep and shudder

of the wind seems indistinguishable

from the steady furl of water

just beyond her.

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Thought for food (and drink)

I've been reading about the controversy surrounding a proposed expansion of an existing dairy operation in Winona County. One of the issues centers around the question of whether an expansion would lead to an increase in greenhouse gas emissions. The real question, it seems to me, is "compared to what?" The Paris Agreement target is to keep global temperatures from increasing more than 1.5℃ by limiting and reducing greenhouse gas emissions. If we change vehicles that burn fossil fuels into electric powered using renewable energy, we've reduced transportation GHGs. What's the comparable scenario for dairy cows? Minnesota's herd has been pretty stable for the last decade or so. Does it make a difference to the climate if those cows are distributed among 1, 10, or 1,000 separate operations? How well equipped are we as a society to answer those questions? How many similar questions will arise as we work toward a  set of Drawdown solutions? Can we agree on workable solutions quickly enough to keep climate volatility within tolerable extremes and frequencies? I am again reminded of a poster I had on my office wall, when I was younger and knew so much more than I do these days. It's attributed to Harvey Cox and claims "Not to decide is to decide!" If we keep going the way we're going we may end up somewhere we don't want to be.

I don't know if the neighbor milks his yaks

Photo by J. Harrington

Cows

By Deena Metzger

After seven lean years

we are promised seven fat ones,

if the cows do not die first.

Some care must be taken

to prevent their demise

in the scrub

or the slaughterhouse.

There must be enough bones

to throw and to bury.

The skull of a cow,

I put it on.

There are many strewn in the field,

there has not been much rain.

I look through the eyes,

that is, my eyes replace the eyes

that death has taken.

I can see out or through.

It is not a bad fate

to be a cow,

to be, at once,

so awkward,

so full of grace,

so full of milk.

Everywhere the udders are full,

the teats are ready,

the mouth of the calf is soft and deep.

I would thrust my hand in it

for the wet joy of being so used.

My own breasts are marked

from the time the milk came in too fast;

I did not have time to grow

to the moment of giving.

It is fitting

that beauty

leaves such scars.

Milk has passed through my fingers,

has spurted through my fingers,

but not once

during these seven lean years.

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Planting a-maizing ideas

I'm pleased to announce I've found the directions / instructions I've been looking for on how to grow a three sisters garden. I'm debating whether to plant sweet corn or a variety of maize. I suspect the answer will be some of each. One of the reasons I want to at least try a three sisters garden  is I know I spend to much time inside my head instead of outside the house (and not in the Jeep). I'm curious to see how much food the deer and other critters may help themselves to versus how much we humans get to keep. It's also a good way to learn more about the history of Native Americans and the area where I live. I came across this resource this afternoon: American Crossroads: Teaching History on the Great Plains.

this barn is on the way to a CSA farm we had a share in

Photo by J. Harrington

The good news is, even if the deer, et. al., eat all our plants, we're only out some seed money and sweat but probably won't starve. If we do manage to produce any of our own food this Summer, we'll have reduced our "foodprint" a little bit (we hope). I've always related more to hunting, fishing and foraging than to farming or gardening. I've not spent much time the past few years hunting, fishing or foraging so ... we'll try to compensate [Yoda reminds us "Do or do not. There is no try!"].

if field corn is this high late in June, early June is planting  time?

Photo by J. Harrington

Reducing food waste is one of the more significant things we can each do to reduce our greenhouse gas emissions. Eating a plant-rich diet is another. I've been unsuccessful over the past few years in my efforts to compost our yard and food waste. [Last Spring the neighborhood black bear kept tipping over the compost bin.] If the three sisters provide food for us then that offers an opportunity to work harder at composting so we can enrich the mounds in which the sisters are planted. Plus, gardening offers more options for exercise, so I'm filing this whole endeavor under the heading of "nothing ventured, nothing gained."

What to Do If You Find a Dead Hobbit in Your Garden

By Murray Edmond

• Phone your local police station. They have a 24-hour answering service. Please note your message will be used for training purposes. Your voice print will be added to their database.

• Access Hobbit Rescue (HR) on the Hobbit Rescue app (type in Hobbit Rescue). Type your address in the required box. Wait for assistance to arrive.

• Do not touch the Hobbit. Warner Bros. can recycle most parts of a Hobbit. Interference with any part of a dead Hobbit is a crime. Remember: you will be liable!

• Do not Facebook your Friends. Some of your Friends may not be Friends. Australian Unionists are known Trollers. Be vigilant. Unionists have no part in our film industry.

• When Hobbit Rescue arrives they will ask you questions. You are required to answer. Hobbits are an integral platform in our 
national economy. Withholding information from a private company in pursuit of its legitimate profit can be deemed a treasonable act.

• Remember Hobbits are our friends. They were born here. This is their home. They represent our way of life. Do you want to lose that way of life?

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'Tis getting t' be time for the "wearing of the green"

This morning I stopped by Irish on Grand in St. Paul. As this is being written I've a loaf of Irish bread in the oven. It's that time of year again -- St. Patrick's Day ☘ is but three weeks away. Between now and then we get to vote in the presidential primary. Late next month is our district convention. Yes, I  did attend and participate in last night's precinct caucus. I even made a pitch for endorsement support for Gaylene Spolarich, my preferred MN CD8 candidate for Congress.

Growing up in Boston I always associate Irish and politics. It was only recently that I read about the linkage between potato monoculture and the potato famine. Meanwhile, the Better Half has become enthralled with a book, The Summer Isles, that came as a Christmas present. She now wants to read more like it. Her birthday is about midway between now and St Patrick's Day, so maybe a faery or a Leprechaun can help her out. I, on the there hand, will dig out my volumes of Seamus Heaney's poems and add in Yeats' The Celtic Twilight to my reading stack. With "the luck of the Irish," by this time next month it might even be warm enough to curl up outside for a bit and read a poem or two while sitting  on the deck, listening for returning blackbirds and geese.

moss growing on fallen tree trunks is an early season green

Photo by J. Harrington

As the snow melts, the North Country starts to wear green. This is the time of year when life returns with vigor. All the Irish I've know were full of life and vigor, so St. Patrick's Day seems timely, although I remember marching in more than one parade in Boston with sleet or snowflakes blowing in my face and a stiff breeze rippling the flags. But soon the ground will have thawed enough to begin thinking about this year's plantings, whether potatoes or ornamentals. First, though, some of us have to do some

Digging

By Seamus Heaney

Between my finger and my thumb   

The squat pen rests; snug as a gun.

Under my window, a clean rasping sound   

When the spade sinks into gravelly ground:   

My father, digging. I look down

Till his straining rump among the flowerbeds   

Bends low, comes up twenty years away   

Stooping in rhythm through potato drills   

Where he was digging.

The coarse boot nestled on the lug, the shaft   

Against the inside knee was levered firmly.

He rooted out tall tops, buried the bright edge deep

To scatter new potatoes that we picked,

Loving their cool hardness in our hands.

By God, the old man could handle a spade.   

Just like his old man.

My grandfather cut more turf in a day

Than any other man on Toner’s bog.

Once I carried him milk in a bottle

Corked sloppily with paper. He straightened up

To drink it, then fell to right away

Nicking and slicing neatly, heaving sods

Over his shoulder, going down and down

For the good turf. Digging.

The cold smell of potato mould, the squelch and slap

Of soggy peat, the curt cuts of an edge

Through living roots awaken in my head.

But I’ve no spade to follow men like them.

Between my finger and my thumb

The squat pen rests.

I’ll dig with it.

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What's a democrat to do?

Yesterday we noted that buying local food won't do much of anything to shrink your carbon footprint, or "foodprint." We also promised to share some good reasons, other than foodprint shrinkage, why we should support local family farms and farmers. Here's some of Wendell Berry's thinking that, to be honest, I wish had occurred to me before I read it:

family farm in the Driftless Area

Photo by J. Harrington

But the justifications of the family farm are not merely agricultural; they are political and cultural as well. The question of the survival of the family farm and  the farm family is one version of the question of who will own the country, which is, ultimately, the question of who will own the people. Shall the useable property of our country be democratically divided, or not? Shall the power of property be a democratic  power, or not? If many people do not own the useable property, then they must submit to the few who do own it. They cannot eat or be sheltered or clothed except in submission. They will find them selves entirely dependent on money; they will find costs always higher, and money always harder to get. ...

If we continue on the course of agricultural consolidation, with fewer, but bigger, concentrated animal feeding operations [CAFO], won't we end up with the equivalent of the feudalism of old? (Broadly defined, it was a way of structuring society around relationships derived from the holding of land in exchange for service or labour.) Since each state is represented by two United States Senators, regardless of population, fewer people in rural areas give each remaining rural resident a disproportionate influence on national policy. We've seen unfortunate examples of what  that can lead to during the past decade or so, haven't we?

how much field corn do we really need?

Photo by J. Harrington

It seems to me that proportional representation (of people, not corporate persons) is one of the biggest reasons we can't allow the Democratic Party to abandon rural America to the Republicans. It may well be that my New England background is biasing me. I've a clear picture of New England farmers and townfolks who recognized their dependence on each other, that they were "all in this together." New England town squares were often centered upon a commons, one that was often much better managed than Garrett Hardin would have us believe is feasible. Once I believed that to be true. Then I started to read about Elinor Ostrum's approach to Governing the Commons. Ostrum has identified 8 principle for managing the commons. Read them and see if you disagree with any. Then think about how this country, and its major political parties, are being managed.

8 Principles for Managing a Commons

1. Define clear group boundaries.

2. Match rules governing use of common goods to local needs and conditions.

3. Ensure that those affected by the rules can participate in modifying the rules.

4. Make sure the rule-making rights of community members are respected by outside authorities.

5. Develop a system, carried out by community members, for monitoring members’ behavior.

6. Use graduated sanctions for rule violators.

7. Provide accessible, low-cost means for dispute resolution.

8. Build responsibility for governing the common resource in nested tiers from the lowest level up to the entire interconnected system.

The Need of Being Versed in Country Things

By Robert Frost

The house had gone to bring again

To the midnight sky a sunset glow.

Now the chimney was all of the house that stood,

Like a pistil after the petals go.

The barn opposed across the way,

That would have joined the house in flame

Had it been the will of the wind, was left

To bear forsaken the place’s name.

No more it opened with all one end

For teams that came by the stony road

To drum on the floor with scurrying hoofs

And brush the mow with the summer load.

The birds that came to it through the air

At broken windows flew out and in,

Their murmur more like the sigh we sigh

From too much dwelling on what has been.

Yet for them the lilac renewed its leaf,

And the aged elm, though touched with fire;

And the dry pump flung up an awkward arm;

And the fence post carried a strand of wire.

For them there was really nothing sad.

But though they rejoiced in the nest they kept,

One had to be versed in country things

Not to believe the phoebes wept. 

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About your "foodprint"

According to the Union of Concerned Scientists, there are a number of good reasons to support local food sources, but, unfortunately, reducing your, or your family's, carbon footprint isn't one of them. I was surprised and disappointed to read in Cooler Smarter: practical steps for low-carbon living:

"The emissions from producing food are so much greater than those from transporting it that transportation makes up only a tiny part of your carbon "foodprint." Even if local food eliminated all the emissions from transportation, long-distance food produced on a farm with 5 percent lower emissions might actually contribute less to global warming." ...

"Buying local food is an excellent way to support farmers in your area and to ensure freshness and quality.But other strategies are more effective in reducing the global warming emissions resulting from your diet."

Photo by J. Harrington

We'll look at some of those other strategies, plus some interesting thoughts from Wendell Berry on why supporting local family farms is critical, in the days and weeks ahead. Today we'll have this short posting because we sent time in the dentist's chair getting a molar extracted. Tomorrow we hope our ability to concentrate will be much improved. Soon I hope to enjoy Mr. Berry's suggestion to enjoy

“The Peace of Wild Things”

Wendell Berry

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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It's mud season! #phenology

a gravel road early in mud season

Photo by J. Harrington

One week from today is March 1, the first day of meteorological Spring. Today the temperature is in the mid-40's, the sky is blue and the sun is shining. That combination leads to melting snow turning into rills and rivulets which, on gravel roads and unpaved shoulders makes mud and puddles. I don't doubt that we'll see more snow this season and, perhaps, well into astronomical Spring. But we know it won't last, at least that's what we hope. I'll try to not spoil it all by becoming too optimistic.

some leaf buds balloon in early Spring

Photo by J. Harrington

In two weeks Daylight Savings will return, bringing with it longer evenings and later sunrises. I've yet to settle on the details for planting a Three Sisters garden, so that needs to move near the top of the list. There's a couple of branches on one of our oaks that  catch the roll over protection on the tractor each time I mow under the tree. If I'm going to trim them I need to do it in the next week or so to minimize the chances of exposing the trees to oak wilt. Can you tell I'm getting excited about spending time outside? A poet that I probably don't read often enough has a wonderful poem about this time of year. Here's e.e. cummings on Spring:

[in Just-]

By E. E. Cummings

in Just- 

spring          when the world is mud- 

luscious the little 

lame balloonman 

whistles          far          and wee 

and eddieandbill come 

running from marbles and 

piracies and it's 

spring 

when the world is puddle-wonderful 

the queer 

old balloonman whistles 

far          and             wee 

and bettyandisbel come dancing 

from hop-scotch and jump-rope and 

it's 

spring 

and 

         the 

                  goat-footed 

balloonMan          whistles 

far 

and 

wee

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A new day for MN CD8?

a fog-bound sunrise

Photo by J. Harrington

Today began with a spectacular sunrise. Later, I spent much of the morning at a "meet and greet" with a recently announced candidate for Congress, Gaylene Sporlarich. She reminds me of one of my few political heroes, Bobby Kennedy. Here's an excerpt from her website:

"I’m a working mother who has spent her career advocating for those who are most vulnerable to economic exploitation, social division, and economic injustice.

"I will work to make sure that economic and community development decisions are fair for all the people of our region.

"We need good jobs and economic opportunities in Northeastern Minnesota—but these opportunities should uplift and connect our communities, preparing us for the future.

"As workers in the 8th District, I’d love to hear your thoughts on what a fair and sustainable economic future looks like in our communities."

Here's part of a speech Kennedy delivered at the University of Kansas on March 18, 1968.

"...I run for the presidency because I have seen proud men in the hills of Appalachia, who wish only to work in dignity, but they cannot, for the mines are closed and their jobs are gone and no one - neither industry, nor labor, nor government - has cared enough to help.

"I think we here in this country, with the unselfish spirit that exists in the United States of America, I think we can do better here also.

"I have seen the people of the black ghetto, listening to ever greater promises of equality and of justice, as they sit in the same decaying schools and huddled in the same filthy rooms - without heat - warding off the cold and warding off the rats.

"If we believe that we, as Americans, are bound together by a common concern for each other, then an urgent national priority is upon us.  We must begin to end the disgrace of this other America."

The issues we face today are too much the same as those Kennedy mentioned in his speech of more than 50 years ago, but he also used a word in that speech that I've not heard often enough in political discourse since then, the word hope. ("From the beginning our proudest boast has been the promise of Jefferson, that we, here in this country would be the best hope of mankind.") This morning I heard Gaylene Sporlarich use that same word and it gave me encouragement, that, working together, we may be able to create a future worth having in CD8, the rest of Minnesota, and the rest of the world. To accomplish that, it's necessary that those of us who care make sure we're registered, that we're active participants in our democracy, and that we vote. Active participation may require some of us to attend our local caucuses and conventions etc. I had hoped this year to be disgusted enough with the whole DFL process that I could skip it all and just vote in the general election. This morning I met someone who changed all that. Once again it's time to respond to Peter Drucker's guidance: "The best way to predict your future is to create it."

Once the World Was Perfect

Joy Harjo - 1951-

Once the world was perfect, and we were happy in that world.
Then we took it for granted.
Discontent began a small rumble in the earthly mind.
Then Doubt pushed through with its spiked head.
And once Doubt ruptured the web,
All manner of demon thoughts
Jumped through—
We destroyed the world we had been given
For inspiration, for life—
Each stone of jealousy, each stone
Of fear, greed, envy, and hatred, put out the light.
No one was without a stone in his or her hand.
There we were,
Right back where we had started.
We were bumping into each other
In the dark.
And now we had no place to live, since we didn’t know
How to live with each other.
Then one of the stumbling ones took pity on another
And shared a blanket.
A spark of kindness made a light.
The light made an opening in the darkness.
Everyone worked together to make a ladder.
A Wind Clan person climbed out first into the next world,
And then the other clans, the children of those clans, their children,
And their children, all the way through time—
To now, into this morning light to you.

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February, fading #phenology

For the next several days we're going to enjoy temperatures above freezing, for at least part of each day. That has me believing the snow may someday actually melt, grasses may green, Spring may spring, peepers may peep, and the wildflower seeds I spread last Autumn may germinate and we'll have a micro-prairie out under the burr oak? Anything seems to be possible these days, so why not anticipate some pleasant, even beneficial, surprises. As I've been walking the dogs the past few days, I've been looking at the snow banks sitting on top of where the seeds were spread and starting to wonder:

• how many, if any, will blossom his Spring?
• will they blossom early, late, in between?
• will the rabbit that's over-Wintered under the front stoop nibble them as soon as they sprout?

how long until we see the beginnings of bud burst?

Photo by J. Harrington

Months ago, as I was raking, scattering and tamping, I had major reservations about whether the rewards would be worth the effort. Just the anticipation of what may come is turning into a payoff equal to the planting preparation. Flowers will be the proverbial icing on the cake.
There's still no signs of returning goldfinches, nor purple finches nor juncoes headed North again. Is it possible that four or five days of above freezing temperatures will entice them back, or will we have to wait until most of the snow is gone? Meanwhile, we get to enjoy multitudes of chickadees, white- and red-breasted nuthatches, downey and hairy and red-bellied woodpeckers, plus the occasional visits from a gang of bluejays. We've been seeing more and more bald eagles recently. It's not clear whether they're returning from Winter range or if they overwintered locally, although  I suspect the former.

do we have to wait another month for purple finches?

Photo by J. Harrington

Soon we'll be able to realistically anticipate the return of Canada geese, swans, sandhill cranes and open waters. Perhaps it's my rapidly advancing age, but I'm almost as excited as I used to get when I was a kid looking forward to Santa at Christmas. Spring may not be in the  air quite yet, but it's close enough to make me realize some things are more urgent, for the moment, than politics and about as important.

February

Jill Osier

Sometimes a flag quietly appears

and leads one to a camp in the snow.

Oh, I am sick. I fade, I fall,

I curse this month, all it wants

to be. Its lot is the same

each time, unthawed.

Yet it taunts.

Dreamer month!

Another is just as warm,

as firm, as close to sweat and sigh

as I was, and this month

knows it. This month

sits close-lipped

and wise before the fire.

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Who is the real MN CD8?

Back on President's Day, we posted about what we thought we knew about the Democratic candidates for Congress in our Congressional District, MN CD8. We also promised to provide updates as we learned more. Here's our first update, courtesy of the professionals at MinnPost providing an article today on

Who’s running for Congress in Minnesota in 2020

For the nonce, our interests are more parochial, so we direct your attention to the section in the MinnPost article on Congressional District 8 wherein we learn that one of the candidates we had listed, Marjorie Holstrom-Sabo, has withdrawn. There's no mention in the MinnPost coverage of another candidate we found in the BallotPedia listing, Soren C Sorenson. We've queried MinnPost via email for an explanation and will share any response we get. [UPDATE: MinnPost, in response to our query, has added a summary for Sorenson. see below.]

will MN CD8's future be more of the same?

Photo by J. Harrington

On an even more local front, practically in our back yard, one of the candidates, Gaylene Sporlarich, will be doing a "meet and greet" this Saturday. From the announcement we received:

Also attached is the announcement for an opportunity to Meet Gaylene this Saturday, 9:30 to 10:30 a.m. at Northwoods Roasterie in Lindstrom.  This is being sponsored by Women Thinking Out Loud.  PLEASE SHARE this Saturday event with those you know looking [for] a strong candidate and champion of the environment.  Hope to see you there.

Here are the summaries on Sporlarich and Quinn Nystrom as they appear in the MinnPost coverage (emphasis added):

Nystrom is an insulin affordability advocate running for the DFL-nomination in the Eighth District. Rick Nolan, the former DFL-congressman who represented the district, has endorsed Nystrom. Nystrom has made health care affordability the central tenet of her campaign.

Spolarich has worked for 25 years in local and Mille Lacs Band of Ojibwe tribal government. She's advocating for a bringing more economic opportunity to Northeastern Minnesota.

Sorensen is a candidate for the DFL nomination in the Eighth District. His platform emphasizes human rights and workers rights. Sorensen also sought the nomination in 2018 but was defeated in the primary.

It'll be interesting to see how all of this plays out locally. Will voters in MN CD8 begin to recognize the significance of the assessment recently provided by Aaron Brown, a native Iron Ranger, in the Minnesota Reformer:

No, we need not agree about mining policy or politics to make life here better, perhaps better than it’s ever been. But we must agree on reality. And the reality is we must diversify our economy and open the imaginary borders we draw between us and the rest of the world.

or will we come to be dominated by the kind of populations and politics portrayed in books such as What's the Matter with Kansas or Strangers in Their Own Land?  We each must decide whether we are motivated more by hope for or fear of our future.

For the Consideration of Poets

By Haki R. Madhubuti

where is the poetry of resistance,

                     the poetry of honorable defiance

unafraid of lies from career politicians and business men,

not respectful of journalist who write

official speak void of educated thought

without double search or sub surface questions

that war talk demands?

where is the poetry of doubt and suspicion

not in the service of the state, bishops and priests,

not in the service of beautiful people and late night promises,

not in the service of influence, incompetence and academic

         clown talk?

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Of land use and sustenance

Back at last year's Winter Solstice, I posted that my first quarter reading list for this year would include Steinbeck's Grapes of Wrath. Starting some time after Christmas, I proceeded to spend several weeks searching through our library archives for my copy of that book. You know, the one I've held onto since college days? Today I used a Christmas gift certificate at Scout & Morgan to replace the still unfound college copy with a centennial edition. To accompany the story of the Joads, I also got a copy of two of Wendell Berry's books of essays: Bringing It to the Table and Standing By Words. The latter is focused on poetry and  the former on farming and food. Also, to honor the times we live in and the significant of events that should culminate this coming November, I finally yielded to a long-standing urge to get and read Seamus Heaney's translation of Beowulf.

The poem is about encountering the monstrous, defeating it, and then having to live on in the exhausted aftermath.

That description from the back cover of Heaney's version seems frighteningly fitting, especially since living on means tackling and adapting to our climate breakdown.So, I now have two works by two separate Nobel laureates in my "To Be Read" stack and, as a consequence, will be wasting spending much less time on social media for the foreseeable future. Warmer days will undoubtedly be of assistance in that effort, as I wander outside more and more to see what Winter's left behind and Spring is bringing  on. A reduced exposure to the levels of stupidity and hostility too often found on social media should enhance my general outlook on life and improve my blood pressure too.

FIGURE 1: PROJECT DRAWDOWN FOOD SECTOR FRAMEWORK

I recently volunteered to help do something about our climate emergency. I mean something more than write about how not enough people are doing enough about it. I found an organization being guided by at least some of the Drawdown Project solutions listed in the food sector. The Drawdown solutions are split between 13 on the supply side and 4 on the demand side. The group I'm volunteering with works on "encouraging new models of agriculture that sequester atmospheric carbon instead of releasing it." In particular, our scope includes:

Demand-Side Solutions:

Plant-rich diet – reduced emissions associated with reduced livestock production by emphasizing plant-based foods in wealthy countries, while increasing food security and healthy diets. Avoids emissions from land clearing for agriculture by reducing demand.

Reduced food waste – reducing emissions from agriculture by using its products more efficiently, including redistribution of food before it is wasted. Avoids emissions from land clearing for agriculture by reducing demand.

Supply-Side Solution:

Regenerative agriculture – an annual crop production system that includes at least four of the following practices: green manure, compost application, organic production, cover crops, crop rotation, and/or reduced tillage.

For now, I'm going to spend time and energy learning about and exploring the three solutions listed above, in part because I'm most familiar with the demand side but I also want to learn more about regenerative agriculture's possibilities. So you can, in future visits, expect to see postings alluding to the Joads, Grendel, poetry, words, and/or local food that's prepared and consumed well. Knowing me, I'll undoubtedly sneak in other topics as we go along.

2008, XII

Wendell Berry - 1934-

My people are destroyed for lack of knowledge…
Hosea 4:6

We forget the land we stand on
and live from. We set ourselves
free in an economy founded
on nothing, on greed verified
by fantasy, on which we entirely
depend.  We depend on fire
that consumes the world without
lighting it.  To this dark blaze
driving the inert metal
of our most high desire
we offer our land as fuel,
thus offering ourselves at last
to be burned. This is our riddle
to which the answer is a life
that none of us has lived.

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Finding a cure for hiraeth?

I moved to Minnesota more than forty years ago. (Yes, I am that old.) As much as I've found to love about my adopted home: the Driftless Area, the rivers, the North Shore and Boundary Waters Area, Western prairies, the writing and reading communities, the pockets of New England architecture along the St. Croix, ..., I've yet to feel comfortably at home here. I think I've come across an explanation in a book called The Old Ways, by Robert Macfarlane.  Citing Barry Cunliffe's Facing the Ocean, Macfarlane writes:

"... a shared cultural identity developed over ten millennia along this Atlantic facade, such that Galicians, Celts, Bretons and Hebrideans might be said to have had more in common with one another than with their 'inland kin'. Kenneth White proposes the recovery of 'lost wavelengths' and 'Atlantic sensations,' the suggestion that  there are ways of feeling and thinking that are inspired and conditioned by the fact of long-term living on an ocean edge...."

I see no reason why such assessments should be limited to the Eastern shores of the "big pond." So, as I've mentioned numerous times, I was born in Boston, a Western Atlantic port city, grew up there and suburbs South of it, but always within a few miles of the Atlantic. Summers I often spent as much or more time in or on salt water than inland.

in many ways, Duluth is reminiscent of Boston

Photo by J. Harrington

It's now reassuring to learn that an ocean affinity is far from mine alone and that the differences between my natal and my adopted home places isn't just social (I still don't do "Minnesota Nice" at all well) but a more deeply embedded cultural identity. Perhaps now that I've found out about my Atlantic cultural identity, I'll be more able to relax and follow a version of Stephen Stills advice from my youth, "if you can't be in the place you love, love the place you're in." The version I follow, however, will not fail to remember that Winters close to the Atlantic were milder and briefer than those  found in the North Country, even now that we've broken the climate.

Home

Carl Sandburg - 1878-1967

Here is a thing my heart wishes the world had more of:
I heard it in the air of one night when I listened
To a mother singing softly to a child restless and angry
 in the darkness.

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Which side are we on?

I must have dozed off at some point and the world, at least in Minnesota Congressional District 8, changed. Ballotpedia confirmed some news I learned yesterday and added some more. There are now 4 Democratic candidates for Congress in our district. That's what it says at Minnesota's 8th Congressional District election, 2020. [UPDATE: I don't feel quite as bad since, effective 10:00 am today, our local DFL party website only listed two candidates. I'm sure there's a good reason, like a candidate or supporter hasn't yet notified the District 32 DFLers? If I learn why only two, I'll share it in a future posting.] Where were we? Until yesterday, I knew of only one DFL candidate in MN-CD8. Ballotpedia also notes that three political rating entities all currently suggest that a Blue Wave isn't likely to wash our Republican member of congress out of his seat. Maybe, if enough Democrats and Independents actually turn out and vote, those pundits may be proven wrong.


Having written the preceding paragraph, it's time to drag out two of my favorite quotations. The first is attributed to Yogi Berra:

“It's tough to make predictions, especially about the future.”

The second comes from, among others, Peter Drucker, famous management consultant and author:

“The best way to predict the future is to create it.”

Now, to create a more desirable future in MN-CD8, Democrats need to decide which, if any, of the four candidates to endorse at party caucuses on February 25, and for whom to vote in the state primary election on August 11. The options at the moment are:

• Marjorie Holmstrom-Sabo [UPDATE: Withdrew]


• Quinn Nystrom


• Soren Christian Sorensen


• Gaylene Spolarich

Three of the candidates are women. The candidate I knew was running is Quinn Nystrom. The candidate I first learned about yesterday is Gaylene Spolarich. [Full Disclosure: I was a supporter of Leah Phifer as the Democratic candidate in 2018. She ultimately withdrew her candidacy.] A major reason I supported Phifer is she favored a diversified, greener economy for the  district. I'm looking for a similar approach to economic and community development issues, plus environmental protection, this election. The first time I heard about Gaylene Spolarich, she was described as a "pro-clean water candidate." That's very encouraging. I'm going to spend some time over the next few days getting caught up on what I can learn about where the candidates stand on the issues I care about. I'll share my thoughts here.

Ely, MN tourist attraction: reclaimed mine pit

Photo by J. Harrington

The politics of mining will no doubt play an outsized role in this election. The latest evidence of that that I've seen is in this article from the Hibbing Daily Tribune: BAKK CANCELS POLITICAL FUNDRAISER AT FORTUNE BAY. Those of us who live South of mining country should probably be paying more attention and spend more time researching candidates and issues or we're liable to find an economic activity with a long, strong track record of abusing both the environment and taxpayers dollars have managed to get a non-representative Representative elected to Congress.

Politics

By Randall Mann

This is what he dreams of:

a map of burned land,

a mound of dirt

in the early century’s winter.

A map of burned land?

A country is razed

in the early century’s winter.

And God descends.

A country is raised

because of industry.

And God descends,

messengers rush inside

because of industry,

in spite of diplomats.

Messengers rush inside

to haunt the darkened aisles.

In spite of diplomats,

the witnesses know well

to haunt the darkened aisles,

experimentally—

the witnesses know well

that ushers dressed in black

experimentally

lurk by the cushioned seats.

That ushers dress in black

should tell you something:

lurking by the cushioned seats,

the saved and the terrible.

I should tell you something:

this is what he dreams of,

the saved and the terrible—

a mound of dirt.

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February, blown away #phenology

Midweek last the snow-covered slope behind the house, the one whose crest runs North-South, the one on which the pear tree stands, was marked by several well-defined deer trails leading to and from the pear tree. Then, we had several days and nights of strong Southerly winds. Now, the snow covering the slope looks unviolated, scoured clean, deer trails filled in with wind-blown snow. The heavily-hoof-trampled snow along the wood's edge has also been wind-wiped clean as a new whiteboard, untouched by any dry marker. Even snowmobile tracks along the road have been mostly erased. Since, thanks to our thaw-freeze cycle, much of the snow was crusted over and the recent snowfall was pretty light, it's not clear where the loose snow came from. I don't recall ever seeing anything quite like it.

before the wind, hillside snow with tracks

Photo by J. Harrington

The local squirrels, at least the reds and grays, are now chasing each other (reds on reds and grays on grays more than mixed) and wrestling in irrational exuberance of forthcoming Spring and expanded squirrel populations. The sun has returned North to the point that it's rising at the midpoint of the East-facing window in the office. We are now less than two weeks from the start of meteorological Spring. If the weather forecast is accurate, by this time next weekend we should be in the midst of a major melt. But first, there's tonight's and tomorrow's snow plus freezing drizzle mix to enjoy, with the possibility of more snow at the beginning of the week following next.

after the wind, hillside snow without tracks

Photo by J. Harrington

With luck, and good karma, sometime soon we should start to see the return of goldfinches and the arrival of Spring migrants headed North. Personally, I'm looking forward to enjoying a couple of morning sipping coffee and watching the downspouts flow and, maybe, the gutters overflow. I've enjoyed this season long enough. I'm hoping that the next strong breeze, come March?, will help me fly my dragon kite. There was too much snow cover around here to celebrate the official National Kite-flying Day on February 8.

Agoraphobia

By Linda Pastan

"Yesterday the bird of night did sit,
Even at noon-day, upon the marketplace,
Hooting and shrieking."

—William Shakespeare

1.

Imagine waking

to a scene of snow so new   

not even memories

of other snow

can mar its silken

surface. What other innocence   

is quite like this,

and who can blame me

for refusing

to violate such whiteness

with the booted cruelty

of tracks?

2.

Though I cannot leave this house,   

I have memorized the view

from every window—

23 framed landscapes, containing   

each nuance of weather and light.   

And I know the measure

of every room, not as a prisoner   

pacing a cell

but as the embryo knows

the walls of the womb, free

to swim as its body tells it, to nudge   

the softly fleshed walls,

dreading only the moment

of contraction when it will be forced   

into the gaudy world.

3.

Sometimes I travel as far

as the last stone

of the path, but

every step,

as in the children's story,

pricks that tender place

on the bottom of the foot,

and like an ebbing tide with all

the obsession of the moon behind it,   

I am dragged back.

4.

I have noticed in windy fall

how leaves are torn from the trees,   

each leaf waving goodbye to the oak   

or the poplar that housed it;

how the moon, pinned

to the very center of the window,

is like a moth wanting only to break in.   

What I mean is this house

follows all the laws of lintel and ridgepole,   

obeys the commandments of broom   

and of needle, custom and grace.

It is not fear that holds me here but passion   

and the uncrossable moat of moonlight   

outside the bolted doors.

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