Linking the personal and the universal

Once again snowmelt is dripping off the deck, which should become snowless tomorrow or the next day. Skies are blue, sun is shining, temperature is in the mid-40's, much is well. We read a piece this morning that really resonated with us, here's a sample of why:

My goal is to live on this sweet earth while I am still here, while it is still here. That means as much time as possible in the woods; as much time as possible in the garden (flowers, herbs, vegetables). My goal is to invite friends over. To put the kettle on for tea. 

The quotation is from Robin MacArthur's website posting for March of this year. We think we first encountered her writing in Orion magazine a decade or so ago and later bought and read Contemporary Vermont Fiction, which she edited for Green Writers Press, and still later enjoyed her short story collection, Half Wild. Although she is a Vermonter, she has a legitimate connection to Minnesota since she is one half of the indie folk duo Red Heart the Ticker, which has been featured on A Prairie Home Companion.

red squirrel supervising snowmelt

Photo by J. Harrington

To return to the quotation, it occurs to us, more than a little belatedly, that MacArthur's goal statement is one we should adopt for ourself. We spend a disproportionate amount of time reading and thinking about how to save what's left of the only home we have. Now we also need to temper and balance that with more time enjoying that home we're trying to save, plus fixing some of what we've broken while we're at it. Perhaps the loss, within the past week or so, of both Lawrence Ferlinghetti and Peter Ostroushko, among others, has heightened our sensitivity to the reality that our time here is limited and we must enjoy it while we can. Perhaps the return of Spring is again making us nostalgic for our place of origin, New England's ocean and mountains. No doubt it's some of all of the above, compounded by what seems like a never-ending pandemic and the stress relief of the beginnings of a return of some elements of sanity to our nation's capital. We suspect the recent arrival of a member of the generation after next in our family also prompt's us to want to leave the place no worse than we found it and to share ways to enjoy what's still here.

In those veins, we commend for your reading Ms. MacArthur's web site, linked above. We also offer this tribute to Lawrence Ferlinghetti by Peter Coyote. We watched it last night and were very pleased we did. For that matter, you may also enjoy this conversation with Gary Snyder and Peter Coyote. But first, get outside and enjoy the melt-off.

I Went into the Maverick Bar

By Gary Snyder

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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