What are we here for?

It’s the end of March; the beginning of Spring. The back yard and the driveway are covered in an inch or so of fresh snow. More storms, with a possibility of more snow, are forecast for Tuesday night and Wednesday. Meanwhile,, a flock of more than a dozen wild turkey hens came out of the woods to visit the back yard Sunday. On Monday, three or four toms and jake turkeys were displaying to most or all of the flock of hens. A few whitetail deer also have wandered through from time to time. Springtime in the North Country is full of surprises. I’m working hard to temper my expectations and enjoy much of whatever comes next. That seems to work better with Mother Nature than with current versions of American government and politics.

hen turkey flock sunning in the back yard

Photo by J. Harrington

This morning I presented myself with a challenge: what would happen if I tried to find as many opportunities to demonstrate in favor of things I want instead of things I don’t want. I suspect I’d be more than a little frustrated. Then again, the country doesn’t yet have an Equal Rights Amendment. We are far from where we should be to respond effectively to a growing climate crisis. We seem to need many more leaders like Ayana Elizabeth Johnson to move the climate needle far and fast enough. (Full disclosure: I’ve yet to complete my own version of a climate action Venn diagram. I hereby make a public commitment to completing a personal version before posting again on this blog.) We’re nowhere near meeting the 1972 Clean Water Act's 1983 goal of “fishable-swimmable” water. Let’s not even get started on the loss of biodiversity issue and/or the increase in economic inequality. I bet the Venn diagram worksheet could readily be adapted to other issues that need support.

In his book, Cradle to Cradle, William McDonough writes about "Why Being ‘Less Bad’ Is No Good.” Among the things we make are environmental laws. What if we work more, and harder, and smarter, to create better laws that support indigenous rights of nature, for clean water, and air, and productive soils that exist for their own sakes. What would Venn diagrams for that approach look and read like? Can we afford to settle for any less? Do you remember the punch line from the old joke about “the operation was a success, but the patient died?” Isn’t that what we’re setting ourselves up for?

Characteristics of Life

Camille T. Dungy
1972 – 

^{A fifth of animals without backbones could be at risk of extinction, say scientists.
—BBC Nature News}

Ask me if I speak for the snail and I will tell you
I speak for the snail.
                          speak of underneathedness
and the welcome of mosses,
                                        of life that springs up,
little lives that pull back and wait for a moment.

I speak for the damselfly, water skeet, mollusk,
the caterpillar, the beetle, the spider, the ant.
                                                        I speak
from the time before spinelessness was frowned upon.

Ask me if I speak for the moon jelly. I will tell you
                        one thing today and another tomorrow
        and I will be as consistent as anything alive
on this earth.

                        I move as the currents move, with the breezes.
What part of your nature drives you? You, in your cubicle
ought to understand me. I filter and filter and filter all day.

Ask me if I speak for the nautilus and I will be silent
as the nautilus shell on a shelf. I can be beautiful
and useless if that's all you know to ask of me.

Ask me what I know of longing and I will speak of distances
        between meadows of night-blooming flowers.
                                                        I will speak
                        the impossible hope of the firefly.

                                                You with the candle
burning and only one chair at your table must understand
        such wordless desire.

                                To say it is mindless is missing the point. 

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United we stand ...

Today I’m (re)posting the story below because, as much  as I dislike MAGAts, I keep wondering who is benefitting from our being at each others' throats and in each others' faces. I really hate being played for a sucker.

Using Art to Bridge the Rural-Urban Divide

by Anya Petrone Slepyan, The Daily Yonder
March 21, 2025

As the 2024 election approached, news channels and commentators once again revived a familiar narrative: the urban-rural divide. 

But Laura Zabel, executive director of Minnesota-based arts non-profit Springboard for the Arts, was more interested in urban-rural solidarity. 

“Going into an election year, we knew that there was going to be a lot of narrative that focused on ways we might be different, or ways that people assume we’re different,” Zabel said. “And we wanted to do something to not only counter that narrative, but to help people build real relationships and real solidarity across urban and rural places.” 

Stoking resentment between urban and rural communities serves to divide largely working-class constituencies that could gain more political power if they work together, Zabel said. Emphasizing what these communities have in common, across different geographies and demographics, can help counter that divide. But it’s not easy to overcome a narrative that is so deeply ingrained that many Americans take it for granted.

So Springboard for the Arts launched a new initiative, consisting of over 35 artists working on projects across Minnesota, Michigan, Kentucky, and Colorado that connect urban and rural communities. The installations include phone booths that connect communities in rural Northfield, Minnesota and Minneapolis, a culinary project that celebrates the fusion of a chef’s Southeast Asian roots and rural midwestern upbringing, and a Kentucky poetry slam honoring the renowned theorist and professor bell hooks.

Artists Drew Arrieta and Maddy Barsch created cozy phone booths that connected the communities of Minneapolis and Northfield, Minnesota. (Photo by Drew Arrieta)

The results, Zabel said, demonstrate “all of the different ways that we’re connected, and all of the different creative ways that we might reach out to one another and build that kind of understanding.” 

Using art projects to foster connection and understanding is effective, according to Zabel, because they leave room for nuance and complexity that is often flattened by media narratives.  Creative projects can also help people approach new ideas with a more open mind, she said. 

“Art has a tremendous ability to build shared experience in ways that takes people outside of their comfort zone, or makes people more open to thinking of things in a different way,” Zabel said.

A project installed in two Minnesota elementary schools demonstrates the principles behind the projects. Artist David Hamlow worked with 2nd and 3rd graders in rural St. James and urban Minneapolis to design wall sculptures made of recycled materials. Each student was also given a yearbook photo of a participating student from the other school, and asked to incorporate that picture into the sculpture. The resulting walls of faces serve a purpose similar to pen pals, according to Zabel.

Each student was given a class portrait of their counterpart at a different school, and asked to decorate the picture with recycled materials. (Photo by David Hamlow)

“The goal of this whole project in a nutshell is to just get people thinking about one another as individuals and as people who are living full lives and having similar experiences and to help people be more curious about what those lives might be like,” Zabel said.

The youth-focused project also hopes to reach urban and rural children before they’ve internalized the harmful stereotypes these communities can apply to one another. 

Project installations by the initial class of 35 artists are ongoing, but Zabel hopes to expand the initiative further in coming years.

“I think that if we are able to build greater understanding and connection, and help people see a more complete picture of what it looks like to live in different contexts, we end up finding out that there is a lot of shared interest and shared hope for our future and our children,” Zabel said.

This article first appeared on The Daily Yonder and is republished here under a Creative Commons license.

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Approaching Vernal Equinox

We have once again survived the conversion to daylight savings time. Tomorrow is St. Patrick’s Day. We wish a happy one to those who celebrate. This morning a ball of Irish soda bread dough went into the oven and made the house smell wonderful for awhile as it baked. The Better Half is cooking corned beef for tonight’s dinner. I’m wearing a green t-shirt, socks, and shoes today and will be attired in something similar tomorrow. I’m of Irish extraction as they say in my hometown of Boston

Unfortunately, since January 20, we appear to be blessed not by anyone good at driving out snakes, but with St. Upid. Many of US wish him a quick trip back to Apprenticeland, or wherever, until he learns how to behave with civilized people who lack the forbearance of, or for, some saints.

St. Upid, Patron Saint of Economic Collapse

We’ve already had our first 70 degree day and some thunder. Many waterfowl have returned over the past few days. Weeping willows are turning golden. Red osier dogwood has brightened. There’s only a few small patches of snow left, if that. There's snow in the forecast for the day before Spring arrives which, in Minnesota, isn't terribly surprising. In years past, we've had snow every month of the year but one. This year is looking like a tarriffic one for all kinds of volatility and roller coaster rides.

I spend too much time doom scrolling and hope to soon find something more enjoyable to do instead. Fly fishing, anyone? Then again, though I've not yet acquired the skill to turn away from watching an impending train wreck, I do hope we won’t soon be forbidden to wear certain colors, especially since “Spring Is a New Beginning."

"The Wearing of the Green" Lyrics

Oh, Paddy dear, did you hear the news that's going 'round?

The shamrock is forbid by law to grow on Irish ground

Saint Patrick's Day no more to keep, his color can't be seen

For there's a bloody law again' the Wearing of the Green.

I met with Napper Tandy and he took me by the hand

And he said, "How's poor old Ireland and how does she stand?"

"She's the most distressful country that ever yet was seen

For they're hanging men and women there for Wearing of the Green."

She's the most distressful country that ever yet was seen

For they're hanging men and women there for Wearing of the Green.

Then since the color we must wear is England's cruel red

Sure Ireland's sons will never forget the blood that they have shed

You may pull the shamrock from your hat and cast it on the sod

But 'twill take root and flourish there, though underfoot 'tis trod.

When laws can stop the blades of grass for growing as they grow

And when the leaves in summertime their verdure dare not show

Then I will change the color too I wear in my caubeen*

But 'til that day, please God, I'll stick to Wearing of the Green.

She's the most distressful country that ever yet was seen

For they're hanging men and women there for Wearing of the Green.

But if at last our color should be torn from Ireland's heart

Her sons, with shame and sorrow, from the dear old Isle will part

I've heard a whisper of a land that lies beyond the sea

Where rich and poor stand equal in the light of Freedom's day.

Ah, Erin, must we leave you, driven by a tyrant's hand

Must we seek a mother's blessing from a strange and distant land

Where the cruel cross of England shall never more be seen

And where, please God, we'll live and die, still Wearing of the Green.

She's the most distressful country that ever yet was seen

For they're hanging men and women there for Wearing of the Green.

*"Caubeen" is an Irish word for a certain type of hat, similar to a beret.

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Time for rebirth

The snow cover is leaving, again. This time perhaps until the start oof next winter. We’ll see. It’s about time, since sandhill cranes should arrive soon. Signs of open water have appeared on the creek north of the property. The Sunrise river has been at least partly open for more than a week now. Perhaps the rebirth of nature will help trigger a similar rebirth of sanity and what passed for democracy for US. The continued and increasing insanity emanating from Washington, D.C. and Mar-a-Lardo has put me in a deep funk. I may have done better anticipating the outcome of last November’s election if I had kept in mind H.L. Mencken’s all too true observation: “No one in this world, so far as I know... has ever lost money by underestimating the intelligence of the great masses of the plain people.” I doubt we’ll accomplish much to increase their intelligence by banning books, words, or ideas but that won’t stop kakistocrats from trying.

ice and snow melts, open water flows

Photo by J. Harrington

I continue to hope that what we’re experiencing will turn into a non-fatal wake up call that facilitates a societal, economic and cultural transformation for US. Money has become too dominant a measure of success in life. I continue to look toward (the original) Robert F. Kennedy’s assessment:

Yet the gross national product does not allow for the health of our children, the quality of their education or the joy of their play. It does not include the beauty of our poetry or the strength of our marriages, the intelligence of our public debate or the integrity of our public officials. It measures neither our wit nor our courage, neither our wisdom nor our learning, neither our compassion nor our devotion to our country, it measures everything in short, except that which makes life worthwhile. And it can tell us everything about America except why we are proud that we are Americans.

Perhaps the current malaise among Democrats could be eased, even erased, if they read, contemplated, and responded to Kennedy's entire speech from which the extract above was derived. Some of US are reaching a point at which we are no longer “proud that we are Americans.”

Rebecca Solnit has written about “Hope in the Dark: Untold Histories, Wild Possibilities.” For any who ever claimed democracy was easy, they probably changed their mind when they discovered the barbarians inside the gates. We can do better. We have done better. We will do better. We must. It’s imperative for US to share why we are proud too be Americans as we work together to fulfill the promises embodied in our Declaration of Independence as we recognize our interdependence on each other and the air, water, soil and habitats on which we are totally dependent.

Narcissus

Patricia Hooper

Near the path through the woods I’ve seen it:
a trail of white candles.

I could find it again, I could follow
its light deep into shadows.

Didn’t I stand there once? 
Didn’t I choose to go back

down the cleared path, the familiar?
Narcissus, you said. Wasn’t this

the flower whose sudden enchantments
led Persephone down into Hades?

You remember the way she was changed
when she came every spring, having seen

the withering branches, the chasms,
and how she had to return there

helplessly, having eaten
the seed of desire. What was it

I saw you were offering me
without meaning to, there in the sunlight,

while the flowers beckoned and shone
in their flickering season?

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Advice for these times from times past

There’s an old piece of advice that goes something like “If you can’t say something good, don’t say anything at all.” There will be no political commentary forthcoming from this source today. if we had a third major political party in our country, we could call the parties: Larry, Moe and Curly.

On to better news, we’ve made it to meteorological spring. Astronomical spring begins locally with the seasonal equinox on Thursday, March 20, 2025 at 4:01 am CDT. Snow is in the forecast for this coming Tuesday and, a week later, the high temperature is forecast to reach the low 60’s. Make of that what you will. I see few options but to try to ride the roller coasters of weather and politics as best I can and try to follow another old piece of advice: Illegitimi non carborundum [Don't let the bastards grind you down].

spring greening, life reviving

Photo by J. Harrington

Last week I successfully completed my two major objectives, I policed the dog droppings and, in a frustratingly similar effort, organized and delivered the tax data to the preparer. I’ll pick up the results from the preparer tomorrow. The dog’s materials are in the trash can for collection tomorrow. May all bad luck go with them to repeat another old phrase.

Back in the days when I went to grammar school, I was taught by nuns. They always counseled us kids if someone we knew was sick, we should pray for “a happy recovery or a speedy death." [Either would end the suffering if the individual was in a state of grace. If not, and a speedy death occurred, suffering could be eternal.] I can see no way that those who support #45 a&b [aka #47] could continue to do so unless they were suffering from some sort of disease. I think that means the Christian and humane behavior for US is to follow the guidance the nuns provided. Let’s all of US pray for a speedy recovery or happy death for all those supporting the current regime in D.C. and Mar-a-Lardo. It should do US a lot of good if our prayers are promptly answered. Maybe we could even avoid the worst of March’s snow jobs.

Instructions on Not Giving Up

Ada Limón
1976 – 

More than the fuchsia funnels breaking out
of the crabapple tree, more than the neighbor’s
almost obscene display of cherry limbs shoving
their cotton candy-colored blossoms to the slate
sky of Spring rains, it’s the greening of the trees
that really gets to me. When all the shock of white
and taffy, the world’s baubles and trinkets, leave
the pavement strewn with the confetti of aftermath,
the leaves come. Patient, plodding, a green skin
growing over whatever winter did to us, a return
to the strange idea of continuous living despite
the mess of us, the hurt, the empty. Fine then,
I’ll take it, the tree seems to say, a new slick leaf
unfurling like a fist to an open palm, I’ll take it all.

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