Memorial Day weekend starts summer mode

The planters by the front porch have been freshly planted by the Better Half. I helped hang hanging baskets of fuchsia on which I will bump my head all summer. Cleanup of the autumn / winter / spring mess of fallen leaves and broken branches continues. We’ve even started mowing a little as the broken branches are collected and thrown on the brush pile. I keep trying to convince myself the fresh air and exercise are good for me and that I’m enjoying seeing the butterflies and wildflowers (mostly hoary puccoon) as I work. (They are and I do.)

a cluster of hoary puccoon, bright yellow wildflowers

Photo by J. Harrington

The serviceberry bushes I planted a week ago are persisting to live. The weather forecast indicates they’ll need hand watering this coming week. They arrived after flowering season this year but I’m looking forward to seeing their fall colors in four or five months, although I don’t want to rush the seasons.

Once again this year downy and hairy woodpeckers are feasting on the nectar feeder we’ve hung for the hummingbirds and orioles. The latter haven’t yet noticed a grape jelly feeder we hung a couple of days ago but the male red-breasted grosbeaks seem to like a taste from time to time. Male American goldfinches are in bright, chrome yellow plumage and frequently fighting with each other. Most of the wild turkeys have disappeared. Hens are incubating eggs. I’m not sure what the toms are up to.

One side benefit of getting outside and doing some yard work: not once in the several hours I was busy outside did I think about what the idiots in D.C. are down to, nor how much they’re wrecking, our country and the lives of many of US. I’m hoping for and looking forward to a similar mental status when I finally manage to get out fly fishing.

At the Retirement Home

Tony Barnstone

^{U.S. Soldier, 194th Armored Regiment, retired, Brainerd, Minnesota}

I’ve had both knees replaced. I’ve got a steel
pin in my hip. I don’t hear you so good,
but I’m not stupid, son. How would you feel,
surviving the Bataan Death March, no food
for days, no water, and the ones who fell
behind were bayoneted where they lay,
and now you’re marching off to death? Real hell
is not old age, though. No, taking away
the rights we died for, saying torture’s right,
that’s hell. Hand me the iron and those shirts,
would you? Thanks, son. As long as I have fight
in me I’ll love this country till it hurts.
And it does. This is worse than what I saw
overseas. Torture. In America.

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Thanks for visiting. Come again when you can.
Please be kind to each other while you can.

March into June during May

A recent spell of days with temperatures rising to the upper 80’s to low 90’s, plus sunny weather, was broken by a series of thunderstorms, leaving us with days full of wet, windy, cloudy, much cooler weather with temperatures reaching only the upper 50’s to mid-60’s. I took advantage of the cooler, wetter, weather to plant a pair of Serviceberry bushes in the back yard. My inspiration derived from Robin Wall Kimmerer’s book, Serviceberry, as well as Leanne Betasamosake Simpson’s theory of water. Plus, I planted the “shadbushes" in memory of the shad fishing I used to do long ago during May in Massachusetts and in memory of a long-time friend who walked on several years ago, after he followed a career in public service with a stint at the nursery where I bought the Amelanchier “Standing Ovation” cultivars.

The contrary mixed-up months' weather has hindered spring yard cleanup. Winter storms brought down more dead branches, as usual, and a couple of sickly trees. Before the wood gets gathered up, I want to reduce existing brush piles to ashes. Too much wind or too wet wood has been the case for the past month or so. Maybe next week? I’m trying to react to all of this piling on with a “learn to live with Nature” philosophy, but some days that’s a real struggle.

back yard lilac bush in bloom, last year

Photo by J. Harrington

The lilac bushes in front of the house have finally bloomed, about a week behind those south of us in the Twin Cities urban heat island. The bush in the back yard is just beginning to bloom. Seeing and smelling lilacs in bloom takes me back to grammar school and the yearly period just before summer vacation. The nuns prohibited lilac bouquets in classrooms because, they claimed, it made us students sleepy headed. I could never notice a difference in my friends or myself between lilac time and the rest of the year. Although, when weather approaches normal patterns, May, with or without lilac flowers, is often a sleepy-headed month as we gradually warm up and ease into summer’s “lazy, hazy, crazy days.”

Sprig of Lilac

Hyam Plutzik
1911 – 1962

Their heads grown weary under the weight of Time—
These few hours on the hither side of silence—
The lilac sprigs bend on the bough to perish.

Though each for its own sake is beautiful,
In each is the greater, the remembered beauty.
Each is exemplar of its ancestors.

Within the flower of the present, uneasy in the wind,
Are the forms of those of the years behind the door.
Their faint aroma touches the edge of the mind.

And the living and the past give to one another.
There is no door between them.  They pass freely
Out of themselves; becoming one another.

I see the lilac sprigs bending and withering.
Each year like Adonis they pass through the dumb-show of death,
Waxing and waning on the tree in the brain of a man.

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Thanks for visiting. Come again when you can.
Please be kind to each other while you can.

Back to the future?

Yesterday was a Red Flag day and not just because it was Mother's Day! Low humidity, winds gusting into the low thirties mph, plus no precipitation for a week or so raised the grass fire danger over much of the state. We get this morning off and the Red Flag returns at noon for the afternoon and evening. Please keep your fingers crossed that all those exposed to danger and destruction stay safe. These days that includes about all of US and most other Earthlings, doesn't it?

brush fire: not all burns are controlled

Photo by J. Harrington

Have you noticed that many librarians are moving 1984 and Brave New World from the fiction to the nonfiction section? That's disheartening, to put it mildly. Although the term Anthropocene has been rejected as a new geological epoch, I think there's a more hopeful future for the term and those living during it. It will become known as the period in which humans finally became wise enough to stop destroying the life support systems of their home planet. This assessment is based on a growing number of books that flag intelligent and successful environmental restoration movements growing world-wide. Here's a few titles for your consideration:

• What if We Get It Right?, Ayana Elizabeth Johnson
• Carbon, Paul Hawken
• Hydrate the Earth, Ananda Fitzsimmons, and
• Is a River Alive?, Robert Macfarlane

I'm rereading the third title, almost finished each of the first two, and looking forward to getting a copy of the fourth next month as a gift. To paraphrase from the opening of the original Star Wars crawl: "A long time ago in on a galaxy planet far, far away [in time]...." the First People(s) believed Earth a sacred part of the Great Mystery. If you're old enough, you'll recognize where we borrowed this from: "Return with us now to those thrilling days of yesteryear."

I don't know about you, but I think it'd be great if we all stopped trying to burn up our home planet and dedicated more to tending what's left and restoring what we've trashed. Otherwise, we won't be the ancestors our children and theirs needed.

        Salvage

Ada Limón
1976 –

On the top of Mount Pisgah, on the western
slope of the Mayacamas, there’s a madrone
tree that’s half-burned from the fires, half-alive
from nature’s need to propagate. One side
of her is black ash and at her root is what
looks like a cavity that was hollowed out
by flame. On the other side, silvery green
broadleaf shoots ascend toward the winter
light and her bark is a cross between a bay
horse and a chestnut horse, red and velvety
like the animal’s neck she resembles. I have
been staring at the tree for a long time now.
I am reminded of the righteousness I had
before the scorch of time. I miss who I was.
I miss who we all were, before we were this: half
alive to the brightening sky, half dead already.
I place my hand on the unscarred bark that is cool
and unsullied, and because I cannot apologize
to the tree, to my own self I say, I am sorry.
I am sorry I have been so reckless with your life.

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Thanks for visiting. Come again when you can.
Please be kind to each other while you can.

for the children

 Leaf buds are burst. Leaf out has begun. The creeping Charlie in front of the house  has pretty little blue flowers. The lily of the valley patch along the driveway is about half a foot tall. Spring is sprunging everywhere. Today's temperature is in the upper 70's approaching 80. Next Sunday is Mother's Day. The humming bird / oriole feeder has been filled and hung.

Image Credit: NASA/NOAA/GSFC/Suomi
NPP/VIIRS/Norman Kuring

I'm trying, and sometimes failing, to not let the craziness emanating out of the state and national capitols sour me on the world and many of its inhabitants. When I stop doom scrolling and look around I can find beauty and goodness. Let's see if I feel optimistic enough this week to go buy a fishing license. 🤞

I bet you know that Minnesota's constitution has provisions governing spending lottery funds on environmental projects but doesn't have a "Green Amendment" establishing our right to clean air, clean water and a healthy environment. That strikes me as being a cart before the horse kind of deal. There's an organization / movement, Green Amendments For the Generations, with the mission:

to ensure every person and community across the United States is able to experience the health, quality of life, education, joy and economic prosperity provided by a clean, safe and healthy environment; to end environmental racism; and to help ensure that nature itself is able to thrive, by constitutionally empowering all people to secure and enforce their inalienable human right to pure water, clean air, a stable climate, healthy ecosystems and environments.

Minnesota is not listed as one of the states active in the Green Amendment movement. I'm curious to see if I can get a handle on why and how we might be able to change that. Please feel free to share thoughts in the comments

The Green Amendments movement is similar to but not the same as the Rights of Nature movement. The former focuses on anthropocentric values and the latter on nature's intrinsic values. I think we should look toward a "both and" approach rather than an either / or situation, but it may well turn out to be a one step at a time movement. Now that Minnesota is the headwaters of America's Most Threatened River, the Mississippi, perhaps the powers that be may become more amenable to the proverbial "clean up our act" effort. Stay tuned.

Today's poem is one of my own that I was fortunate enough to find a home for in a book by a friend of ours, Krista Detor's Flat Earth Diary. Most of those who will benefit from Green Amendments aren't yet born or grown up.

        A Way 

Earth's children grow
leave home
go away where
dragons roam

dragons fly aweigh
to lands on maps
filled with children grown
away from home

Hubble captures dragons a way from home
away from children
aweigh in space

children young and old
pass away as dragons fly
where earth aweigh
finds a way
to roam
home 

J Harrington

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Thanks for visiting. Come again when you can.
Please be kind to each other while you can.