It is chilly these days and today we had measurable rain. The subtle shifts of color to red and orange have turned to brown and down (on the ground). Tonight the clouds have dissipated and delicate light illuminated the clouds. There are holes in the forest canopy and as I wander past Shiva's grave there is a place of grief and sadness that still visits me.
It didn't rain enough to get the creek running, but it isn't too long til it returns. I picked some of the last squash tonight: Patty Pan and Delicata. The gourds are still on the ground and our melons never got beyond the softball size. One of the melons split and the ants invaded and have left a shell and fibers. Last night I pulled the broccoli and tonight some of the kale. They have become infested with aphids. I've been spraying them with soapy water, along with the Brussel Sprouts and leafy veggies. It is a conundrum between my vow of non-harming and controlling things that are attacking our food. One way is to go buy food at the market and pretend that this doesn't go on in order to feed myself. But I think that is a cop out. Bury your head in the sand while you reach out with your hand to grab a handful of cleaned flowerets. No one said life gives us clear choices.
Last night I watched a movie: Fierce Light. It is a documentary about activism and spirituality. It is of a genre that paints two dramas against each other: Oaxaca, South Central Farm in LA, the Civil Rights movement, the tree sitters and the battle between the righteous and the misguided power brokers. It isn't to say these aren't good causes or Right Action, but I don't think it is what will bring about societal and global changes that must happen. It is so easy to stir the drama pot and paint the picture that if one changes the power broker's view that the world will be a better place. People are addicted to the high drama of extremes. In truth, change will come about when the millions of people addicted to reality t.v., sit coms, and apathy decide to think for themselves and engage in change.
It reminds me of the environmental movement in the early days, something in which I found meaning 30 years ago. The environmental groups missed the boat if they were truly trying to change things. Instead of choosing to focus their efforts solely on a political agenda they should have spent a lot more money on education. Some money was spent on education, but not nearly the amount that would have had an impact on millions of young children (and in turn) adults that are in their 30's and 40's today. Education is subtle; it is about impressing and shaping minds. It isn't sexy- like large protests or confrontation or spiking trees. It is necessary to have people who are willing to push the agenda to an extreme (in a non-harming way) but it also needs to be accompanied by education of the young. I remember the days of studying environmental education and how much a fringe world it was.
It is like how people are infatuated with the big carnivores, elephants, hippos, deer and there are few people who wax eloquently about the earth worm: one of the subtle creature of the earth that makes a huge impact. Our land is filled with them and sometimes I can't see them while looking at the deer or even the songbirds. The subtle doesn't get the excitement elevated, it doesn't produce adrenalin.
At night I stand outside and look at the stars. We have no light pollution in our immediate vicinity though we can see the lights of Eugene, especially when a layer of cloud hangs around. There is sometimes a noise and I think cougar coming to attack me and then my adrenalin surges. It's incredible what our minds can create, better than any Hollywood movie sometimes.
The colors will continue to dissolve and fade away
merging with the earth;
forms saturated with water
turning from brittle to boggy
insinuating into our memory.
Subtlties
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