The Tangled Web

"And I told him that a man's life is always dealing with permanence- that the most dangerous kind of irresponsibility is to think of your doings as temporary. That, anyhow, is what I've tried to keep before myself. What you do on the earth, the earth makes permanent."
Wendell Berry, A Place on Earth. p. 180

Oreon Lyons, Chief of the Onondaga Nation, writes: "We are looking ahead, as is one of the first mandates given us as chiefs, to make sure and to make every decision that we make relate to the welfare and well-being of the seventh generation to come. . ." "What about the seventh generation? Where are you taking them? What will they have?"

Today, the soil is drinking in the rain and the earthen cracks have healed themselves over. Walking through the corn and squash patch, my boots became caked with clay. Sunflower heads hang down, reaching to the earth. A few squash blossoms valiantly hope to be productive and they are as they laden the bees with even more pollen. The honey bees and yellow jackets still fill the raspberry row and serenade me as the fruit go into the carton (and a few in my mouth).

Oh what a tangled web we weave,
When first we practice to deceive! 

Sir Walter Scott, Marmion, Canto vi. Stanza 17.

We have woven such a tangled web in our individual and collective lives. This week it was announced that the Oregon legislatures will be coming back into special session to consider taxes and cuts. One of the deals that was cut to get some to come back was that they could vote on a bill relating to GMO crops. One part of it is a contingency that wants to restrict local governments from being able to put in restrictive/ banning measures for GMO crops. It is distressing that people who rail against the abrogation of state rights are willing to override local rights. Are all GMO's bad? Are all "natural" products good? No to both. Yet, I had a discovery this weekend that demonstrated the issue of unintended consequences. I planted sweet corn and popcorn (pink)- they were planted too close together and the sweet corn was hybridized. It looks pretty but doesn't taste all that great and some of the kernels are hard. 

 

A thing to ponder.

Trade-offs

Aldo Leopold once wrote, "One of the penalties of an ecological education is that one lives alone in a world of wounds."

We live in a world that demands more and more trade-offs between socio-economic interests (I think it was Jeremy Rifkin who called our species Homo Economicus) and ecological health. Through my life it has led to a values trade-off between my compassionate concern for other people and my deep seeded resonance for the wilds. It is the compromise between leaving this property and going cross country skiing an hour and a half away. It is the trade-off between a newer camera and the environmental devastation in China. Years ago, when I was more actively engaged in the environmental movement, I wondered how long it would take to alter the environmental landscape when people's pockets and their way of life were impacted. We are now seeing the decrease in support for environmental conservation as the standard of living is being challenged.

The trade-off that hit home very recently had to do with trees. Weyerhauser clearcut the trees across the road. It wasn't a large stand nor was it a healthy ecosystem with the trees so tightly bunched (they were never thinned). They were of poor economic valley to the company, but they needed to plant a better crop. But I loved to walk through the thick canopy and feel the moss beneath my feet. I could walk in any direction- very little poison oak, no blackberry thickets, very little brush.

Up on the hillside, looking toward Green Peak, are dozens of checkerboard parcels that have been cleared. It is such a changed landscape that on a bike ride I got disoriented about which road to take- my forest landmarks were gone. (Thankfully I guessed right.) I read a hard copy newspaper, read magazines and books, and use paper in the bathroom. It is a trade-off.

The concept of NIMBY ( not in my backyard) is a part of most of us. We want what we want when we want it and don't want anyone to mess with it. However, we live in a world of divergent needs and ideas. I am not the center of the world. The children of the employees of Weyerhauser need their families to have family wage jobs (not low-paying service sector jobs). Environmental justice requires that we make compromises.

But where and when will it stop? I have immense respect for our innovation and creativity to find solutions. We need to encourage innovation to figure out how to deal with the rising population of the world. Will it mean we reassess our priorities when the system crashes? Will it crash like some of the disaster theorists proclaim? Do we need a crisis to truly change? What will happen when the Ogalla aquifer dries up? What happens when people don't have good jobs and nutritional intake for children decrease?

A few years ago I went on a tour of a Willamette Industries active harvest site. The forester explained that they go into an area and harvest the seeds of that place and grow them for replanting. What a change from the past- the recognition the power of the local ecosystem and the importance of replanting something from that area. Change helped them alter their way of working.

I do get concerned for the young today and the environment. For me it is not just climate change, but the loss of the valuing of wild areas and being in touch with nature. It saddens me that fewer children feel the grass beneath their bare feet and the scent of a forest on a Fall day. I do not think there is a final solution because that assumes there is an end state for ecosystems. However, we must find a balance between jobs and environmental health because the alternative isn't pretty

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Quietude

Silence by Hafez

A day of Silence
Can be a pilgrimage in itself.
A day of Silence
Can help you listen
To the Soul play
In marvelous lute and drum.
Is not most talking
A crazed defense of a crumbling fort?
I thought we came here
To surrender in Silence,
To yield to Light and Happiness,
To Dance within
In celebration of Love’s Victory!

Silence is what many people crave in this busy and, at times, chaotic time in which we live. Though I think it is not silence we seek (losing our capacity to hear isn't what anyone wants). Quietude is a more apt description. The inner sense of calm abiding that relaxes the mind; opens it to possibility. This land, especially at dawn, epitomizes quietude.

The morning light begins around 5 these days. A subtle hint of color on the horizon and it begins to define the jagged edges of the forest. The Great Horned Owl and Western Screech Owl are the lone voices in this interlude of light. The Killdeer have returned and add their staccato intonation.  Very quietly in the background the Swainson Thrushes add their soft and subdued single notes as they pass a tone through the forest. Suddenly an explosive percussion sound erupts as the turkeys descend from their perch in the Ash Forest and glide into the meadow. By then the light is in full spate. Dogs are barking, Mourning Doves arrive, and the Douglas Squirrel enters the bird feeder. The quietude has dissipated into a full-blown energetic dance of life.

I recently spent three weeks (minus two short drives) on the land without getting into a car. Two weeks in silent meditation. Living on the edge of the forest allows for the the subtleties to become more evident. There were three new wrens (Pacific, House, Bewick's) and the Pacific-slope Flycatcher- neighbors that are new to me. They are secretive and like to spend time hidden- though the wrens are quite vocal. 

As the day begins to wind down, the wind slows, and the heat starts to dissipate. The shadows become longer and the birds begin to be more active. Soon the turkeys will fly to their perches, the thrushes will begin their calls, and, as the colors of sunset dissipate, the owls will begin their songs.