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Joy

I am one of these people who cry at airports. Not when someone is departing, mind you, but when they are arriving. Tears start to trickle before the plane even touches down.  I don’t exactly know why that is, and can only assume it has to do with having missed someone horribly and now, finally, being able to embrace them again. That was certainly true when one of my parents came in their rare visits to the US, or when my kids came home from college.

I hate to admit it, but I also had tears in my eyes when I reunited with our puppy after my recent trip. Really, I’m getting ditzy in my dotage. I’ve never quite connected (hah, I knew I could make the link to the theme)  to our various animals, regardless of my joy in photographing some of them out in nature, but this young fellow has won my heart.

“He is just happy all the time,” I hear someone muttering faintly from the study, and since we could all use some happiness here are pictures I took the day before yesterday while walking on Sauvie with floppy ears.

Pure J o y.

Can we take this stick home? 

Or this?

Or This? 

One last swim?

 

 

I caught a sponge!

Not depicted is my panic when he took off from the beach to the woods and startled a massive coyote. Luckily their speeds weren’t matched.  Geese were unperturbed.

We stayed until the light went low and our shared bag of Fritos was empty.  Days can still be good, if you manage to get away from the news…..

Change and Continuity

I woke up around 3 am – (jet lag, I despise you) – having this urge to get out the power washer in the morning morning. It would feel good to attack the cement decks with that rumbling, sharp, energetic stream to clean away the grime and phantasize about it not being a cement deck but you know who. Realized later that all the garden hoses are stored, the water pipes wrapped, so it might have to wait until the next frost is gone. Nonetheless, it was nice to think that there is the adult equivalent of hitting a pillow….

I was a bit demoralized after yesterday’s walk; it is not just our political universe that is going to pieces; the weather has reeked havoc with nature as well. Two of my favorite walks have been impacted: Tryon Creek looks like several bombs went off, and many of the paths and one of the bridges are un-passable because there is not enough man power to remove the fallen trees, giants all. Oaks bottom has free paths, but the old growth trees tumbled left and right, making the familiar scene unfamiliar and telling tales of destruction. Of course the one tree that was not affected is the one at the outlook over the lake, which is growing fast and will be obstructing the view in no time. (All the photographs are taken with I Phone at different times of the yer at that outlook – I walk there once a week with my dog who makes it hard to keep my hand steady since he’s eager to pursue the water fowl, squirrels and other delectable creatures.)

This afternoon I am thinking how earth has weathered so much upheaval through the millennia, how change is actually healthy for forests, through flooding or fire, how extreme situations help us focus on what really matters. If I had to pick the one area that requires relentless, coordinated resistance it is the preservation of our planet for future generations. Unbridled capitalism, with its willing defiance of ways to halt or delay climate change, hurts the entire world, not just a nation that caved in to populist snake oil sales men. Change on a small geographic scale might be natural; change that comes with a destruction of the atmosphere will be catastrophic. (Can’t bring myself to use the word carnage since it’s been in the orange cheat’s mouth too often….)

 

 

 

The REINS Act

Hm, for some reason this post disappeared. Even thought it went out on the automatic email and presumably into your inboxes.  Sorry if publishing it again doubles your daily load.

There is so much going on, obfuscated by the twitter dramas and the sham claqueurs.

One of the things is the passage REINS Act, pushed by the Koch Brothers and many other partisans of the billionaire classes. I thought it would be interesting to read what the National Resource Defense Council has to say about it. Written by a Republican, no less, who as a former congressional staffer knows the powers and limitations of Congress. It explains what the act is all about and what the possible implications will be, in clear language, easily understood.

https://www.nrdc.org/experts/david-goldston/reins-act-why-congress-should-hold-its-horses

It is hair raising, actually frightening what that act can and perhaps will do. It’s all about getting rid of regulatory protection, in all areas of life. It’ll potentially push us back into the ice ages…. so I thought some wintry landscapes are the appropriate accompaniment.

 

Travel Report # 1

I first came to New York in 1978. A time were I was still able (and willing) to jump turnstiles in moments of utter need having forgotten my tokens (remember those?)

Yesterday I arrived at Newark and a friendly agent saw me at the ticket vending machine. “hey Lady, you over 62! Get the senior discount!”  Next I stand in line at the gate to the air train. Another friendly agent waves to me and opens the wheelchair  door. I think I need to change my hair color.

It took 4.5 hours to fly from PDX to Newark. It took 2.5. hours to get to Brooklyn, on the subway.

But I was greeted by Biggi small,

curly fries

 

and LOVE. 

 

Off to a cold morning…..

Too little, too late?

Here is the White House press release from 2 days ago about attempts to prevent arctic drilling.

I am gladly accepting bets how long it will take (starting at inauguration) to circumvent the supposedly irreversible decision to protect parts of the arctic. Or I could just be optimistic and declare that 2016 was not a complete write-off…

https://www.whitehouse.gov/the-press-office/2016/12/20/united-states-canada-joint-arctic-leaders-statement

Here are some gorgeous creatures that love the cold and depend on healthy oceans for their food supply.

Or a sufficient snowpack….

Standing up

It sort of feels inappropriate to write about zoo animals at a time when this election concluded the way it did and the rest of world is a place of violence and heartbreak as well. Nontheless, I am in agreement with Grace Paley: Let us go forth with fear and courage and rage to save the world. And if that includes having a few moments of pleasure looking at extraordinary beings, so be it.

 

 

Here are facts you always wanted to know about giraffes  😉

 

 

Baby Giraffes can stand within half an hour and after only 10 hours can actually run alongside their family. (Just think of how much that saves your back when not carrying offspring around for 3 years….)

Giraffes spend most of their lives standing up; they even sleep and give birth standing up. I guess folding those legs requires too much effort….)

Giraffes only spend between 10 minutes and two hours asleep per day. They have one of the shortest sleep requirements of any mammal. (That is something I envy, needing between 9-10 hours to be an approximately tolerable human being in the morning…)

I think mascara ads should use giraffes, personally.

And none of their spots are ever alike:

Into Africa

The late 1800s and early 1900s saw an emerging literary category specifically for adolescent girls in Germany. The particular schema – and I know because I was raised on these books, some 70 years later, – dealt with an adventurous, contrarian girl who would be sent off to aunts or boarding school where she was “domesticated,” leaving occasional outbursts of natural temperament to be enjoyed by her future husband smiling benevolently on his darling wife, marriage being the end-game. Marriage, after learning to be obedient and quiet. Hm.

They all had titles of pet names  with the diminutive “chen” (little one) attached – Backfischchens Leiden und Freuden, Trotzköpfchen, Nesthäkchen. (The first from 1860 refers to the name given to tweens, literally baked fish, not yet out of the oven; the second one from the 1900s means defiant head and the third refers to the last born in a family, the little addendum to the nest. )

The only way these young girls could experience adventure was to marry a colonialist, travel to East Africa, domesticate the natives in turn and report about the hardship with the climate, the tribes, the husbands at war.  (There was also a whole adult literature of young women publishing their diaries encouraging others to come to Africa and help make the colonies strong….) The racist crap that was inherent in these young adult novels slipped by unnoticed and buried deep. The very fact that this was the only approved way to get out of the stifling republic as a girl was echoed by the fact that these books found millions of readers and were published in 48 editions or more. The equivalent for boys were adventure stories like “From Kairo To Kapstadt” or some such, where the boys were encouraged to seek service in the colonies as the ticket to large animal hunting (and promoting the glory of the Reich). Which brings me to Rhinos – hunting a crash of rhinos was the highlight of these adventure stories for this 9 year old…. never mind I had never seen one.

They can weigh up to six tons and run between 30 and 40 miles per hour – inconceivably fast. The white and the black rhino are threatened with extinction due to poaching for their desired horns. Both, by the way, are grey and differentiated really by their lip shape. The wide mouth of one, weit in Africaans, was mistranslated as white, thus the name.

Save the rhino.org says:

“Relative to their large body size, rhinoceros have small brains. But this doesn’t mean they are stupid.”

They also say:

“Black rhinos fight each other and have the highest rate of death among mammals in fights among the same species. Fifty percent of males and 30% of females die from these intra-species fights.

I’d call that pretty stupid……

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I did eventually make it to Africa, unmarried no less, but only the North – never saw a rhino outside a zoo.

Tail Tales

· And other interesting tidbits about elephants ·

Last week I treated myself to a glorious afternoon at the zoo, sans dogs, or any other obligations, just my camera and I.  It was cold, but hadn’t snowed yet, and the animals were lively.  Some learned person and I shared the same pace and frequently ended up standing in front of the same enclosure. He told me some astonishing facts about the animals, which in turn led to my decision to devote this week to tidbits of zoology.

The photos are from last Tuesday as well as several other previous visits. One reason I like to go to the zoo so often has to do with the fact that it is a place that provides an escape from lily-white Portland. You get to mingle and talk to people you would otherwise have little occasion to meet, and everyone is in a good mood because of the beauty of the surround. I always learn something, or feel more connected.

And here are some elephant facts that I, in my ignorance, found surprising. Mostly gleaned from here:

http://www.smithsonianmag.com/science-nature/14-fun-facts-about-elephants-14572816/

Females can get pregnant up to the age of 5o and a pregnancy lasts 22 months. Oy.

They live in matriarchic  groups of 15 or so, young males leave at age 12 or so.

They can get sunburn, which is why they always spray dust or chips on their back.

They hate ants. No wonder, if I imagine fire ants crawling up my trunk. This, of course, is clever evolution; acacia trees that are hosts to ants will thus provide leaves for other species to eat….

And here is the winner: the closest relative to elephants on earth is this: the rock hyrax.

Field day for a palm reader – the underside of the foot: 

Collecting Drops

dsc_0031-copyThe link below brings you to Ursula LeGuin’s latest blog, a long, thought-provoking  reflection on the election.

http://www.ursulakleguin.com/Blog2016.html#119Election

For today’s quote, here is an excerpt that points to the power of water.dsc_0032-copy

“I know what I want. I want to live with courage, with compassion, in patience, in peace.

The way of the warrior fully admits only the first of these, and wholly denies the last.

The way of the water admits them all.

The flow of a river is a model for me of courage that can keep me going — carry me through the bad places, the bad times. A courage that is compliant by choice and uses force only when compelled, always seeking the best way, the easiest way, but if not finding any easy way still, always, going on.

The cup of water that gives itself to thirst is a model for me of the compassion that gives itself freely. Water is generous, tolerant, does not hold itself apart, lets itself be used by any need. Water goes, as Lao Tzu says, to the lowest places, vile places, accepts contamination, accepts foulness, and yet comes through again always as itself, pure, cleansed, and cleansing.

Running water and the sea are models for me of patience: their easy, steady obedience to necessity, to the pull of the moon in the sea-tides and the pull of the earth always downward; the immense power of that obedience.”

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Of course, I cannot agree with the sentiment that water will always come out pure and cleansed again – that is what the protest at Standing Rock is all about. But the other reflections speak to me.

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