The Geysers' draft of a charter, wherever it may currently be, ends with a list of bons mots that one might embrace or not, but may be worthy of thought. 'Muddle through', 'Don't forget to pass the relay stick', 'No martyrs', etc., etc.. An online member suggested an addition to the list that I hereby offer to those of you who are interested:

Don't seek what you already have.

peach ice cream

I think peach ice cream could cure just about anything. The peaches most of all have such a pleasurable fragrance and taste, that sun-ripened summer fruit. But they also have lots of vitamins, minerals and fiber. The milk and cream – they are both whole foods, containing complete nutrition. We use cows’ milk (that of mammals like us humans), the only thing calves consume their first month of life. Then there is sugar, from cane or sugar beets, plants that offer energy and great pleasure. Cheers up the gloominess in us. But I don’t have to analyze all that – just trust the yes my body feels with that first bite. Yes – this is good.

Mussels, scorpion, armadillo, deer, cedar, humans, house plants, twigs, magnolia, fruit fly, house fly, snake, starling, mourning dove, grackles, pigeons, lichens, okra, tomatoes, potatoes, onions, cows, peaches, cranberries, wheat, walnuts, almonds, sugar cane and beets, vanilla beans, oak, ball moss on a twig, dandelion, clover, sunflower, king bird, egret, dog, various grasses, tobacco, chickens, slugs, snails, lions, wolves, woodrat … and of course the whale for which this blog is named.

I thought this was going to be a shorter list – all or most of the species that have come my way somehow in this one day.

Last week, I read a newspaper article that mentioned a new field of study – the interactions between and among species on earth. It has a fancier official name that I can’t pull up from my memory bank, but the idea is still on my mind. Such a timely and helpful direction to explore! We humans are rather uppity regarding our companions on the planet – enhancing sensitivity to the needs and the gifts of those among us would be an enlightening experience.  Greater serenity and happiness might come our way.

 
The twig with the ball moss is in a vase of water on the bureau in my room. Gazing toward its lively visage a bit ago, I came up with the idea of what to write about this evening.

another summer poem -

like dandelions

seeding the summer cosmos

stardust falls

and prospers

 

****

 

Regarding the poem I wrote and posted yesterday: not having made a copy for myself, I left out a word or two. I’m posting a revised version below that is possibly closer to the original:

 

Summer moon dangles

among the fireflies –

Fishes reflecting light

leap and dart across the pond

toward darkness

 

 ****

summer poems

Someone left summer poems outside their front yard - take one! - and invited others to leave a summer poem behind.

Here's the poem that went home with me - it's by Mark Twain:

Warm summer sun,
Shine kindly here.
Warm southern wind,
Blow softly here.
Green sod above,
Lie light, lie light.
Good night, dear heart,
Good night, good night.

Here's the one I left behind:

Summer moon dangles
among the fireflies -
fishes reflecting light
dart across the pond
into darkness.

Goodwill

A healthy rainstorm took me by surprise during a morning walk. The blue-black clouds shed a generous quantity of much welcomed water, and my hair, dress and shoes were soaked to the skin. I stood under a public library overhang for the last forty minutes or so of heavy downpour, then made it to my car in the fading drizzle.

 

I keep a small towel in the trunk – in part anticipating events such as this (and in part saluting Douglas Adams’ advice for galactic hitchhikers). And it was my unusual good fortune to find I had a spare pair of shoes. No spare clothes, though, and an appointment of some importance to make later in the morning. I was really wet! Too far from the house to get fresh clothes and be back in time, and too early for clothing stores to be open, I lucked upon a charitable Goodwill used clothing (and household items) outlet. They were open at 8 AM. After an hour of combing through the rows of racks, and trying on this and that – I exited in capris and a blue blouse suitable for office wear (and a pair of new undies).

 

For many years my family contributed to Goodwill, and in the past few, I’ve made some good purchases there – glassware and coffee cups, a purse and a favorite blouse. I feel happy to visit Goodwills (and similar other places such as Savers) because not only am I supporting a charitable cause, I’m buying recycled items in good condition. The capris of sturdy cloth are soft and broken in. I like looking at the colorful mix of stuff!

 

Today, though, I’m just grateful. I made that appointment in a dry and reasonably attired state.

texas summer morning

driving slow and easy

along the quieter streets,

shadow and sunlight quiver

in the mild summer breeze,

an open-car-windows

kind of tuesday morning.

the not-so-long-ago voices

of texas singers,

with the magic of CDs and speakers,

sound familiar as laid-back neighbors.

Climbing guitar riffs

tumble down like winding waters,

and this feels so good.

this feels like home.

guitar

with strings rusty and dry

a fretboard chewed and narrowed

the wood is fragrant

the tinny notes sing out bravely -

even the tiredest, most scarred guitar

responds to touch

Carburetor

Pistons

Shock absorbers

Gas tank

Fuel pump

Ignition

Accelerator

go

In Anne Tyler’s book Accidental Tourist, there’s a scene where three people live in the same house, one sister and two brothers. They’re at the table eating baked potatoes for supper, prepared to precise perfection, the way they enjoyed them during their shared childhood. (I think it was with salt, and a pat of butter, if I remember correctly.) Though a little ornery, they are healthy, fairly functional people. They survive just fine eating baked potatoes for supper.

Sometimes I eat mashed potatoes for supper, with salt and margarine. If I’m feeling energetic, maybe hash browns with onion and ketchup.

You point out a critter in the yard and call it a woodrat, we humans are likely to yell, ‘Eeek!’ and contact the exterminator. If you call the same animal a short-eared rabbit, we go, ‘Oh, how cute! How precious!’  Refer to the field plants as prairie grass or wildflowers, they’re likely to endure longer than weeds. The label medicinal herbs might garner more respect as well. Hackberry trees, sometimes called trash trees, get an undeserved axe. The fruit is plentiful, and feeds the mockingbirds and woodpeckers. They deserve a name like Gem Trees or Sweetberry.

how we get from here to there -

When we humans swim, most of us cover distance by using our feet, legs, hands, and arms as paddles. We push the water back, and move our bodies forward. It is awkward work for many of us who live predominately in the air and not in the sea.

 

Sometimes, I like to think about how dolphins and fish swim. Especially, I’m curious about how whales cover a thousand miles or more in migrations. The fluke, a whale’s tail, is a paddle but there is more than the rhythmic motion of the tail and spine that propels the gigantic mammals forward. I don’t have the opportunity to watch in person, but I wonder if like the sparrows who seem to shoot up into the air with little wing activity, the whales don’t have some ability to thrust forward without paddling. Fish in aquariums move with their tails and flexing their spines when traveling slowly. But when startled, they dart for cover in a burst of energy that seems less reliant on the limbs. It’s like a switch from a propeller plane to a jet plane, or chuting within a fast current. It could just be one hard thrust of the tail provides the momentum. There could be some other process for which I don’t have a label, but experts who study life in the oceans do.

birds perch on power lines

like notes in a hymn,

their nests cupped in grasses

down below

The alien on 'E.T.' tells the little girl, 'Be good.'

The Pope says, 'Do good.'

The cat on 'Mutts' says, 'Do. Be. Do. Be. Do.'

Observation

The Scientific Method has several parts to it, but as I’ve mentioned before, my favorite is the first step: Observation. Observation has a wholeness unto itself and is least likely to cause any harm, such as that to rodents, cats, primates, and rabbits in the lab. Observation encourages us not to take actions without drawing conclusions from direct intake of data through our own senses. Traditionally we associate observation with the eyes, with the visual sense. But an expanded definition would be experiencing phenomena via any of the senses – hearing or taste, touch or smell. Many of our early great scientists were primarily observers: observers of the sky, observers of animal behavior in the wild, observers of the weather.

 

(One consideration about observation is that it is usually an interaction. The data is not just from the subject being observed. The presence and interest and equipment of the observer(s) coexist with and affect what is happening.)

 

For about a decade, approximately the 1990s, I recorded data about my own backyard. What insects, birds, mammals caught my attention, weather changes, temperature highs and lows from the outdoor thermometer, how much rain was in the gauge we kept out front. Using field guides, I learned the names of dozens of plants and birds native to our rural 1.6 acres. We were fortunate to have a good view of an expanse of sky, and could follow the yearly wheeling of the constellations through the night sky, which planets were out, which stars remained relatively stationary (ie, the North Star).

 

Many changes have occurred in the past decade, and I’m grateful to have had the opportunity to observe the graceful networking of nature in the past, and to observe now, to have some understanding of those changes.

Mint

Two of the homes i've occupied in my lifetime have had drippy outdoor faucets that resisted repair.The upside was that mint plants thrived below the spigots. They grow so effortlessly!

When I was a kid in Louisiana in the 1960's, iced tea was usually served in a tall, slender glass with a very thin slice of lemon and a sprig of mint.

My favorite household cleaning product is mint oil. The contents are relatively safe. The natural fragrance is bright and sweet.

Daydreaming about camping along the banks of the Snake River. It's been a week and it's time to wash clothes. There's a large smooth boulder at the water's edge. I soak the clothes, and rub them lightly against the stone, using a little friction, and no detergent or soap, to loosen any caked mud or what not. I rinse each item in the river, with the knowledge only dried sweat and local dust will disperse into the water, bringing no harm to fish or other life. Then, I rinse once more using a cup of 'tea' concocted from heating leaves of mint, lavender, or rosemary in water, and adding it to a bucket of clean water. I rinse the clothes again in the fragrant water before wringing them out, and hanging them on the lower branches of the trees, or on a clothesline, to dry.

The customers as they leave the coffee shop each toss something in the trash. A paper napkin, a throw away cup. The paper liner of the cranberry muffin I'm eating will end up in the trash. Somehow in my mind, though, nothing is trash.

If our dear earth were jarred by the impact of a large meteor, or by some other dramatic event, the tilt of the earth might change so that the north and south poles would be in new locations. The timing of the rotation of the earth on its spindle might be affected. Thus the length of each day might no longer be 24 hours as previously measured. Each calendar day might be longer, or shorter. The body rhythms, sleep patterns, migration timings and directions of us animals might be considerably affected. The number of days in a year might change, affected by the new length of day, and possibly a change in the amount of time it takes the earth to complete a circle, or orbit, around the sun. And if the earth continued to wobble for a while from the impact, it might be many years before the length of days, months, and years stabilized again. Calendar and clock makers might have a big headache, the seasons and weather might be more erratic than ever, and we might be snoozing at odd hours and walking around the block at 2 am, unable to sleep.

A sci-fi writer could have fun with such a premise.

Three Doors

Three meeting rooms appeared in my daydream. The sign on the door for the first room read 'birds of a feather'. The second room was labeled 'opposites attract'. The third door read 'hodge-podge'. I knew which meeting room would suit me best.