Month: September 2020

September 30, 2020

Fearing fire, I decided not to watch the “presidential” debate last night. I opted to listen to Brahms symphonies. This evening I hesitate even to look at short clips of the charred remains.

This is not the moment for me to select a few appropriate words of response. Rather it is for me an evening to be silent so that I can mourn the particulars.

September 27, 2020

That was a heavy load I tried to deliver yesterday. This evening’s rumination runs a counter attack as in “Given this moment in earth history, what might be my / our personal responses?”

I like Sam Steiner’s reply: ” I think we have to find our joy in the micro and not the macro that does seem overwhelming many days.”

And Warren Yoder’s: “Good and evil have always hung in a precarious balance. “

This from Mil Penner: (Just wanted to share this verse today —  Matt:  6:23 — and a quotation.) “If God gives such attention to the appearance of wildflowers—most of which are never even seen—don’t you think he’ll attend to you, take pride in you, do his best for you? What I’m trying to do here is to get you to relax, to not be so preoccupied with getting, so you can respond to God’s giving. People who don’t know God and the way he works fuss over these things, but you know both God and how he works. Steep your life in God-reality, God-initiative, God-provisions. Don’t worry about missing out. You’ll find all your everyday human concerns will be met.”

My own thoughts overlap with the sentiments shared above. At this moment I feel a stronger call to be rather than an anxious urge to do something of lasting significance.

— to be a loving family member
— to be a cordial neighbor
— to be a supporter of community wellbeing
— to be a thoughtful partner in earth resource management
— to be an ally with peacemakers
— to be a conscientious user of information
— to be a revealer of what is right and beautiful
— to be a conscientious critic of what is not good
— to be at home here and now while anticipating what is yonder
— to be a sound sleeper and a joyful riser

Peace to you.

September 26, 2020

Many times I have tried to write about these times. THESE TIMES. Those essays may have adequately expressed my feelings at the moment; however it is remains impossible for me, one fairly aware senior, to exposit the breadth and depth of our moment on this planet. At no time in my long life have I felt the multiplicity of big issues, many of which will bring consequences difficult to predict. Here are what I consider the top ten ogres, now raising havoc or about to.

1. Global warming, that is, temperatures significantly higher so as to change coastlines, makes residential zones uninhabitable, effects rainfall and snowfall, modifies current agricultural practices … and this is just a start.
   
2. The Covid pandemic. One year ago, late September, who seriously anticipated the power of a virus to kill millions of people in 2020. That virus remains on the loose.
   
3. Resettling of people world wide, that is, people pulling up stakes, taking down the tent, shutting the door of the house and moving because of war / famine / poverty / government actions / religious and/or social discrimination has destabilized the earth community. Of course most critically affected are those individuals and families of humble means. Many countries of the world, surely most, are not able or willing to accommodate a large number of newcomers. Consequently the number of refugees in camps now number more than a million. My own country, at least a near majority of its citizens, wants a much stricter immigrant quota.
   
4. An oligarchy of extremely wealthy people — who supposedly control more than 90 percent of earth’s financial resources — are given legal and taxation protection by states that benefit from their largesse. This situation supersedes the former schools of economic thought and wrecks havoc on socialism, communism, democracy or any of our political/economic systems.
   
5. World religions have lost what credence they once built upon. The consequences of rapid changes in mores as well as an increase in low-level, yet devastating religious discrimination and even religious wars bespeak a diminishing role of religious authorities.
   
6. The geo-political structures world wide are in flux, thus destroying trust and arousing fear among millions of people. Crucial in this world-wide political upheaval are the changing roles of the United States, China and Russia.
   
7. Calamities such as tsunamis, earthquakes, hurricanes, droughts and now huge forest fires will surely effect consequential population shifts.
   
8. The planet as a whole has not as yet come to terms with individual differences: male and female, skin coloration, economic disparity, educational levels, religious preferences and political memberships. Caste systems, formal and informal, are in place throughout the world.
   
9. My own country, USA, is in political crisis such as I have never experienced. The crisis centers on the presidency, but filters down to parties and persuasions. Chaos threatens.
   
10. Individual well-being, that is, an individual’s sense of satisfaction with country and community, sense of personal fulfillment, sense of individual and corporate wellbeing, sense of economic security has dropped dramatically in America.
    
    
    
    Should we be given another year, what might we have to say on September 26, 2021?

September 22, 2020 (autumnal equinox)

What better celebration of the autumnal equinox than to walk in the gardens at The Juniper Spoon. Of much to see, I gave first place honors to the milkweeds.

David Taylor says the common milkweed is a member of the Asclepiadaceae family. It is one of about 115 species that occur in the Americas. Most spbecies are tropical or arid land species. The genus name, Asclepias, commemorates Asklepios, the Greek god of medicine.

From American Meadow: Although potentially poisonous, the plant has been used for medicinal purposes as well. Many indigenous tribes applied milkweed sap for wart removal and chewed its roots to treat dysentery. It was also used in salves and infusions to treat swelling, rashes, coughs, fevers and asthma.

The monarch butterflies make themselves at home in the milkweed plot at The Juniper Spoon.

September 21, 2020

Don’t do it unless you know what you are doing.

If you don’t know what you are doing, call a neighbor such as Jim.

Thanks Jim.

September 18, 2020

From The Atlantic’s “Today”

Don’t pin your hopes on a vaccine. Anthony Fauci, the director of the National Institute of Allergy and Infectious Diseases, tells The Atlantic that a vaccine will not likely be in widespread distribution “until well into 2021.”

What can be done in the meantime?

Our staff writer James Hamblin spoke with dozens of experts over the past few months, distilling their recommendations into five actionable steps(excerpted below):

1. Accept reality.

Do not waste your time and emotional energy planning around an imminent game-changing injection or pill in the coming months.

2. Plan for more shutdowns.  

Everyone will be better prepared if we plan for schools to close and for cities and businesses to shut back down, even while we hope they won’t have to.

3. Live like you’re contagious. 

This primarily means paying attention to where you are and what’s coming out of your mouth. … During the holidays, don’t plan gatherings in places where you can’t be outdoors and widely spaced. This may mean postponing or canceling long-standing traditions.

4. Build for the pandemic. 

This is an overdue opportunity to create and upgrade to permanently pandemic-resistant cities, businesses, schools, and homes. … Poor indoor air quality, for example, has long been a source of disease.

5. Hunt the virus. 

Developing fast and reliable ways to detect the coronavirus will become only more crucial during the winter cold- and- flu season.

———-

We got our flu shots this morning.

September 17, 2020

Fifty two years ago our family lived in Costa Rica. In economic and development terms, this was a l – o – n – g time before President Arias won the Nobel Peace Prize and in so doing put Costa Rica on the modern map.

Christmas of 1968, a new-found friend, Jorge Valenciano, who enlarged his photos with equipment he assembled with found pieces, presented us with a selection of his work. Here is a series of unposed shots taken from across the street in downtown San Jose.

September 15, 2020

This morning’s first read — “So to sum up: The West is burning; the Arctic is melting; the National Hurricane Center is tracking eight major systems; and the WHO reports the largest single-day increase of coronavirus cases globally.” WAPO’S CHRISTIAN DAVENPORT (@wapodavenport)

Details that follow the first read —

— on top granola a banana, half a dozen red raspberries, grapes and yogurt

— an e-mail note from Colorado

— a four-miler to the post office and back

— lawn work

— a chat with a neighbor who came to borrow a saw

— old-fashioned tomato sauce on fried potatoes and easy-over eggs

— a nap

— the newly arrived Atlantic magazine

— Vivaldi, Bach, Corelli and Telemann on YouTube

— and the day’s not over.

September 14, 2020

Here’s a poem that touches my heart.

Feeding the Worms
by Danusha Laméris

Ever since I found out that earth worms have taste buds
all over the delicate pink strings of their bodies,
I pause dropping apple peels into the compost bin, imagine
the dark, writhing ecstasy, the sweetness of apples
permeating their pores. I offer beets and parsley,
avocado, and melon, the feathery tops of carrots.

I’d always thought theirs a menial life, eyeless and hidden,
almost vulgar—though now, it seems, they bear a pleasure
so sublime, so decadent, I want to contribute however I can,
forgetting, a moment, my place on the menu.


“Feeding the Worms” from Bonfire Opera by Danusha Laméris, © 2020. Aired by permission of University of Pittsburgh Press.

Unfortunately this time of year the compost pile out behind the garage is not a thing of beauty, but take a look. It’s growing.

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September 13, 2020

Two people in their 70s shared breakfast with us in our 80s behind the house on the patio. Yes, observing COVID rules. Supposedly, we four belong to that segment of society most at risk of dying from COVID. Apparently our vulnerability is our lungs.

We drank coffee, ate eggs, chatted about our neighborhood, reported on our grandchildren and talked about our plans for the next week. So very pleasant it was, a reason for deepest gratitude.

They went home to their agenda, we turned to ours — a three-mile hike, a football game, crossword puzzles, books, and The New York Times …

… and there, from a news agency that tries to show us the world beyond our neighborhood, I come face-to-print with these realities:

***** “The number of homeless students in the New York City school system has increased by 70 percent over the past decade…”

***** “I had realized that the majority of homeless New Yorkers are families with children.”

***** Educators try to reckon with the long-term implications of remote learning, vanishing resources and heightened inequality.

***** “Public schools promised to accommodate children with disabilities in classrooms. But as school moves online, those programs are beginning to crumble.”

We 70- and 80-year-olds, the most vulnerable, because our lungs??? This evening I am thinking about the seven and eight year olds who are far more vulnerable than we, particularly those children who have been at a disadvantage from the start.