Centuries-old beech finally felled by
disease, another part of our historic community vanished into memory.
- I accuse myself of increasingly ignoring the wider world. Digging into my own patch of paradise to appreciate it more, I screen out tragedy and portent and disengage from guilt. This is, perhaps, wrong. There are small chores to be done, family matters to handle, our own daily routines.
- But what our civilization increasingly seems to lack is a well-developed personal center. All the running and shopping and eating and entertaining and confusion appears not only shallow, but unsatisfying to deeper instinct. Like most, I have been too busy in life to deeply contemplate. Now, if ever, is the time I can do do.
Joan and the neighbors decorate yards and
porches with reminders of the season.
- Happily, some bats are back, darting about overhead in twilight. They had almost disappeared for a few years, victims of white-nose disease. There was apparently nothing anyone could do to save them, and if indeed they are recovering it will be from their own biological processes.
- This is how it is with many things. Can any one of us save local bats? A friend who has bat-houses on his home also noticed the severe decline, but remained helpless. Like so many things, we seem to have power to spare and knowledge to fix, but we have both less power and less knowing than our hubris would have us believe. Not much more to be done than to take notice and hope.
Like turning leaves, boats will soon mostly
vanish from scenery as winter preparations continue.
- The farther you go …
- It is possible to learn more, but also possible to be blind to what you see.
Unexpected morning glories glow in late
morning deep into the season.
- There are current fads to apply scientific methodology to our interior ecologies. I am always amused at this or that latest finding in such things as selfishness or happiness. None of those experiments can be easily replicated, and even the conclusions are debatable depending on how one interprets the results. Humans are much too complex for such things to work.
- I wish our electronic age would start to put some real effort into a modern philosophy. The moldy scraps we still use _ ancient Greeks and more ancient prophets, discredited economists, the confused babblings of the enlightenment writers _ do not provide much comfort in these unsettled times.
Flashes of color here and there can be
stunning, but usually we are in too much of a hurry to notice.
- In this later than usual season, I have been pleasantly surprised to finally notice a few monarch butterflies. I was even more astonished at a hovering hummingbird seeking nectar from a purple phlox right outside the window. Here, then suddenly gone, as if hallucinated.
- I wish to believe that even now there remain wild spaces beyond this narrow heavily populated zone. Somewhere butterflies romp freely, hummingbirds congregate, and fish thrive. But I know all too well that is more an illusion than reality. I fear some of these visitors who bring me such joy are the last of a declining multitude, and that each must be cherished as possibly the last one.
Autumn becoming more obvious with each
passing day.
Out in late
twilight putting garbage at the end of the driveway. The sound of insects and tree frogs is
overwhelming, so different than the birdsong of early morning. Nobody else around, but glows emanate from
windows everywhere. It is easy to
imagine what sounds would be coming out, if anyone had windows open.
“Three dead
in latest shooting incident …”
“Korea
threatens and the president responds angrily in spite of …”
“More bad
news from school scores …”
“Police
reports claim that …”
“The latest
massive study of the effects of red meat and avocados reports that …”
“Hurricane
gathers strength, latest in series of natural disasters to strike Florida
tomorrow.”
A faint
siren wails from town.
Troubles all
around, apparently troubles everywhere but here. I gaze at final glimmers of deep red in the
western sky, take a deep breath, and try to restrict my perceptions to my own
personal space. The rest will intrude
soon enough.
Low warm morning mist softens the sky behind
glowing aged foliage.
Ancient
wizened sage
Ignorant on
mountain
Claims
Insight and
wisdom
Love the vivid color of this week's photo collection. I share your feeling that each monarch may be the last...or a red fox. I rejoiced at seeing schools of fish (snappers?) along the shoreline of late, leaping into the water and making amazing zigzag patterns as they sweep across the harbor. A sign that all is not over...yet.
ReplyDelete