"A conversation between God and St. Francis about Suburbanites"

This is brilliant... found it here.

GOD: St. Francis, you know all about gardens and nature. What in the World is going on down there in the USA? What happened to the dandelions, violets, thistle and stuff I started eons ago? I had a perfect, no-maintenance garden plan. Those plants grow in any type of soil, withstand drought and multiply with abandon. The nectar from the long lasting blossoms attracts butterflies, honeybees and flocks of songbirds. I expected to see a vast garden of colors by now. But all I see are these green rectangles.

ST. FRANCIS: It's the tribes that settled there, Lord. The Suburbanites. They started calling your flowers weeds and went to great lengths to kill them and replace them with grass.

GOD: Grass? But it's so boring. It's not colorful. It doesn't attract butterflies, birds and bees, only grubs and sod worms. It's temperamental with temperatures. Do these Suburbanites really want all that grass growing there?

ST. FRANCIS: Apparently so, Lord. They go to great pains to grow it and keep it green. They begin each spring by fertilizing grass and poisoning any other plant that crops up in the lawn.

GOD: The spring rains and warm weather probably make grass grow really fast. That must make the Suburbanites happy.

ST. FRANCIS: Apparently not, Lord. As soon as it grows a little, they cut it, sometimes twice a week.

GOD: They cut it? Do they then bale it like hay?

ST. FRANCIS: Not exactly Lord. Most of them rake it up and put it in bags.

GOD: They bag it? Why? Is it a cash crop? Do they sell it?

ST. FRANCIS: No, sir -- just the opposite. They pay to throw it away.

GOD: Now, let me get this straight. They fertilize grass so it will grow. And when it does grow, they cut it off and pay to throw it away?

ST. FRANCIS: Yes, sir.

GOD: These Suburbanites must be relieved in the summer when we cut back On the rain and turn up the heat. That surely slows the gro wth and saves Them a lot of work.

ST. FRANCIS: You aren't going to believe this, Lord. When the grass stops growing so fast, they drag out hoses and pay more money to water it so they can continue to mow it and pay to get rid of it.

GOD: What nonsense. At least they kept some of the trees. That was a Sheer stoke of genius, if I do say so myself. The trees grow leaves in the spring to provide beauty and shade in the summer. In the autumn they fall to the ground and form a natural blanket to keep moisture in the soil and protect the trees and bushes. Plus, as they rot, the leaves form compost to enhance the soil. It's a natural circle of life.

ST. FRANCIS: You'd better sit down, Lord. The Suburbanites have drawn a new circle. As soon as the leaves fall, they rake them into great piles and pay to have them hauled away

GOD: No. What do they do to protect the shrub and tree roots in the Winter and to keep the soil moist and loose?

ST. FRANCIS: After throwing away the leaves, they go out and buy Something which they call mulch. They haul it home and spread it around in place of the leaves.

GOD: And where do they get this mulch?

ST. FRANCIS: They cut down trees and grind them up to make the mulch.

GOD: Enough! I don't want to think about this anymore. St. Catherine, you're in charge of the arts. What movie have you scheduled for us tonight?

ST. CATHERINE: Dumb and Dumber, Lord. It's a real stupid movie about.............

GOD: Never mind, I think I just heard the whole story from St. Francis.

The "Star Wars Prayer"

Since Advent is nearly upon us, we prayed Eucharistic Prayer C this Sunday (instead of the normal "B") leading up to the Eucharist. I've copied most of it below, as I think it is especially beautiful. Science, art, and faith collide here with a certain brilliance. Father Jim calls this the "Star Wars Prayer." (italics are where the congregation responds to the reader):


God of all power, Ruler of the Universe, you are worthy of
glory and praise.
Glory to you for ever and ever.

At your command all things came to be: the vast expanse of
interstellar space, galaxies, suns, the planets in their courses,
and this fragile earth, our island home.
By your will they were created and have their being.

From the primal elements you brought forth the human race,
and blessed us with memory, reason, and skill. You made us
the rulers of creation. But we turned against you, and betrayed
your trust; and we turned against one another.
Have mercy, Lord, for we are sinners in your sight.
 
Again and again, you called us to return. Through prophets
and sages you revealed your righteous Law. And in the
fullness of time you sent your only Son, born of a woman, to
fulfill your Law, to open for us the way of freedom and peace.
By his blood, he reconciled us.
By his wounds, we are healed.

(the rest of the liturgy...) 

Salamonie Reservoir

Looking at the events pile up on the fall calendar, we made a set-in-stone, weather-forecast-be-damned camping date. Which was why we were one of only 2-3 tent campers as the rain fell and the mercury dropped to just above freezing. We retreated home for the night, then returned in the sun for hiking, foil dinners, and a trip to the interpretive center. Well, if everything had gone perfectly, it wouldn't have been a camping trip. My youth experiences included butterfly bandages, swarms of yellow jackets, and falling out of a pop-up camper. I was reminded of how utterly toast we would be if we ever needed to live off the land again (post-apocalyptic style). I think I'll make a good environmental scientist, but I'd be a pretty poor survivalist WTSHTF.

We did manage to track down a very important family site. On a drizzly rainy Tuesday afternoon in October of '05 I asked Miss Crump to start a journey with me. Seven years in, and somehow it keeps getting better.







As I learn more about geomorphology (watersheds in particular), I thought the history behind the creation of this reservoir somewhat ironic, or comitragic, taking the long-view of natural history. Europeans came and, in one matter or another, stole the land from the Miami Indians. They drained the wetlands and chopped down the forests, both of which were crucial to natural flood control of the river. The subsequent floods (of increasing magnitude and frequency because of anthropogenic changes) posed a threat to the downstream communities of Wabash, Logansport, and Peru (in Peru, 78% of homes were built in the floodplain... I remember going there in college and seeing recent flood damage). So in order to save these towns, three towns in the path of the reservoir where bought out and moved (what wasn't moved was flooded). Three dams in the area were completed by the late '60's. Saving three towns by flooding three others. "Controlling nature" because we had made nature more uncontrollable. Creating recreation opportunities (lake-boating, lake beaches) and creating habitat by destroying recreation opportunities (river fishing, river canoeing, river sandbanks) and destroying natural habitat (the river ecosystem). Anthropocene indeed. But it remains somewhat natural nonetheless, even if heavily altered and constructed.

Due to the drought this year, several roads and building foundations of these drowned communities became visible:

Mars Rover landing late Sunday night

I wasn't really interested in the thing until I watched this 5 min video, "7 minutes of terror". I'll also have to get caught up with Stephen Colbert, who is promoting the rover landing on his show.

The amazing thing is that by the time NASA receives a signal from the craft that it has entered the atmosphere, it will already have been on the surface of Mars for 7 minutes, alive and ready or in pieces.

Tour de Cute

all 786 known planets

Credit: XKCD. Blow this image up and read the middle. Exciting times indeed. It strikes me that this is a very simple, elegant example of why science education is important, and why we must maintain a public commitment  to scientific exploration (read: taxpayer-funded).

 

Holland State Park

hottie with a body, cutie with a booty

First time at Lake Michigan.

para que siga gringuita

 

before you or me, this was

YTD on the NCT

170 flesh-powered miles in the last 4 months; 90 on foot and 80 on a bike

 

Route shown is an approximation, if you found the shortest point-to-point route on foot, which Google says is 110 miles.


Perspective is everything. Here's the same route:

This fictional route below is around 2,500 miles. If you walked 3 mph without ever stopping, you'd finish in a little over a month. Or, you could cover 75 miles / day on a bike and you'd finish in about the same time.

Motivation for early retirement I suppose...

Again, a God-eyed-view:

finally

I hadn't planted and harvested a garden, throughout the entire season, since 2008. Sadly, I won't be around to harvest much of this one either. Although, we did plant in the same garden in Marion for four straight years.

Digging in yesterday felt like... coming back to one's religion after a time of spiritual wandering.

In my adult life, I have dug asparagus beds into the property of every house I've owned - and some I rented - even tiny urban lots and student ghettos... I suppose in those unsettled years, I was aspiring for a stability I couldn't yet purchase.

-Barbara Kingsolver, Animal, Vegetable, Miracle

North Country Trail - Rogue River Game Area

Forgot my camera, so no pictures. This was an early May hike/bike.

Hiking consistently about every other weekend for four months has really helped me appreciate the change in seasons. The beauty, subtlety, and quiet, timeless power of the forest is unchanging. This was the first time that mosquitoes became something of a nuisance, that I start worrying about poison ivy and ticks.

I slept in the woods a couple nights by myself. A little spooky looking at a trio of glowing eyes staring at me. Barred owls calling. Spotted what I think was a ruffed grouse, which was  a first for me. Coincidentally, it was the day after I watched The Big Year. Yes, Hollywood actually made a movie (mostly) about birding. Don't expect that again. I liked it.

Scarier still was the old arrow I found propped against my car tire when I hike the 50 yards out from my campsite in the morning. What. The. Hail. I got out of there quick, not knowing what it signified. The land is a state game area. Though it's multiple-use, it's funded by and specifically designed for hunters. Any idea what that arrow meant?

Snakes! I saw another blue racer. He was a little guy, apparently battle-worn as he had a blunted, scarred tail. As such, he could not try to scare me with a fake rattle (as the first one I saw did). He coiled right up and stared me down as I approached. Kids, don't try this at home, but I try to grab him. He bit me - lightning fast - then scrambled off. Only one little drop of blood to show, and hardly as painful as a thorn-prick. Note to self: wild animals are always faster than you. Always.

Five seconds down the trail, I saw his much bigger (and intact) cousin. Not learning my lesson, I slowly approached. He gave me the leaf-rattle warning, elongated and looking over his snake shoulder at me. I took one step closer and he sped off like his name suggests.

I'm now up to about 90 miles hiked and 50 miles biked on the North Country Trail.