June

There is a delight to be had on fresh June mornings, when spring has melded to summer and the earth is moist and a hardened green claims the landscape.  The memories of daffodils and lilacs are filed away for another year and suddenly there are six squirrels where there were two and the refrigerator is packed with fresh strawberries.  The business of production is solidly engaged.  

There was a bit of rain yesterday and overnight a heavy fog set in so the far side of the pond was under a veil and the distinction between sky and earth was lost.  Then, in a matter of minutes the sun burned through and the air was clear as polished glass and the earth took a massive breath.  Only in June does it happen just this way.

There was a blemish put on the morning when the old dog happened upon a mature fox snake and I heard the snap of jaws and knew it was not good.  The snake was alive but seemed incapable of moving, even when prodded.  There appeared, a few inches from its head, a protrusion under the skin such as a displaced vertebra might make. 

We appreciate snakes, especially those able to take on bigger prey such as chipmunks which favor our crawl space and house walls, or voles, which delight in chewing developing potato tubers.  A three foot fox snake would have been an exciting event had it ended differently.  Over 13 years of admonishing the dog over snake killing I have yet to completely break her.  Maybe my efforts have not been forceful enough, or maybe her genetic makeup will never allow her to be fully broken.  Regardless, the morning’s deed was done and for a couple hours I regretted the recently purchased dog food and years of veterinary bills.  The snake was no more. It would have been so much easier to dispatch a chipmunk.

While mushroom hunting this spring I came across a garter snake with the front half of a toad hanging from its mouth.   As the snake worked methodically and painstakingly slow to swallow its prey, the toad looked on, appearing composed and content as a toad does, showing no struggle or apparent alarm, no indication of discomfort.  The toad was simply living and breathing until it lived and breathed no more, and seemed accepting of this certain outcome.  The snake, likewise, showed no urgency to kill its prey but was focused on the job of swallowing.  For a reptile with no teeth this requires unhinging its jaws and stretching skin and muscle to accommodate a meal that might be several times the diameter of the snake itself.  It’s a process, slow and deliberate, and fascinating.

It’s interesting how some animals indicate discomfort while others not so much.  A fish might be in the throws of horror but we would not know looking at its eyes.  But what is its experience when removed from water and all the suffocating realities of gravity are put upon it?  Maybe if fish could convey feelings through cries of anguish we would be less likely to beam at the camera while holding a prized catch by its lip.  

There are ongoing studies indicating that alarm is spread rapidly through plant communities when any of them experience wounding or are threatened by insect or disease. Maybe we don’t fully appreciate the consequences in mowing grass or snipping a rose or pulling a carrot.

If a lichen has a solid substrate, say a rock or a tree trunk, and is provided sunlight, air, and water, it will grow, happy as a clam.  But lichens are among few things that exist without feeding on something living or having lived, and with this ability to form something from nothing, they set off a chain of events that ultimately transforms bare rock to field or forest where an endless variety of life sustains life.  The processes are intricate and include moments of discomfort but are splendidly interwoven and balanced.  There is no waste, and every component plays a role.

All systems are in hyperdrive this month and there is a great churning of nutrients and energy from life to death to life again.  Sometimes unfortunate, sometimes necessary, sometimes with a fight, sometimes with little resistance, always with renewed purpose.  On June mornings it begs noticing.