The Good Shines Through

Today we had our first 70 degree day of the year. It came on a southern breeze under a blue sky flecked with cottony clouds. The soil was cold but the breeze ignored it and brushed everything in its path with a tropical balm. Two days ago the pond was covered with skim ice but there was no evidence of such nonsense today. 

For months the turtles were asleep in the cold, dark mud, but some ancient cue stirred them and they awoke and lined up on the cottonwood log at the pond edge, necks outstretched, basking in radiant heat. Just as suddenly, the spring peepers were among the cattails near shore, peeping as they do when in search of mates. They have no time to waste. The season of renewal has begun!

The pond has a single small island, highly favored by nesting Canada geese. Competition for it commences even while the pond is locked in ice. The victors have long been declared, and today they loiter about the island looking victorious and confident while remaining geese squabble over less preferred sites, those more susceptible to flooding and predation.  

On the deck at the edge of the pond there are two flower boxes, each about two foot square and tall. One has been claimed by a desperate goose. She has lined it with the prickly stems from a nearby juniper and deposited a single egg. She will continue this routine, laying an egg a day, until she has a suitable clutch, then will begin her 28 day incubation.  It is likely the deck and surrounding area will be staunchly defended by the gander and we will be forced elsewhere for afternoon drinks. 

The first 70 degree day spreads magic over the landscape. Turfgrass greens before our eyes. Silver maple buds burst into delicate flower. Skunk cabbage appears in the marshes. Daffodils leap from dormancy.  It’s a day to refresh and regroup as we take in some of the harsh realities in the news. 

Antarctica should be undergoing rapid cooling as the continent moves into winter, but this week temperatures there were 70 degrees above normal. At the opposite pole, where summer is just getting underway, it was 50 degrees above average. This is news that has climate scientists scrambling. They’re using words like “historic”, “unprecedented”, “dramatic”, and “remarkably bad.”

A couple new reports published in indystar.com say Indiana is one of the most polluted of states and its waterways are the dirtiest in the nation. A study done by the Environmental Integrity Project, a nonprofit focused on enforcement of environmental laws, uses the word “impaired,” to describe 25,000 miles of rivers and streams that fail to meet standards for recreation, fish consumption, aquatic life and drinking water.  According to the report, 99 percent of Indiana’s reservoirs and lakes used for drinking water are likewise impaired.  The primary source of contaminants is agricultural runoff. 

The war in Ukraine promises major disruptions in food supply and acute food insecurity for many around the globe. One agency predicts that food will be taken from the hungry to feed the starving.  Around here our grocery shelves are still amply stocked, but that is not guaranteed. I buy organic flour by special order in 50 pound bags. My supplier tells me it may not be available, and to expect a price increase of up to 30 percent if it is. 

Then there is inflation and economic inequality and an assault on voting rights and a lot of people wanting their old lives back while even more are desperate to start new ones. And watching it all are too many elected officials who represent their donors but not their districts and are less effective at compromise than a family of monkeys. 

Earlier today I watched a proud young man with his two talented daughters perform with violins before a small group in Maine, and it was incredibly good and inspiring and sad all at once.  And Amelia is back in the news. The seven year old Ukrainian recently broke the world’s collective heart when she sang “Let It Go” in a bunker while awaiting escape from her war torn city. Now she’s safe in Poland, singing the Ukraine national anthem to a crowd of thousands, and breaking hearts again. 

It’s 70 degrees and we’re planting onions and peas and spring greens and in the time it took to write this the crocus and Scilla popped from the ground and are in full bloom. Just now a bluebird sang.  In spite of all that’s wrong, the good shines through. It always does. 

 

Amelia

This morning the March sky is particularly blue, washed clean and polished, looking like it does high in the Sierras. The mercury hovers around freezing but the sun carries a notable warmth and a certainty of spring.  The wood ducks and hooded mergansers are on the pond, the drakes dressed to the nines, waiting patiently on their mates who are preoccupied, inspecting nest boxes.  The mourning doves and cardinals and redwings are singing, the fall planted garlic pushes green spears through winter mulch, and everywhere are indicators that winter is losing its grip and a season of renewal is at hand.

Oil prices are up, pretty significantly, and might go higher. The people complaining least are those that rely on mass transit or ride bicycles or own electric cars.  Several factors are at play, pushing the price up, among them a stone faced authoritarian in Moscow trying to take hold of a neighboring democratic country.  He’s using a propaganda machine to convince his country that his actions are justified, but many of his people, and much of the remaining world, see it differently.  

In our own country we remain divided, with each side accusing the other of behaviors and policies that threaten democracy and run counter to the constitution and our way of life. On both sides are caring people who ultimately want many of the same things but disagree miserably on how to get them. 

It’s spring in Ukraine, a season marked by mud, mixed precipitation, and blustery winds. With longer day lengths a period of growth and production is initiated regardless of how comfortable the weather feels. But it’s doubtful, this year, that Ukrainians will enjoy the season.  They have other matters to tend to.  

I saw a video of a group of Ukrainians huddled in a bunker trying to find relative shelter from an advancing Russian army. Among them was a young girl, Amelia, maybe 8 years old, and on cue from someone she began singing a Disney tune from the movie “Frozen.”  The people in the shelter fell silent as a voice as sweet as honey and the epitome of innocence filled the room:

Let it go, let it go

I am one with the wind and sky

Let it go, let it go

You’ll never see me cry

Here I stand and here I stay

Let the storm rage on

A couple weeks ago we watched a documentary entitled Living in the Time of Dying. We found it a refreshingly honest review of an impending environmental disaster that will not be avoided but can yet be prepared for. Being ready doesn’t sidestep discomfort or great sadness or assure survival, but it puts us in a better mental place where we can take satisfaction in never giving up and choosing to be at our best while accepting the inevitable. 

And so another war is launched. It garners the world’s attention and fuel costs soar and there are shouts for more drilling amid shouts for green energy and a little girl sings through it all with a voice as pure as a newly opened hyacinth. And we live on in a time of dying with the March sun notably warmer, carrying the certainty of spring.