Charlie died of kidney failure. I can’t know this for sure, of course, but based on the speed of this whole thing, his eventual refusal to eat, and the anemia that was apparent from his tongue (it got progressively pale and was nearly white by the end), my vet said all signs pointed to kidney failure, too advanced by the time he showed symptoms to have done anything about. Charlie seemed to be improving for a couple of weeks which is why I thought it was arthritis and which, frankly, was the only reason I was capable of sharing that first update – and I’m so glad I did. Having you all looped in has helped me more than I ever could have imagined. We buried Charlie under his favorite tree.” – Shreve Stockton, weblog, 10/27/2020
I’ve been following Charlie’s exploits in Stockton’s blog “The Daily Coyote” from the beginning when she adopted the orphaned coyote pup in Wyoming in 2007, knowing that his life depended on her. They became companions (co-pilots, as she says, rather than master and pet) for the rest of Charlie’s life. Raising a wild thing: others said it couldn’t be done, but she did it well. You can find the story of her first year with Charlie in her 2008 book, also called The Daily Coyote.
Charlie came to Stockton’s ranch about the time I was researching my novel Sarabande. A coyote has an important role in the book. I soon found that the up-close-and-personal research I needed didn’t exist–until Shreve was gracious and answered my e-mail questions. I included her name in the book’s acknowledgments, but that never seemed to be enough.
Inasmuch as I was reading about Charlie every day, I continued to learn about coyotes and should say that, though it wasn’t my intention, Charlie was the role model for Apí’si in my novel. So I will miss my “online friend” named Charlie though he doesn’t know me.
Early on in her blog, Shreve said that many people were asking how they could see Charlie. Her answer was simply this: “Charlie doesn’t want to see you.” That’s as it should be, and I understand.
Apparently, the movers and shakers of humankind have been working diligently to end the world. If not, we wouldn’t be where we are on so many fronts.
Except for various clans of deniers, including those who think history, science, and the notion of a round earth are bunk, most people are accepting climate change as inevitable. How do we know this? Because they’re keeping quiet, just watching it happen. Some people are fighting, speaking out, but it’s too little, too late.
The movers and shakers who–for reasons of insanity or short term gratification of the riches gained from habitat destruction–want the world to call it a day missed their chance to end life as we know it years ago. They could have kept the U.S. out of World War II, let Hitler and Hirohito have it all, and head toward the resulting, predicted ruin.
We had enough nuclear weapons to do the job, but we didn’t. It would have been quick, possibly a spectacular sight to aliens watching from a universe far away. Instead, we’ve opted for the slower annihilation of climate change–the fires, the hurricanes, the rising oceans, the diseases, the chaos. Where is the honor in that?
We’re all accomplices, though, aren’t we? We’ve accepted the notion that we were somehow different than the rest of the world’s flora and fauna and that “taming the land” was okay even if it meant destroying the land because we’re superior to mere rivers and forests, much less the problems of oceans with plastic and rivers with toxic waste..
The land is having its say, but we’re not listening. I’m surprised that the molecules that make up human beings haven’t fled the planet out of guilt and embarrassment to return to the dying stars whence they came. Many have spoken on the land’s behalf, individuals like Edward Abbey, John Muir, Wendell Berry, David Brower, Rachel Carson, and organizations like Audubon, Nature Conservancy, Sierra Club, National Parks and Conservation Association, Wilderness Society. Many like what they hear from these people, but then they go back to sleep.
I don’t have any answers. I can suggest that every time the current administration rolls back environmental protections that took decades to put in place, that we put a stop to it. I can suggest that when we hear of measures–getting rid of plastic, for example–that are good ways to combat climate change that we implement them in our lives rather than saying, “No worries, that’s just climate change BS.”
When it comes down to it, I suspect a lot of people have suggestions for things we can do thwart those who are intent on ending the world. Sure, most of those suggestions are inconvenient and cost money. But then, the impact of climate change is also costing money–for example, the lives and money lost due to the western wildfires along with the cost of fighting the fires.
Doomsday-clock-wise, we have 100 seconds left. So at the end of this rant, let me say that it’s time to shift our attention away from our celebrities and cell phones and cars and focus our concerns on saving the planet. Once we accomplish that, we can watch the next season of “Survivor” with the proven knowledge that the show is about us.
Black titi (pronounced tie-tie), Cliftonia monophylla, sometimes called the Buckwheat Tree, is a perennial evergreen shrub/tree found in Florida’s wet flatwoods and bogs. Deer and bees like it a lot. Sometimes native plant nurseries can find it for your garden. The flowers are generally white and bloom in the spring.
I refer to it often in my Florida Folk Magic Series because it’s ubiquitous in the Florida Panhandle along with slash pines, longleaf pines, scrub oak, and saw palmetto. The word drives proofreaders crazy because they think it’s scandalously pronounced as titty.
In spite of this map, I see titi has more of a western Florida Panhandle plant with fewer occurrences in Peninsular part of the state.
I like the plant’s description in the Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Center’s database: “Native from southeastern North America south through Central America and the West Indies to northeastern South America, this deciduous tree stays under 30 ft., and, though it looks shrubby for several years, eventually makes a slender tree with smooth, cinnamon-colored trunks; abundant, showy, whorled clusters of airy, white blooms; and dark-green leaves. In the northern part of its range, the leaves turn rust-red in fall, dropping in spring just as the new leaves unfurl. Farther south, plants are nearly evergreen. Summer fruits are yellow-brown.”
Nice concepts. But, there are so many worthy causes not even counting family and friends. Hard to choose. And then, if you’re so inclined, there are political campaigns now on top of all the charities, funds, non-profits, and other organizations asking for cash.
Some say every dollar helps. So they ask for $25. That’s not too bad–unless you tally up how many requests for $25 you get every month. Sometimes I get multiple requests from the same place and feel like sending back a note that says, I’m not Jo Rowling, Bill Gates, James Patterson, or an oil baron from Saudi Arabia. How much do you think I have after paying the rent?
Some requests bother me, and those are the ones from everyday people like me who get behind on their mortgage payments (or whatever) and put up a crowdfunding link on Facebook and we’re all rather shamed into kicking in to help somebody we don’t know make ends meet. Yet, I read how they got into debt–because I’ve been there–and wish I could contribute.
I tend to contribute to environmental causes–the National Parks, a “Friends of” group for a specific park, the National Parks and Conservation Association, etc. Like many, I try to keep up with which general charities use an exorbitant amount of the money donated for administrative costs (and goodness knows what).
There’s so much to be done, doing it seems overwhelming. Personally, I don’t care for the size of the defense budget and think a lot of that money could be better used in other programs. All of us probably have our own pet peeves about “bad” uses of government funds that we think could be put to better use somewhere else. So, as a lover of National Parks, it ticks me off that Congress won’t appropriate enough money to keep them running, and this causes those of us who really can’t afford to do it to contribute to programs the government ought to be funding.
Whatever your favorite causes are, there’s always a chain of events that created the problem, e.g., people with high medical bills going bankrupt and needing help. Yes, we can and should speak out for change, but until that change occurs, we have a lot of pieces to pick up that aren’t being covered by the government, churches, charities, and “Friends of” organizations.
I felt rather discouraged when some financial organization or other said, in response to “tax the rich” campaigns, that even if the government took all of the rich’s money, it would be a drop in the bucket insofar as the deficit and/or funding needs are concerned. That makes my $25 contribution to Glacier National Park seem rather inconsequential. All I can hope is that my $25 along with a $25-dollar check for several thousand other people actually will help make things better whether we’re paying it forward or giving back.
Does anyone else wrestle with the amount of money needed vs. the amount anyone of us can contribute?
There are weeks, aren’t there, when all the news is bad, when new studies come out that tell us texting, climate change, and lack of personal eye contact with each other will be the ruination of everything. Maps are published that show how rising seas will eat away at coastlines, then states, then countries.
My grandparents thought radio and then TV and then Elvis were signs of a degraded populace. Every generation seems to point at some habit or phase of the next generation that spells doom. As we get older, we find out that not only our parents’ generation but our parents themselves were wilder when they were kids than they would acknowledge when we were growing up and pushing various envelopes.
The soothsayers seem to rejoice in proclaiming “The end is near.”
With gobal warming, I begin to wonder if the end is near. A lot of people are denying that it’s happening–in spite of the evidence. And that includes the current administration, one that is also rolling back clean air and water protections and other environmental rules. I remember when Jay Leno, on the old Tonight Show, used to interview people on the street about historical and other facts that my generation saw as baseline knowledge. More often than not, people didn’t even know the name of our President, where California is, and other basic facts.
Is our texting generation creating anew this aura of general stupidity about how the world works, where states and countries are, and whether or not rising seas constitute a real problem? I hate texting–so, I have a bias. But sidewalks filled with people who are looking at their cellphones is disturbing. What the hell can y’all possibly be talking about that’s more important than where you are and the people around you?
Do things like this worry you?
I’m beginning to wonder if I should start a new blog called “The end is near.”
I think many poets, myself included, are struggling with how to keep writing in the face of the environmental degradation that is looming over us and our children, the beauties and seasons that will be lost, the diversity of flowers and trees and butterflies and fish. These are in danger of vanishing before the words for them do. Poetry is extremely hardy—it was around before the alphabet and will outlast many kinds of human technology. I am robustly optimistic about poetry, but that is maybe the only thing I am optimistic about.
I think a lot about Richard Wilbur’s “Advice to a Prophet”: “Whether there shall be lofty or long-standing / When the bronze annals of the oak-tree close.” So much of our language is rooted in the old seasons, and in a miraculous natural world. It is terrifying to think that the language will outlast some of these. On the other hand, I suppose there will be new metaphors, and the poets of the future will find a way forward. – A. E. Stallings
Should writers be political? I think the answer is “yes,” though in many countries being political results in a death sentence or life imprisonment. Each of us does this in our own way. We don’t write in a vacuum. It’s hard to ignore the slings and arrows of fads, bad government, and horrible business decisions. However, many of our potential readers say they’re tired of logging on to Facebook and other services, much less the news sites, and seeing a continuous flow of bad news.
I’ve been an environmentalist for a long time, so Stalling’s words resonate with me. My response in my fiction has usually been to celebrate the natural world. Perhaps this is not enough. It appears that more people want to celebrate suburbia than the world as it was created. So, how do writers approach that point of view?
Many writers have focused on climate change. Yet readers seem to think such works are “over the top” and that climate change either isn’t happening, isn’t caused by humankind, or that the worst scenarios won’t play out for hundreds of years. I’m not a scientist, so I can’t say how soon the Earth’s environment will collapse. But we’ve been warned, I think. The least writers can do is celebrate the environment and have their fictional characters worry about global chaos.
The best we can do, perhaps, is allowing our characters the opportunity of expressing the kinds of fears we have. This way, we’re not beating our readers over the head with politics and activism. We’re telling stories in which folks have the same worries many of us have. I doubt that most people read stories that sound like a list of the political arguments of the day. So, unless we have a seriously hardy theme, we need to be careful about how political we are.
Our readers want stories, not political tracts. Yet, we can inject our opinions if we are careful about how we do it.
“Along Florida’s coasts, oysters play a vitally-important role in supporting healthy estuaries. Oyster reefs provide multiple benefits, from providing habitat and food for wildlife, to filtering water, removing nitrogen, and stabilizing eroding coastlines. Oysters are also a favorite cuisine for people and Florida once had robust oyster fisheries in many areas throughout the state.
“’Oysters are the quiet, unsung heroes of our estuaries, working hard every day to protect our coasts, clean our waters, feed and shelter fish, birds, crabs, shrimp and other wildlife,’” said Anne Birch, marine program manager for The Nature Conservancy in Florida. “When we help to restore and conserve oyster habitat and support the fishery we’re also helping our estuaries and our coastal communities flourish.”
Storms, reduced river water flows, and pollution are taking their toll on oysters, including those along the Florida Panhandle’s gulf coast where I grew up and where I’ve set many of my books. I’m happy to see that the Nature Conservancy chose to study and solve this problem–one that’s worldwide, actually.
“For almost twenty years Glacier has been listening to visitors from all over the country, the world and residents of Montana complaining about the NOISE of helicopter sightseeing tours in the Park. Its time for them to STOP.
“Glacier National Park has been steadfast in their commitment to discontinue overflights since studies in 1999 determined them to be inappropriate, having adverse impact on wildlife, visitors and all the natural sounds. Helicopter noise pollution has no place in an International Peace Park and World Heritage site, abounding in wilderness, serenity, majesty and quiet. Noise has no boundaries and cannot be contained.
“A quagmire of regulations have prevented the protection of the peace and quiet Glacier was known for and for which millions every year travel to experience.. That’s the bad news. What’s the good news? We can help Glacier Park get QUIET!”
I’ve disliked these absurd helicopter overflights from the beginning. The National Park Service doesn’t want them. But so far, the FAA won’t ban them. Meanwhile, the tranquility of the place, the visitor experience, and the natural habitat is compromised by noise.
If you don’t like this either, click on the link above and sign the petition.
Hurricane Michael is aimed at the place where I grew up. Almost everyone from Florida has seen storms before, but the odd thing is, each time a new storm arrives I see lists of things people should do to get ready and be safe. People should know these things already as surely as they know to look both ways before crossing the street and not taking a bath with a plugged-in toaster.
If my family lived in Tallahassee now, we probably wouldn’t leave. However, we would leave if we lived in Carrabelle, St. Marks, and other coastal communities in the storm’s path. Every year, there are hurricane deniers who say they’re ready to ride out the storm as though they are bigger than the storm. We saw what happened to those people when hurricane Florence struck: they needed to be rescued and that put first-responders’ lives at risk.
I have no idea whether the timing, routes, and ferocity of Florence and Matthew have anything to do with global warming. But, inasmuch as those storms are arriving at the same time as we’re hearing another set of global warming warnings, they remind me of the fact that many people have denied the importance of the environment for years and they seem to be treating warnings about rising seas, droughts, fires, and other effects the same way they treat hurricane warnings.
Years ago, we began hearing the term “spaceship earth.” We were told that in spite of Earth’s apparent resilience to poisons, plastics, rainforest clearing, fracking, and other forms of pollution and environmental damage, that our planet was–in many ways–a spaceship traveling through space with limited resources and a failing infrastructure. Multiple environmental groups have been complaining about the damage ever since I was in grade school, and probably before that.
I was naïve in the 1960s when I joined the Sierra Club because I actually thought people were smart enough to take those warnings seriously. Now I think that spaceship earth is either a ship of fools or is carrying passengers who are delusional idiots. Apparently, restricting one’s actions to help the environment is so inconvenient that allowing Earth to fail is worth it. Most people think it will happen years after they’re gone. So they don’t worry about it. That foolish idiocy keeps them from seeing it’s happening now.
For those who love dystopian fiction, watch the news. We are living it. There’s no need to make it up. And to ramp up our feelings of danger, the current Presidential administration has appointed kamikaze pilots to every single post that can impact spaceship earth for better or worse. So far, they are choosing “worse.” We can shake our fists at the storm and say we’re going to ride it out.
Philosophers have said that a weed is a perfectly innocent plant that just happens to be growing where you don’t want it to be.
I don’t buy it.
Case in point: Septic Tank Field Line.
In the old days, when you built a house in the country, you added an outhouse. Later, when indoor plumbing came into fashion, the county required a perc test to make sure what you flush actually went away from the septic tank within a preferred amount of time. Our county changed the rules about a half hour before we started building our house.
First let me point out that our area has hundreds of houses with indoor plumbing that are connected to septic tanks placed after a perc test was done. So far, none of those houses has become an EPA clean-up site.
So now, the county requires a soil sample. Our test said we had bad soil except in a half-acre space that used to be a garden. The system of field lines required by the county was almost prohibitively expensive. Because those lines are close to the surface and because we’re next to a farm with heavy cows that would make a mess of those field lines if they walked through the old garden, we had to fence it in.
As we were paying for all this, my question to the county was why were two people living in a house such a big sanitation issue when there were over eighty head of cattle next door doing their business without environmental issues–or bad smells? I never got an answer because the county blamed the feds.
So, the highest weeds in the yard are in the fenced-in field line plot. Well, they’re certainly being watered often enough. If I mow them on the first day of the month, the weeds will have to be mowed again in a couple of weeks. By then, they’re taller than the riding mower.
Case in Point: The Old Chicken House
Chickens haven’t lived in the old chicken house since before my wife was born. When she was a kid growing up on this property, bales of hay were stored there. At some point, a section of it burnt down and was just left that way because hay hadn’t been stored there for years. Mainly, it was full of farm debris nobody knew what to do with, so it ended up there.
A year ago, just after I stored a whole lot of new debris in there, we had the burnt end of it shored up. Also, a lot of the weeds and brush were cleared away from it. I haven’t needed to get rid of any junk for a while, so we haven’t been in there. Now that I cleaning out the other half of our 1920s garage and have stuff to move to the chicken house, I can’t get in.
Weeds. I’m not talking about dandelions and other tiny plants, but big woody plants whose goal is to become the forest primeaeval. I tried to explain to them that there are a lot of other places on this property where they can set up housekeeping and raise families. No luck. So, I spent the morning with long-handled pruning shears clearing a tunnel through the mess so I could get into the chicken house with debris that one day down the road the heirs to this property will have to deal with.
Case in Point: The Yard
Modern-day environmentalists complain a lot about yards. Even in ticky-tacky subdivisions, they (the environmentalists) say the yard should be left in a wild state or turned into a garden. Homeowners associations and city commissions don’t like that because both plans destroy the conformity of the neighborhood, tick off neighbors, and purportedly provide places for evildoers to hide.
We’re slowly getting rid of the grass in our yard by adding small trees so that one day, the yard will be nothing but shrubs, wildflowers, trees, and mulch. Until we finish this project, the yard is rather like a huge weed. We can have a month of drought followed by a day-long monsoon, and suddenly the yard-weed comes to life and grows so fast that after we mow it, people say we should have baled the cut grass for the cattle.
Nothing on the property grows as fast and as stubbornly as the weeds. I’m sure we’ll have to replace the riding mower blades soon because grass and weed height are doing them in. Some people say we should buy goats because they’ll take care of the problem, can “do their business” like the cows without an expensive septic tank, and are cute.
I guess we could put them in the chicken house if we can ever get inside. If we don’t, the coyotes will carry them off during the night. Grim people say that if the world ends, only the cockroaches will survive. They may be right. And they’ll have plenty of weeds to hide behind.