Tag Archive | mule deer buck

This Week in Animal Action

A B-Brie-L-T on a quiet afternoon. I’m grateful for a peaceful lunchtime even as Hurricane Melissa bulldozes through Jamaica and the so-called president bulldozes the White House.

A friend sent me this link to a tour of the White House filmed by CBS in 1962 (how far they’ve fallen). If you have an hour it’s fascinating, and bittersweet. Jackie Kennedy walks us through the history and then her current tasteful, legal restoration. She quotes Theodore Roosevelt: “The White House is the property of the Nation… It should be kept as it originally was. It is a good thing to preserve such buildings as keep alive our sense of continuity with the Nation’s past.” In 1902, she continues, “President Roosevelt built two temporary extensions, which became permanent office wings.” It’s poignant in so many ways, including the respect shown to the structure through its many necessary structural renovations.

On an afternoon walk, I paused at a bench for a phone call and closed my eyes for a few minutes while we talked. Something shifted in the silence and I opened my eyes to this sight. It startled me, in a delightful way.

“It would have been easier and less expensive to demolish the whole building,” Jackie says, “but the White House is so great a symbol to Americans that the exterior walls were retained, and piece by piece the interior of the President’s house was put back together. The exterior views were exactly those which Americans had seen throughout the century…” After bringing us up to date on the history of The People’s House, Mrs. Kennedy takes us on a tour of the interior. The stark contrast between her respect for the house and the current situation beggars belief. She shows a plaque with words of President John Adams, “May none but Honest and Wise Men ever rule under This Roof.” Sigh.

As I watched them they watched each other. When Wren took a couple of steps toward him, he took a couple of steps toward her. I murmured for her to stay, to come back, and when she did then he stepped back.

A friend in Baltimore, who used to work in the East Wing as a calligrapher, shared a lament that she had posted in response to a CNN video about the demolition of this “regal, classically designed, and not at all gaudy” building:

“I shared the calligraphy studio with three other calligraphers and two interns. We scribed the most stunning historic documents, certificates, letters of diplomacy, invitations, menus, and even personal addresses of world dignitaries and celebrities…. I also managed The Signature Library, a room lined, floor to ceiling, of card catalog-type drawers, the wooden cabinets that we used to see in libraries, which stored THOUSANDS upon THOUSANDS of signatures of dignitaries and celebrities. No- we didn’t forge their signatures, each one was given to the White House for “procuration” (the opposite of forgery). Imagine this – a card for each individual, wrapped in archival glassine -signatures of important people from around the world, most of whom passed on decades ago. Each individual’s signature written and gifted one at a time through the ages, all brought to one room. A room no one knew existed but those who knew the East Wing. Have you ever conceived such a collection? If you’ve ever been in a space that inspired your intellect or called forth a sense of awe, this library would’ve blown you away. There isn’t even a display of this in the White House Museum. Now it’s GONE. RUBBLE. An INJURY.” 

Laura White

Their little dance continued for a few minutes as I watched in awe. Then Wren sat at my feet and the buck cautiously stepped around us and walked on his way. When he was out of sight we resumed our walk to the canyon.

I’m grateful to hear people’s stories. Yet another friend, a young man of Indian descent who lives in DC, met some National Guard troops from a small town in West Virginia on the streets the other night. “They were teenagers,” he said, “and they said they’d never seen anything like this before. When I asked what this is, they said colored people, diversity. They’d never seen brown people, they’d only read about us in books.” They also told him that they were excited to be in DC, put up at taxpayer expense at some of the best hotels in the city including the Ritz Carlton. (Current low-end rates there start at $700/night double occupancy, and I have to wonder if their government rates are more or less than that.)

There the awe continued with the cloud-studded sky, cottonwoods raining golden leaves, and a little dog undaunted on the edge.

This steadily overwhelming assault on decency is inflicting trauma on the American people. Some of us know it and some do not, yet. But more are realizing it, seeing truth clearly, every day. Indivisible is calling on people to support Democratic senators in holding firm on the government shutdown. Jess Piper encapsulates the regime’s message: “If you don’t give up trying to get affordable healthcare, then we will starve our citizens, kids included, elderly included.” Caving to this blackmail will not make things better.

One of the best antidotes to the anxiety of this savage demolition of democracy is ACTION. Opportunities abound! The other best antidote is spending time in Nature. It’s scientific! Research demonstrates that spending even a small amount of time in nature reduces stress and anxiety, boosts mental and physical health, and promotes emotional resilience. I’m grateful for the causes and conditions that led to my being able to spend time in nature almost every day.

Another morning this week I was inside working and looked out just in time to see a flock of piñon jays fly laughing into the yarden and descend upon the bird feeder. There were a couple dozen of them and because it was cold I could not hear them but I could see their cacophony. They were in constant motion, diving onto the feeder and pushing each other off; drinking at the birdbath and soaring away; a few individuals flew up to the window. No one stayed anywhere more than a few seconds. It was mesmerizing.

The feeder was essentially empty before they arrived. When their frenzy subsided a bit, I went out and filled the feeder again, scaring them off. But in ten minutes they were back, and in ten more the feeder was empty again. I was grateful to contribute to their sustenance as they moved through the area. They don’t actually migrate, but I don’t see them all the time. They seem to flock through sporadically at different times of year. They are listed as Vulnerable, due largely to habitat loss and climate chaos: “Documented climate impacts including widespread mortality and morbidity, reduced cone crops, and decreases in canopy cover of pinyon pines.

It’s been an exciting few days here on the mesa, with lots of animal action, hours of yarden work, plenty of people time, all wonderful antidotes to more than enough political awareness. I was grateful to sit with the little pets outside in the sun for a short while this afternoon, simply sit.

X-Rays

It’s their third winter together. I had hoped by now they’d be cuddling in front of the stove. I was grateful to see them lying peacefully, but seconds after I took this Wren succumbed to the Topaz vibe and gave up the rug, went back to her pillow. Oh well. At least they’re communicating in their own way.

The broccognocchini that kept on giving. For the second leftovers, I sautéed sliced portobello mushrooms and the next-to-last garden onion, then tossed in the gnocchi and more tomato sauce. Simple. Delicious.

The third leftover meal was even more simple, gnocchi boiled, drained, back in the pot with more red sauce, topped with parmesan and fresh chopped basil from the sunroom. The fourth and final leftover leftovers from the night before came out of the fridge, got a dollop of mayo, half a can of cannellini beans, celery salt, a sprinkle of homemade paprika, a sprig of fresh parsley, and an accidental cat hair I only just now noticed in the picture! Ick. And oh well. Hope I shook it off before I broke up the parsley but I don’t remember. The salad was delicious anyway. And so simple.

And now for something completely different! I’m grateful for a gold star at my three-month post-op visit. How the time has flown by! On the one hip, I mean hand, it’s hard to believe it’s been that long: I still remember that full moon night in the hospital vividly, and how utterly helpless I was when I first came home. On the other hand, it feels like a long journey from then to now, walking around without the cane half the time in the house, squatting to put firewood in the stove for the first time in years, shoveling snow, going up and down stairs like a grownup this week. Because the PT exercises gave me such trouble in my right hip initially, they x-rayed that as well as the left hip last week. The news was great for both hips: mild arthritis on the right side, just a little pinch at the front but a good smooth ball joint, “nothing like the deterioration of the other one”; and good bone growth starting onto the socket cup and top of the post in the right hip. He could see it, I can’t, but I’m willing to take his word for it. Not for the first time in my life, I’m grateful for x-rays.

Driving home after a successful venture out into the world, I was grateful to see this beautiful big buck strolling into the woods along the driveway. I paused and savored the vision. He was like my prize for a good doctor visit, for good healing, for taking care of myself.

Animals, morning noon and night

I’m grateful for days full of animals, morning noon and night. I wake with them in my bed. I’m grateful for my bed, with soft cotton sheets and blankets, fluffy pillows, and a sturdy mattress. I’m grateful for the clean sheets I switched out today for the rumpled bedding Wren and Topaz enjoyed last night.

I’m grateful for wild animals in the yard and the woods around the house, like this bachelor herd of young bucks west of the house the past few days.

I’m grateful for the promise already of spring, as I raised plastic over the early bed yesterday after tossing some snow on top. Let’s see how soon I have greens. Maybe in March?

I’m grateful for domestic animals like my neighbor’s little Shorty, and all the other horses in surrounding fields who add a dimension of life to the neighborhood, sometimes tranquil, sometimes exciting. I’m grateful that Wren and Shorty respected each other in their first meeting as Shorty strolled down and Wren strolled up the driveway. Once they satisfied their curiosity about one another, they each grazed peacefully on their own side of the gravel.

I’m grateful for these amazing cookies from NYT cookie editor Vaughn Vreeland, and for Cookie Week before Christmas featuring tempting cookie recipes every day. These gingerbread latte cookies give a real kick, with lots of espresso powder in them and rolled in an espresso-sugar-ginger dusting. Just one yesterday afternoon kept me up well past midnight, so now they’re for breakfast only.

And I’m grateful for silly little Wren again at the end of a busy day, relaxed and happy in her – I mean my -recliner. I’m grateful for dogs, cats, horses, deer, polar bears, manatees, chickadees, ravens, mountain lions, snow leopards, frogs, snakes, rays, sharks, octopi, osprey, bison, wolves, and Perdido key beach mice, as well as the millions of other mammals, birds, reptiles, amphibians, and fish, not to mention invertebrates. I’m grateful for animals, morning noon and night; though it makes me sad to think too hard about them, or to see pictures of some species, as human animals continue to devour and pollute the habitat of the other creatures we share the planet with, and of course wreak havoc with the climate. I’m grateful for people like the Bioneers and other researchers and activists who take seriously our relationship with other animals and the living organism that is Earth, striving to reconnect children of the Anthropocene with their roots in the animal kingdom.

The Cheese Sandwich

I was grateful to see this beautiful couple in the yarden when I woke this morning, and not troubled that he was scratching his head on the wild plum tree. And I was grateful to see the moisture still dripping from the trees after a light rain overnight.

I’m even more grateful than usual for the Cheese Sandwich. I realized today as I was making a simple havarti, lettuce, and pickle iteration just how much stress I’ve shed since surrendering to my obsession and delight in eating a cheese sandwich almost every day for lunch. As long as there’s bread in the box and cheese in the fridge, I no longer have to think, wonder, or worry about what to have for lunch. I am grateful to walk into the kitchen at lunchtime day after day and pull a delectable assortment of supporting ingredients together with cheese, bread, and mayonnaise to create a delicious, nourishing and often unique cheese sandwich. For most of my life meals were a twice-a-day struggle I was rarely prepared for. This has been another gift of the quiet solo time these past few years, settling into simple food routines that allow more peace and ease. As always, I’m profoundly grateful for the luxury of sufficient food.

I’m grateful for the bright little tabasco pepper that’s thriving in the sunroom and almost ready to harvest.

And finally, Wren is grateful that I made her another batch of Dog Fud. She watched the whole time I chopped and added ingredients, then devoured her dinner. This batch contained quinoa, ground turkey, black beans, sweet potatoes, broccoli, and tomatoes, along with wax beans and zucchini from the freezer. Later, she watched hopefully as I packed the cooled food into containers, and was rewarded by getting to lick to pot clean. Another simplifying routine becoming habitual.

Losing Growths

Grateful for a quiet day, for groceries, and for seeing this handsome buck in the yard. Looks like he’s dropped some of those awful growths, with only a couple remaining and not bad scars. I’m grateful for losing growths!

Equanimity

I feel so sad when I see this beautiful buck with awful growths hanging off of him. He’s been around the yarden along with the old doe; maybe he’s one of her youngsters from a few years ago, or maybe her baby-daddy. Today she had two spotted fawns running around outside the fence while she came inside to forage. When I took this shot of the buck north of the house, she was browsing on the peach tree to the east. I feel for the wild creatures, especially in this heat. I’m grateful I can provide them with some food, and a pond to drink from. And I’m grateful for the skill of equanimity so that my feelings for them can arise, exist for a time, and pass away; so that I can value their being without clinging to the outcome of their wild lives.

I’m grateful to see healthy tomatoes growing on some of the vines already, and eager for fruit; and I’m grateful for equanimity so that I’m not attached to the outcome of my harvest, knowing that the grasshopper infestation may demolish it all.

I’m grateful for the app Seek from iNaturalist which identified this native two-striped grasshopper for me, one of numerous species or varieties plaguing the yarden this summer. I guess grasshoppers are pretty interesting… apparently they are among “the most ancient living group of chewing herbivorous insects, dating back to the early Triassic around 250 million years ago,” according to Wikipedia. So it was wise of me to give up trying to get the best of them this intense year. They’ll get what they get of what I grow, and I’ll get the rest. Equanimity. Anything else I need, I’m grateful for local farmers’ markets.

And I’m grateful to have stumbled upon this lovely image in my archives as I was searching cloud photos for the newsletter. I took some time to enjoy memories of Hughlett Point in eastern Virginia, remembering my dear departed beloveds Auntie, Raven, and Stellar with a calm though aching heart.

Good Neighbors

I’m always grateful to live with good neighbors, human and other people. This handsome mule deer buck is quite at home in my yard, quite likely having grown up here over the years. He’s hanging out with a herd of does and their fawns from this year, and at least once a day they meander through the yarden, browsing and grazing. I watched him rip up some of this broom to his left, then chew on the piece he’d torn off. I’m grateful to him for doing some of my spring pruning early. Then he moved on to check out the ephedra, and the grass under the apricot tree. Topaz, Wren and I watched him and his family from the sunroom windows.

Shingles Vaccine

I’m grateful for a lot today. All the usual things, like waking up alive, hot water, good neighbors, and biscotti… And also some occasional things, like my first shingles vaccine at the clinic. I’m grateful that a couple of friends cared enough to twist my arm to go get it, and grateful it didn’t hurt more than it did. It’s left me by darkfall feeling extremely tired and a little bit weak, but that’s a small price to pay to avoid the lengthy torture of the virus.

I’m grateful for respiratory therapy with a compassionate, fun, holistic OT, who has served so many needs over the past few months, including today my craving for a sandwich made by someone other than me. She sent me to Sweetgrass down the street. I’m grateful for her recommendation of the Hal sandwich, which came with homemade potato chips. I brought it home to enjoy and saved enough turkey for another sandwich I’ll make here, after I make some bread. I’m grateful for stretching my boundaries enough to step into the cafe and wait for the till to clear to pick up the order, despite the unmasked crowd. It did put me in a slight dissociative state where I’m on high alert. I’m grateful for the awareness, and grateful after this full day to have my cozy bed waiting for me and the cat and the dog, who have now settled into a regular sleeping pattern one on each side of me. It’s my happy place. And that’s ok.

Harmony

The bucks are out strutting today, stalking after one another or does. Magnificent creatures. They show no fear as I walk up to open the driveway gate. I’m grateful to live in harmony with wild animals.

I’m grateful to have the ingredients, the recipe, and the skills to bake crusty sourdough rolls in lieu of buying them, saving me a trip into the grocery store, where pretty much everyone has decided there’s no more pandemic, if there ever was one. I’m grateful to see truth clearly.

A Quiet Sunday

I’m grateful for a quiet Sunday, as I often am. Life outside the house went on as usual, with the handsome buck who’s been grazing around for a few days visiting the apricot tree, sandhill cranes narrating overhead their migration south, high clouds providing light cover; magpies flocking through the yarden, and thousands of tiny lives being lived under the ground, in bark, in leaves, in trees, in grasses. Late morning Stellar gathered energy and we walked him out to his favorite tree. He lay around for awhile as I gathered seeds from marigolds, lettuce, calendula, fennel, radishes, and more, to save for late winter and spring planting. We both enjoyed time outside. When he was ready, we came back inside and went about our day, he resting and watching as I worked, wrote, laundered, tidied, cleaned, made food for us, napped beside him, did the crossword, read. I’m grateful for adapting to the flow of circumstance, dwelling deeply in the present. I’m grateful for a quiet Sunday much like any other in our years together, now winding down toward bedtime. Simple pleasures, no expectations, no regrets.

Stellar at noon today, resting under his favorite tree.
Stellar at five with his little friend Badger.