Blog ~ Ruffled Feathers

Thoughts, ideas, perspectives, ruminations. If we make it through life without ruffling a few feathers, have we really lived?

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So Smart – Day 1005

Posted on by Lisa Weikel Leave a comment
Salmon – photo: bbc.com

So Smart

We think we’re so smart. It’s true. It’s rare indeed for anyone to look back on life 100 years ago, much less a thousand years ago, and think, “Wow! They were so smart. Why don’t we give that a try?”

Nope. We’ve been pretty much conditioned to always think modern is better; that innovation and moving forward always means better.

But you have to wonder sometimes. Are there innovations we’re struggling to come up with in the present day that our ancestors (or perhaps the ancestors of people who were wiped out completely) already had pegged millennia ago?

Glad You Asked

Needless to say, I read a fascinating article posted on FB today (hush) that was so great I had to write a quick post about it.

Apparently there have been posts sticking up out of the sand of Comox Harbour, which is located on the east coast of Vancouver Island, for hundreds of years. No one seemed to know what they were and as a result of a lot of disparate circumstances coming together (none of them particularly great to contemplate), no one to ask.

That seems to have been the case until just after the turn of this century, when a college undergrad indulged her curiosity and began a project that took 13 years of patient post counting and then relentless research and downright sleuthing to expose the purpose of the posts.

Sustainable Fishing

Turns out the posts are the last remnants of a means of fishing that warrants study and replication today. Quickly, in fact, as we all know salmon populations are rapidly diminishing due to not only the damming of rivers essential to spawning but the warming of waters due to climate change. We’re in grave danger of being the last generation to know the gift of eating salmon.

But perhaps worse is why no one knew what the posts were. The systematic obliteration of the culture of that area is sickening and morally reprehensible.

I’m going to link to the article again here. The only true issue I have with this article (beyond the inexcusable and appalling treatment of the indigenous of that area) is the journalist’s need to not only iterate but reiterate the fact that the undergraduate who spearheaded this project was ‘mature.’

How or why that is newsworthy escapes me. But I congratulate said ‘mature’ Nancy Greene for her persistence in tracking down this fascinating means of catching fish – which also enabled the fishers to release back into the wild those that exceeded the needs of the people.

How astonishingly refreshing. Imagine.

(T-106)

Where Am I? – Day 1004

Posted on by Lisa Weikel Leave a comment
Sunset 10 Aug 2021 – Photo: L.Weikel

Where Am I?

“Wuh – what? Where am I?” That’s a mini reenactment of my experience about five minutes ago. As many of you know, I mostly tend toward being a ‘night owl,’ which enables me to hunker down to write my posts starting at about 11:00 p.m. or later. I’ve tried many times to begin writing them earlier, only to dump almost all of those sad early attempts into my drafts folder, never to be seen again.

So it’s been my lot to exercise trust over these many days, weeks, months, and – wow – it’s now true that I can literally say years and not be hyperbolic! Every evening, I exercise trust that something will get written. While I may not crank out stellar prose, it’ll at least get the job done in the moment.

Fast forward to ten minutes ago when I was awakened by <<shudder>> my own snoring. Good grief! This aging thing isn’t pretty.

It’s the Weather

I’ll blame it on the weather. Why not?

The last two days have lain a blanket of oppression over our area. I break into a sweat just thinking about walking outside. It seems ironic that it’s actually hard to breathe on the East Coast right now primarily because of the amount of water in the air. The humidity is so high, it’s as if we’re breathing through a sponge strapped to our faces like the monster in Alien. (Dating myself here, woops.)

I say it’s ironic to have so much water in the air here on the East Coast when our loved ones on the West Coast (and other areas of the world, to be sure) are literally burning up. The air out there is so dry that it practically spontaneously combusts. I can’t imagine living through that for any length of time, and I apologize for complaining about the humidity here, when I realize you would give anything for it.

And then there’s the Midwest, which is just basically choking on the smoke wafting through the atmosphere of their states, burning eyes and clinging inside throats. Awful enough if you have a home with air conditioning. Horrifying to contemplate if you’re housing impaired or can’t afford air conditioning.

Who Are We Kidding?

I’m going to guess ourselves.

But I’m also going to refuse to accept the notion that we are powerless to stop the chaos unfolding around us. We started this thing; we’ve enabled this thing; and we can not only stop it but turn this thing around.

I truly believe that if we just even reach out to Mother Earth, she will do everything she can to reach back out to us. What I mean by that is that we must dig deep and we must try. We must resist the temptation to yield to despair and assume there’s no hope. While it may not seem as though our efforts will yield the magnitude of change we desire (and think is unquestionably necessary) I urge us all to give Nature – Mother Earth herself – an opportunity to match our efforts, to work in partnership with us (if we would only just try).

Here’s an interesting article I just read. It may be from 2016, but it feels relevant now, given the overwhelm so many of us are feeling right now. And I’m curious to read the book coming out next month from Paul Hawken, Regeneration, Ending the Climate Crisis in One Generation*.

But right now, I think I need to go to sleep.

*affiliate link

(T-107)

Wildlife – Day 1003

Posted on by Lisa Weikel Leave a comment
Cutie – Photo: L. Weikel

Wildlife

I’ve had three surprisingly close encounters with wildlife in the past 24 hours – and that doesn’t even count the eight fawns (two of which popped out of the brush beside the road to scamper in front of my car – twice) and 5 does I passed.

I only managed to get photos of the first encounter. But as you can see, s/he was a cutie!

Hard to call this WILDlife – Photo: L. Weikel

First

This little raccoon was on the side of the road as I was driving home last night after taking my photos of Jupiter and Saturn. I may not have succeeded in seeing any Perseids, but – what was that? As I passed by several clusters of leaves littering the side of the road, I caught sight of what looked like a small cat-like creature scratching its ear with its hind leg. I was tired and realized it may have been just another clump of fallen leaves, but I turned the car around in a driveway and headed back for another look.

As my headlights washed a broad beam onto the side of the road, I could see that it was indeed a small animal. My window down, I pulled up slowly to see if I could snap a photo of it before it ran away. Well, didn’t this little creature come walking right up to me? It looked lost and a little like it just wanted to be held, to be honest. (Yes. Of course I was talking to it the whole time. And no, I had no intention of holding a wild animal.) But it bothered me that it had moved into the road as it responded to me.

I drove down the road a piece and turned around yet again. I hated having my headlights trained on it, but I needed to be able to see it and hoped it would want to retreat from the lights. In fact, that’s what happened. S/he crossed the road in front of me and descended into a culvert.

Next Encounter

I was sitting in my car following the tremendous thunderstorms that went through the area early this evening. Half in and half out of the car, my right leg was inside the car and my left on the ground. I was looking at something in my lap when all of a sudden a squirrel ran from behind my car and almost bumped into my left leg! It just stood there on its hind legs – sort of taken aback by the encounter as much as I was. I yelped involuntarily and it ran off.

It was an odd encounter.

Final for the Night

About an hour later, Spartacus and I were taking a walk on our usual ‘walk around’ route (our shorter, two mile excursion). He’s getting older and it shows: he’s developed cataracts and his hearing is not what it used to be either.

Thus he missed the coyote that loped across the road about 20’ away from us. What a gorgeous animal! At first I thought it was an adult fox, but the tail had more of a look of a dog than the fluffy, sticking straight out tail of a fox. And its coloring was more brown and dark gray as opposed to the usual rust-colored fur of a fox. Needless to say, it didn’t ‘say’ anything to us as it passed!

Spart may have missed it as it crossed, but as we approached where it disappeared into the bushes, his nose got him all sorts of excited. And historically, he has not had quite the same reaction to foxes. So, again, my sense is that the creature that padded across our path was definitely a coyote.

What a wonderful day, filled with close encounters with the wildlife that share our habitat. And just as I write this, a screech owl serenades me just outside my door. Wow.

Hopefully heading home – Photo: L. Weikel

(T-108)

Perseid Meteors – Day 1002

Posted on by Lisa Weikel Leave a comment
Jupiter and Saturn taken minutes ago – Photo: L. Weikel

Perseid Meteors

Over the past few nights, the sky has been exquisitely clear in my neck of the woods, especially around midnight. In spite of conducive conditions, I’ve yet to catch a glimpse of any Perseid meteors streaking across the sky. I’m hopeful, though. Maybe tonight will be my lucky night.

Technically, the Perseids last until August 24th but they are at ‘maximum streaks per minute’ across the sky later this week.

Of course, as I looked up into the moonless sky last night, thinking about the Perseids and how happy I am when they arrive every year, I was distracted by a few other bright celestial objects calling out to me.

Jupiter & Saturn right now – w/horizon – Sky Guide app

Jupiter and Saturn

First and among the most prominent are Jupiter and Saturn.

Jupiter is pretty hard to miss in the Southeastern sky. It’s obvious why this massive planet is deemed to be a ‘benefic,’ or planet that brings good fortune to us when it makes aspects in our charts. Jupiter is the ‘biggest’ planet we can see with our naked eyes, the one that unexpectedly draws our eyes toward it and say, “What’s that?”

And once again, I must confess, I cannot gush enough about my Sky Guide astronomy app. I love how it tells me exactly what I’m looking at – and even shows me what’s going on below the horizon. The Milky Way dazzles on this app – and only makes me ache to see it again from a place with little vast stretches of open sky and little light pollution.

I was thinking about all of you last night as my heart kept opening wider and wider. I was on my back on top of a picnic table, entranced by the night sky and the accompanying cadence of crickets and katydids. The ethereal music the app creators added to the Sky Guide is truly a perfect accompaniment to cosmos-gazing.

Jupiter & Saturn – just minutes ago – Photo: L. Weikel

Shooting ‘Stars’

I’m almost always amply rewarded for my determination to celebrate our planet’s annual trek through space dust – a/k/a the Perseid Meteor Showers. My only worry is that it’ll be cloudy on Wednesday (11th) or Thursday (12th) night, when ideally they should be peaking.

Believe me, I know how hard it can be to drag yourself outside once you’ve settled in for the evening. But the magic inherent in drinking in the vastness of the visible universe borders on the indescribable, and I want all of you to remember to indulge if you are so inclined.

It seems to me that we so easily and so often forget our relative unimportance in the grand scheme of things. It’s essential, in my opinion, that we remind ourselves of that insignificance every once in a while, especially when we’re on the brink of trashing this beautiful blue planet and potentially rendering it uninhabitable.

Are we truly incapable of raising our game and actually becoming thoughtful stewards of this planet? I’d like to think we’re still redeemable, but my hope is dimming.

Another view of Jupiter & Saturn with a bit of the Milky Way; Sky Guide app!

(T-109)

All These Ones – Day 1001

Posted on by Lisa Weikel Leave a comment
Ripples – Photo: L. Weikel

All These Ones

Holy cow! With all these ones surrounding us tonight and a powerful new moon to boot, how could it not be a time for fresh starts, planting seeds of creative intention, and contemplating the new stories we’re ready to begin weaving in our lives?

In case you’re puzzling over exactly what ‘ones’ I’m talking about, it’s the “Day 1001” above and the “(T-110)” at the end of this post. Ones galore. New beginnings. And since many of you have been faithful compatriots over the long slog that’s brought us to yesterday’s milestone – now with only 110 left to go! – I dare say each one of you is undoubtedly standing at the cusp of something new in your life, too.

Perhaps it’s a major life decision, such as selling your home, pursuing a new field of study or expertise, opening your own business, or adopting a baby. Or maybe it’s something on a much smaller scale – or perhaps only seems so in this moment – but may end up changing the major trajectory of your life.

Flow and Bubbles – Photo: L. Weikel

So Much Going On All Around Us

With all the static and confusion, the rancor and fear that’s swirling around us, I challenge us all to find one new little twist we can add to the story of our lives right this moment. Even if the new thought or activity only changes five minutes of the story we tell ourselves, what will happen if we think it and then act on it?

Where will those new and different five minutes of our lives lead us? That new thought or choice might seem to shift the strands of our destiny a single degree from where they were otherwise headed. But over time? Wow. It could lead to a transformation of our reality.

I’m sharing ‘all these ones’ with each of you. If you weren’t reading my words, then they wouldn’t matter in the least.

And so I invite you to embrace this opportunity to add a little spice to our stories. And ok. If you’d rather sweet instead of spice, I say, “Go for it!” Either way, or even another way entirely, recall the tantalizing anticipation that comes with starting a new book or movie and imagine feeling that way about your tomorrow.

(T-110)

Major Impetus – Day 1000

Posted on by Lisa Weikel 2 Comments
Prize for Reaching 1,000 – Photo: L. Weikel

Major Impetus

Is something magical going to descend from above and cover me like a blanket of feathers* after I hit the ‘publish’ button tonight? Will my attitude toward my 1111 Devotion – or my writing in general – undergo a transformation once I hit the 1,000 club? I ask these questions because a major impetus behind my decision to embark upon this Act of Power was a blog post I read by Seth Godin.

As the title of that particular post implies (“The first 1,000 are the most difficult”), Seth maintains that reaching the milestone of writing 1,000 blog posts can make a huge difference in how a person perceives themselves. Understandably, this shift in perception can also significantly impact how a person approaches their concept of themselves as a writer.

My Attitude

I will admit that hitting the 1,000 mark is a bit of a stunner. It’s amusing to me that 995 posts ago, I wrote an explanation how finding Seth’s post about ‘the first 1,000’ felt like a message to me. I’d asked how I could honor Karl’s life, and in particular his creativity, and this showed up in my face. The weird thing was, I hadn’t even read it when it first arrived in my email a week or two earlier. I only saw it that morning because I accidentally clicked on it in my email.

Suffice it to say, it seemed at the time that I was getting a major nudge to wake up and pay attention to what was (and wasn’t) ‘working’ in my life. And if I found my attitude or circumstances wanting, then I needed to change my story.

Celebrating 1,000

In reflecting upon the impetus behind choosing to write 1111 consecutive posts as my ‘devotional’ Act of Power, I looked up the entry in which I described how I arrived at that number. (I remembered the part about the power of 1,000.) What I forgot, though, was the appearance of the other Seth Godin post: the one that spoke of the power of changing your story.

I feel yet another change in my story approaching again. Perhaps I will plant that seed in some way tomorrow, both in honor of attaining the dramatic 1,000 mark and also to take advantage of the powerful new moon in Leo. This 8th day of August 2021 promises to be a powerful day of manifestation.

It might behoove us all to contemplate our stories. Do we wish to change them? Now might be a great time to begin.

A Prize From Above

Finally, as Spartacus and I walked this evening on the freshly macadamed road along our usual path, something beautiful caught my attention.

The way in which this feather was standing at attention in the midst of tall grasses, its shaft gently nestled amidst the new pavement was curious. I don’t know how I caught sight of it. But there it was.

I’ll take it as one of my beloved signs. I’ll trust that perhaps the time is coming to change my story yet again.

What a ‘Random’ Gift – Photo: L. Weikel

*I just realized: I DID receive a feather! Ha!

(T-111)

What a Number – Day 999

Posted on by Lisa Weikel Leave a comment
Stars Through the Forest – Photo: L. Weikel

What a Number

What a number I just typed into the title line, above. Could I really be writing my last three-digit post tonight?

Numerologically speaking, this feels like an ending, even if I’ve not yet arrived at my goal of 1111 consecutive posts. Nines are completion. Three nines, no matter how you look at them, sort of hammer home the concept of completion. Beyond the simple fact of three nines comprising the number, if you add the nines, 9+9+9 = 27 and then 2+7=9. No matter which way you look at 999, it reduces to a 9, and thus it represents a wrapping up, a conclusion, an end to something.

Not My 1111 Devotion

The number 999 may signify completion of something, on some level, but it does not mean I intend to quit my Act of Power before I reach my goal. No; there remain 112 posts to write, and I intend to write them, Goddess willing.

It represents the end of three-digit posts. That’s pretty lame.

Honestly, I don’t know what – if anything – reaching this number signifies, other than I’m plugging along, doing my thing, honoring my word.

Day after day (technically night after night), I blow a quick kiss to my eldest son when I hit ‘publish’ and whisper, “I miss you so damn much. I remember you every single day. And I do this one little thing each night because I said I would. Because I love you.”

And although it’s a little thing, sometimes that’s the best I can do.

Fire Sprite Rising – Photo: L. Weikel

(T-112)

Hunker Down – Day 998

Posted on by Lisa Weikel Leave a comment
Arf! – Photo: L. Weikel

Hunker Down

Is it just me? Or are you guys feeling it too? Lately I can’t even walk into the grocery store without feeling an edginess in the air that’s unlike anything I’ve felt before (especially in the grocery store!). Even when the pandemic was first starting to rear its ugly head back in March and April 2020, I didn’t feel this level of anxiety in the general populace. If you ask me it’s time to hunker down again.

OK, I’ll admit it. That’s coming from a person who probably would choose ‘Hunkering Down for $200, Alex.” In all honesty, I’d choose it for free.

The last thing I feel like doing is getting into a discussion with someone in the produce aisle who’s on a hair trigger over the fact that I’m wearing a mask. And believe it or not, I felt the possibility of that happening twice this week. I nearly fell over.

No to the Boston

And then another time this week, I saw a person walking across the parking lot I’d just entered with a cute little Boston Terrier on a leash. Well. You can all imagine how I swooned. Ooooh, how this puppy reminded me of Sheila when she was just a girl.

I jumped out of my car, whipped my debit card in and out of the meter to throw some money on it and turned to speak to the Boston and her daddy. “Your Boston is adorable!” I called out with a big smile. “I have two!” (never fully admitting to myself that Sheila is really gone).

Neither of us were wearing masks (we were in the great outdoors), and I asked if I could pet his pup. “Aren’t you concerned with…” he asked, waving his free hand in the air.

I stopped in my tracks. We were a good 20 feet away from each other. “What?” I was genuinely puzzled. Surely he knew I had no intention of getting anywhere near him. I just wanted to say hi to his pup.

“Covid,” he responded. I was taken aback. Honestly, it had never even occurred to me that I wouldn’t be permitted to pet a dog on a 10’ leash. You don’t get Covid from pet fur. Or even from surfaces. You get it from aerosols in the air; hence why it’s wise to wear masks when indoors.

“Oh,” I replied. “Would it bother you…?”

“Yes, it would, as a matter of fact.” Ugh. His tone. It had turned so…icy.

Backed Off

Whoa. OK. Of course I immediately stopped in my tracks (still about 15 feet away from the dog dad and five feet away from the Boston, which had of course had immediately responded to my high pitched hello to it and headed my way). I felt like I’d been smacked.

My reaction was silly, I suppose. But his abrupt attitude took me by such surprise.

It’s hard to know where anyone stands anymore. Or how they will react to many of the circumstances we used to consider mundane.

Makes me just want to hunker down in my own safe place. I haven’t a clue as to how people feel about anything anymore. And the enormity of that almost brought me to tears.

Spartacus in Repose – Photo: L. Weikel

(T-113)

Annual Cicadas – Day 997

Posted on by Lisa Weikel Leave a comment
Annual Cicada – frontal view – Photo: L. Weikel

Annual Cicadas

Have you noticed recently the scratchy, long-lasting, insect-screech coming from the trees? If you stop to think about it and actually pay attention to the sound, you’ll realize it’s completely different than the weird whirring space-ship sound of the 17-year periodical (Brood X, in our neck of the woods) cicadas that emerged in late spring. What you hear are annual circadas.

Indeed, if you pay attention, you’ll not only realize it’s a completely different call than the Brood X cicadas, but you’ll also recognize it as a reliable and comforting sound of summer. In fact, these little buggers who show up reliably every single year when the summer months are at their hottest and muggiest are also appropriately known as dog-day cicadas.

When I was growing up, this was the sound that heralded lazy, hazy days so hot and muggy that the best thing to do was find some shade, secretly snag a couple pillows from the living room, and lose yourself in a good book. A tall glass of iced tea (Nestea instant tea, back in the day) added to the perfection.

Yes, the signal for embarking upon such a literary adventure was the distinct sound of the annual cicadas. They’re shy guys, it seems. They mostly seem to ‘ghost’ us with their light brown shells, left behind when they shed. It’s much more rare to see an annual cicada than the hordes of 17-year cicadas we just enjoyed (or endured, depending upon your perspective).

Annual Cicada – Photo: L. Weikel

Bird Issue Update

All of this talk of cicadas reminds me that there seems to be some connection being drawn by ornithologists connecting the periodical (17-year, Brood X) cicadas with the sclurge that’s been afflicting songbirds.

Luckily, it sounds like that nastiness is starting to abate. The birds that were getting sick and dying seemed to be located within the zones where the Brood X emerged. Was it caused by the birds eating cicadas that were harboring the zombie-creating cicada fungus?

It’s a mystery I think we’re close to cracking!

(T-114)

Lighten Up – Day 996

Posted on by Lisa Weikel Leave a comment

Speaks for Itself – Photo: L. Weikel

Lighten Up

One thing I’ve always been able to count on my sons for is a well-timed poke to lighten up. Of all three, though, Karl was the raw and uncensored (believe me) comedian. He had an impeccable sense of comedic timing that came through for all of us time and again. Sometimes it perked his father or me up or helped his brothers see the absurdity of a situation. Usually he was being irreverent but at the same time scathingly truthful. He had a knack for finding the humor in the weirdest situations.

All of which leads me to a discovery I made this morning.

It could be said that perhaps I’d gotten up on the wrong side of the bed. That’s at least one perspective. The details are unimportant, but capturing the crankiness of the moments leading up to my discovery is essential.

I was foul. That much is indisputable. I looked at the state of the world on my phone and wanted to chuck it across the room. And when I brought my attention to my own little microcosm, I felt equally irritated. Well, maybe not equally, but I was definitely unhappy with a lot of little things all around me.

Cleaning the Catbox

I was actually in the perfect mood to clean out the catbox. In fact, that is an activity I was perfectly suited for in that moment. Sometimes cleaning up another creature’s crap can inspire you to clean up your own. Meh. Maybe. I tell myself that, though. And I do take pleasure out of leaving the litter pristine and ready for Tigger to jump in and re-christen it, which he invariably does within five minutes of it being cleaned out.

This time, though, there was a sign. Ha! A rainbow turdlet.

Pointed Message?

We’ll occasionally find rainbows arcing across our walls – often in intriguing places that almost seem to be aimed onto a specific object like a laser pointer.

I have to admit, though. This was the first time I’d ever found a rainbow in the catbox.

“Mom. Lighten up,” I could almost hear him saying. Just barely. And I had to admit, he’d managed it again. He made me laugh.

(T-115)