NorthStarNature

Appreciating the Beauty and Wisdom of Nature

You are here: Home / 2018 / Archives for March 2018

Archives for March 2018

There is a Reason for Everything–NOT Everything Happens for a Reason

by 2 Comments

I like things to make sense.  When things don’t make sense in my mind, I ask questions—of myself and others.  Information helps a person make sense of a situation.  There have been a lot of things happening that don’t make any sense—why would a young person plan and carry out a school shooting or multiple bombings?  Finding a motive or reason for such action is paramount to the investigation.  Information is gathered from multiple sources, in multiple ways in order to figure it out.  Many times though, the answer to the question of why a person acted as they did is never fully known.

Science also asks questions in order to find answers—it is the foundation of the scientific method.  Information is gathered, past research is perused, a pertinent hypothesis formulated, the methodology carefully planned out and followed to exactitude.  Did the results confirm the hypothesis?  What conclusions were learned from the experiment?  Questions, answers, more questions.  And so it goes.

Questions about Nature have been studied by science for hundreds of years, and today the questions are just as important as ever.  Why is the Monarch butterfly population in decline?  https://www.annualreviews.org/doi/abs/10.1146/annurev-ento-020117-043241 http://www.eeb.cornell.edu/agrawal/documents/InamineetalAgrawal2016Oikosmonarchconservation_000.pdf

Is our water safe?  https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC1253773/

https://www.mprnews.org/story/2016/07/13/minnesota-adds-pollution-sources-impaired-waters-list

What is killing our bee populations, and what is the impact on agriculture?  https://www.uky.edu/~jast239/reprints/Geography%20Compass%202016.pdf    http://mjpa.umich.edu/files/2014/08/2014-BiancoCooperFournier-HoneyBee.pdf

What happens when forests are clear-cut?  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Un2yBgIAxYs  https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2016/04/160415125925.htm

 

Scientific experiments seek to answer these complicated questions.  Seldom is there a singular cut-and-dry reason; seldom is the answer an easy one.  Mostly, answers lead to more questions.  But each answer, each piece of information that is discovered about the situation, adds to the body of knowledge.  It is a contribution to the big picture, and each piece shows a pathway to action that can be taken to solve the problem.

As for the things that don’t make sense in this world or in our lives, the same applies.  Rarely is there just one reason; rarely is the reason a simple explanation.  However, I hypothesize that there is always a reason for everything—not in the insensitive platitude ‘everything happens for a reason’ kind of way, but in the scientific ’cause and effect’ way.  There was a reason why they gathered the guns and made the bombs, there was a reason they felt like this was an appropriate thing to do, there was a reason their thinking was so clouded and deluded, and there was a reason they fell through the cracks.  As with everything, there is a long, complicated lineage of reasons why things occur.  Answers lead to more questions.  But information leads to understanding—that’s why questions are so important.  That’s why multiple sources are important.  That’s why experts are important.  All help to configure the big picture, so we can take multiple pathways to solve these heart-breaking problems.

 

A Slow Slide and Adversity

by Leave a Comment

“If we had no winter, the spring would not be so pleasant; if we did not sometimes taste adversity, prosperity would not be so welcome.”   –Anne Bradstreet

I knew my third pregnancy would be my last, and I was intentional in being present and grateful for the miracle of growing and carrying a new human being.  I really liked being pregnant and had had easy pregnancies before.  That was about to change!  Morning sickness was my constant companion for most of the way through two trimesters, and I spent more than my share of time on the couch and in the bathroom.  Saltine crackers were my friends, and the smell of tuna and the act of brushing my teeth were my enemies.  Yet every day, I was grateful.  As my abdomen grew large, time was slow and sweet as I welcomed each and every thing with my newest babe.

We have had a cold winter—not as snowy as most, but very cold.  Spring officially arrives on Tuesday, and I find myself being present and grateful for the chilly, icy mornings along with the sunny, above-freezing days.  I am not wishing Winter away.  The snow melt reveals the winter’s pile of sunflower seed shells under the bird feeder where every kind of creature, bird and mammal alike, have rummaged for the high-fat black oil seeds that slipped through the cracks.

The snow melts in the strong sunshine during the day and hardens into crusty, compacted crystals during the freezing nights.  The power of the sun is evident after a winter of low-in-the-sky traveling—snowbanks recede even when the temperature is below freezing.

Lavender is still stuck in the snow; leaves and sticks in the yard absorb the warmth and melt the ice and snow around them.

The wonder of Spring is beginning to reveal itself with Birch and Hazelnut catkins and swollen Maple tree buds.

Melted snow pooled into a small stream-bed of rocks—liquid by day, ice by night.

Geese, Trumpeter Swans, and even some Sandhill Cranes have taken flight through the blue skies, announcing their presence with their distinctive songs.

The pair of pairs of Eagles are at their nests—time will reveal whether each have viable eggs.  The oldest pair was not brooding on the nest, but one was sitting on a branch when we came by.  One of the younger Eagles at the other nest was keeping eggs warm.

Saturday’s surprise was the spotting of two Robins!  Iconic signs of Spring.  I wonder if they were confused by the snow still in the yard!

 

I like how we slide slowly out of Winter into Spring.  Longer days and melting snow remind us how far from the Winter Solstice we are—we’ve made it through another season of cold and snow!  While the dormancy of Winter is important for gathering nutrients and resting the system, it also makes Spring and Summer that much sweeter!  The mindful morning sickness I felt in my last pregnancy was, in essence, getting me ready for the adversity and long recovery after the birth.  What does adversity reveal to us?  It reveals our strengths and endurance.  It shows our weaknesses, and the places we are stuck.  It magnifies the cracks in the system that we’ve slipped through.  Adversity allows us to learn our own distinctive song of ourselves and how to sing it.  It teaches us to absorb the warmth and power of Love that melts away the obstacles that have been holding us back.  Because of this, I do not wish Winter or adversity away anymore, but I sure do welcome Spring and the good fortune that lay on the other side.

Dodging Cars and Bullets

by 2 Comments

Have you ever woken in the morning and even before you open your eyes or move from your last position of sleep you feel weight pressing in on your mind and body?  That’s how I woke on Friday.  Sometimes it’s a low barometric pressure squeezing in on me; sometimes it’s from the energy-draining not-enough-sleep for a couple of nights; other times it’s a worry, a fight, or an anniversary of something only your body remembers that your mind does not want to recall.  It’s when you drag your body out of bed and hope that breakfast and caffeine will boost your energy and dissipate the pressure.

Do animals ever feel that way?  How do deer wake and show up for their day?  They sleep in the snow and cold, have to forage for their daily food, and at times have to dodge cars and bullets.  Sounds like a recipe for having a horrible, no good, very bad day.  But I don’t think they do.

I think I could turn and live with animals, they are so placid and self-contain’d.  I stand and look at them long and long.  They do not sweat and whine about their condition.  They do not lie awake in the dark and weep for their sins.  They do not make me sick discussing their duty to God.  Not one is dissatisfied, not one is demented with the mania of owning things.  Not one kneels to another, nor to his kind that lived thousands of years ago.  Not one is respectable or unhappy over the whole earth.  –excerpt from Song of Myself by Walt Whitman

When I was young, I thought animals were easier to understand than humans, so I wanted to be a veterinarian.  I loved this poem by Walt Whitman, even in its irreverent way.  I argued with Walt’s line that ‘not one is respectable,’ for I had great respect for animals, especially my horses.  Before we were married, Chris made me a present of a framed picture of this poem in calligraphy with a drawing of a horse.  I recite the first lines often in my head when I feel the pressure of living in our human world.   

Chris, in his wisdom of knowing me for thirty-eight years, suggested on Friday that we go to the pine forest in the snow, to where the animals live, to where I could get out of my head and out of my funk, to where the old pines whisper their secrets.  I begrudgingly agreed, even as my body wanted to just splay itself on the floor with a blanket.  So in the late afternoon, we drove the short distance to Warner Lake County Park to bathe in the solitude of the pine forest.

The little creek that runs into the lake wasn’t frozen, and the trail had been ‘groomed’ for cross-country skiing.

Walking was relatively easy on the groomed trail (not on the ski tracks, of course), but hard work in the short areas where we blazed a trail.  Energy returned to my body as we ventured deeper into the woods.

The forest was a constellation of light and shadow, with outlines and crowns of snow.

The late day sun cast long shadows of the long trees.  Animal tracks cut across the trails—their footprints leaving the history of their day.

In a small clearing, we saw a shining young pine, enveloped and radiant in the Winter sunshine, as the old, wise guardians surrounded it.

It was peaceful and quiet in the snowy forest—a silky balm for my out-of-sorts mind and body.  I was a welcome visitor in the animals’ house, with no host needed.  They were willing to share their majestic home with seekers of beauty and peace.

 

Our lives are a constellation of light and shadow.  Some days we live in the darkness, and often we don’t even know what is casting the shadow.  It feels like we are dodging the flu, or the axe, or the bullet.  The recipe is written, and it seems to spell disaster.  But what if the recipe for your day is written in pencil?  What if sitting in prayer or meditation erases worry?  What if ten minutes of exercise erases pain?  And talking to your friend takes away the blues?  We are each a shining star, like the radiant young pine tree in the forest.  Dissatisfaction melts away to gratitude.  The mania of owning things morphs into a willingness to share.  Anxiety and worry transform into placid self-containment.  The whispered secrets of the ancient guardians begin to work their way into the tracks of our days.  And we live like the animals and are happy.

Snow, Ice, and Water–These Three are One

by 6 Comments

“Water, in all its forms, is what carries the knowledge of life throughout the universe.”     –Anthony T. Hincks

When a person lives where water is always liquid and falling as rain or flowing like a river, I think there is a tendency to not think about it much, to perhaps take it for granted.  But when something is ‘too much’ or ‘not enough’—flooding or drought—or something unusual or rare—snow in Texas—we tend to pay attention.  We haven’t had much snow here in Central Minnesota for most of this winter—until the week before last, that is, when we had over a foot of it.  I looked out the front door at the big pile of white stuff and thought, “Isn’t snow funny and amazing and beautiful?”  I mean, it’s just water, frozen water!  Beautiful crystals of frozen water falling from the sky!  Frozen water that is shoveled and piled, rolled and patted into balls to form snowmen and forts by kids at recess.  Amazing!

  “There is a beauty about winter that no other season can touch.”  –Hailey DeRoo Haugen

“Kindness is like snow—It beautifies everything it covers.”  –Kahlil Gibran

Another beautiful frozen water phenomenon is frost—frozen water vapor on the surface of objects.

Sun-warmed and melted snow dripped and re-froze into icicles—Mother Nature’s decorating of the evergreen Spruce trees.

“Snow is water, and ice is water, and water is water; these three are one.”  –Joseph Dare

And then there’s ice.  Ice that’s strong enough to drive a truck on.  Ice that captures and immobilizes tree branches, leaves, aquatic plants and roots.  Ice that holds a village of ice shacks and fishermen.

“The water hears and understands.  The ice does not forgive.”  –Leigh Bardugo

Ice as art.  Ice as frozen Rorschach tests.  What do you see?

“You’re gonna catch a cold from the ice inside your soul.”  –Christina Perri

 

If water, in all its forms, carries the knowledge of life, we have a lot to learn in Winter.  I respect the idea that winter, in all its starkness, can radiate a beauty like no other.  I love the idea of beautifying the world with kindness.  I like how water and situations and people can be transformed, change states, be honed in the process of warming, melting, and re-freezing to flowing, understanding, and forgiving.  Goodness and Grace can thaw an icy soul.  I also honor the toughness of ice, how it builds up inch by inch during the harshness of Winter’s cold in order to support the things we drive and those that drive us.  How it supports a village of people who want the same basic things in life, in spite of how the harshness can capture and immobilize us at times.  I appreciate that frozen water (oh, the chemistry and physics of it all!) is art.  How we can stare into the depths of it or notice the light or marvel at the structure, and at the same time, learn something about ourselves.  There is a great deal of hope in every snowflake that falls, in every frost pattern that forms, in every layer of ice that is laid down, and in every process of melting.  Life is funny, amazing, and beautiful—all three in one.