A Lot of Wildlife

When I was young, there never seemed to be much wildlife in my home state. Aside from gray squirrels and white-tailed deer, wildlife was something that either belonged to the past or to other places with more undisturbed land, such Ontario or Wyoming. I think it's because this area was much more agricultural then, and the activities of agriculture are arranging nature for the benefit of a monoculture, or for a few species.

An environmental news story I heard a lot about growing up was how suburban development was permitting the return of the eastern forest. This is quite evident when you look at pictures taken at end of the nineteenth century and beginning of the twentieth century and compare them with what the landscape looks like now. The old pictures show a lot of space and fields. There were open vistas then that are now obscured by trees and forests. 

The return of the forest has also, it seems, permitted the return of larger animals. Yesterday, I discovered a three-foot long milk snake by the backdoor step. My mom has named him, "Yogurt". This morning, as I went down the road, I was stopped by a middle-aged couple directing traffic around a snapping turtle with a shell that was around one and a half feet in diameter. 

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vernal: Of or relating to spring. The vernal equinox.

unctuous: Physically greasy in appearance, or, interpersonally, smug or ingratiating.

turgid: Distended, swollen. 

Poem to Isis (the goddess)

This beautiful poem was posted on the Goddess Isis Facebook page, which has 17,000(!) followers. If it's not permissible to re-publish it here, I will certainly take it down. It's attributed to A.G. Muilenberg:

In the deep silence before dawn
Only the priestess stirs
Incense swaying behind her
Testament to her silent passage
No thought of self enters here
Only the offering remains
To commune a moment in time with Isis

Herons

If I look out the train window when we pass by the marshes with the tall grasses between Newark and Jersey City, I'm sure to see a perfectly white heron or egret standing at the edge of an area of water. Sometimes I've seen ducks there, as well. 

I also saw what our family thinks is a 'great blue heron' much farther up the train line, as we passed by a brook. 

The railroad slices through the countryside in a different way than the roads do. 

When I was little, there was a bad gypsy moth problem for several years. When you'd go in the woods, it would sound like it was raining lightly, but that was actually a sound related to the gypsy moths (falling excrement?) One year, they sprayed the forested mountain across the road by helicopter. 

When I went to the nature reserve a couple of weeks ago, I heard that same sound. This past weekend, on my walk to the state park, I saw a gypsy moth along the road. Perhaps they're making a comeback of sorts. 

My first instinct was to step on it, as I was taught when I was little. Fortunately, I didn't follow my instinct. 

I don't want that they would destroy the leaves in the forest, but I'm in no position to judge their place and merit in the ecosystem. They are also living beings who need to eat. Destruction of life shouldn't be undertaken lightly. Many of the great religions and philosophies tell us this. 

Bedtime Prayer

Prayer to Pax, Salus, and Concordia, that peace may prevail on earth, that all people may have good health, especially my father and sister, who are suffering from illnesses they don't deserve, and that people may get along with each other between and among countries, among peoples within countries, within companies, within families, and wherever and however people interact with one another. 

Good night, precious world. 

Fourth Amendment

I was arguing on Disqus about the NSA's phone program. In school, I hadn't taken criminal procedure, the class in which they study fourth amendment law. Not having any specific knowledge, I ended up arguing based on sheer principle and what to me is good sense given the real-world circumstances. 

But I do have a book on criminal procedure, and I was looking over the fourth amendment chapter last night--it's much more reasonable, balanced, and holistic than the libertarians would have you believe. The gap between libertarian belief and fourth amendment law isn't as wide as that between the gospels and conservative Christianity, but there is a gap nonetheless. 

I shouldn't give in to the temptation to argue based on sheer principle. Knowledge is power, especially when combined with sensible argumentation. Knowledge means not arguing on your opponent's terms. 

Spring Pictures

One World Trade Center:

My mom's crocuses:

Praiseworthy Minerva with bell ringers in Herald Square:

Barns down the road from me:

I'm told this is a sycamore tree (on my road):

Meditations, Book IV, Section 21

Meditations, Book IV, Section 21 (emphasis mine):

Try also how a good man's life; (of one, who is well pleased with those things whatsoever, which among the common changes and chances of this world fall to his own lot and share; and can live well contented and fully satisfied in the justice of his own proper present action, and in the goodness of his disposition for the future:) will agree with thee. Thou hast had experience of that other kind of life: make now trial of this also. Trouble not thyself any more henceforth, reduce thyself unto perfect simplicity. Doth any man offend? It is against himself that he doth offend: why should it trouble thee? Hath anything happened unto thee? It is well, whatsoever it be, it is that which of all the common chances of the world from the very beginning in the series of all other things that have, or shall happen, was destinated and appointed unto thee. To comprehend all in a few words, our life is short; we must endeavour to gain the present time with best discretion and justice. Use recreation with sobriety.

A Very Sweet Memorial Day

The weather was almost perfect, as it was on Saturday. I got to ride with my father to the urgent care center this morning to get my tetanus shot. Down the road across the bridge, a hawk flew in front of us, with crows in pursuit. In the shady gorge, we saw that large, gray bird again. Both me and my father had seen it on previous occasions. We got out the bird book later and have decided, based on its coloring, its range, and the exclusion of other possibilities, that it was a "Great Blue Heron". 

There were many Memorial Day events in the towns between here and the urgent care center. We kept getting re-routed and having to follow detours. I wished that we could have attended one, but I had to get my shot. 

I made a horrible driving error. I had edged out into an intersection to turn left when a car appeared coming from the right. As I was too far out, I checked that there was no one behind me, and I put it into reverse to pull back a bit. That was fine, but I forgot to put it back into drive. When it was time to go, I stepped on the gas pedal and the truck lurched backward. Luckily, there was still no one behind me. 

Driving can be pretty scary, and I often feel reluctant to drive. I don't want to be the cause of someone's injury or death. 

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After lunch, I went for a long walk down a country lane, all the way to the state park. The wind sounds different between early spring and late spring. It's because of the leaves. After the leaves emerge, the wind has a rushing sound as it moves through the trees that it doesn't have when the branches are bare. 

Along the country lane, there is an old family cemetery with the grave of a Revolutionary War Veteran. There was no flag, as there usually is for veterans; the American Legion seems to have overlooked him. There were buttercups growing in the green grass nearby. I plucked some and gave one to him, and one for his son, as well. There's a grandson, too--a Civil War veteran, if I remember correctly--but the writing on the tombstones has been effaced by time and the elements, and I don't know which grave is his. 

When I reached the park, I descended into the woods, walked on a log across the B____ River, and went up the other side to the park trail. There it is real forest, with a canopy that lets in little sunlight. The forest floor is open. Along the trail, there were happy families. They were at peace, they chatted amicably with one another in many languages (including Chinese) and you could really sense that they enjoyed each other's company. People were lounging on the enormous boulders in the tributary that runs down to the lower river. A small but forceful waterfall spouted out between two of the boulders. Near where a bridge crossed over the upper river, there was a park barbecue installation, and a family were barbecuing something. 

I finally reached the visitor's center, where I bought a bottle of iced tea. Along the country lane on the way back, an elderly gentleman stopped his car to say hello. We both agreed the weather was glorious, a true gift.

My father finished fixing the running board on the truck, plowed more of the garden, and planted beans. My mother is hard at work cleaning out the attic. 

At dinner, I read Eisenhower's Proclamation 3016 before we started eating. My mom made hot dogs, potato salad, baked beans, and sauerkraut. It was positively delicious!  

I will pray to my patron deity before going to bed this evening. I wish happiness and good health to all living things. 

Proclamation 3016 - Prayer for Peace, Memorial Day, 1953

Whereas the bodies of our war dead lie buried in hallowed plots throughout the land, and it has long been our custom to decorate their graves on Memorial Day in token of our respect for them as beloved friends and kinsmen and of our aspiration that war may be removed from the earth forever; and

Whereas it is fitting that, while remembering the sacrifices of our countrymen, we join in united prayers to Almighty God for peace on earth; and

Whereas the Congress, in a joint resolution approved May 11, 1950, provided that Memorial Day should thenceforth be set aside nationally as a day of prayer for permanent peace and requested that the President issue a proclamation calling upon the people of the United States to observe each Memorial Day in that manner:

Now, Therefore, I, Dwight D. Eisenhower, President of the United States of America, do hereby proclaim Memorial Day, Saturday, May 30, 1953, as a day of prayer for permanent peace, and I designate the hour beginning at eleven o'clock in the morning of that day, Eastern Daylight Saving Time, as a period in which all the people of the Nation, each according to his religious faith, may unite in solemn prayer.

Let us make that day one of twofold dedication. Let us reverently honor those who have fallen in war, and rededicate ourselves through prayer to the cause of peace, to the end that the day may come when we shall never have another war—never another Unknown Soldier.

In Witness Whereof, I have hereunto set my hand and caused the Seal of the United States of America to be affixed.

DONE at the City of Washington this twenty-first day of May in the year of our Lord nineteen hundred and fifty-three, and of the Independence of the United States of America the one hundred and seventy-seventh.

May 24, 2015

I went to a Unitarian Universalist Church today. I took the train, or rather the bus that runs along the train line, due to repairs on the wiring that follows the train tracks overhead. The interior was immaculate, painted and neat; a wood frame building with neo-classical features such as columns. There were pictures on the wall of John Adams, John Quincy Adams, and Barack Obama. All three were raised Unitarian. The minister said that the church's peace-orientation in the past had caused it not to be as understanding as it might have been toward members of the military. It being Memorial Day weekend, the service was therefore about appreciating servicemen & women. We sang America the Beautiful, there was a video in which a UU Navy chaplain talked about her experiences, and servicemembers present were asked to stand to be recognized and were given applause. There was an insightful quote from Lao Tzu that was read about peace, hymns were sung, and somewhere I saw a specific reference to the church welcoming transgender people. 

The church is in a town that I pass through on the way to New York. It has the most charming downtown area. You walk around and you think, oh, I wish I lived here! There's a historic diner made from a train car, several coffee shops, the most perfect homes with manicured landscaping, a very nice park with a big lawn by the train station--this has got new metal benches painted a glossy black. Some are in the shade at noon. At an artisan bagel shop, I got a luscious, scrumptious, mouth-watering 'everything' bagel--poppy seeds, sesame seeds, garlic--with vegetable-flavored cream cheese. It was a contender for most delicious thing I've eaten since coming back to America. I ate it in the shade on one of the glossy black benches, with the smell of grass in the air. 

After coming back home, I removed the wire fence roof (that I had built) that served as a protective cover for the outdoor pen of the chicken coop. The chickens are long gone; new chickens have not replaced them. There's nothing there now that needs protecting from hawks, weasels, and racoons. It had all become rusty.  I was careful, slow and methodical, but inevitably, I got poked by one of the wires I cut. I can't remember my last tetanus shot. Tomorrow, I'm supposed to go get one. 

I won't put my bedtime prayer on here. It's not for other people to see. Though I will say that I wish happiness and good health to all living things. 

My Father

Salus, whom our ancestors worshipped and praised, if it is in your power to grant my request, I pray that you heal my father's legs, that he may walk well again, that he may do all the things he likes without so much hindrance and difficulty, that he may not suffer the way he is now.

Manhattan

I tried to go into the Marble Collegiate Church because my mother has always been a fan of Norman Vincent Peale. However, it was closed.

There was a shower, and to avoid getting wet, I stopped under the stoop of a building which turned out to have a plaque that read that it was the Greenwich Village residence of Eleanor Roosevelt in the 1940s. 

An unshaven Buddhist monk--or a man dressed as one--tried to hand me something, something gold colored, which I didn't realize till I had replayed it in my mind a moment later. I thought he was asking for alms, and I was already into the motion of fishing for some change when I realized that I had had a misperception. 

A Hare Krishna wanted me to have a pamphlet. 

Around Union Square, I was accosted by Planned Parenthood people, Greenpeace people, a children's charity, and one other nonprofit I can't remember the name of. 

In Greenwich Village, I stopped in a bookstore whose name was "Unoppressive Non-Imperialist Bargain Books". There were books about Bob Dylan and left wing politics; classic rock was playing. 

I saw the Blue Note, which I've dreamed about visiting. It looks different than I imagined.

I like The Strand bookstore. The books are okay--I got two. What's really special is the camaraderie you can sense among the staff. They have fun!

Herald Square

I have to walk past Herald Square on my way to work. Today, I stopped in and looked around. At the north end, serendipity! A gorgeous statue of Minerva! According to the inscription, the statue--and the clock attached to it--originally sat atop of the New York Herald building, the legendary nineteenth century New York newspaper, for which "Herald Square" is named, but through this and that turn of events, ended up in the hands of the parks department.

After I came home, I listened to several versions of "Give My Regards to Broadway", the song from George M. Cohan's 1904 musical, Little Johnny Jones, that contains the line, "Remember me to Herald Square". 

It gives you chills--not because I'm a New Yorker--I'm not. But because we had to learn and sing this song in elementary school, and so, by way a different route, I have nostalgia and a feeling of connection. 

Stick here on the pier, and watch for the sky rocket! 

Penn Station

A man was standing outside of Penn Station this evening with a sign that said, "Accept Jesus". It's not easy standing in front of a moving crowd with a huge sign, whatever your cause, so, in order that he not feel too alone, I edged over in the flow of people, such that I would go directly past him, and when I got nearby, gave him a sincere greeting and a sincere smile. 

May 17, 2015

I walked through Tribeca* yesterday, and today I might get to go for a little hike on a mountain near here. Yesterday evening I got to observe the financial district in lower Manhattan from Hoboken--specifically, the evening view, or the dusk view, which I hadn't seen since prior to September 11th. The Liberty tower was aglow with an array of lights from its windows. 

I feel thankful for the opportunity to experience such fascinating landscapes--natural and urban.

I went to a Barnes & Noble near the World Trade Center, and I saw two books I really wanted to buy: one on how to draw nature scenes, and the other on how to draw city scenes. I couldn't buy them because it would have been irresponsible to spend money that way; maybe I could learn using information that's available on the internet?

All of humanity is similarly situated vis-a-vis the great existential questions, so I pray that all people may have a happy, healthy life in which they can reach their full potential. 

*I learned that "Tribeca" means "Triangle below Canal Street". 

Beautiful Song

Heartbreakingly beautiful song.

Sunday Hiking

I went for a hike on a small mountain near here. It used to be the national headquarters of an outdoors-related organization, but they moved to another state a couple of decades ago. Now it's held as a non-governmental nature reserve. 

It was a great, though short, hike. I only had time for one of the trails, although all the trails are not particularly long. Still, the mountain is not exactly small. You could look down from the nature center several hundred feet through the trees toward a large lake. 

Along the trail, I heard the sound of woodpeckers and raccoons from deeper in forest. There were large ferns, blossoms, and young, new leaves. The air throbbed with the scent of vegetation and blossoms. When I descended the trail along the far side, reached the road, and was standing along the railing of an iron bridge, looking upstream, a large greenish gray bird--a heron?--flew out from under the bridge and up the tunnel made by the tree branches arching over the water. 

On the way back, you pass through a broad valley, much broader and sunnier than the one in which I saw a heron. This valley is one or two miles wide, depending on from where you measure. You could look across the broad sweep of the valley; the trees along the far ridge seemed mystically large. There was summer mist in the air, premature perhaps, the kind you usually see on July or August afternoons. 

I felt grateful to be alive, to be in this place, to be able to go to New York City, for my family, for one beautiful day in this life. I prayed a prayer of thanksgiving.

The Stonewall Inn

I went to the Stonewall for the first time in my life and had an orange juice. Christopher Street is positively lovely. It's cozy. It's narrow, lined with leafy trees, and the buildings are brick. Brick with ironwork. Iron railings. Iron fences. Nothing too ornate. Just a little bit of flavor. 

The bartender at the Stonewall made a New Jersey joke. It was fun, and it made me happy. I played along. 

May 7, 2015

Paraphrase of the Epictetus I read today: The gods are real and you should imitate their purity.

Meditations, Book IV, Section 20

Meditations, Book IV, Section 20:

Occupy thyself with few things, says the philosopher, if thou wouldst be tranquil. But consider if it would not be better to say, Do what is necessary, and whatever the reason of the animal which is naturally social requires, and as it requires. For this brings not only the tranquility which comes from doing well, but also that which comes from doing few things. For the greatest part of what we say and do being unnecessary, if a man takes this away, he will have more leisure and less uneasiness. Accordingly on every occasion a man should ask himself, Is this one of the unnecessary things? Now a man should take away not only unnecessary acts, but also, unnecessary thoughts, for thus superfluous acts will not follow after.

May 3, 2015

1. Meditations, Book IV, Sections 18, 19:

Do not be whirled about, but in every movement have respect to justice, and on the occasion of every impression maintain the faculty of comprehension or understanding.

Everything harmonizes with me, which is harmonious to thee, O Universe. Nothing for me is too early nor too late, which is in due time for thee. Everything is fruit to me which thy seasons bring, O Nature: from thee are all things, in thee are all things, to thee all things return. The poet says, Dear city of Cecrops; and wilt not thou say, Dear city of Zeus?

2.  I looked at the moon through binoculars after coming back from a walk after dinner. It was completely gorgeous. I saw the Sea of Tranquility, the Sea of Serenity, and several others I forget the names of. I had to look at a map, of course, to see which ones were which. It would be nice to remember them, and having their names in your head, to feel a sense of familiarity when you look at them from time to time, your old friends on the moon.

3. Christianity is the only game in town, so I went to church today. There was beautiful song by Mozart called Laudate Dominum. I think this means "praise god", with "laudate" being the verb "to praise" in the imperative, and "dominum" being the Latin word for god in the accusative case.

4. I made little bouquets of dandelions for my parents. 

May 2, 2015

My lovely father took me to the DMV, so I could start getting my license back that I let expire while I was abroad. I actually drove today, for the first time in 13(?) years. It was mostly natural, but not completely! What a thing, moving a large object at high speeds (40 m.p.h.) across landscapes. 

I worked on my parents' patio. It's made of bricks. My father built it in the 1980s. There were places where a layer of moss and dirt had covered parts of the bricks. There were also weeds growing up between them. I scraped off the moss and dirt with a flat piece of wood and pulled the weeds, as much as I could, though they tended to break off instead of coming out by the root. Then I swept it all up and edged the grass and brick border with a flat metal tool. I think it looks all right!? Yard work is lovely in so many ways: the connection to nature, the calmness and simplicity involved, the smell of earth and vegetation, and the sense of artistic satisfaction at the end when you survey your completed project.