you think caution is dumb hype./
Should you kick them out?
Backstory: My friend Erin Harold, who is struggling (but winning) against the Covid-19 Coronavirus, posted a sunset photo from her Seattle home, with one word: “Grateful”.
This haiku honors her gratitude. (This sunset photo is out my plane window flying over Vashon Island into Seattle, November 2019)
We are so busy/
hearing others talk that we/
don’t communicate.
The ditch which Jack dug/
for a green house long ago,/
is getting cleaned out.
Why
don’t I
write
more often?
I was writing
daily,
often hourly.
At times,
my fingers flew
across the keyboard,
as I had much to say
and never enough time
to say what was needed.
What happened?
Why did I stop?
Was it fear?
Was it concern?
Was it worry
about exposing myself
and what that looked like?
If I don’t say anything,
then nobody can accuse me
of being
or sounding like
a fool.
It’s safe here
in my hidden hideaway,
my harbor,
nestled
next to
giant oceanliners.
But being
in the harbor
is not
what ships
are designed
to do.
Neither am I
destined to be still
or silent
or quiet.
I have words to write,
right?
Right words
to proclaim.
If I don’t
speak up,
then I will be
left out,
and will
have wasted
my talents
and abilities.
Those
who could have been helped
by me,
must instead
find their own path,
listened to other voices.
I hope they are as kind as I would have been
It came upon
a late evening, clear.
As she rolled over,
not connected,
and I tried
(in vain)
to reconnect
(even though she was
late-night medicine
falling asleep),
she mumbled:
“Did you ever notice:
You try to help others
with their problems?”
A truer social media observation
was never made.
Facebook philanthropy
is alive and well.
How easy it is
to fix,
chastise,
or praise others
from afar,
when we have
our own issues
to deal with
right where we are?
Why do we solve for others?
Because it’s easy.
Because it’s quick.
Because it makes us feel
good about ourselves
and what we can do.
Because it’s fairly risk free.
Because IF they talk back,
we can ignore them.
Because we have
no responsibility
if our advice
or our helping
is terrible.
But if I have to answer
my children,
my spouse,
my parents,
my relatives,
my friends,
my neighbors,
face-to-face,
or through a phone call,
or in real time,
that’s risky!
They might not like
what I have to say.
They might get angry.
They might get frustrated.
They might lash out at me.
It might not go well.
Then again,
of course,
it might go fantastically.
And wouldn’t that be worth
all the risk
that there could be?
Originally as a Facebook post in the Pollinator Friendly Yards Facebook group, Oct. 12, 2019
I hope what I say here gives people hope. In August, 2017, I moved into a home on over 6 acres near the Chickamauga Battlefield in Northwest Georgia. I was stunned at the LACK of birds, butterflies, bees, dragonflies and other pollinators. The property was surrounded by fields and woods, including the 5600 acre Chickamauga national military park, so I couldn’t quite figure out why there was such a silent autumn.
Turns out I was also surrounded by a sod farm. Nice people, but they do A LOT of spraying. A one-time beekeeper near me said “I stopped trying to keep hives because they’d all die after the fields near here were sprayed.”
Nevertheless, I did what I could in my own hilltop yard. I let the lawn go wild, I ripped up some of it, I didn’t cut down the crownbeard and other wildflowers as the bank / real estate company had, I trimmed the invasive privet back and created huge brushpiles. I planted mints, wildflowers, an organic garden. I dug up a square here, a round spot there, and planted native wildflowers. Not all at once, just a little at a time. I convinced my wife that it was okay to rip up the lawn and let it grow wild, and to not mow every other week like the neighbors do. You get the idea. (My wife was surprised when all the poppies sprung up in our yard, as some photo shows.)
Two years later my property has TONS of birds of all shapes and sizes. Hummingbirds buzz around constantly, coming right up to us as we sit on our front porch. The frogs are croaking and singing like crazy. I’m seeing A LOT of butterflies and moths, there have been several types of dragonflies, AND probably 3-4 different types of wasps. I haven’t seen many bees around (but I have seen some!) so I still have hope. And someone reminded me: From May to August more and more fireflies flicker every evening … probably 90% more than when I first moved here.
My point is that nature is resilient. It only takes a little work, a spot here, a point there, and the birds and bugs will notice the welcome mat you’re throwing out for them, and come flocking and swarming to your yard!
I appreciate the Pollinator Friendly Yards Facebook group — y’all inspire me! (As requested, I added more photos) — the one with the house is a field of white crownbeard — can you spot the orange butterfly?) — feeling inspired at Chickamauga & Chattanooga National Military Park.
We all take steps.
When you doubt yourself,/
you think you’re not loveable./
What if she doesn’t?