28 January 05
Hazard
The Western gray squirrel was hit by a car today.
It might not seem like much. This is often the fate of squirrels.
Yet—
riding home at lunchtime I saw him newly dead and almost wept.
Over 1500 birds were brought in as a result of an oil spill whose source they can still not pinpoint in Southern California. Over 70% of those birds—mostly Western grebes—have died. (For every one bird brought in to the rehab center, 10-100 die at sea.) My colleagues are near exhaustion, working 16 and even 20-hour days for the last two weeks. They are discouraged. I saw two of them today, up for a couple of days then back to the bird work.
And the almond tree outside our front door is getting ready to burst into blossom—if we get some good sunshine this weekend it will happen—but since it’s always so much earlier than all the others, it almost never gets pollinated. It’s like a bride, stood up at the altar.
I try not to get into a place of despair, so well described by Butuki, but it’s hard sometimes.
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In any case, I hope it is at a bearable level; if not, I am here, along with the rest of the blades of grass. (I am somewhat worried about Miguel, and frustrated by being unable to do anything beyond typing comfort.) In the words of some pithy someone somewhere, we’ve got your back.
Peace (and hot cocoa?)
Pica
Technical note: Your western gray squirrel link is going in circles.
I certainly know these sensations, especially in response to careless deaths caused by man. But of course, these particular deaths—squirrels, birds—sadden me only because those beings are similar enough that I can identify with them. Who knows how many plankton died in the oil spill, or how many insects we kill unconsciously in an hour’s, or even an hour’s walk.
And of course, humans also cause overpopulation of certain species—certainly some birds and squirrels. So I have to temper my grieving for Canada geese, for example. I didn’t even mind when Kerry shot one. They are, in a sense, our creations now.
My most optimistic thought about this is that nature’s necessary capacity for destruction still exceeds our own, and that to whatever purpose, Shiva will always dance last.
Your blog is my way of ‘keeping up’ with friends and Davis. Wish I had the energy to participate more.
Im puzzled by your references to the western grey squirrel. I lived in California for so many years yet I thought the grey squirrels were introduced from Europe. Out here on the eastern seabord I learned many years ago that the grey squirrel was introduced from Europe and has been slowly replacing the native squirrels. The natives can be much larger and range in color from red to black. We used to call them ‘boomers’ for some reason but they are very rare now. Apparently the grey squirrels are more efficient scavengers or so they say. I think it has more to do with the natives preferring old mixed forest to live in and those kinds of forests are equally rare now. So…is the story really reversed out west? It’s embarassing to admit how little I learned about California’s natural history while I was there. Set me straight if you can?
End of lecture! Anyone got any sunflower seeds? I’m low on vitamin E.
I think the eastern gray squirrel is the invasive we’re all taking about—it’s the one in England, it’s the one that’s edging out your boomers. It’s adaptable to humans, is its advantage.
Thanks for your words. I’ve woken up this morning to no fog (!) and we’re going to meet my mother in Sonoma, a halfway point for us.
We certainly miss you and Nicole, though and are about to order a North Carolina DeLorme—that’s the fun of living with a geographer, you can’t plan a visit anywhere without a good map.