Clawing back to equilibrium

I've made no secret of the fact that the past several months have been rough for me. Although I don't talk about it much (it's not our way, after all, in my family), those closest to me know just how rough.

With my Dad's death, it was like something fundamental changed for me and in me. I've always been one to find the joy in little things, and I was dismayed to find that I had lost that. I honestly didn't know if it was gone for good, or if it was just taking a hiatus. I'd lost my joy. This was especially hard for me to process, because one of the very best things I got from Dad was the ability to find the joy in little things. In losing Dad, did I lose that, too? That would be almost unbearable.

It's taken me a while, but I'm happy to report that I am slowly but surely making my way back to that point. I find myself looking around with an eye and an attitude more like the one I used to have. Maybe it's knowing that summer is over, so I'm more inclined to enjoy the last of the warm weather. That's part of it, anyway. I find that I'm more connected to my surroundings.

The hummingbirds are still here, but only the females. The males leave first, so it's just us girls right now. The females are very active at the feeders, and I'm certain that I see their tiny bodies plumping up a bit for their long flight south. I made the nectar extra sweet this time of year so that they can bulk up.

The deer are starting to spend a lot of time in the back yard; the three fawns that I saw this summer have lost their spots. One fawn had a bum leg the other day, and I could see a bloody wound on its shoulder. I don't know if it made it. I hope so.

The raccoons are still coming up on the deck, but not nearly as much. They like to leave me "presents," but a spray is helping to deter them from that. However, when I walked out the door to get the mail this morning, one had left a lovely deposit for me on the steps. As I scraped it off with a stick, I believe I said, "Oh, you little bastard." But I laughed a bit, too...at this point, I think they're just messing with me.

The little guy I call Piney Squirrel has been coming up on the deck a lot. He makes me laugh. He's like a miniature squirrel on speed.

The chipmunks I call Chip and Dale have also been coming up on the deck, and I've seen them come right up to the screen and put their little hands (paws?) on it, looking in. They live under the steps where the raccoon took a shit, and when I walk out to the mailbox, I look for acorns to leave for them on the steps. It's fun to see the acorns vanish. :)

I was getting ready to hop in the shower yesterday, and the power went out. After several cell calls to the power company, I found out that there had been a car accident that took out a utility pole. Several components needed to be replaced, including the pole itself, and the result was that I spent over seven hours without power. That was seven hours to read, and I enjoyed getting caught up. I finished my book club book, Kim by Rudyard Kipling. Thank goodness, because it was a struggle to get through that one. I was not engaged at all. Then I went through a couple of issues of Time, although I didn't read every article. Then I read a bit in a mini-encyclopedia about American history, specifically the early explorers. Next I started on True Compass, Ted Kennedy's autobiography. I'm really enjoying it so far (I'm about 90 pages into it). I was really struck by something he wrote in the prologue, when he was talking about finding out that he had a brain tumor. He wrote, "I respect the seriousness of death—I’ve had many occasions to meditate on its intrusions." You certainly did, Senator. That kind of choked me up.

Anyway, it was nice to sit quietly for several hours (although I would definitely have preferred to have power) and just enjoy my reading. In general, I'm in a more peaceful place. I still have moments of unreasoning and unreasonable anger. For example, apparently the pastor at Mom and Dad's church mentioned in a service what the church did with some of the money contributed in Dad's name. My initial, furious thought was, "Gee, that's great about your new communion service, but all in all, I'd prefer to still have my Dad here." Illogical and unfair? Probably. I don't care. I have a shorter temper than I used to, with little to no patience for fools. I don't let it out very often, though. I'm starting to do better with being around people. I'm pretty insular, anyway, but I had a hard time being around most people, laughing and having fun. I knew I'd get that back—I like to laugh too much to have it be gone forever!

Mostly I'm just trying to find my Happy Place™, and I think I'm starting to get back there. One of the things that I got from Dad—and I even spoke about this at his funeral service—was a love of nature. We talked about it often, and I know he was pleased to share that with me. I suppose it's only fitting that that is one of the main things that is bringing me back.

Letting nature take its course

This looks so much like Sheeba, but it isn’t! Just some random Intarwebz cat chowing down on a bird.

I love living out in the country, but it does have its drawbacks, and there are some things that are hard to deal with. I've been snowed in during winter storms; the recent bad storms have taken their toll on several trees, although there were plenty of people in the area who had it much worse; and worst of all at times, for me, is seeing the inevitable cycle of nature. As Stewart Copeland wrote in his song "Serengeti Long Walk" from "The Rhythmatist:"

All around there are creatures as big as donkeys, eating and being eaten; it's a barnyard sound. The cycle of life and death is repeated--endlessly--undisturbed by the contaminated curiosity of humans. But there is a pattern there to see, and the point will soon be clear to me.

There have been many nights when I've heard the screams of something being grabbed and eaten. It's chilling, and my heart aches for whatever creature has just met its demise. The occasional dead squirrel shows up, and I've seen dead or dying raccoons out in the yard. Birds fly into the windows, and sometimes don't survive. I've watched as a raccoon has hung from its front paws from the deck and dropped several feet to the ground. There are a couple of does with bum legs that are return visitors to the yard, and it breaks my heart every time I see them. (Although the one with the bum foreleg is still going strong. She's been around for several years now, and I love it that she is such a survivor!) There have been bones and mauled carcasses found out in the marsh of fawns who fell prey to predators.

There have been so many times when I was tempted to intervene when I could. It's been a hard lesson for me to learn to stay out of nature's way. Nature has business to do, and part of that is living and part of it is dying. There are coyotes and foxes here...I've seen them loping across the yard. I've had people suggest that I shoot them. Not a chance. I understand the reasoning behind the suggestion; for anyone who has grown up on a farm, coyotes and foxes (and back in the day, cougars and bobcats...I'm not sure if wolves and bears were ever in this area, but it wouldn't surprise me) had to be shot to protect the farm animals, so it's an immediate reaction to such predators. I don't live on a farm. I understand that there is natural predation that needs to happen, and I'm glad that there is a fairly intact ecosystem here with predators like coyotes and foxes that keep check on other animals. As much as I love deer, I understand that they will devastate an ecosystem if they are allowed to breed unchecked. I don't hunt, and there is no hunting at Nutwood, but I understand that hunters help keep the deer population under control. Things seem to be pretty good here, with a little band of fairly healthy deer, and a fair amount of predators to keep things balanced. (There are also quite a few hawks and owls, and if I'm not mistaken, skunks will also eat small critters. Just checked...yes, they are omivorous.)

As hard as it is for me to not intervene, I understand that the best thing I can do is just stay the fuck out of the way. There are people who rehabilitate animals and are good at it--they usually have some sort of background in veterinary science, or have people close by to advise and help. (I'm thinking of my friend Lori and her family, who have taken in all kinds of critters and nursed them to a healthy adulthood. Her daughter seems to have a real knack for it.) If you don't have that knack, chances are good that you're just going to prolong the animal's agony. As hard as it is to accept, sometimes you have to understand the bigger picture and let things eat or be eaten.

If that sounds hard-hearted, you don't know me very well. I still think back to some fifteen years ago when I lived in Indianapolis and hit a cat on my way home from work one night; or when I hit a squirrel a few years ago when I was driving home in the rain; and I still remember when a tufted titmouse ran into the window and sat on the deck railing stunned, his poor little eye puffing up. I so wanted to reach out to that young raccoon I mentioned earlier hanging from the deck and help him up...but I reminded myself that these are still wild animals, and our intervention does not necessarily help. In fact, sometimes it hurts, or prolongs the inevitable.

I'm not trained in rehabilitation of wild animals, and I'm smart enough to recognize my limitations. I also don't want to create a Pet Sematary out back, because we all know how that ends up! Nature is sometimes a cruel and dirty business, and it's generally better if we just accept that and step out of the way. It's been a hard lesson to learn, but I've learned it. That doesn't mean I don't feel bad when I see something hurting or in distress. Quite the opposite. I just have a healthy respect for the natural order of things, and am inclined to let happen what happens in any sort of natural environment. You might say that I don't like to play God. [wink]

Enjoy a little Stewart Copeland (you'll find short samples of several songs there) and here is a video for you. With "The Rhythmatist," he traveled to Africa and explored various tribal rhythms as well as the amazing wildlife and environment there. It's one of my favorites.