The Mosque

All this hate I see in the protesters against the mosque being built "600 feet from ground zero" worries me. Heck, even George W told us we are not at war with Islam. It seems though, that no one who is against the construction really believes that. They've managed to lump every person of Muslim faith into a potential terrorist.

The loss of our liberties is especially worrisome. The first amendment says in part "Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof". If we don't abide by that, what's next?....

• No freedom of speech? There goes all the blogs and most of the internet.
  
• No right to bear arms? Our rights are not just for the far left, ACLU-loving tree huggers, they affect the far right too.
  
• Do we get to choose where a synagogue or temple or Mormon church can be built?
• Should we not allow black people, or people from Louisiana, for example, to vote?

We can not allow an act of terrorism to erode our liberties. If we do, then (and I dearly hate this phrase), the terrorists have "won".

Gramma's Creek

When I was a young boy
Down at my Gramma's creek
Laying under the willows
Listening to the water speak
Catch me a snake
And a tadpole or two
Gonna' climb that big oak tree
Right up to the blue.

With my brother and my cousins
Down at the creek
We swore we were Indians
Man, you should have seen us sneak
We knew every pool, every turn, every log
And right over there was the skull of a dog.

Playing football in the dirt
Climbing that old mulberry tree
There was just no other place
I would rather be
Jumping in the hay barn
Since who knows when
Going back to Gramma's house
And her cookie tin.

Sunday dinner at my uncle's
Watching TV till eight
Man that Marlin Perkins
He sure was great
Walking back in the dark, though
Wasn't always that fun
The slightest little sound
Would set us off in a run.

Sprinting past the hay barn
And the chicken shed too
You just knew there was some ghost
Bearing down on you
But the back porch light is on
Down at my Gramma's house
Wipe your feet boys she tells us
The peach cobbler is out.

Now I long for those simple days
Down at my Gramma's creek
Laying under the willows
Listening to the water speak
I would cross over the creek
On that big rotten log,
And keep my eyes open
For the skull of that dog.

Birds On The Wane

Back in the “good old days”, when there were still vast unexplored frontiers in this country, John James Audubon and many other biologists would collect their specimens to study with the blast of a shotgun. No one worried about it because of the incredible abundance of wildlife in the United States. It’s a different story now, with many birds either extinct or nearly so, due to habitat loss or outright depredation.

The classic example in this country is the Passenger Pigeon. Flocks that numbered in the billions would darken the skies for hours as they passed overhead. Some of their decline was due to habitat loss as we deforested the woodlands for the farms and houses of the pioneers, but most were shot for food or sport. At one nesting site 50,000 birds were killed each day for five months. In 1857 the Ohio legislature determined that the birds needed no protection, and 57 years later the last Passenger Pigeon died in the Cincinnati Zoo.

The Ivory-billed Woodpecker is listed as critically endangered and possibly extinct. It was once widespread in the southeast but required at least ten square miles of hardwood forest per pair of birds. Clear cut logging decimated those forests, leaving only isolated patches of trees. A video of a possible Ivory-billed in 2004 set off a firestorm of debate on the validity of the identification and that even questioned the motives of the discoverer. The sighting is currently considered invalid, and there is a $50,000 reward offered by the Cornell Lab of Ornithology for anyone who can lead a biologist to one of the birds.

The Eskimo Curlew was once one of the most abundant shorebirds in North America until millions of them were shot at the end of the 19^th century. The last confirmed sighting of the bird was in the early 1960’s. The Bachman’s Warbler was last reported from South Carolina in 1988, and the last Dusky Seaside Sparrow died in protected habitat at Walt Disney World Resort in 1987.

The list goes on and on, but lest I paint a completely bleak picture, there are some success stories out there. Both the Peregrine Falcon and the Whooping Crane were put on the endangered species list and a captive breeding program was started. The crane’s success has been slow but numbers are increasing. The Peregrine Falcon has had great success, so much so that the bird is no longer considered endangered, and has been removed from the list.

In the early 1980’s, only six California Condors remained in a small section of the Los Padres Forest in southern California, due to loss of habitat, poaching and lead poisoning from hunter’s bullets. A heroic effort of study, often spending weeks at a time in that remote backcountry, and a captive breeding program at several zoos has raised the population to about 350, with about 180 birds in the wild in California, Arizona, and Baja California. While still not a viable population, there is hope that these immense birds can again freely roam in our wilderness.

I know what some of you are thinking…”who cares?”….”who needs a Condor or a Red-legged Frog?”…and I’ve seen the bumper stickers “I love Spotted Owls, they taste like chicken.” But the truth is that the loss of these animals indicates a serious and much deeper problem in the ecosystems in which they live. It’s not just a cliché that everything is interconnected. It’s actually true. When we cut down old growth forests and the Spotted Owl declines, we are also affecting the mammals, the other birds, the reptiles and amphibians, the insects, plants, fungi, and even the water and air quality of the region.

Our politicians at every level of government should also keep in mind the economics of protecting the environment, as if we need a “practical” reason to be environmentally conscious. Our population spends many billions of dollars each year on travel, lodging, food, and equipment recreating in our national parks and open spaces. Personally, I need to know there are wild, unaltered areas to explore, even if I don’t happen to visit. But I’m just one of those environmental whackos you hear about.

Backpacking

My new banner picture above shows me standing in my favorite place in the world, Montgomery Potrero in the Santa Barbara county, CA, backcountry. The trail winds seven miles, sometimes through dense chapparal, until emerging onto these immense grassy meadows (potreros) that cover the ridgeline for many miles. The potreros are dotted with large sandstone rock formations that harbor windblown caves and rock shelters, some painted with elaborate designs many years ago by the Chumash tribe.

Another view of the potreros

This coming December will be my 20th annual trek to this area on (or near) the Winter solstice. Two of my solstice trips were not to this area, my first trip in 1990 and one other were to areas nearby, but every other time, rain or shine--or deep snow--have been to these potreros. We have encountered weather ranging from wearing shorts and t-shirts well into the evening to bitter cold where every piece of clothing in our pack doesn't seem to be enough. Lately, I actually prefer the cold, and would be dissapointed if it was warm.

It's hard to describe why I love the place so much. I feel welcome there, and very comfortable. Civilization melts away and only the singular moments remain of finding the trail, or gathering wood, or cooking food, or sitting on the ground around the fire with good friends...nothing else matters. As silly as it might sound to some, I believe the place loves me. I can feel it when I'm there.

Immigration

Our country's immigration policy is being widely debated lately by news "analysts". Allow me to chime in with my opinion about a few points being made.

"They take jobs away from Americans." I grew up in one of the prime agricultural areas of the world and have watched the farm workers for decades. Whole families-- grandparents, kids-- out picking on a Sunday morning, in muddy fields, in the dead of winter. I have even worked alongside them hoeing beans, picking strawberries, moving sprinkler pipes, as a youngster on my summer breaks, and there is an overriding pattern to the work...it's hard. I seriously doubt that they are taking any jobs that 99% of Americans would even consider doing.

"They come here to get on our welfare system" Please. When I see the greedy bastards that run our banking system get bailed out with billions of dollars, only to give themselves millions in bonuses, when I see huge farming corporations paid NOT to grow crops, when I see multi-billion dollar companies banking offshore to avoid U.S. taxes, I think we can afford to hand out some food stamps. And no one ever mentions the millions of immigrants, even the undocumented ones, that are contributing greatly to our society through the work they do and the taxes they pay.

"Children of immigrants born here should not be automatic citizens" This is a new cry from the right and Fox news, and I find it quite entertaining. Except for the few remaining Native Americans that managed to survive the genocide perpetrated against them, we are a nation of immigrants. How many children were born here ages ago that became automatic citizens? I guess that would mean that their children, and their children's children, and so on, are not citizens either. The only good that could come out of this is, if it is found that Bill O'Reilly, Glenn Beck, and Rush Limbaugh need to be deported.

Pakistani Wedding

I attended a wedding last Saturday in California's central valley of the brother of my daughter's boyfriend. It looked to be a traditional Pakistani wedding, but of course, without any frame of reference I have no way of knowing.

What I do know, is that it was a wondrous affair. Many of the guests were decked out in traditional clothing. The women wore colorful flowing skirts and tops, with a wrap flowing over the shoulder and draped over the forearms, some with brightly colored stitching adorned with beads and crystals. Some of the women had painted their hands and feet in intricate designs with henna. The bride was exceptionally beautiful, in a beaded red dress that touched the ground and matching headdress dangling a jewel on her forehead. I was told the dress was very heavy, and it looked like it was.

Many of the men wore suits and ties, but there were some in their long flowing shirts and loose fitting pants. A few of the men wore a type of turban, but I never asked about their significance.

The back yard of the host was professionally lit with colored lights, the sound system played traditional and non-traditional music (read Bollywood), and the bride and groom sat all night long on an ornate couch placed on a stage with a backdrop of colorful cloth and wrapping. I don't believe they even got a plate of food that night as the guests filed by and sat with them on the couch getting their picture taken with the newlyweds.

I was told beforehand that to the Pakistani people, the single most important part of any party is the food, and it did not disappoint. It was a catered affair with tray after tray of dishes and hors d' hovres. I didn't know what many of the dishes were, even labeled, but it didn't stop me from trying every dish. I also couldn't stop drinking their sweet lassi, a concoction of sweetened yogurt that went down very easily.

To be honest, I felt slightly out of place as one of the few caucasions among hundreds of beautiful brown "desi" people, but it was only due to my lack of cultural exposure, my "lilly white" upbringing. At no time did I feel any hint of animosity from the guests. In fact, the host family are a most welcoming and loving group of people. And anyway, it was good for me to feel a little out of place. I can't begin to know how these brown skinned middle Easterners cope as a minority in this (post 9/11) country. As a matter of fact, If I could, I would apologize on behalf of America for any bigotry and racism they have or will encounter. All through the ceremony, I couldn't help thinking that it's only our ignorance of this culture that leads to bigotry. Every American should have been there that night. Of course though, our host Asar would have needed much more food.