Skip to main content

Pandemic Journey Day 56

May 16, 2020

Today's observation- Iowa has joined the fray to commence the soft reopening of the economy beyond essentials.  The Purgatory Pub's parking lot had a sizable population of motorcycles and pickups; patrons were all inside. I passed a gregarious outdoor scene at a local café and bar, which must have been almost forty folks dining outside and listening to live music on the lawn.  The front door of a chocolate shop in a river tourist town was open, and an a-frame sidewalk sign reminded viewers that chocolate is an essential commodity.  I agreed with that, but I didn't stop.

I'd loaded my kayak for a paddle, the first of the year, and I chose a launch ramp at a county park and marina just off the Rock Creek in Clinton County because it has canoe trails that network a big area.  While rental boats were not out and available, many private crafts were on the water.  And I counted my blessings to have a wide aquatic berth between me and the ticks. The trunks of hardwood trees in the bottomland forests wore stripes like a wildebeest.  It had not been long since the river had receded from that soggy bottom. The woodpeckers and swifts were the dominant birdlife out today, and a few river cooters sunned on protruding logs.  This float helped me dissipate my angst from the information overload of the past days.  Better to imitate the river flotsam and just go with the flow.

Malcolm Gladwell says it is a good sign when people seek moments of normalcy amid a crisis. The park was brimming with this today, and I think that most of the rabble-rousing, to reopen non-essential businesses we've been reading about, is an effort to reclaim normalcy.  Albeit, that overdramatic response would cast this pandemic (and the federal and state governments' efforts to mitigate infection levels) as a political ploy to subjugate the working class.  The stories we tell ourselves!

Leaving the river, I pushed my outing further with a visit to Eden Valley Nature Reserve, an old homestead made into a public natural area.  Here too, many others needed to get out of the house and the neighborhood. They had set up their campers and RV's or were playing in Bear Creek, or rambling the trail network.  But it was not crowded, much to my relief. Such a sweet spot for a homestead, here was a fertile arable bottom off a healthy little river with tall gnarly limestone outcroppings, making a sheltered palisade into walls and corridors. It did resemble a little Eden and probably has been inhabited for thousands of years before these settlers. It's that kind of place. I imagined up until the invention of internal combustion engine vehicles, this was remote living.  Maybe the family saw their neighbors a few times a month and during winter, less than that.  Days filled with chores, disciplined and rhythmed to keep entropy at bay and crisis mitigated.  A different life dance than we expect today.  When did we shift to living a life that is so presumptive and pleasure-expectant,  one that measures success by the amount of leisure time and stuff? Have we actualized our parents' dreams for the privileged life, made in a moment of frustration with poverty?  That thought makes me wonder. What is the implicit dream that I put forward for my sons to actualize?

There is an art of patience that dwelled in these farm families because the land demanded it. Hardships were a dime a dozen and easy flitted past like the birds and butterflies. In places like this homestead, I think of self-reliance as a successful symbiosis with the place.

Is it too late for a revival of pioneer literature and the transcendentalists? Are these stories and philosophies ancient history, the common threads frayed and falling apart? I get it, that frontier mentality was a big problem. But what endures a crisis is timeless.  These stories intersect with our life to remind us that things will be inconvenient, stressful, painful, dangerous, and even grueling but these times define us.  They hold the opportunity to galvanize and distill out the best parts of us, or to render us to our worst. In the end, entropy will rule the day, always has, always will. So in the meantime, let's exercise the one thing we can control, how we treat one another, and how we live on the planet. 


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Covid19 Journey Day 27

April 17, 2020 Today’s celebration – Last May I attended the annual school fundraising gala.   Browsing the items on the silent auction tables, I found nothing that that stirred my avarice, so I took another tack and decided to find things that I could have fun with or devise pleasure from, as a way to justify some necessary opening bids.   There was an impressive box of chocolate bars with a couple bottles of red on which I entered the first bid, and I paused at a wooden crate with another pair of wines, nice glasses and a gift certificate for a charcuterie tray.   The vintner of the Pinot Noir and Chardonnay was Kosta Browne. Without a thought of the initial bid being the winning bid, I scratched my offer on line #1 - $150. I did covet a set of hand thrown mugs from our headmaster’s wheel, but found my bid lost in the healthy bid escalations.   By the end of the evening though, I was the winner of the box of wine and chocolate and the two bottles of Kosta Browne.   Once at home

Pandemic Journey Day 49

May 9, 2020 Today’s mind experiment – this morning, I launched the thought experiment by watching a shared video called Coronavirus from Outer Space – Professor Wickramasinghe, Astrobiologist.  The channel is Green Tara Guru. The production behind Dr. Wickramasinghe’s mini-lecture was fun; his home office video was surrounded by a frame, embellished with space CGI and supporting image video clips for what he is describing at any moment, as well as, a celestial music soundtrack.  (My students would love if I were able to produce such lecture videos for them.) It was released May 1, 2020, and has a paltry three hundred fifty-nine views, one of which is mine.  After watching the video, I did my customary search about Dr. Wickramasinghe’s background.  He is a broadly publish an award-winning British mathematician and astronomer born in Sri Lanka in 1939. In the 1960’s he worked with theoretical physicist Dr. Fred Hoyle on a radical kind of panspermia (the idea that life is distributed thro

2020 Pandemic Journey Day 44

May 4, 2020 Today’s idea – What has the fog of our modern conveniences begat? I read an article last night published in 1950 by Berton Roueche’ titled The Fog . In October 1948, a toxic smog settled on the borough of Donora, PA. This town is tucked away on a meander of the Monongahela River in the Allegheny Mountains.   During that time, it was home to three huge mills, a steel plant, and a zinc and sulfuric acid plant. The towering factory stacks of these industries pushed out thick plumes of coal smoke all day and all week. Also, given the town’s proximity to the river, boats and trains added their emission to the cocktail. To seal the deal, Donora sits in the topography of secluded bluffs and hills that allow for little or no wind to carry the smoke and fumes out of town.   So the place was known to be a smutty, smokey mess, tolerated by residents who referred to the sulfurous stench as the smell of money. On this weekend in October, a thermal inversion put a tighter lid of the