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R E A D E R . E N L I G H T E N M E N T S
Honoring
Eight Belles
Here is a last minute addition to this issue. It's from a dear friend in Kentucky. -Editors
Did you bid on Eight Belles in the Kentucky Derby? I did. I am not much of a gambler but, as a spectator, I bet on a horse just to say I took part. As a woman, I bet on Eight Belles because I wanted a filly to get in there and compete with the guys. I wanted her to win and she was so beautiful. She came in second! I didn't win a lot of money but when I saw her euthanized I felt terrible. I don't think horse racing is cruel--horses love to run--I don't know anything about how horses are bred and have nothing negative to say about the sport.
And I know that for one death, almost all horses live on, sire or dam other racers and all that stuff you expect. It was just one of those things. It was supposed to be fun for everyone, including Eight Belles, but it wasn't.
What I have decided to do is to donate my winnings to the ASPCA and I invite you to do the same. Any animal-focused charity would do--you local pound if necessary, or some specific horse-based charity if you want. I would also like to invite you to let the recipients know why you are doing this. The valiant racer Eight Belles should be commemorated in some way. It's nothing special perhaps--just a way to show we care about all the brave animals who try so hard to please us.
Please pass this on to anyone you can think of who might like this idea.
Madeleine H. Burnside
Louisville, KY
A New Home
Here's a project recently completed at Maine Audubon's Gilsland Farm. With the help of a neighbor of the facility and staff, an osprey nesting platform was raised. Everyone is hoping that a pair of ospreys will think it's proximity to the Presumscot River is a great location. Plans are to install a web cam so that visitors to Gilsland Farm could observe the birds "up close". Keep your fingers crossed that the platform looks "attractive" enough to entice residents! Thanks to Margi Huber for sharing these photos. -Editors
Thanks to the efforts of neighbors and staff a fine nesting pole is erected at Audubon.
Here is a sight we're hoping to see soon at Gilsland Farm!
How are you helping to support wildlife? We'd love you to share your efforts in the Enlightenments section? Let us know at: editors@spiritliving.org.
Charming Encounter Here's an email we received recently.
-Editors.
I met a lady while I was getting my hair cut who had walked to the ocean's mud flats. Look who she found! Enjoy!
Hildi,
Falmouth, Maine
Have you got an animal encounter to share or something else that you think would be great for the Enlightenments section? Let us know at: editors@spiritliving.org.
Stories of childhood adventures in the natural world are so universally appealing that they transcend both time and culture. Here is a beautiful reminiscence from a reader in New York. It's the story of her earliest memories of camping, playing in the woods and at the seashore.
-Editors.
Born To Go Camping Agnes Blyseth Rysdyk
Being born in April, (I don’t have to tell what year), I was able to go camping my first summer.
This is my mother, Tonny Blyseth, holding me on my very first camping trip!
This was normal for me as my parents, sister, uncles, aunts, cousins and their friends had been camping together for years. At Montauk Point and in the Smithtown area in New York, they had spent many summers grouping their tents together. A couple of years after I was born, my parents bought a piece of property in Smithtown Branch, where we went almost every weekend in the summer time. Being a carpenter, my father built a small building on the property, while we camped in a tent. Several of the neighbors built small buildings, and slowly enlarged them, but my father’s original building stayed about 10 feet by 10 feet with a flat slanted roof. Entering through the front door, there was a window on each side wall. On the right side was a day bed, which could open to a double bed if needed, but we sat on it, eating at the table in the center of the room, . On the left wall was a small icebox then a shelf with shelves underneath and floor to ceiling shelves on the other far end, covered by a curtain. There was a sink and pump under the window, and a portable two-burner stove to the right of the sink. There was a back door that led to a large rectangle platform where a large tent was set up. It had a double cot and a couple of single cots, where we all slept.
Half way back on the property was a pump surrounded by a wood wall with a wood cover to protect the pump when we weren’t there. My parents always brought a large container of water to prime this pump when we first arrived. A little further on, towards the left, was our fire pit with two large tree trunks arranged on each side. They had flat boards nailed on them for us to sit on. All the way near the back of the property was our “outhouse”. It had two different size seats one for the adults the other one for the children. There were woods in the back of the neighbor’s and our properties. Across the road were more woods.
Towards the front of our property were two very tall pine trees that Dad had put a cross bar made of a small log, very high up and hung a swing for us. This was a great swing and lying in the tent at night when it was windy, we could hear the creaking and moaning of the trees moving and rubbing the cross bar.
This was the early 1930’s and no one had much money. Like other men, Dad had built this building from second-hand lumber and from huge wooden packing containers. He never painted the inside of the building so we enjoyed laying on the day bed and reading the printing on the ceiling and walls.
My father had a 1927 Dodge which he kept in very good condition--so good in fact that we didn’t get an other car until 1941. Going from Floral Park to Smithtown was a long ride but I was always happy to go. It was a natural ritual for me. The same events always occurred. My dad had made a galvanized metal box that was tied to the running board, for the food and ice. The first stop was to get a can of kerosene from a gas station, for the portable stove. Going under the railroad bridge entering Smithtown was an immediate left turn to an Ice and Coal place near the tracks for a block of ice for our ice box. The next stop was on the south side to a bakery, where Mom would go up a couple of steps to buy coffee cake, rolls and bread. If it was the first trip of the season, the next stop was to the Town Hall, where my father would get his seasonal permit for the beaches on Long Island Sound. Then, on through the town of Smithtown to the Branch and on to our property on Helen Ave. Quite often my aunts, uncles, cousins and friends would meet us there to spend a day.
We played with nature and we played on the ground. There wasn’t a lawn. The trees were tall and wouldn’t let the sun in, so the ground was covered with all kinds of moss, pine needles and cones, weeds, leaves, stones and sand which was a light gray color. We played in all of it. The neighbor on one side had a little boy about the same age as me and we often played together. I did have my small doll carriage with me, and when the family next door enlarged their cabin, Dad helped them and I wheeled my carriage around the house picking up the small pieces of wood. I collected all the curly remnants when the men planed the wood. The curls sometimes went on my doll, but always in the carriage. It also contained a small hammer and the nails I picked up. Great things to play with in the sand.
I used sticks and stones and made roads. I imagined that the moss which looked like tiny pine trees, was a forest for the little people. That was my favorite moss. It was also fun watching the bugs and ants walking on the roads I made.
Here I am with an inner tube float.
Going to the beach was also exciting. We wore sneakers or rubber shoes because the north shore beaches had rocks at the water's edge. The sand was further back from the water. Of course, there were all different interesting shells, rocks, small fish, etc. at the beach to collect and investigate. When I was a little bigger, I was allowed to go with the older children down to a small brook, where you had to walk carefully through the marshy area. In the summer, it was loaded with darning needles, butterflies, moths, frogs, mosquitoes and all kinds of other bugs. We would try catching little fish or frogs but it was usually without success. Our neighbor collected butterflies and some darning needles and moths. He would mount them on cotton in frames. Every so often, he would show us his large collection. They were so beautiful, but it was also sad to see them there. (When visiting him many years later with my own children, he told me he was going to give the collection to a museum. He shared that he had stopped collecting them long ago.)
By 1936, I was an accomplished swimmer!
When a neighbor asked how my folks knew where to drill for water, I remember my Mom showing him. She cut a Y branch and tried to teach him how to use it as a divining rod to find where to dig a well. Walking while holding the two branches, the tip would bend down if water was in the ground beneath. We had a lot of company that day and everybody wanted to try to see if they could find water. Mom even had my father cut a Y branch for us children to try as everyone was taking turns. After a full day, we would roast marshmallows over the fire and it was off to bed. I loved waking up in the morning listening to the birds. I especially loved the Blue Jays and Red Wing Black birds singing and walking on the tent, along with other small critters.
Our summer camping rituals came to a halt when the United States entered World War II. Gasoline was rationed and my father was too busy. At that time, he worked around the clock and on weekends as a dock builder. While the family trips to Smithtown didn’t continue, the summer weekends were still filled with picnics in state parks and trips to the beach with family and friends. The songs of the Red Wing Blackbirds and Blue Jays have always brought back wonderful memories.
It's great reading how one family spent time outdoors in the 1930's. What about today? How are you spending time out in Nature with your family? Share it with us at: editors@spiritliving.org.
Earth Musings
Here is an unusual form of Earth prayer shared with us by Trudy Sloan. The text is our way to share some of her insights with our readers.
-Editors
One day, Trudy was musing over the word "earth" and found that repeating the word in a continuous line grid produced some very interesting results. While she did a very subtile embroidery of this grid, here is an easily readable version in type.
You may notice that some other words are imbedded in the grid. Here is the same grid highlighted in different colors.
Inside the grid are several words; "Ear", "The", "Hear", "Art", "Heart", "Hearth" and of course our original word, "Earth".
Words have deep power. To better understand the power of these particular words, here are a few etymological definitions--that is the word's root origins. Knowing a word's historical evolution can support our deeper understanding of its meaning.
- - - - - - - - - -
ART This word comes to us from several credited sources. In 1225, it was defined in the Old French as "skill as a result of learning or practice". This has roots In Latin (artem) and refers to "skill" or "craft." The Greek (arti and artios) brings us "just" and "complete". HEAR: THis word comes to us from the Old English via the Saxon via the Old German and is defined as: "to notice, observe". Interestingly, the differences in spelling between "hear" and "here" didn't occur until between 1200-1500AD. Therefore, also imbedded in the word is an implied sense of "presence" or "being in the present". HEART This is a word we know well, however it had an expanded, figurative meaning in the Old English. At that time, the word also referred to "intellect" and "memory". (We found this particularly interesting given the recent research that suggests that the heart is another "brain" with it's own intelligence!) HEARTH Besides the usual definition of the word as "the center floor of a fireplace", it is also a synonym for "home". There is also a relation to the "center of a forge", where the alchemical transformation of metal occurs--that is it is a "place of refinement".
So besides the easily seen messages about listening (EAR and HEAR) with our HEART. We also see implications for the need to apply our "practice/skills" to "notice/observe" from our "heart/intellegence". We are being asked to be "present" as we "observe" the "center" of ourselves. There, we "notice" we are being "transformed" by our "presentness" within the larger "presence" of the Earth. We are being alchemically "refined" in this process. From the "crafting" of our experiences, we are forever changed.
Trudy shared an example of this grid that she had embroidered. It is tacked up as a blessing/prayer flag on the door of the bedroom she shares with her husband, Michael. The flag helps them to remember that even in the emotional whirlwind of Michael's terminal illness, both of them are held by Spirit and the Earth, herself. -Editors
The LIFE Project
Our last contribution this month comes from TED.org. In this stunning slideshow, nature photographer Frans Lanting presents The LIFE Project, a collection that tells the story of our planet, from its eruptive beginnings to its present diversity. This lyrical collection of photographs is set to a soundtrack from Philip Glass.
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