The GOOD Earth...

For a few minutes yesterday I watched a queen bumblebee nest questing. Like a small bomber she was flying at treetop level, coursing back and forth over the ground. She had overwintered in some protected place and her task at hand was to find a suitable nest site to raise a new generation of her kind. Flying low next to my feet, I watched her investigate two abandoned vole holes along the fenceline. She disappeared into each for a few seconds only to emerge a short time later, having decided, I surmised, the site lacked the specs necessary for a suitable home. She flew on into the neighbor's pasture, disappeared in the high grass and though I waited for her questing to resume, I never saw her again.

Today is Earth Day, the forty-ninth anniversary, if memory serves. I was around back then for the very first one, teaching at the time in a small high school in the northern part of the state. I remember the day was spent free of traditional instruction. Students instead attended short presentations by local naturalists and members of the U.S. Forest Service. It was a day well spent, raising, if not students' awareness, certainly their appreciation of the pristine wilderness and natural beauty that was so much a part of their daily lives.

Something is killing my bees. My bees used to thrive here on our slim acre. Now winter after winter I lose most of my hives and come spring have to replace them. Other beekeepers are suffering the same plight. Some lose all their hives. Others, most of them. I know for a fact certain species of butterflies, due to habitat destruction, are no longer found in their former haunts. These may seem minor issues to some, but to me they mean something is wrong out there, something is awry on the "Big Blue Marble," our planet Earth, the only one that keeps us--thanks to gravity--grounded. Not only "the times, they are a' changin'," but our planet is a'changin', too. And I believe we, as a species, are significant players in this change.

Whether you accept that Homo sapiens is complicit in climate change and global warming or assume the cavalier attitude that shifting weather patterns, the receding glaciers and polar ice caps are natural cycles, have occurred since the beginning of time, are to be expected, the natural course of things...something with which we as a fragile species have to deal, set aside a moment or two today away from the distraction of your technology and do one or more of the following:

Examine the architecture of a flower. Even a dandelion is a miracle. No need to hug a tree. Just look at one. And not just "look" at it, but "see"it as a living thing that shares this planet with you. Note the branches, how they grow, the leaves, the needles, its bark. A tree is a "territorial view" in and of itself. Consider a lake, a river, stream, creek, puddle or raindrop as more than just water, but as an essential component of life, your life and your children's, and that of all living things, a precious and irreplaceable commodity. Take note of the creatures of the air: birds, insects in flight...commune with a cloud. All are of this planet, all play a role in the grand scheme that is nature.

Or consider that bumblebee queen, her quest to propagate future generations of her kind, her offspring and the offspring of their offspring, insure the survival and perpetuation of her species. Her Earth is our one and only Earth. A healthy planet is a legacy for her children--and ours. An astronaut viewing Earth through his space capsule window covered the small, blue orb with his thumb and thought, "Everything I know from my life lies there under my thumb." Words to think about on this Earth Day, 2019.

Post script: Or as couched by a real poet:

                                    The World is too much with us; late and soon,
                                     Getting and spending we lay waste our powers;
                                     Little we see in nature that is ours;
                                     We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon!
                                     This Sea that bares her bosom to the moon,
                                     The winds that will be howling at all hours,
                                     And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers,
                                     For this, for everything, we are out of tune;
                                     It moves us not.--Great God! I'd rather be
                                     A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn;
                                     So might I, standing on this pleasant lea,
                                     Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn;
                                     Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea;
                                     Or hear old Triton blow his wreathed horn.

                                                                                   William Wordsworth, 1807

Gladys and I Say our Goodbyes...

The wheels of County Works grind slowly, but grind they do. One day Kevin Olson arrived home to find flagged survey stakes at the stoop of his rustic cabin on the banks of Riley Slough. Yes, it was four years ago Kevin learned that Bridge 155 over Riley Slough was scheduled to be replaced. A lot of water has passed under Bridge 155 since then. Kevin and his wife, not wanting a speedway nearly on their doorstep, moved somewhere up Woods Creek a year ago. The County has compensated owner Ginger Mullendore for the loss of her property. Then County Councilman Dave Sommers who met with Kevin, Ginger, and The Ripple (A Meeting at Bridge 155) about the project, (a meeting that accomplished nothing as far as mitigating the proposed shift west of the bridge approach), is now 5th County Executive. One of our stately Valley maple trees standing in the way of progress is now a heap of firewood rounds. In its stead a power pole now supports temporary power lines. The surveys are done, detour signage is posted and actual demolition of old Bridge 155 is scheduled to begin Monday, 4/15/2019 (tax day, note the irony?). Completion date: 1/30/2020 (wonder what Vegas odds are for that to happen?). In the interim, Valley commuters will detour via the Lower Loop Road. New scenery for that traffic, yes, but certainly an aggravation for the resident locals adjacent to the new route, especially the Werkhoven Dairy, making this coming winter one of discontent for their dairy cows. (Andy Werkhoven's sentiment: "I wish the County'd post 'local access only' signs.")

Yesterday Gladys and I pedaled out to the old bridge to say our farewells. A fleet of PUD rigs were on scene. A flagger motioned us around two bucket trucks, the work stations of both full of linemen working on the new power configuration. We stopped at the north bridge approach where I wandered among the spray painted hieroglyphics on the pavement to record the old bridge surface one last time. And for one last time Gladys and I pedaled across.

We pulled up alongside two PUD surveyors carrying their transits, levels, and grade rods. "I can't tell you how many times I've ridden across this bridge over the years," I share. One replied,"You should see what it looks like underneath--scary!" "Tell me about it," I said. "A few years back a pair of inspectors let me accompany them beneath for its biennial inspection" (Crossing over in the Valley: the Abridged Edition). At the south approach I stopped Gladys by the carcass of the newly felled maple tree and recorded the old bridge from that angle.

My photography session over, I mounted up and as we leisurely pedaled by the two surveyors, I told the one holding the grade rod," You know what was the scariest part about being under there? Seeing those trolls!" He grinned and shook his head....


"Trip, trap. Trip, trap. Trip, trap." Who's that trip trapping across my bridge!"

"Hush, you hairy headed thing. It's just the County. They've come to replace your roof."