Life and July 2010

The nice thing about returning to a place of memories is that it fosters a sense of continuity. Refugio, Texas, is like that for me.
Though I see something new every time I return here, I also am grounded in the familiarity of the smells and sounds of Creation that abound in this part of the world. Last year was bone-dry drought; this week is lush, soggy greeness.
Oak trees here... giant sentinals of time... are part of that continuity, that innate sense of primal endurance that welcome me back like an old great-uncle, when I once again encounter them in the pasture or prominent station near the roadway. And it is with similar sadness when I see some of these centurions brown with death, a contrast to the life around them, especially the giant post oaks of Kelley Road. Some say the drought took its toll; others- an oomycete that selects against Q.stellata. The live oaks do not share the same vulnerability and continue to push out green shade amongst these scattered deceased giants. It's almost like there was a generation of post oaks planted a hundred years ago, and all have become nesting sites and termite fodder today.
Nevertheless, life goes on.
It says so in the performance-art of relatives visiting a local cemetary, or citizens taking photos of some relic left over from the age of windmills and cattle drives; what was is not as it was, yet is for those who look a reminder of what was and might possibly be.
Life goes on; God, I thank you for that reminder.
I love you, Lord.
Thanks for putting up with me.

Hurricanes are Good

Hurricanes are good.
In North America we annually have several species of migratory creatures that head south. The monarch butterfly, for example, is a sailor, using its spinnakers to flutter down to Mexico for the winter, and as all sailors know, wind is your guide.
Mankind, in a time when we were not burning "ancient sunlight" to fuel a depleting and non-sustainable industrial revolution, knew all about the trade winds. Nations would set sail for cargo or perhaps the pursuit of freedoms, knowing that at certain seasons or latitudes the prevailing winds will carry you toward your destination.
And so, here along the Gulf of Mexico, we understand that hurricanes come with the heat of summer or early autumn. It's just part of the rhythm.
One of the funniest things I've ever heard were a group of ignorant democrats blaming Bush for hurricanes-- I laugh just remembering that episode, so funny... like the stooges, Moe and Curly-- so sincere and so ridiculous! (What's even funnier is when anti-Bush types have no idea that it was Clinton/Gore who chose not to ratify the Kyoto Protocol, resulting in several staff quitting-- priceless!)
That's like blaming Obama for freezing rain in winter! Crazy!
Hurricanes tend to enter the Gulf of Mexico in such a way that the prevailing winds (counter-clockwise) bring the air mass southward, down the Texas coast toward the winter grounds in Mexico and beyond. This southward flow benefits butterflies, broad-tailed hawks and blue-winged teal, which migrate at the end of summer.
Hurricanes are a natural balance, a blessing from God upon His Creation.
And please don't shake your fist at the Almighty when you chose to build your homes along hurricane-front property and they are destroyed... hurricanes will happen.
And pretty-please, don't complain when you build a city below sea-level, and wonder why it floods... that is insanity, like jumping off a cliff and complaining about the landing.
Hurricanes happen.
Once upon a time God made man in His own image and placed him in His Garden, to tenderly care for it by pruning it to keep it in balance. Man rejected God, mined groundwater creating subsidence, burned fossils til the skies turned gray with waste, took what he wanted and left the poor to fend for themselves, then questioned why we have hurricanes.
Hurricanes remind us that we are not God.
And that's a good thing.