field notes:

4.19.2003

I've just begun to read it today, so I won't write a thing til I've done that, but will point to it so that you may begin to read it too,and we can contemplate it together. H.R.2459 To establish a Department of Peace. Introduced in the House by Dennis Kucinich to establish a Department of Peace as well as a cabinet-level position titled Secretary of Peace. And you thought there wasn't any good news.

posted by Lisa Thompson on 4:58 PM link | comments []

4.17.2003

I got my first good look at a bobcat last week. It was late afternoon on Bear Valley Road and it crossed the road in front of me as I headed towards a Bolinas fundraiser. I pulled over and watched it saunter around in a field, giving me slow, defiant sidelong glances from time to time. I didn't scare it, not in the least, even as I got out of my truck and stood roadside. Prior to this encounter I'd only had bobcat glances. I am priveledged.

T saw a gray fox the other day, and reported how different in size the gray fox is from the red fox. Another friend says we don't have red foxes out here, only gray, but that the gray has lots of red on its flanks and is often mistaken for the red fox. I turned to The Natural History of the Point Reyes Peninsula by Jules Evens for clarification. He says that we do have a few red foxes, probably introduced by human release. They are larger than the gray fox, and more aggressive. The gray has an unmistakable black-tipped tail. From these pictures the red fox appears to have a white-tipped tail.

We walked the trail from Pierce Point Road to Heart's Desire, doglegged to Pebble Beach and back up to the parking lot yesterday in light rain. There is lots and lots of poison oak at the top end of these trails--my clothes went directly into the washing machine when I got home--as well as lots of huckleberry just beginning to blossom. There are some sweet views of the bay at a couple of points along this walk, and the overlook from the Heart's Desire group picnic area is beautiful. Our voices surprised a blanketed couple below us on the beach as we conversed about a loon off the next point. Most of the birds were heard but seldom seen. However we were able to see both a wilson's and an orange-crested warbler. We certainly heard hummingbird and raven wings, and my friend thought he heard a warbling vireo and the rhythmic tapping of a pileated woodpecker. We saw a beautiful frog: small and green with dark markings on the sides of its rear legs. (I tried briefly to id it but I couldn't find one on a brief journey through my books and bookmarked websites.)

We rested on the sand at Pebble beach for a while. I remembered having a picnic on that same shore with a kayaking aquaintance a couple of years back. He told me that he didn't like to know the names of things in nature because it spoiled his ability to just enjoy unencumbered nature as a whole. I knew then that we probably wouldn't be sharing too many more picnics.

T tells a story of taking some Japanese friends with limited English skills around the Bay area. Every time they would disembark in some new beautiful locale, they'd say, "Nice scene. Nice scene."

Nature as scenery has gotten us into the trouble we're in with the environment. Without understanding the intricate web of complex relationships between species we've made hasty decisions in the name of progress, industry and commerce that have compromised our future in ways we're just beginning to fathom.

Peel back the beautiful scenery, layer by layer, there are truths to be revealed to the watchful eye, the careful heart.
posted by Lisa Thompson on 10:41 AM link | comments []

4.16.2003

Saturday, I walked in the San Francisco anti-war demonstration from Civic Center plaza to the rallying point at Delores Park. Once the rally began with its joyless chanting and strident exhortations I sloshed through the wet grass and wandered off into the Mission for a dry place to sit and a coffee.

During the march and my short stay at the rally I had some brief conversations, and overheard bits of talk that shaped my view of the day, but the most striking encounter I had came on Bart. In Berkeley I looked up at a group of young men coming onto the train and one of them made eye contact with me. It turned out he was alone, not part of the group, and he sat next to me. He was wet, like all of us, and he smelled of tobacco and damp peacoat. His eyes were red-streaked and he felt wild like a dog that you weren't sure you should touch, but not sure you could ignore either.

'Where you been? You gettin' off work?,' he asked. No, I told him, I'd been at a demonstration in the city. 'About what?' he asked. You know, against the war. 'Why?' he asked with a smile. Well, I don't think it's right to go into somebody elses country and take it over and kill people. 'Shoot, don't you know that people in power gotta flex their muscles sometimes? You know that they'd be doin' the same thing to us if they could. You know there's thirty-some homicides in Oakland already this year." I said, Yeah, shouldn't the government put their money into fixing things like that here at home before they go spending all that money on a war. He just smiled.

'You think your little group is gonna stop the power? They don't care what you think.' Yeah, I said, you may be right. But I feel like I've gotta stand up and say what I think is right. What should I do, just let them do what they want? 'No' he said, 'but you can't change it. They got power and they gonna use it, and theys nothin' you can do about it.

I said, What about the Civil Rights movement? He stood up then and grinned, 'That didn't change too much, did it?'

He got off the train there. Just two stops. Looking back on the conversation I'm struck by two things. It was the most intimate of talks. We spoke in low voices, our heads canted together. I'm almost certain that he touched my sleeve, and I felt his wet coat. It was as if we were misplaced friends momentarily reunited, for just two stops. Though our paths, our skins, and lives were completely different, we recognized each other on the train and had a heartfelt dialogue. There was no arguing, no defensiveness and no attempt at persuasion. We just told our thoughts to each other.

The other thing that struck me was his matter-of-fact view of power and its methods. I'm making assumptions about his life, but he almost certainly deals with oppression and power daily in ways that I can't fathom. The power he knows has a will, and the struggle against it is a futile pastime. Might as well just get used to it, even forget about it and go on about your business. With in-your-face street power, thats probably wise policy: if power can shoot you for a wrong move, then it's best to avoid walking that block, offending that power.

If you have to spend your days dealing with neighborhood threat of force you're not going to have time nor will to examine or resist the abstract powers of government.

I can see now that I missed his point. He brought up the homicide rate to demonstrate that people kill each other. Murders in Oakland and death in Iraq, they're all part of the same thing. From his point of view, violence is the natural expression of power. He's the only person I've talked to about the war who didn't argue whether it was justified or not; legal or illegal; right or wrong; a war for oil, or a necessity to defend national security--just power being power, like a river runs to the sea.

Unchecked power does that. That's why it's vital that people who can recognize injustice and abuse of power speak out, spend words like currency, to keep it in check.

Because there is another power. The power that people have when they speak up together for that which moves them greatly. In apartheid South Africa they call it Amandla, that's Zulu for power.

posted by Lisa Thompson on 8:08 AM link | comments []

4.13.2003

As you may be able to see, I'm attempting to add a Comments feature. So far, it's kind of a mess....bear with me please.

Later: So far, if you use the 'comments' link it will email me, but won't register as a comment on the page, and nobody else will be able to see it.
posted by Lisa Thompson on 3:25 PM link | comments []