At a time when we can’t really see each other or interact with each other as we normally do, I wanted to reach out and wish each of you a safe and happy day. I was thinking about what I might be able to do to reach out across this isolation void and came up with the idea that I could send out a poem that I have written about a bird from the Texas coast along with Isabelle Chapman’s wonderful art of the same bird. As time has passed we have diverged from the original concept of writing about Texas Birds to a daily celebration of Earth Church. After a year of the Virus Vigil we have decided to stop daily arts and poems. We are extremely grateful for the connection this vigil has brought us and may send more poems and art soon.
Below you will find the artwork from Isabelle alongside my daily messages with the poems attached at the bottom as PDFs. To find a specific poem or day, you can look through the Virus Vigil Poem Index PDF below. I love to hear your comments and feedback. Feel free to send me a notes by emailing me at jbb@blackburncarter.com . Take care and know that you are in my thoughts.
Below you will find the artwork from Isabelle alongside my daily messages with the poems attached at the bottom as PDFs. To find a specific poem or day, you can look through the Virus Vigil Poem Index PDF below. I love to hear your comments and feedback. Feel free to send me a notes by emailing me at jbb@blackburncarter.com . Take care and know that you are in my thoughts.
| Virus Vigil Poem Index |
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Virus Vigil Live Recording
March 21, 2021 To commemorate a year of the Virus Vigil, we got together with some of our Earth Church "congregants" via Zoom. Check out the video to the right for a discussion on our art and connections this past year. |
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DAY 365
March 21, 2021 Well hello again. Day 365 has arrived. It is hard to believe but Isabella and I have been corresponding with you all every day for a year. I don’t know that I have ever done anything every day of the year except perhaps be married and live with Garland, but this has been different and very special to me and Isabelle and I know it to have been special to many of you as well. Don’t forget to join us today at 5 p.m. for the virus vigil LIVE. The zoom address is https://us02web.zoom.us/j/82187786223. Come and spend some time with the two of us. We really don’t know exactly what we will do. If you have any questions you want us to answer, send them ahead of time if you like. And I think Camille – my great assistant who has maintained the web site and curates the vigil – will be monitoring the chat so send things to us. And we may take live questions as well. And today – for our last poem and painting – we are dedicating the day to the color yellow and the yellow bird. Our friend H.C. Clark wrote about the importance of yellow in nature, and then Isabelle got into it and so we end with a lovely yellow piece and why not? Let gratitude be the parting message of the vigil, as well as making lemonade out of lemons – and I am truly grateful for each and every one of you. I am grateful that you allowed Isabelle and me to come into your life. I am grateful that spring is on its way. I was outside the Wimberley house on Saturday and heard the call of Sandhill Cranes and looked up to see a V-formation of about 100 birds making their way north, and I was truly grateful to be alive at that moment, connected to the migration, connected to other living things. Gratitude should define us these days – gratitude for not being sick, gratitude for the vaccine, gratitude for the possibility of life returning to some sense of normal. And on this final day, I am grateful we made it a year. I honestly never had a thought of making it a year. That was not the intent. I remember writing about being the Energizer Bunny and I don’t think that was even a hundred days into the vigil. But it is time to end it for now, although like I said, we might be back in touch. And I will likely send out some interesting good news about Chiltipin Creek. I now have your emails. No telling what you might receive. Be safe. Stay connected. With love. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 364
March 20, 2021 Hello all. Coming to you again from Wimberley with more good news about spring. Today is the equinox – the balance point of the sun – perfectly poised between north and south – the Earth in symmetry, at least for one day. And then on Sunday, the sun comes north, and I for one welcome my old friend back on his journey, just as the birds are making their journey north. Follow the sun – what a mouthful. Entire species’ life cycles are spent doing just that. A sinuous curve when viewed over many years – a voyager cruising up and then down and then up again. The rhythm of life – the rhythm of the Earth – the rhythm of being. Good stuff. Stuff that makes me feel content – fulfilled – comfortable. And I’m feeling that rhythm today which I proclaim Earth Church day. Tomorrow will have a bit different feel, a happy and mellow yellow feel, but today – I’m one with the church of the Earth and the cathedral outside my window is in fine form, albeit that a few plants are a bit burned still, but that old skin will be discarded as a snake sheds its skin and the new will emerge – bright and tentative, then bursting forth, a happy plant celebrating escaping death yet again. The yucca has withered at the edges but the core is blue gray in the sunlight, the cedars green and vibrant, seemingly unmoved by the freeze except for the big one that split in half with the weight of the ice, a stunning reminder of the power of natural forces and of the initial flaw in the growth of the trunk that could not be overcome. Such is that stuff of life. The wren is working the porch, the titmouse and the chickadee are on the feeders and the cardinals haven’t tuned in yet. My neighborhood and neighbors – survivors like us all – and I’m proud to call you all friends. Be safe. Remember to join us for the virus vigil live on zoom at 5 p.m. on Sunday. Use this link. https://us02web.zoom.us/j/82187786223. Blackburn | ||
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DAY 363
March 19, 2021 Hello all. I want to thank all of you who have written telling us of your appreciation for the virus vigil. Isabelle and I are both heartfelt in our commitment to this effort that has run its daily course. We of course reserve the right to bother you every now and then with a poem or a piece of art. I know there are a few good art pieces that I did not find the words to fit and they might come at you after a few weeks and we will see if the artist can resist sending more things for me to write about, but no deadlines and no promises. Today I am writing about a wonderful set of jewels collectively referred to as the Flower Garden Banks – an ecosystem of coral reefs atop three salt domes about a hundred miles into the Gulf. Out there, the water is clear and I am told that the coral is beautiful as seen from the surface looking down, appearing like a garden growing in the Gulf of Mexico. Among other marine life, there are manta rays out here that are fabulous. The Flower Garden Banks is the only National Marine Sanctuary in the Gulf of Mexico and is by all reports spectacular. I have never been there but intend to make a trip, perhaps sometime this summer if I can get it together. Or maybe next year, but it is on the list. So enjoy today’s poem about the flower gardens and fill your heart with happiness that spring is upon us as is the equinox. Yesterday driving out here to Wimberley you could see change in the landscape – green is coming on the trees, a few flowers are starting to bloom but no bluebonnets on this trip. Looking forward to renewing my spirit. And remember the virus vigil LIVE Sunday at 5:00 p.m. The link is https://us02web.zoom.us/j/82187786223. And be safe out there. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 362
March 18, 2021 Hello all. Today I am going back in time as we begin to bring this virus vigil to a close. I was thinking about the friendship that John Chapman and Isabelle and Garland and I have had for many decades, and I got to thinking about when Isabelle and I first began to collaborate. And even before she and I published our first book of poems called Birds: A Collection of Verse and Vision which was released in 2009, Isabelle allowed me to use one of her pieces of art as a poster for a conference that was held in Beaumont in 1996. Although my relationship with the Earth as a higher power goes back to the 1980s, this was really the beginning of the thinking that led to Earth Church which was further developed in a speech at the Rothko Chapel in 2013 which is attached. Note the word stewardship on the poster, the Christian term for protecting the creation that derives from the Greek word oikos which means caring for the household – the Earth – the same root word for economics and ecology. Interesting coalescence there. So, after a year of receiving her art and my musings, I thought you might like to see the genesis of my artistic relationship with Isabelle represented by this heron on this poster that is framed and hanging at our home in Wimberley. And then there was yet another collaboration with Isabelle on our book titled Hill Country Birds and Waters: Art and Poems published in 2019. The point of this rambling is that this last year is in many respects a culmination of the thinking about Earth Church and a high point of my collaboration with Isabelle. Today, I am grateful that we have been able to produce these poems and artistic efforts for 362 days and counting. By the way – the email on Friday could be a bit late as I am uncertain of my internet connection up in the Hill Country as a relay station went down and we are changing providers, but it should be coming sometime Friday. And stay tuned for Saturday and Sunday as we move toward the virus vigil live on Sunday at 5 p.m. Use this link to connect to us. https://us02web.zoom.us/j/82187786223. Be safe and take care and stay connected. Blackburn. | ||||
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DAY 361
March 17, 2021 Hello all. Day 361. Just four more days until Sunday – Day 365, which will be the last of our daily virus vigils. It will be a year since we began, and it seems like forever in some ways and very short in others, as all years at my age seem shorter and shorter. What I know is that the intent of this virus vigil has remained true – to reach out and communicate – to touch each of you as best Isabelle and I could manage. And so know that the Virus Vigil LIVE on Sunday, Day 365, will mark the official end, although we probably will be unable to help ourselves and will send out a missive here and there. The virus vigil link is https://us02web.zoom.us/j/82187786223 and the time is 5 p.m. on Sunday. In the meantime, I had a bit of dental surgery yesterday and am back safe and sound and writing this about 7 p.m. yesterday, so I seem to be functioning reasonably well. And as the artist said when she sent this lovely tumbleweed, “we are all tumbling through life, good and bad.” So true – just rolling across the landscape of life. So roll on, campers, and find a lovely place in this wonderful Earth that is our church – a place of tumbling weeds and you and me, a place where the spiritual is free to be. Be safe. Wear masks. Get the shot. And know that we care about you all with whom we have been communicating these many months. See you tomorrow. Blackburn | ||
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DAY 360
March 16, 2021 Hello all. JB here. Hope you are all doing well today. Above is piece that arrived from Ms. Isabella, our painter supreme – a piece I have turned into a local totem amongst indigenous folks who did not have totems as far as I know, but then again, not all that we have written is true or provable. I love to consider this image flying over the marsh, and landing on the edge of Matagorda Bay. It is highly unlikely that I would be wade-fishing and encounter that scene, but I did conjure it up for you in today’s poem. And one of you kind readers out there sent me some information about a huge herd of 5000 to 6000 buffalo being seen near Garcitas Creek on the north side of Matagorda Bay. This report is from Officer Joulet from LaSalle’s expedition as set out in a new book by Dan Worrall, a former Shell geologist, called A Prehistory of Houston and Southeast Texas: Landscape & Culture, that by all accounts is an excellent book about our region that covers from about 400,000 years back to today. Just think about the water level of the Gulf of Mexico being 400 feet lower and the coastline being way out there in the Gulf. I am aware of these facts because I have been around geologists my whole career – geologists like H.C. Clark who exposed me to the concept of geologic time (it is really slow), but it is always good to be reminded of this past that is so unlike the present. It’s good to get to know your place, our place, the Texas coast, Texas, or whatever your/our place is because it is all the Earth and we all need to know and love our mother. So – be safe. Get vaccinated if you have not and can. Wear a mask. And send a little love out into the universe today. It will come back to you. And enjoy the winged totem poem. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 359
March 15, 2021 Welcome to another wonderful day here in paradise. And I’m not kidding. Right now Houston and the Gulf Coast are like a paradise, albeit with a lot of brown vegetation. Signs of spring are everywhere. I walked down North and South Boulevards where the night herons nest, and I am happy to report that they have arrived and paired up and are in the business of making and rearing the next generation. That is such a wonderful gift – to be able to browse beneath live oaks where a community of night herons resides, to be so in touch with what a group of birds is doing. Today’s topic is meditation, and for me, to be a part of that night heron community is a form of meditation. I have my own definition of meditation – I am not sure that I practice meditation in any way that meets some test of what meditation is or should be, but I find pathways to inner peace through various things I do, including going within myself to clear my head and to find my truths. And when I am through I feel better able to meet the day. So in that sense I meditate. But more importantly, I search for inner truth, and every now and then I find something approaching that goal. So – enjoy this piece on meditation and Isabelle’s image which I keyed off of. Continue to be safe and don’t forget the Virus Vigil LIVE next Sunday. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 358
March 14, 2021 Hello all you former campers now camp survivors. We are one week away from the virus vigil LIVE with Isabelle and me. That will be coming your way at 5:00 p.m. on March 21 (next Sunday). Here is your information: Topic: Virus Vigil LIVE Time: Mar 21, 2021 – Program starts At 5:00 PM Central Time Join as early as 4:45 to ensure a seat Zoom Link - https://us02web.zoom.us/j/82187786223 Yesterday on Matagorda Bay was glorious. This was one of those days when fishing was tough. I always believe fishing is going to be bad when the birds are sitting and they were down. Laughing gulls lined up on the locks at Matagorda, white pelicans reflecting the sun from a small sand island, terns and gulls sitting on exposed oyster reefs. We searched for moving water which is good for fishing – we went up bayous and sloughs including an old channel of the Colorado River that was great for viewing belted kingfishers and ospreys – great for watching a brown pelican dive right in front of our boat and then lifting up and flying straight at us, going just over our heads and the wonderful caracara watching is as we left for the day, a day of images that will be with me for a while, a day of gratitude for life and living things, a day spent attending Earth Church ceremonies. Be safe. Stay connected. Join the virus vigil live next Sunday. And for today – a few reflections out of life with many fun and interesting ones, some serious, some not so serious, all from a life lived in the late 20th and early 21st century in the United States, a grand and sometimes fragile experiment. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 357
March 13, 2021 Good morning from the Texas coast. When you are reading this, I will likely be somewhere down on Matagorda Bay, attending ceremonies at Earth Church. Spring is in the air and I am looking forward to renewing my spirit – collaborating with my soul on a journey to my center. I hope there are still some ducks down for I love to see the rafts lifting off of the bay, watching the fast wing beats take their owners by at speed, watching them land a hundred or two hundred at a time, always beyond easy eyesight, always keeping ahead of or behind the boat. Enjoy today’s poem about the vaccine – the shot that will change our lives once again, an up in this up and down world of the pandemic. I enjoy science and I applaud scientists, but we are living a miracle of modern science – the rapid development and deployment of these vaccines. I have not talked much about vaccinations because we are all on different vaccination schedules, but a tribute to the vaccine and to the syringe which is on every newscast every day seems appropriate. If you have had your vaccination, I hope it brings you some peace. If you have not, I hope you get it soon. Garland and I and Isabelle and JC have had it. Get yours as soon as you can. I think it will make a huge difference on this post-Covid world we live in today. And Sunday, I’ll have a report about my Earth Church celebration down Matagorda Bay way. Be safe. Stay connected. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 356
March 12, 2021 Welcome to another glorious day on the march toward spring. I feel like dancing around on the patio, whooping it up, because the cold is not with us right now. I had enough cold weather a few weeks ago to last me for a while, although I am sure by the end of September cold will be welcome again, and so it goes. And today I am smiling because I am looking at the prayer flags of Earth Church, slashes of color out in the landscape that wish the universe well – that celebrate life and living through pink, blue, red, green, yellow, white and orange pieces of cloth waving in the breeze – visible yet serene – sending an Earth Church message of humility and gratitude and good will from Isabelle and me to all of you and the world at large. Today I am sending out messages of love and connectuality through the prayer flags that fly from my soul to yours. I coined the phrase “stoop of my soul” in the grackle poem from many months ago, and I love that image. These prayer flags of Earth Church fly on the stoop of my soul every day, and they are beautiful to focus upon – to use as a point where perception and focus are lost as I become one with the universe. So I guess I could say – welcome to the stoop of my soul – my front porch where the prayer flags hang. And when the wind blows, my prayers go out, day after day, month after month, year after year, for that is the life I have chosen to live. And with a bit of luck and a bit of work and a lot of love from Garland and others, may it continue. Amen. And whoosh – the prayer is launched with the wind. Stay connected. Be safe. Make some flags and fly them and believe the message that they convey. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 355
March 11, 2021 Day 355. Of the things that have been weird and strange over the past year, perhaps none is more surprising than the ruckus over masks. I sometimes have difficulty understanding how differences amongst us become toxic, and the fighting over masks is a big mystery to me. First of all, it just makes sense that a mask is a way to prevent the spread of disease. Doctors and nurses have used them forever, so I don’t understand why it should be a big deal to be asked to wear one to prevent the spread of a dangerous disease. Now, there were some that believed that the pandemic was a fiction – a fraud. Can’t help them. And then there was Donald Trump. And I do understand that personal liberty is an issue, but personal rights have always been restricted when they interfere with someone else’s well-being. Nuisance law is all about property owners needing to make reasonable use of their land. The way we are heading, we might demolish common law concepts of reasonable care and reasonable use because I desire to act in an unreasonable way. So, I think this whole mask issue belongs in a rap poem and that’s what I’ve done – Rapper JB sounding off about masks. I am not sure of the look that goes with this – but you’ll just have to use your imagination. In the meantime, WEAR your mask and enjoy this poem and stay connected, you hear. This is JB the rap man signing off for today. | ||
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DAY 354
March 10, 2021 And hello once again. This painting and poem is by special request as Garland asked that we take on climate change as a subject. She was talking with her accounting partner Victor Harris, and they decided this was a worthy topic. So, I come today with the faces of climate change – heat and ice melt and water, water everywhere, but it all might come at once and then drought. The tide is getting higher. We were colder last February than I can remember and it rained more in Harvey than we’ve ever seen. Ike was a Cat 2 storm with Cat 4 surge, and we all should send out some prayer flags (coming soon) of thanksgiving that Ike didn’t hit 50 miles further south. Climate change is not coming in 50 years. It is here now although it is only just beginning. I am very interested in the momentum started by Bobby Tudor when he was president of the Houston Partnership relative to climate change. Bobby challenged the Houston business community to embrace the challenge of climate change by becoming the “Energy Transition Capitol” and leading the movement to “net-zero”, a movement I want to contribute to. If the Houston community became a global leader in the movement to “net zero”, it would be truly heroic – an effort worthy of the ancient heroes and heroines. And like any hero’s journey, the path will be rugged, full of pitfalls, naysayers, and hydra-headed monsters. This is about rethinking our economic structure and creating a new pathway into the future – one that is full of new jobs, new challenges and lots of batteries. But before we get too carried away, we all need to understand climate change, so I have written today’s poem as an attempt at explaining climate change in rhyme. I hope it conveys a bit of science and a bit of enjoyment. And while we are at it, put some heat on old Covid and don’t let it into your face. Wear your mask. Get your vaccine if you can. And stay connected with your friends. We are moving out of the darkness and into the light. Let it shine on all of us. Amen. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 353
March 9, 2021 Hello all. Hope you are surviving well on this fine day that I have dedicated to friends and to one friend in particular – Ann Hamilton – also known as the Tough Old Bird or TOB. Ann is tough and smart and wacky and fun. She is about everything you could want in a friend and today is her birthday, so it is with love and gratitude for a great friendship and a great friend that I dedicate Day 353 to the Tough Old Bird. Ann loves whooping cranes and is a fierce protector of them as well as Earth Church generally, so today’s painting is of the that new species called the whooping woman, a really neat species all to herself. Two remembered events stand out – Garland and Ann and I demonstrating against the Iraqi war by marching from Bayou Place west down Buffalo Bayou with about 5000 other Houstonians against another war that would not and really has not ended. And also, Ann joining Garland and me and John Chapman and Isabelle and another friend Susan Rieff on a trip to Tanzania for one of the best Africa trips ever. So on this day of her birth a few moons ago, I simply want to express how much I appreciate her friendship. And so, friendship is our theme for today. Reach out to your friends. Connect with them. Joke with them. Give them a hard time about some remembered event. But most importantly, connect with them and let them know you care for them and appreciate them. Many of us have lost touch with good friends during these dark Covid days of separation or even perhaps before then. Don’t let them be left behind. Reach out – extend a hand – in friendship – in connectuality. And of course, be careful, wear your mask and watch out for ole tricky Covid. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 352
March 8, 2021 Good morning all. I’m still smooth. The weather the last few days here on the coast has been wonderful. Idyllic. It is amusing how something that was so toxic can become so perfect so quickly. Sometime life comes down to surviving a few days of horror. Garland’s domain – the yard – continues to be a work in shades of brown. A walk in the neighborhood is like a stroll through a mortuary for plants. The key is did life find a sanctuary – a way to hide from the freeze? And think about this – why did some plants survive and others not? According to howplantswork.com, “Plant cells survive sub-freezing temperatures by adjusting their solutes, proteins, and membrane lipids in order to withstand desiccation and to avoid ice crystal formation”. They have inner defense mechanisms that evolved over millenia as plants expanded north or in the northern climate. This adaptation to the cold was not developed by tropical plants that did not need to invent this response in order to survive in their locales. And here in Houston, they cannot and did not respond nearly as well as many natives. So some just died and became a pulpy mess. Some lost their limbs and leaves but keep their trunk either just above or below ground. Some retain it all. But it is all about survival and adaptation, and as I walk the neighborhood, what I see is the force for adaptation at work. And speaking of adaptation, today’s orange-toothed invasive species is the nutria, the bane of the marsh that has a face only a mother or father could love. So enjoy this poem about this import from South America, and be safe out there, wear a mask and get vaccinated if you can. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 351
March 7, 2021 Hello again from virus vigil central. The weather is cooperating – I went out and just sat in the sun yesterday, letting the rays warm me, getting comfort from celestial bodies far away. I continue to be amazed that we pay so little attention to those things that nourish us like the Earth and the sun. So in that context, think of my reaction when the artist emailed the painting above to me that she calls “String Theory”. Receiving this one made me smile, but I was also perplexed – how to do this? I have read a bit about string theory which is some really far out stuff they didn’t teach when I was in college and I took a first try at writing a poem that presented the physics in some detail, and my reader and helper in determining what you might like – Ann Hamilton – sent a kind “you can do better”, so I went back to the keyboard and lightened up a bit. The point of all of this is it’s such a wonderful, strange world that we live in, ever full of mysteries that we continue to discover. It is just fine not to be on top of everything. While I don’t celebrate ignorance, not knowing some things is just fine. In birdwatching I enjoy meeting old friends that I can recognize, but there is also joy in catching a glimpse of a bird that moves a bit differently than those you know, that is colored a bit differently, that flies differently. Search and discover – key concepts for today. Stay safe, wear your mask and get vaccinated. Life is emerging in many ways. And also, I want to thank Christina Walsh who helps me by creating “thumbnail” images of Isabelle’s larger electronic files. Thanks, Christina. And thank you Ann, for helping me communicate better, and you too Garland. You guys are all great. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 350
March 6, 2021 Hello all. Today I am feeling smooth and mellow. Life is looking up. I can see the light, and I want to walk on the beach, so I found this image that Isabelle had sent me a few months ago. When I received this image, I could not conjure up a poem to match it – I had no idea what the funnel-like object was and nothing connected, so it went into a folder to be saved for another day. So this image is found art, just as the item is found beach detritus, the identity of which may be a lotus pod washed down a river and to the beach. And yesterday, the poem just jumped out at me – a poem of gratitude and appreciation, a poem of thanks for the ocean from whence we came, albeit long, long ago. The ocean is such a mystery, perhaps less explored than space in some ways. I remember helping put on an event at the Sam Houston Coliseum a long time ago where David Crosby and Graham Nash played and showed their film about a tribute to the whale, an event that didn’t transform Houston or Texas, but an event that did transform me a bit, helping me along toward sobriety, moving me toward Earth Church, connecting me to the threads that make me what I am today. So enjoy this tribute to the sea, and for those living in Houston, drive down to the beach and smell the salt water, walk on the beach, kick some sand and watch the birds which are starting to move up the coast as the spring migration begins. Let them come and enrich our lives, and let us give thanks that we are alive to see them and meet their spirits. Amen. | ||
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DAY 349
March 5, 2021 Good morning. It’s the first Friday in March. Any sign of spring? Seemed pretty chilly last night but not February cold. Glad February is gone. I love all of my time here on Earth, but some I enjoy a bit less than others. So get ready. Spring is heading our way, and it will be all the better with the memory of the freeze. So today, our artist has prepared a report card on the last year. We all get to grade it. It was a year like none in my memory. On one level, it seems like a lost year at a time in my life when I don’t have that many to lose. On another, it was a wake-up call to be grateful, to appreciate what we have come to consider a norm – an expectation. Life can be and is hard at times. The harder years make the easier ones so much better, but we have to survive. And speaking of survival, keep being smart out there. Masks are important. Even if you are vaccinated, be careful. I don’t think bulletproof exists relative to the virus, but we can all enjoy life a bit more over time heading into spring and toward the summer. | ||
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DAY 348
March 4, 2021 Hello all. Well, another day of disappointment in our leadership at the State of Texas level. As you know, I think that masks are very important. But for Earth Church, I might be tempted to abandon this state, but then I get out and experience nature and it all comes back to me. That and some of the most wonderful people on Earth make this place worth fighting for, but we need better leadership in the future. This is not a time for diversionary tactics but rather a time to focus on problems. One such problem is flooding in Houston, and I have just published a new paper over at the Baker Institute and I have attached it to today’s vigil. It is a piece that is primarily about climate change and flooding and how antiquated rules keep the Corps of Engineers from being more effective. I hope you enjoy this. I am also attaching the Zoom link for the March 21 Virus Vigil Live with Isabelle and me. The waiting room will open before 5 p.m. and you might come in a few minutes early and get a seat, so to speak. Here is the address: Topic: Virus Vigil LIVE Time: Mar 21, 2021 – Program starts At 05:00 PM Central Time Waiting Room Open Earlier Join Zoom Meeting https://us02web.zoom.us/j/82187786223 Today’s artwork features painting on the edges of several cigar boxes, a different approach for Isabelle. Today’s poem is in anticipation of spring – which I have been looking forward to for some time. Let the spring rains come. Let the flowers emerge from the ground. Let there be life. Amen. Blackburn. | ||||
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DAY 347
March 3, 2021 Well hello all. Welcome to another day in paradise. Yep, I’m talking about Texas, the place where the government has declared we don’t need to wear masks any more. This is the same state that lost its electrical grid to a freeze, and is trying as hard as it can to limit your access to easier voting. But I’m not going to linger on things that I have no capacity to change right now, although I would like to see a good candidate running for Governor in 2022. I think one of the cats today is named for such a character. And we are featuring cats today. I know many of you have depended upon your pets to pull you through this Covid pandemic, and none moreso than our artist Isabelle and her husband John Chapman who have Beto and Bella, our Covid cats who are being put up for the cat hall of fame for their wonderful stewardship of Isabelle and JC during this mess we have been living through. And by the way – please save the date of March 21 at 5 p.m. Isabelle and I are going to present the Virus Vigil LIVE on Zoom for your viewing pleasure. We have enabled a large capacity zoom meeting and all will be welcome to join with us then to hear Isabelle talk about her poetry and to hear me read a poem or two and just generally talk about this experience that we have all been through together. So mark it down. March 21. It’s a Sunday. 5 p.m. Get yourself a drink and some snacks and settle in. You’ve watched everything worth watching on TV long ago. It’s time for a bit of Earth Church. And now – on to Bella and Beto and be safe. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 346
March 2, 2021 Hello all. Day 346 and the big sucking sound that you hear is the black hole that has been pulling us inexorably toward its center, piling on these tired bodies, pulling us downward, trying to hold us underwater. It is time to rise up and push back against this force – to declare it has not won – to declare your freedom from the restraints of fear and worry. So today, I face this black hole and call it out for what it is – an agent of ruin of otherwise fine lives. Today I stand up to this oppressive force and on behalf of us all, I bid it adieu – be gone you. Isabelle has painted it, and now we all need to look at it and say yep – that’s where I have been, but I have survived so far. I have taken your best shot and I am still here and upright – beat up but okay. So let’s take a collective breath, and with humility and gratitude, welcome March of 2021 in the hope that it will bring forth the spring and a bit more brightness than the last eleven months have provided. It is too early to declare victory but not too soon to feel better, to feel some relief, to find ways to enjoy this wonderful gift of life. So be safe and be grateful. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 345
March 1, 2021 Hello to you out there who no longer are campers, for camp has been in session much too long. The freeze shut down camp, and we are counting the days until spring. Yesterday I received two pictures from La Salle County (between San Antonio and Laredo) of flowers that were poking up out of the ground – a purple verbena-looking flower and a larger orange flower that seemed to spring from some type of cactus. And if you doubted it – let me assure you - I am ready for spring. Today it was 80 degrees, and it felt good. The days are getting a bit longer. Daylight savings time is about two weeks away. The nights are warmer. And while I’m sure we will have more cold fronts, I feel spring coming. Last week I was working at my desk inside my home here in Houston and heard a bird singing through the walls and closed windows and doors. I went outside and there in the top of tree just inside my fence was a beautiful bright red cardinal singing at top volume, a scene repeated again up in the Hill Country this weekend. We went to our place up there Thursday night to check out our rock home up there and thankfully everything inside is functioning. Our water well pipe busted but our neighbor had shut the well power off and it stopped leaking. We have a rainwater collection and distribution system and I am happy to report that it is working great. It is nice when the system we put in for conservation reasons outperforms the old system that it replaced. Reassuring at a time when reassurance was appreciated. We did lose a huge old cedar that had several trunks emerging from the ground; it simply split apart with the weight of the ice and snow I guess, popping a huge rock out of the ground when it went. The power of nature is amazing – awe inspiring – humility inspiring. So come now spring – bring your storms – bring your unpredictability - but most of all – bring forth life in nature and in me. Stay safe. And keep watch for those signs of spring. They will reveal themselves. Again, with spirit. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 344
February 28, 2021 Good morning. I agree with Garland. I am feeling more and more like a survivor of some severe event, and I have been hearing from many of you about how beat up you feel – a bit of fear – but mainly just tired. It has been a long hard run from Covid and more recently through the freeze and it is by no means over. Hang in there. February is almost gone, and I will be glad to see it go. Today is about the spiritual – a subject I thoroughly enjoy. Today’s spiritual immersion comes via Carla Pryne, a person I consider as a spiritual guide. Carla recently wrote to Isabelle and me about her experience with bees which we have tried to capture and relay, at least in part, in this poem. I met Carla when I was working many years ago with two of my favorite people in the world – Fred Baldwin and Wendy Watriss – and we decided to put on a conference about water – all aspects of water. We had heard about this Episcopal priest up in Washington State who was with Earth Ministries, so we invited Carla down. That water conference generally and getting to hear of the Earth from a Christian minister’s perspective, were truly wonderful happenings that were transformative in my thinking, pieces of which I have shared with you over these many days of the vigil. I remember Carla speaking of water and spirituality and during the presentation which was steeped in humility and reverence for nature, she poured some water from a pitcher and let it flow and it all became magical – totally spiritual – in that moment. And later that night, I took Carla to see the Houston Ship Channel and we were crossing the Beltway 8 bridge over the channel and several flares were going off - it was all lit up with tongues of fire – dragonlike – and Carla looked at me and said, “why that’s what hell must look like”. Hell indeed, where flares spit fire like dragons. At any rate, today’s painting and poem are dedicated to Carla with best wishes from artist and poet and with my thanks for helping me feel comfortable swimming in the spiritual. And a big shout out to Fred and Wendy. I can hardly wait to see friends like them again. Stay safe and connected. With spirit. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 343
February 27, 2021 Good morning campers – or perhaps survivors. We have traveled far together, but it is nothing compared to the trip of the red knot, a lovely shorebird whose migration feats are simply Herculean. What an amazing bird, and it is not alone, but it is well known. From the Arctic down to Tierra Del Fuego – 10,000 or so miles – and back again. What a trip – one that is timed to catch the horseshoe crabs laying their eggs in Delaware Bay – a place where the red knot loads up on protein in late May to get the strength for its final push. Over eons, the migration of the red knot has been timed to find stops along the way to fuel up – migration being a solution to survival aided and abetted by the life cycles of other species – key intersections – life-saving intersections that become habit, that become practice. When life seems hard and you find yourself deep in a pit, I have found relief in thinking about the immense courage that is required for the red knot’s trip from the top of the planet to the bottom and back again, or in thinking of the fear of a hummingbird or a bunting setting off from the Yucatan Peninsula to cross the Gulf of Mexico to arrive on the Texas coast – something I hope to see many times this spring. Action in the face of fear defines life and living. You just have to do it. There is so much to learn from nature – so much to admire in nature – so much to celebrate when we visit the Church of the Earth. So stay safe so we can enjoy the spring migration together. February is thankfully moving on. March is coming. Hope is on the horizon. Hallelujah, kiss the ground and invite spring to come on in. Stay safe. Stay connected. With love in my heart. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 342
February 26, 2021 Hello out there. Garland is telling me she wants to move on from being a camper. She is feeling more like a survivor these days, and I have to admit, the year since we returned from Egypt has seemed a bit like a siege. So maybe we are not so much campers in Camp Hideaway anymore but rather survivors (knock on wood) relearning how to live our lives. Who of you out there honestly thought 500,000 people would die from Covid in the last year. Whew. I mentioned the other day that we were at the end of an era, and I think that this is another way that statement is true. This virus, or some new variant, is likely to be with us going forward. We are learning – and will learn – to live with it, but we will likely never quite return to where we were before the virus. So stay alert. Wear a mask. Get vaccinated and likely vaccinated again. And so it will go. On a lighter note, our artist today has given us a new form of painting done with a coffee filter that was placed on a paper towel after making coffee and removing the grounds. That formed the outline of the tree cross-section that is featured in today’s poem, and then she came back behind the coffee part of the painting and painted in the tree rings. So today’s poem is about tree rings and gratefulness, something we “survivors” should take to heart. Every day is a gift. We should never forget that. Survival is day to day, never to be taken for granted as I think it perhaps was before Covid. Our responsibility is to enjoy this gift of another day – to live it to the fullest – and perhaps do a little good for others along the way. Stay alert. Stay connected. And survive. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 341
February 25, 2021 Good morning campers. Once again we gather to connect with each other – trying to sustain during what has been a hard time. About this time a year ago, Garland and I and Isabelle and John and friends Bubba and Shelly were on our way to Egypt. We had heard about the virus before we left, enough so that we went to the woodworking section at Home Depot where we bought several masks we found there. But I shudder to think how clueless we were about what was going on. I can remember going through the airport in Istanbul and seeing that the flights to Tehran had been cancelled. We had just heard that in addition to China, Iran was a hotspot, and then Italy. We were luckily on a tour with the Museum of Natural Science and were relatively removed from other tours so we made it through the trip with no problems. I can remember flying back from Cairo through Istanbul. The Turks checked us out – asking questions - even though we were just connecting to a flight back to the U.S. and never cleared customs. We got to the U.S. and no one asked us much of anything coming through customs. Just waived us through. I have to admit – I almost kissed the ground I was so relieved to be back. Isabelle and JC went on to Jordan and came back a few days later. And then WHAM - everything was shut down. What a memory. And the vigil started about a few weeks later on March 22, and you know the rest. So today let’s celebrate connections – the lines that link us. They are important. Make sure you are connected. Make sure you are safe. By the way, I have also included a short press release about a nice ruling yesterday before the Texas Commission on Environmental Quality (TCEQ) regarding our fight with Steel Dynamics over the discharge into Chiltipin Creek. The TCEQ turned down Steel Dynamics’s request to start early construction on their wastewater treatment plant before the permit had been issued. The steel plant continues under construction but the wastewater plant cannot begin (or continue) construction. Hats off to the TCEQ Commissioners. By a 2-1 vote they did the right thing and sent a message that this steel giant needs to follow the rules of Texas like everyone else. And now – for a gentle poem about the cottontail, for it’s really all about understanding and protecting Earth. Blackburn. | ||||
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DAY 340
February 24, 2021 Well campers, as if we did not have enough dances – the badger sway, the tortoise trot (or perhaps two step) and the woodcock strut – we now add another – the penguin shuffle. We are going to really be sharp when we come together. We’ll need a dance leader volunteer to demonstrate all these moves. Volunteers? Who will step up to lead us in our time of crisis. We need someone with a little rhythm in their joints. So volunteers – speak up. Or perhaps you could make a video of your interpretation of the badger sway (sort of hunched over, shoulders and arms swaying back and forth), or the tortoise trot (slowly lift one foot up and put it down, then slowly pick up the one on the other side), or the woodcock shuffle (stutter step, stutter step, shake your fanny) and now the penguin shuffle (foot shuffling forward one after the other as the arms extended outward move with each shuffle). Now come on – I know there is some talent out there. And know this – we all will do these dances when we meet, so the sooner you get your hesitation out of the way, the sooner we can meet and enjoy each other. So put a big smile on your face and hitch in your step and get with it, campers. And while you are at it, let someone know you are dancing on your own trying to imitate a woodcock. That may enhance your connectivity as someone may feel the need to come and check on you. More on this dance party later. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 339
February 22, 2021 Hello campers. Welcome to the radical center – a place of action, a place in the middle, a place for many who don’t like the way things are unfolding these days. I wrote and asked Isabelle for a painting of the radical center and the painting above is what she sent with the following reasoning – the person is purple which is a combination of red and blue, the person is centered in concentric circles, the heart and brain are both displayed and the background colors are brown and green – of the Earth. She also noted that she made the person female rather than male because it has always been males. And the person has sparkles which connote the miracle of people working together. Great work Isabelle. Now – the radical center is a concept that intrigues me. I think many people that I know are in favor of ecology and economy being considered together, but to seriously combine those two and add a healthy dose of care and concern for others probably should not be – but is - a radical concept. If seriously adopted, those three principles would transform the U.S. economy, give us an Earth connection and help care for all beings. It could be achieved. It should be achieved. Several of you suggested that we need one or more new political parties. This could be it. I think this is also a spirituality-based coalition centered on the Earth (e.g. like Earth Church). I first heard of the concept of the radical center talking about ranching and soil carbon with members of a group called the Quivira Coalition in Santa Fe, New Mexico, and the idea has stuck with me now for a few years. So – let me know what you think about this concept and whether you want to be in on the ground floor of this new radical center movement. There’s a space here for you. And don’t forget to be safe and protect yourself and stay connected – always stay connected - if just to me and Isabella. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 338
February 21, 2021 Good morning campers. Happy Day 338. Today our artist has brought you the pomegranate, the symbol of a new beginning, of rebirth. This story dates back to mythology which I had to look up as I am not nearly as up on my mythology as is our artist. You see, I wrote Isabelle and asked for a painting about “new beginnings” because that is a topic that is seriously on my mind these days relative to our economy, ecology, sustainability and spirituality as well as the virus and now recovery from the freeze. In a larger sense, we have come to the end of an era, and we are on the brink of the next one. We are at a very important moment in time, although it is often hard to know when you are really living in important times, but I truly think that we are. We have a really interesting path ahead of us if we can find the will – the heart and spirit as well as the intelligence and the brain – to make it all happen. Tomorrow I hope to bring you a poem about the radical center, another topic that Isabelle came through for me on with a most creative painting, but this pomegranate as a symbol for a new beginning is great. So when we gather to dance and celebrate our détente with, if not victory over, the virus, perhaps in June, we can also eat a whole lot of pomegranate seeds and be full of new beginnings. But until détente or victory, be careful out there. Covid is in retreat but very active still and mutating just as fast as it can. So – stay safe and stay connected and look for the chance for new beginnings. They will come. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 337
February 20, 2021 Hello campers. Let’s go visit a wetland today and take a break from the weather disaster, although I have more to come. Wetlands are such wonderful places – places that in many ways escape humans. If it’s a lake or a bay, humans put boats in them. If it’s land, we mow it or build on it or plant it or do something to it. But wetlands – well that’s a bit of a different matter. I think wetlands are among the most hated Earth forms because they are foreboding to humans. Freshwater wetlands are places of snakes and alligators and nasty little green slimy vegetation that makes walking hard. And saltwater wetlands – well – if you have ever walked in a salt marsh, you know how difficult pulling your foot out of the muck can be. But of course I love wetlands and there are some tricks to enjoying them. One is a boardwalk. What a lovely invention that allows you to walk above the water and that dainty green vegetation which when seen from a safe spot looking down is intricate and lovely. And the other invention is the kayak, which totally transformed the Texas coast for me. And I will admit to enjoying walking in the marsh, but we often laughed about the death march through the muck, but it is not a death march with the kayak but rather a lovely glide into and through the marsh grass on high tide with shrimp and finger mullet jumping to the side. Simply lovely. And a couple of weekends ago, John Chapman and Garland and Isabelle and I went to visit Cullinan Park over in Sugarland, a park that has long been a passion of my friend Ann Hamilton and now I know why. What a lovely spot. So here is a tribute to this lovely wetland park and the Cullinan family – the stewards who set this land aside decades ago. And don’t forget about Covid and staying connected. It’s important. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 336
February 20, 2021 Good morning campers. Today I’m writing about passion – about feeling strongly about something, anything really, but feeling it deep inside where it stirs up something primal, something basic, something sacred to your soul. And my passion has been stirred by the great Texas freeze, yet another stupid screw-up. For many years I numbed myself because it hurt to feel, because I could not own my feelings and live with them. Today, I welcome passion into my personal and professional life – into the virus vigil. Passion – and feeling passion – is wonderful. It is a gift that comes with living and this is about living life. So if you are feeling a bit angry at ERCOT, own that passion. If you truly care for someone, own that passion. If you love our lovely birds with sometimes difficult patterns to distinguish one from another, enjoy it to the fullest. When Isabelle emailed the red passion flower to me, I was not sure what to do with it, but then after these last two days of ranting, it became clear. I should own that red passion flower like a red badge of courage and so I will wear it and own it today. Be careful out there, get vaccinated, and reach out and stay connected. With love and lots of passion for all you out there enjoying these wonderful paintings and my efforts at poetry. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 335
February 19, 2021 Hello campers. Day 335 and time keeps moving on. I am tired of the cold. I don’t like ERCOT. I want to join the national grid, but you have heard all of that before. I am tired of good ole boys running this state like a private plantation, screwing people right, left and center and not caring about it one way or the other because there are no consequences. Just keep the money flowing to the right people, and we are all good here in Texas, even if we freeze some poor souls who depended upon the State to help them. Well I’ve had enough – enough of hubris – enough of arrogance – enough of greed, and we have a pot load of each of these things right here in our backyard. I am tired of religions that enable hate. I am tired of our failure to realize that there are limits – limits to acceptable behavior, limits to how we treat the Earth. All of these failures are basically the same flaws – overblown self-importance, arrogance, disdain of science, disdain of fair play, disdain of limits. If you lose an election, claim fraud and attack Congress. Why not? We need a plan of response. I would love to hear from you about what you think we should do. Isabelle and I started this vigil to communicate with you all out there, and in the midst of this concern about the virus we have had the claims of election fraud and the attack on Congress and now the Texas freeze. Our needs are great. For me there is Earth Church. It heals my wounds but not society’s wounds. In the meantime, we do need to worry about the virus. Stay vigilant, stay connected and stay awake to the threats that are out there – the actual Covid virus and human viruses included. But enough ranting. Enjoy this poem about limits. And at the risk of adding a little levity, we could add the tortoise trot to the badger sway and the woodcock strut to be performed in June (maybe), led by this wonderful image of the tortoise slowly trotting in tortoise time (which is slow – we all can do this one). Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 334
February 18, 2021 Brrrrrr. It’s has been very cold in our home these last few days – cold because we did not have electricity. And I must say that it was a wonderful moment when it came back on. Gratitude. Definitely grateful. But coming on the heels of gratitude are many questions. You and I both want to know why we not have electricity? And my answer - because we have a system that is driven by greed rather than by protection of the electrical consumer. We do not truly regulate our electrical utilities in Texas. A regulated utility would have to plan for these “worst case” events – events that are happening more often these days. They would be required to have natural gas contracts that provide for more than enough supply for these very cold events, even if they do not need all that they have contracted for, and the regulated utility would be guaranteed a fair return on their investment, not some huge profit as was being made and is being made during this freeze. CNN had a headline yesterday that claimed that Texas utility spot prices were up 10,000%. That is right, and it happens during the summer as well. As peak demand rises, producers bring reserved capacity on the market if they have it. Some simply did not have enough natural gas contracted for the demand, again something they are allowed to do without regulation. Without regulatory oversight, we built wind farms without heaters on the blades. Sure – it is a rare event that leads to ice on the blades, but this is the time of climate change and rare events are becoming the norm with this record-setting cold being linked to polar vortex and a jet stream that dipped very low from normal, a similarity to conditions leading to superstorm Sandy that hit the East Coast according to some climate experts I work with. Texas and ERCOT need to change. In this time of extraordinary challenges, we Texans need to ask for help and we need to help ourselves. I believe we need to be connected with the national grid. My sister over in Beaumont never lost power, but that system is not part of ERCOT but rather the Eastern Interconnect system. I have heard from some of my associates whose temperatures inside their apartments fell into the 30s. If this happened to them, I am sure that many of the poor and the elderly suffered temperatures into the twenties inside their homes. This is a big deal. This is a bad deal. We can and must do better. So of course I had to write a poem about the freeze after our chilly artist managed to keep the cold trembles under control enough to make magic with the paintbrush once again. So – enjoy this rant about the freeze and let’s get rid of ERCOT and regulate electricity like the utility that it is. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 333
February 17, 2021 Hello campers. Day 333. Garland and I and Isabelle and John are still without power, so I am sending this out from my law office about twenty blocks to the east which has power. At our home, we have been without power for almost 48 hours. And although it has gotten above freezing outside, it is due to go below freezing again tonight (I think) and particularly Thursday night. It was 49 degrees inside our home last night. We slept fine but this should not be happening. This is a real mess. I am already tired of hearing about the failure of wind energy. Apparently about 1/3 of the outage is due to wind freezing up ( we apparently did not install heaters on the turbine blades and they built up with ice and can’t generate power). However, the other 2/3 seems to be due to natural gas either not getting to the power plants or internal problems at the plants. Not sure how much, if any, of that 2/3 is coal. Apparently the two nukes are functioning from what I have read. I knew that ERCOT was separate from the rest of the nation. I always thought that was a bit risky strategically, but it seems to be a lot riskier than I realized. I hope we will all put aside casting blame and start fixing this problem, for it is serious. And I think it is only one example of how we have put aside dealing with important problems as we squabbled about things that are totally unimportant compared to the quality and condition of our grid, as well as Covid-related stuff and ultimately climate change-related stuff, all of which are life and death stuffs. But enough of that. I value finding positives, and I had this poem up and ready to go, so let’s all think about dancing like a woodcock. I have already issued a challenge when we come together in a virus vigil live function (maybe in June) for all of us to do the Badger Sway. Well, now, let’s add the Woodcock Strut to the list of dances to be danced at this vigil function. Check out this link. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aB9DC9orYaM&feature=youtu.be. Now – stay warm, stay safe, stay connected. Until tomorrow when I hope I have power. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 332
February 16, 2021 Hello campers. Well, Texas – we have a problem. It took 332 days for the vigilantes to discover that our grid could not handle a really hard freeze across the state. However, the vigil is coming to you by hook or crook, albeit late today, because we have no electricity at our home – have not had since about 6 p.m. yesterday. We are webcasting remotely from Rice University where all power is on and the wifi works, so the vigil remains vigilant. And while today’s poem is a rather nice one about living life, I have nothing but scorn for those supposedly in charge in Austin. What a mess. It is time that the Texas Legislature got serious about protecting Texans and quit fooling around with this fake voter fraud stuff. We simply should not put up with it. And I’m talking to Republicans right now. Democrats have many problems, but chasing down fake voter fraud is not one of them. We need our Texas Legislature to figure out what happened here and get on it. You cannot have a world-class business community and an undependable electrical grid. On the other hand, it does argue for diversity of generation sources if the bits and pieces which I have heard so far can be believed. I have heard of wind farms freezing up – but we have them in the midwestern U.S. – that doesn’t make sense. And I have heard that a nuke went down, but Nukes operate all the time in cold weather. So – who knows. I am sure we will be learning more as we go on, but 2021 has gone downhill fast, although there seems to be at least some good news on the Covid front. Stay safe, and I will try to get wifi service sometime tomorrow to continue us on our way on the virus vigil. And stay connected while you try to stay warm. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 331
February 15, 2020 Hello all. Day 331. Today we are following up on the mascot theme, and I have picked on the Black Footed Ferret to have fun with today. As best as I can tell, there is no team named for the Ferret, although it’s really not a bad choice. Just look at the fierce face on that fellow. I am not sure I would want to face one compared to a fighting cardinal, but the bottom line is – the ferret didn’t make it. Now a lot of really bad choices and funny choices did make it over the finish line and into today’s poem. And there are certainly some good ones that did not make it into the poem. One of the best responses I received was from Vigilante Sue who decided that we needed to name teams after various species of cactus. She came up with several - Pearland Prickly Pears, Sealy Saguaros, Port Aransas Pincushions and the Galveston Fishhooks – good creative thinking. And several of the entries in the poem come from professional baseball’s minor leagues where they have some really great names for teams. Some of the names that did not make the poem include the (Lehigh Valley) IronPigs, the (Nashville) Sounds, the (Sugarland) Skeeters, the (Wichita) Wind Surge, the (Binghamton) Rumble Ponies, and the (Akron) RubberDucks. So enjoy the mascot tribute and take care of yourselves out there. Covid is mutating. As we get vaccines and get smarter, that ole virus is changing. So maintain your focus. And stay connected. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 330
February 14, 2021 Happy Valentine’s day. I am off to a bit of a late start this morning. Bed was feeling pretty nice this morning. Hope all are good today – a day of appreciation of those who are important to us in a special kind of way – a day of expression of love. On one level, I hate days dedicated to particular sentiments. These are feelings we should have every day. But it is nice to be remembered, if by official edict. Being grateful for others – gratitude – is a wonderful internal feeling. It helps me be a better person. It is something I remind myself to be. But it is also important to let someone else know that they are important. And all of you have become very important to Isabelle and myself. So enjoy this Valentine from Isabelle and me and be safe out there. And by the way, Isabelle and I will be setting up a Zoom for those of you out there in virus vigil receivingland. We will be discussing the vigil, Isabelle’s paintings and I will read some poems and just generally revisit this whole adventure we have been on. Coming in a couple of weeks. I need to determine how many of you we can accommodate on my professional zoom account at the office. We will see. Stay tuned. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 329
February 13, 2021 Hello campers. It’s time to hit the dusty trail down memory lane. I must admit I hit a geyser with the poem and inquiry about mascots. I got a great response, and I am working on weaving them into a poem. Might take a day or two. Maybe Monday or Tuesday, but it should be entertaining. And speaking of mascots, how about this one? The Texas Longhorn. Bevo to Texas fans and enemies alike, a well-known mascot. At U.T., I was fortunate to be elected into Silver Spurs men’s honorary organization, a nice honor. The Spurs were in charge of Bevo, and we would take turns holding the reins during a football game, making sure he was seen in the end zone and around the field. That was fun, but I will now admit that I was not all that fond of that big critter. We would take Bevo on campus and let students come up and take their picture with him. Jack’s party pictures was standing by, and we would hold our breath every time some student wanted to get real close to Bevo. We would hold the reins tight to try to hold his head in place, hold onto the horns when necessary, and it was invariably a young woman who would get Bevo out of sorts, and he would start moving his head up and down and sideways. Those big horns cover a lot of airspace, and we would hold our breath. Never had a tragedy, but . . . And then there was the time at the TCU game at Amon Carter field. I was not there but as the story goes, the entrance to the field was very steep, and they decided to walk Bevo down a concrete incline to have him on the field for the game. Well, Bevo’s hooves started sliding on the concrete and he got all excited and hit the field with four spurs running with him as fast as they could as he headed straight for the TCU bench, players scrambling aside. Another could-have-been disaster. But today as you will see in the poem, my view of the Longhorn has changed, or perhaps evolved. In the meantime, consider yourself connected today and stay safe. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 328
February 12, 2021 Hello campers. On this start of our coldest weather week of the winter, let’s consider mascots. The other day, Garland was telling me about a friend’s granddaughter Elliott whose softball team – the cobras – was playing the anacondas. Now there is an image. Those sweet little ten-year old cobras out there fighting it out against the anacondas. Now that made us both chuckle. But it also got me to thinking about mascots – the names and the larger message behind the use of animal names. I like the owl that Rice has, particularly the images on campus these days that show several small owls with masks. Great message, great image. I would love for a team to be named the chupacabras. Now that would really scare the opposition. Or how about the weasels? What a great town image. And I’ve never heard of the toads or the tree frogs. The University of California Santa Cruz mascot is the Banana Slug. Now that is a more Earthy image, but it is California. I want to hear from you out there about the animal mascots of either the schools you went to or have heard about. In high school I was a defensive tackle and offensive guard for the “Fightin’ Cardinals”, led to battle by a big Paper Mache’ cardinal named Big Red. Today it seems that “fighting” is a bit of a mischaracterization of a cardinal, although I will say our fighting football team didn’t fight all that well in my tenure at Harlingen High School. Perhaps if we had been the chupacabras. . . or the cobras. Tomorrow you will hear tales about the Texas Longhorn, another of my school mascots. So – let me hear about some mascots. And by all means, keep connected. Track down a vaccine if you can. Wear double masks, it seems. And stay safe. And by the way, kudos to Isabelle for today’s painting. I wrote her a few days back and told her about the idea and she has delivered the perfect painting to go with this. Inquiring minds want to know – how many book covers does she have that she can find the perfect one? Blackburn | ||
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DAY 327
February 11, 2021 Camp Hideaway. Day 327. Dear Diary. Today I am using one of the images that I tucked away at the beginning of this virus vigil to save for a time when I might not have another poem or painting to call upon. At that point in the early days of this connectivity diary, I was thinking that we might be in for three months of the virus or so. I never considered that we would be at Day 327 and counting. This has to go down as one of the greatest public health failures of all time. I look back to the start of this vigil and am amazed at how naïve we were. Garland and I started watching an HBO movie last night called “Locked In” and it’s a movie set after the virus caused the lockdown of London. The point is that movies are starting to come out about what we have been experiencing – a funny movie in a frantic, horrified sort of way – the way that we all are. So Diary – I felt the need today to wrap myself in the beauty – the love – that comes with Earth Church – and the warmth of June in the Texas Hill Country with bone-chilling weather heading our way. I zoom with people in North Dakota about carbon and I know that I have nothing to complain about compared to the cold that they experience, yet I don’t look forward to this weekend, and find relief with the thought that this may be the last of the really cold weather. That’s it for today. Tomorrow I’ll try to find something a bit different for a diary entry. The art keeps coming my direction so I’ll go back to the keyboard and see where the muse takes me. Until tomorrow. And for those of you reading this diary, be safe. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 326
February 10, 2021 Hello campers. Grateful and humble are important words for today, so today we are reliving a bit of my past, a path I retrace every so often to remind me to be grateful about who and what I am today. So today I write about being young and stupid, full of myself. And I really think I had to go through those times to emerge where I am today. It was a bit like trying to ride the crest of a wave that never breaks – flying high, listening to the Eagles singing “Life in the Fast Lane”. But of course the wave does break. I really started living life – I mean really getting it - after spending some time on the bottom-side of the wave. That’s when I quit drinking because I just can’t drink. Some can. I can’t. And to help me through (in addition to Garland), I turned to the Earth and found Earth Church, first on the shores of Galveston Bay and then Christmas Bay and then the whole coast and then anywhere there was nature, eventually just out the door. I am, therefore I am. The Earth is, therefore I am. Without the Earth, I am not. Without the Earth, we are not. Humility and gratitude became key words and are the words for today. So back to today - as I was contemplating this poem and these intro words, my friend Jeff Mundy sent me an image (see below) that he found on Facebook somewhere. Go ahead – tell me that it was coincidence - tell me there is no connectuality after reading the inscription on what he sent. I must admit – it made my day yesterday. And as always, do your best to stay safe. Reach out and touch someone figuratively if not literally. Stay connected. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 325
February 9, 2021 Hello campers. The old camp counselor is feeling perky today. Yesterday I visited a ranch in Chambers County that I have written of before as well as Anahuac National Wildlife Refuge, and it was a day of ducks. Ducks everywhere. Shovelers, with their beautiful green heads and orange and white bodies. Pintails with the sleek lines, blue wing teal with the crescent moon on their heads, ringed necked ducks with the bill with the white lining. But yesterday, nothing compared to the cinnamon teal, a gorgeous sight in the late morning sun. Really nice. And then, there must have been at least a hundred roseate spoonbills on a levee, tucked down beneath the wind that was blowing hard in off the bay, a day of Earth Church celebration, a day of humility for the splendor of nature, a day of gratitude that I was alive yesterday to see these wondrous sights once again, flights of ducks rising before the airboat later in the day, waves of them coming off the water, only to set right down again, a hundred or more white pelicans, a few brown ones and the occasional redfish splashing ahead. My kind of day. In the meantime, take care with Covid and stay connected. Ask for help if you need it. Help someone if you can. Send out a bit of love. It doesn’t hurt you to do it and it might be received by someone in need. And there are many in need. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 324
February 8, 2021 Hello campers. Happy Monday. Today we are contemplating the heart and art. According to Isabelle, “My father was a man of his heart in the way he interacted with people and nature. He was also a healer of hearts in his medical practice.” My father was also a man with a huge heart – full of love for others, full of love for life. We both benefitted from having loving fathers who were neat men. I am proud to have inherited a part of that great-hearted man. We all benefit from large hearts. But we also need a brain, for together, a fine-tuned heart-brain connection is a wonderful thing. So today’s poem is a tribute to heart and to fathers with great hearts but also to the need for balance – to live our lives with both heart and brain. And by all means, use your brain about the virus. It is waning again but mutating. Get vaccinated if you can. Wear your mask. Be safe. I do feel that we are getting closer every day. Let’s keep moving in the right direction. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 323
February 7, 2021 Hello campers. Hope you are doing well today. Today we are going to meet and enjoy the flounder. The flounder is a great recreational fish on the coast and is also fine eating if you can find a restaurant that still serves flounder as the preparation time for a broiled flounder can take a while. When we first moved to Houston, there were many restaurants that served flounder, and one of the best was Zorba the Greek, a wonderful little hole in the wall east of Montrose I vaguely remember. And Garland and I were driving in from Sugarland on highway 90A yesterday and talking about the seafood restaurants that used to be on South Main – Kaphan’s and Bill Williams (maybe). I see a big shrimp above a large one story rectangular building. And then there was the time at the beginning of the Galveston Bay Foundation when we held our first ever press conference on South Main in the parking lot of one of these seafood restaurants. I think we were opposing the open bay disposal of dredge material from widening the Houston ship channel and were concerned about the impact of that disposal on seafood production. There were several of us and we erected a table in the parking lot and put shrimp and oysters and some fish on a folding table and asked the press to come. And when we started the press conference, we realized that we were in an area where 18 wheelers were driving by and going through the gears as they gained speed. We were basically drowned out by noise from the 18 wheelers. But there was a lot of hope and optimism in that press conference and that carried us through, which is a good message to take with you today. Hope and optimism are great things. Enjoy the flounder and be safe. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 322
February 8, 2021 Hello campers. Well, your old counselor feeling a bit more up today, winter be damned. The hope of the redbud, which will be featured soon, has shown up to cheer me up. Yippee. And then I got a message from one of you readers inquiring about the cognitive ability of a bird. Now that is a heavy topic. And then I was looking through some of the images that Isabelle had sent and I had put away for lack of a poetic thought and I brought up from the “unused paintings” bin this one titled “Bird Brain”. With this image, I could have gone many different directions, but I was provided with insight as to direction from this reader who wanted to know why birds flock (protection), why they pair up (why do humans?) and how the 26 species of sparrows can tell their species from the others (they don’t have mirrors – a real mystery). So rather than researching and trying to be a responsible correspondent, I just tossed it all into a light-hearted fun poem to go with the fanciful, wonderful image by Isabelle. Be safe and spread a little love out there. It is needed. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 321
February 5, 2021 Hello campers. It’s your counselor. Here to tell you. You’re spectacular. You’re connected. You’re protected. Stick with us. Covid’ll be tuckered. It will give up, and you will be up. Now what else can I do for you? That was a different beginning after 320 days. The pool of creativity is running shallow these days. Isabelle and I need some rain in our creative bowl. So maybe a couple of you out there can do a rain dance for us. A shower would be nice, but now a thunderstorm would really be appreciated. Toss in a bit of lightning. Let’s get some electricity flying around so dance away campers, dance away. Don’t be shy. Get in the backyard and whoop it up. We’ll feel it. Connectivity works that way. And for now, I’m counting the days until spring springs upon us. Take care, stay connected and be safe. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 320
February 4, 2021 Hello all. Welcome to Day 320. Today we are celebrating the diversity that we find in an ecosystem and the importance of diversity and equity issues in society. An ecosystem that lacks diversity is a fragile one – one that is out of balance. We need diversity of plants to withstand drought, we need predators to keep prey in balance. I know that this is the case with natural ecosystems, and I believe it is true with human social systems as well. I am becoming more and more aware of the inequities that exist in our social systems – the neighborhoods in northeast Houston that are not well-served for drainage, for waste disposal, for water and sewage – and how these inequities are destructive of the larger concept of community. And then there is the hatred that we see expressed on a daily basis on the internet, on the news, storming the capitol. Our soil carbon project at Baker Institute is exploring how to bring greater equity of participation to our carbon storage market, and we are finding some very interesting approaches. The bottom line is that systemic racial problems exist in our society and need to be resolved. They are simply unacceptable. Where I see racism being pursued through religion, it is all the more objectionable to me. To this day I have not forgotten that my father worked with an Hispanic man in South Texas who was interested in coming to the Baptist Church. So my father went and talked the preacher of our church about bringing this man to our church and was told to send him to the mission on the other side of town – that there was no place for him in our church. This is one of the images that made it easy for me to leave that concept of spirituality behind. Changes – a hard word - are necessary to make our society fair and just. These changes will improve the quality of life for us all. It will improve us all as humans. And now, I invite you to read a poem about balance, diversity and equity to go with this wonderful piece of art by Isabelle. And be safe out there. Covid is evolving. Mask up. Stay distant, but of course, stay connected, and with that contradiction as the sun rises on a new day, have a good day. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 319
February 3, 2021 Hello campers. Garland and I saw the new Tom Hanks movie – The News of the Day – about a week ago and then Isabelle’s painting of the buffalo arrived. In that movie, there was a scene that included a group of buffalo hunters and the piled buffalo carcasses left behind after removal of their hides. Seeing the movie – Isabelle’s painting arrives without us planning it - how about that for coincidence (do you believe in it?). I see that scene and then the painting arrives (start the sci fi music). It had been years since I thought about the buffalo hunters or rather the buffalo killers. It was such an unnecessary act of destruction, unless you believe that it was a strategy to defeat the natives by starvation, in which case it becomes much more objectionable, but perhaps closer to the truth. I work hard to find a higher path – to look for the good in people – to work the seams to try to find the pathways to workable solutions, but every now and then, we need to take a cold hard look. The January 6 capitol attack was such a recent moment. But today – let’s look back and take a cold hard look at the fate of the buffalo. And as you do, stay safe and stay connected. On the up side (as I need balance), I can truly say that these morning messages contain warmth from my keyboard and from Isabelle’s paintbrush to your hearts and souls. We have come to care very much for all of you and what this virus vigil has come to represent – love for others, love for nature. Take care. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 318
February 2, 2021 Hello campers. Day 318. I am back in Houston after a wonderful weekend in the Hill Country. You have already heard about the wolf moon, but there is more. The robins were everywhere. Wonderful flocks of the robins, feeding back in the shadows of the oaks and junipers, hopping around, flying for fifty feet and setting down again, and then a large wave would fly over with their characteristic sound flowing on the crisp north wind, red breast and dark head and wings stark against a blue sky without a single cloud anywhere, an image that stayed for most of the weekend. And it was quiet except for the birds and coyotes, really quiet, silent night and silent day, over again and again. That may be the biggest contrast with the city – the absence of noise. How nice it is hear the raven cawing that he wants to talk with me, to hear the shriek of the hawk and screech of the scrub jay as he flies over his domain, the beautiful song of the wren, the grousing of the chickadee. A group of my advisors giving me an earful, and I am richer for the conversation. Nice weekend. Oh – by the way – the Houston Seminar is having a series of programs on water and Houston. They cost $25 apiece. I and Eric Berger, an excellent meteorologist and storm analyst, will start the series off on Thursday night. Please see the PDF document attached for further information. You might like it. And of course, be safe out there. Covid still lurks and remember to stay connected as best you can. Until Day 319. Blackburn. | ||||
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DAY 317
February 1, 2021 Welcome campers. Day 317 and camp is in session. Today we are greeting and howling at the wolf moon, the full moon of January, what I consider a transitional moon as the days have been and will continue to be longer. We are moving towards spring. I was in Wimberley this weekend and it seemed like the birds are getting a bit of romance in their outlook with some male cardinals looking really sharp and some lovely singing going on. There also were several flocks of lesser goldfinch, with some really bright yellow and black males. Good stuff. And as I write in today’s poem, our local lesser wolves – the coyotes – sang for me and Garland, a really nice live music event. There are likely no wolves left in Texas. The red wolf used to be on the Texas coast and I believe that red wolf-coyote hybrids have been identified on Galveston Island, a fact that I will be checking with my Galveston correspondents. There was also once a grey wolf – the Mexican wolf – that roamed Texas, New Mexico and Arizona but the last of these wolves were killed in 1970 in the Big Bend area. So no more pure wolves in Texas, but if you had been with us in Wimberley on January 28th, you would have believed that you were surrounded by them. Perhaps I should have written the poem about “Ain’t No More Wolves in Texas”, like the old prison work song “Ain’t No More Cane on the Brazos”. Perhaps another time. Be safe and stay connected. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 316
January 31, 2021 Hello campers. Welcome to graduate school in Earth Church. The artist suggested that love or even acceptance of the cockroach requires a PhD in Earth Church. And I have to agree that it is hard to embrace the cockroach, although I have an admiration for it as a survivor. But there is another side of the cockroach – being labeled as one - which is derogatory, to say the least. So I set out to write a poem about cockroach politicians. But then a situation arose where it became clear to me that all of us – myself included - can fall into the cockroach class by our actions. We all make mistakes, and recovery from mistakes – even one that puts you in the cockroach class for a while if not forever– is important. Hubris – excessive pride – full of yourself – is not good. On the other hand, humility is one of the most important keys to living, I believe. Humility includes recognizing that one is not always in the right, however hard that admission may be. So rather than razzing cockroach politicians (and there are more than a few), I fell into the same pot with them, and I’m crawling out as fast as I can. So the message for today - don’t get so carried away with your own stuff that you forget about others and their feelings, and if you do, own it and try to make amends. Be safe out there and stay connected. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 315
January 30, 2021 Hello campers from up here in the Hill Country. I slept a bit later this morning. It’s been really pretty for the last day or two. It was great to teach my class from my writing porch here at our house here on Thursday. I am looking out on the oak-juniper forest watching a cardinal at the feeder. The Earth smiles as do I. Today’s topic is change. To solve many of the problems facing humans today, we are going to have to change the way things have been done in the past, and change is not easy. There is tremendous power in the status quo. There are memories of how it used to be back when we did not have to face the new issues – the new forces acting upon us. We all wish for simpler times, better times. But the fact of the matter is that the times will be what they will be. The times – the era – the epoch is what it is. It is an ever-changing reality. My friend Jack Matson, a great creative thinker, wrote a book called Innovate or Die. That thought does not sit well with humans who believe that they control their own fate. I think much of life is being able to perceive and respond to pressures that require change. And perhaps the biggest change that any of us have to make is a spiritual. I have come to the conclusion that is much easier to change the economic structure to value the Earth differently than it is to bring spiritual change, although I work on both. I am, therefore I am. The Earth is, therefore I am. Without the Earth, I am not. Amen. Be safe. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 314
January 29, 2021 Hello campers. Today we are again visiting Buffalo Bayou, a wonderful strip of life that bisects Houston from west to east, ending up as the Houston Ship Channel which does have some fish life these days compared to the situation when Garland and I first moved to Houston. Buffalo Bayou has been a constant in my career as an environmental lawyers. I met Terry Hershey, the moving force behind keeping Buffalo Bayou natural, when Garland and I first moved to Houston in 1972. My first environmental law cases involved fighting a number of wastewater treatment plants that were proposed by developers who otherwise were unable to develop because the City of Houston was under a moratoria on new connections to their sewage treatment plants. I first met the late Don Greene, a lifelong proponent of protecting Buffalo Bayou, during the 1980s, and he was President of Bayou Preservation Association and I was the lawyer back when we were fighting to get stronger flood control standards and have better care taken of our creeks and bayous. I used to take my class canoeing down the bayou with Don who was a great trip leader, always stressing safety. That of course did not prevent accidents. I once swam into a “strainer” (a fallen tree) to retrieve two students who had tipped over their canoes. I can remember paddling down Buffalo Bayou and passing where the raw sewage flowed in from River Oaks, with me as the back canoe and Don leading. I am of the firm belief that Buffalo Bayou is the “heart” of Houston, and we need to protect it, keep it beating. It has made it this long, and the natural beauty places on the bayou is simply breathtaking. So enjoy this tribute to Buffalo Bayou, Don Greene and the otter, which by the way was a nickname a friend used to me by. And as always, stay connected and be safe. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 313
January 28, 2021 Hello campers. Okay – gather round. We have a news flash from Galveston from our intrepid on-the-scene reporter who has just encountered the Chupacabra. “I was fishing in the bay late yesterday afternoon and right at dark my boat capsized, and I had to swim for it. And as I drug myself ashore, there it was – there were yellow eyes glowing in the night and it looked scaly – or maybe like a mangy dog - but I’m sure it was the Chupacabra”. And there you have it – another sighting of this elusive carnivore – this most feared of Texas wild beasts, the subject of sightings all through the brush country and into the Hill Country. Experts on the subject are hard to find. Wikipedia has the origin of the Chupacabra in Puerto Rico in 1995, but it seems like I have been hearing about ole Chupa longer than that, but maybe not. If any of you have Chupacabra stories, or can remember when you first heard of the Chupacabra, please send them on to us. Otherwise, Isabelle’s wonderful depiction and my poem as well as our report from Galveston will have to suffice. And if we could figure out how to focus Chupa on Covid, we would have something. Pfizer and Moderna – eat your hearts out. We have the cure. And be safe out there and stay connected. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 312
January 27, 2021 Hello all. Day 312 is here. Not much new to pass on today. Class started for me yesterday – 40 bright young faces taking a class in environmental law, and I must say, just as the poet Amanda Gorman filled my heart with hope and made me proud, so do these young people I teach. They are the hope. I asked each of them today why they were taking my environmental law class and the answers across the board were optimistic – to learn how we were addressing climate, to better understand the rules around environmental, social and governance (ESG) requirements for corporations, to learn how to attack environmental injustice, to learn how to protect the ecological systems they were studying. It was a great way to start a new semester and inspired me to write today’s poem about the barnacle and defense of the Earth. Class today was on zoom, of course, but at least we were able to interact a bit better than in the past. I think I am learning how to better teach on zoom. It’s a cold teaching environment. One needs to warm it up, just like we need to warm up our connectuality, so plug into the barnacle and warm yourself with a bit Isabelle’s painting and my barnacle pledge to action. And watch for ole Covid. He’ll sneak up on you. Be safe. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 311
January 26, 2021 It’s Day 311. Another friend is in the hospital with non-Covid lung problems, getting care, getting well, but it shakes me up for those I care for to be sick. Friends are so important. He got to the hospital and got oxygen delivered through his nose and was feeling better for it. And when I heard that and then received this image from Isabelle, it seemed clear that I had to write about the relationship of our lungs and our local, neighborhood tree or forest. Just think about it – that tree is pumping out oxygen every day, even as it takes in carbon dioxide. A great twofer. And do we praise the tree? NO. Do we revere the tree? NO. Not in our society. Earth Church does. It is founded on such appreciation, but we as a society do not. That simply must change. Our priorities must change. It’s in our best interest for these priorities to change. Are we the only species that destroys that which supports it? We pride ourselves – note the word pride – on our intelligence but one has to question just how smart we are not to simply make trees and grasslands and all types of plants central to our spiritual selves. They give us oxygen. They remove the carbon dioxide. They give us life and protect the planet. They are the answer to prayers, yet we destroy them. Go figure. That is why Earth church was created – our other institutions simply have the wrong priorities. Our future is here on Earth, but we have to protect it. Period. So now – go and outsmart Mr. Covid for another day. And be safe. And write to us if you need human contact. Isabelle and I might do for human contact in a pinch. 😊 And be careful of pride, for it cometh before the fall, as the old saying goes. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 310
January 25, 2021 Hello campers. Day 310. As you might remember, this virus vigil was formed to communicate – to connect us all together – to keep in touch during the isolation of the pandemic. And I think we have done a fair job of realizing that goal. But there is one type of communication I have not employed and that is the messenger pigeon. Wouldn’t it be neat for a pigeon to arrive at your doorstep with a message from me and Isabelle saying “Just wanted to stay connected”. Well, I just did that electronically, but delivered by bird would be really neat. So – as you look at this pretty messenger pigeon that our artist has painted carrying a little envelope, think more broadly about how it is done – how does that pigeon find its way home? How does an indigo bunting find its way back to the Texas coast in the spring as it returns from points south? How does it find the place where it will nest? How does the whooping crane manage to come back to the exact same territory year after year down on the Aransas Wildlife Refuge? There are countless skills that are possessed by the congregants of Earth Church – our fellow church members – that we do not fully appreciate, and that is the substance of today’s poem about the Homing Pigeon. And of course Covid is still around. Be safe. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 309
January 24, 2021 Hello campers. Welcome to day 309. I’m still pumped from the inauguration. There was some very good thinking on display in the sentiments and organization put forward in that event. And it was very professionally done. Competence in production is one small step to repairing trust and faith lost. And today’s poem is about faith and the imagery of the bulb which I consider to be a wonderful piece of rebirth architecture that renews a plant year after year. A bulb carries the food supply for the plant like a survival capsule designed by NASA except the astronauts are plants. Now I think that is an interesting image to contemplate – that our plants may be advanced beyond us. I had a reader write about a show she had seen on TV, about how intelligent the octopus is, and I must say I continue to be amazed by nature, by the various members of Earth church that we are encouraged – that we are taught – to feel superior to. In Earth church, no species is superior. Some have more abilities in one direction than another might have but we all have worth, we all have value. We should require all young people to gain a better understanding of the spiritual side of nature – of the way that plants communicate, of the intelligent design in nature, of the abilities of crows to solve problems, of the abilities of chimps to talk to us through signing. We have all evolved differently, but we have all evolved amazingly. We are one and connected. So go visit an Earth church temple soon and be amazed, but of course, keep Mr. Covid in mind – mask up – stay distant. And so enjoy today’s poem and art with connectuality reaching from Isabelle’s and my fingers to yours. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 308
January 23, 2021 Well, I don’t want to be a downer here in the fourth day of Blackburn’s New Year, but you might remember that the Texas Legislature is in session, and that is a very different reality than that in Washington. We live in a tough state. On the one hand, we take pride in that toughness, but on the other hand, there are some nasty characters and many wind up in Austin and the Texas legislature has been known to pass – or at least attempt to pass – some nasty legislation. So – just saying – keep your eyes on Austin. And I think I mentioned that The Aransas Project has been successful in getting the Texas Commission on Environmental Quality (TCEQ) to investigate Steel Dynamics over near Sinton and to take action to shut down their construction of a wastewater treatment plant without a TCEQ wastewater discharge permit which we are trying to stop because of its potential negative impacts on Chiltipin Creek and Copano Bay. We are developing/trying some new tactics in this opposition, and we plan to try to reach out to Steel Dynamics and see if we can work with them to solve their wastewater problem. I have found in Texas that you have a much better chance of winning if you have an alternative solution and the best way to go forward is to work with the company if they will work with you. We are also exploring contacting key members of the supply chain – the clients and lenders to Steel Dynamics – and asking them to help us convince Steel Dynamics to do the right thing. Might not work but doesn’t hurt to ask. I am attaching a link to the press release that The Aransas Project just sent out. It is https://www.jimblackburninfo.com/uploads/1/3/1/5/131597080/1_22_21_tap_press_release_acc_ch.pdf. Check it out. I will be asking for your help in the future to write a letter or two but I am getting ahead of myself. Enjoy today’s bird – the cinnamon teal – and practice social distancing and wearing the mask. We are going to prevail against Covid but we are not there yet. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 307
January 22, 2021 Hello campers, I’m still pumped from Wednesday. I watched a press conference and the difference was very noticeable. This is a team that is organized and focused on addressing Covid. I was seeing what I had known that the Executive Branch could be doing relative to Covid. History is going to look back on this transition as a fascinating case study from one end of the spectrum to another. Very different, and much more in keeping with what I think is the responsible course of action. I have been writing you about Covid for 307 days now and this is the first time I have felt that the federal government was serious about addressing this virus. And as we move forward, we all have to assess how much we can trust this “new” United States. Can it live up to the potential – to the wonderful imagery – about what it could or should be doing? How much do we let ourselves hope and believe? How vulnerable do we become? I have great hopes in most of these issues, but the challenges are immense and the divide is great. So as explored in the poem today, what is the balance between spines to protect and openness to accept and receive? A tricky balance is involved for all of us. But today Mr. Covid was the focus of the full force of the federal government, and I for one thoroughly enjoyed seeing the feds get off the dime and get after Mr. Covid. Let’s get with the program and get this done, and stay connected as we try to kick this badass down the road. And by the way for those unfamiliar with the prickly pear cactus, the tunas are the red fruit and the nopales are the green pads – the body of the prickly pear - which grow the thorns. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 306
January 21, 2021 Happy new year campers, for it certainly feels like a new year to me. Today I’m bringing you the sun with its light along with a feeling of lightness, a feeling of well-being. What a wonderful day yesterday was for me. I didn’t realize how emotional I had become about the election, about democracy, hell – even about Garth Brooks asking us to sing Amazing Grace, which I did. It all choked me up. And wow – how about that young poet. I came away convinced I need to up my game a whole lot. And make no mistake about it - there was plenty of game on display – good game - caring people saying caring things. And then last night. I think this inauguration was much better than all of those balls attended by donors and mucky mucks. This was my type of celebration – a celebration about the people for the people – a celebration about the people that maintain society. Today, my smile is big, and my heart’s full of love. I know this wonderful feeling won’t last. Many tough issues lie ahead for Biden and Harris, but my goodness, for one day it was simply divine. I heard my President speak about truth. About values. About caring for each other. I saw him sign an executive order returning the U.S. to the Paris Climate Accord. We all have reason to be light today, and in that spirit, I offer this poem about the sun, our source of life, for without the sun, we would not be. I am, therefore I am. The Earth is, therefore I am. The sun is, therefore the Earth is. It’s that simple. Enjoy the sun. Enjoy the light and lightness. And be playful, for as you will see, your poet is at play today. And watch out for Mr. Covid. He wants you. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 305
January 20, 2021 Hello my camp friends, gather round. Today a new era is beginning, but we’re not there yet. We’re living day to day in these times. Now, that’s not all bad. We should never take anything for granted. Live with gratitude. Today, I am truly grateful for our democracy – for our country. Whether you voted for our new President or not, the ability of our system to withstand a really hard kick is remarkable. We will see power transferred. Unfortunately, it has to be secured with over 20,000 troops. It doesn’t look great, but it is happening and for that I am grateful. Let’s hope for light in our lives today. And try to be light, as our artist has set forth in this painting sharing with all of us her New Year’s resolution. To be light is a great wish for today and for 2021. 2020 was heavy – really heavy. The beginning of 2021 has been heavy. As I heard somewhere, this seems a bit like New Year’s Day, and it makes the artist’s New Year’s resolution very appropriate. Our New Year needs a little lightness and a bit of revelatory light would be welcome. And for me, I always find my light in the sun and the moon and the stars, the cry of Blue Jay, the song of the cardinal, the whisper of screech owl. Earth Church brings me light and makes me light. For today – I pray for light and that our feet will rise a bit above the turf, if only for a lovely moment or two, allowing us all to experience lightness allowing with our now-established connectuality. And I hope with all my heart that all goes well in Washington today. Amen. Blackburn. | ||
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Day 304
January 19, 2021 Hello all. Day 304. Almost time for the transition. Yesterday I gave a presentation on flooding as part of the Biden/Harris Inauguration MLK Day of Service. It was a day of giving back to the community. I spent a bit of time preparing the presentation on flooding and it felt good to be doing something positive after so much negative – so much fear. It felt very good. It is reasonable to ask what any of us can do to help our community – to help our country. And we help by being the person we wish others to be. I cannot allow myself to meet hate with hate because that is simply not the person I want to be – not the person I am. Today I am writing about one of three important aspects of the health of Galveston Bay – Chambers County – a wonderful rural county that surrounds Trinity Bay and forms the north shoreline of East Bay. The east side of the Bay is generally undeveloped and wonderful. And make no mistake about it – Galveston Bay is one of the most productive bays in the United States, second only to Chesapeake. Seriously productive. By the way, the other two keys to Galveston Bay’s health are the fact that it is shallow and pollution can be removed quickly with north winds and tides and the fact that Congress passed the Clean Water Act back in 1972 that caused major clean-up. The Houston Ship Channel never caught on fire like the Cuyahoga River in Cleveland did but it was likely just because a match was not dropped at the right location at the right time. More on bay health going forward. And don’t forget - be socially distant. Wear a mask. And find love rather than hate. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 303
January 18, 2021 Day 303. We continue to learn more about what happened in the capitol, and it is not a good story. In fact it seems to become darker every day. And Covid continues to be bad. Night before last I had a dream and woke up and realized it was a dream laced with fear – some kind of fear-generating situation in the dream I can’t quite recall, but there is no shortage of current events to generate real fear. And what I remembered was that I used to drink to quiet the fear and that it wasn’t particularly effective. It didn’t help me to address it. What I learned was that I needed to spit it out – I needed to talk about it – own it – acknowledge it – take its power away. And so when Isabelle sent me this rattlesnake, I initially wrote a playful poem about Mr. Chuckles, but I didn’t feel it was the right poem for this Earth Church inhabitant at this point in time (with a little help from my reviewer Ann Hamilton). Instead, a poem that spoke to the threat of the rattlesnake and recognized how it generates fear - and how that is okay - seemed more appropriate to these times. So enjoy this poem about the rattlesnake and owning fear. I think if we all had this attitude about fear I think that the country would run better because I have no doubt that much of the current unrest is fear driven – augmented by those – not just one but those - who use fear to generate their own power. And don’t forget, if you are interested in flooding in the Houston area (or perhaps most anywhere), join me on the Biden/Harris Inauguration Day of Service. I will be speaking on flooding today at 5 p.m. There is fear about flooding but the more you know the better I believe. You need to register to attend. Register at https://www.mobilize.us/nationaldayofservice/event/371303/ and then you’ll receive an email with the event link. I hope to see you later today. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 302
January 17, 2021 Hello all. We are back at Camp Hideaway after detouring to Isabelle’s garden. Today, our nature class features the badger, a great mammal that I have seldom seen. One of the most dramatic times was when I was driving from Falfurrias to Riviera in south Texas and there was this formidable-looking animal that was low to the ground but walked with a bit of a sway, sort of raising one side of its body up as it moved the right side forward and then the same on the left, giving it a bit of a sway. A serious-looking dude – one that you would not want to mess with. And of course, the artist has her own unique interpretation of the badger, painting what she has termed “a very sassy badger”. So today, we are going with the sassy badger theme and as you will see in the poem, I think she and I are on to something. I think that the idea below needs to be set to music and when we all come together after Covid is gone and we are back to socializing a bit, we are gonna party and do the “badger sway”. So get ready campers. Is there a choreographer out there? And we may need a song. This could be really big. Until then, be safe and keep Mr. Covid at a distance. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 301
January 16, 2021 Hello campers. Day 301. Time and Covid march on. One of the most interesting aspects of this vigil is the relationship that I have with our painter Isabelle. We don’t really plan these pairings very much in advance. Now and again I will suggest that Isabelle paint an image, but mainly, she is painting and sending the paintings to me and I write a poem inspired by the painting. Sometime there is no inspiration and I have a group of paintings that are waiting for the right moment. Such was the case with the Devil’s Claw which I held onto for several months before using it last week. Today’s painting was unsolicited and came with the following explanation by the artist. One of the lovely things my mother gave me was the love of gardening and plants. She suggested when feeling low that I buy a flat of flowers. I enjoy how the veins in our hands reflect the veins plants... really all living things. So, on the basis of that short narrative and the painting, you have today’s poem, “My Mother’s Hands”. And remember – stay connected. Stay safe. Adios. Blackburn | ||
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DAY 300
January 15, 2020 Well hello this morning. Lovely day, number 300. Unbelievable that this painting and writing has continued, just as the presence of Covid is continuing. We might breathe deeply this morning and take a moment to be grateful. Let’s all focus on keeping it together for a while longer. The reason for this virus vigil in the first place was to keep us all connected, and it is the pursuit and realization of connectuality that has made this such a fun project to be a part of. Connectuality has fueled my writing, and I am sure it has also fueled Isabelle’s painting. Some poems are better than others. Some paintings are better than others. But the intent has been, is and will be to reach out across the void that is being imposed on ourselves and make a connection. So – consider yourself connected for today. On another subject, I have been asked to give a presentation on Monday, January 18, at 5 p.m. as part of the Biden/Harris Inauguration Day of Service. I will be making a presentation on flooding in Houston, emphasizing three areas – Addicks/Barker/Buffalo Bayou issues and solutions – Northeast Houston and equity – West Shoreline of Galveston Bay and the Ship Channel and surge vulnerability and solutions. The northeast equity piece and the West Side vulnerability have not been previously presented publicly. This presentation will be about an hour long. The information is from a paper I am hoping will be published by the Baker Institute at Rice. If you are interested in attending this zoom meeting, you have to register. RSVP/register at https://www.mobilize.us/nationaldayofservice/event/371303/ and then you’ll receive an email with the event link at "Click Here to Join" and password. Add to that to your calendar. My understanding is that a live link will be sent to you within 24 hours of the presentation. I hope this system works so that those of you who wish to join up can join up. If you cannot get on, you are welcome to email me up until the start of the presentation and perhaps even a minute or two after we are supposed to start. I’ll try to help get you on if there are problems. If you are interested in flooding in Houston, you might enjoy watching this. I am doing this in support of national unity. This will be a nonpartisan presentation. It will have opinions about our flooding problems and what to do about them. You might consider watching this as you reflect upon what we could do if we all came and worked together to solve these problems. And of course, be safe out there. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 299
January 14, 2021 Hello campers. We are going into the world of the lily pad today, a world of frogs and largemouth bass, a world of beautiful blossoms that seemingly float on the water along with the leaves - a scene of beauty to contrast with the events in Washington and perhaps elsewhere. Lily pads, lotus and life begun again. Clean thoughts for a dirty time. I love the smell of the swamp, an honest smell of decay and humidity and detritus, of flood debris lodged up on the branches where the bayou overflowed into the bottomlands, filling the cutoff meander where the lily pad grows and the goggle-eye swims. What a great name – goggle-eye. I remember renting a flat bottom boat at Dove’s Landing down in the Cocodrie Swamp and putting the five horse motor on, cranking it up and heading out into the swamp, stopping along the side of Bayou Cocodrie, casting a Jointed Vamp lure (white with red spots) along the edge of the bayou and twitching it once or twice and bam – not a bass but a goggle-eye on the end of the line – battling all the way to the boat where it was snatched up by Grandpa Graves who smiled with his pipe in his mouth, saying we have some supper sonny boy. And there were lily pads floating in the pools back off the channel – dark pools with cottonmouth moccasins guarding the entry, places where the best fish could be found, but you best be careful, just like you must take care with Mr. Covid. Stay safe. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 298
January 13, 2021 Hello all. Day 298 and the vigil marches on – reaching out to you as the pandemic rages to its highest level, as the Congress moves toward impeachment #2, but I will not dwell on things over which I have no control. I need to take care of myself – my own actions and my own beliefs. That is my responsibility. And I found out a few good things yesterday. Over on Chipiltin Creek –our lawyer for The Aransas Project (TAP), Bryan French, filed a complaint back in 2020 against Steel Dynamics for constructing its wastewater treatment plant before it had a permit for the wastewater discharge (he was paid with money donated by some of you). And believe it or not, he got a letter yesterday from the Texas Commission on Environmental Quality (TCEQ) saying that they had found Steel Dynamics to be in violation of the law and ordered construction on the wastewater treatment plant to be halted immediately and not resumed until after they had a wastewater discharge permit. Now this is not a final victory by any stretch, but it does point out that this company was not following the law, and it may signal that the TCEQ is going to pay a lot more attention to this company and this application than they have been paying to date. I hope so. And up in the Texas Hill Country, another group I am associated with – the Trinity Edwards Springs Protection Association (TESPA) – has been fighting a commercial water well permit application that would have lowered the groundwater levels throughout a large swath of central Hays County (including at our home in Wimberley) and potentially dewatered Jacobs Well, the spring that feeds Cypress Creek that runs through Wimberley. TESPA got word yesterday that after six years of fighting with the help of lawyers Adam Friedman, Jeff Mundy and Vanessa Puig Williams (I appreciate good lawyers), the applicant intends to non-suit its request for a permit, meaning that they are withdrawing their permit application to pump 2.5 million gallons of groundwater per day, at least for now. So – good news on two fronts these days. These were fights I felt we had to undertake. Neither is over, but it is nice to know that our efforts can make a difference. All it takes is a willingness to stand up and try to the best of your ability. Both of these situations are Earth Church fights. Temples will be desecrated. There is no disgrace in failure but there will never be success if you just sit there and take it. And on that note, don’t let Covid win. Fight that nasty virus with your wits by following the advice of those that know. Wear your mask. Take the vaccine as soon as you can. Maintain social distancing. Don’t lose it now, for we are almost to the light. How about an anti-Covid ditty. “Get us to the light, yes, get us to the light. The end of the tunnel is now in sight. Just please whoever hears these pleas, get us to the light.” Amen. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 297
January 12, 2021 Hello campers. We’re firing up the campfire tonight and we’re pumped about it. There is nothing quite like a fire under the open sky. First, you have to build it, so we will have a campfire lesson. A bit of paper and some kindling wood – dry is good – small is good. Put a couple of layers of the small stuff and then a couple of larger pieces of branches and complete it with a teepee of even larger pieces and light it up and say a prayer for success. It’s a far cry from making a spark to light some dry moss, but the result is the same – a wonderful feeling of accomplishment when the flames flicker to life and reach for the stars. And then you lean back in your folding chair and gaze up at the clear sky on the crisp, cool night, and say a prayer of gratitude that you are in a temple of Earth Church and able to see the stars with the moon rising just over the cedars and oaks. Think over how many eons this scene was repeated by our genetic forebears – those who preceded us. This is our heritage. This is our foundation, and we lose it at our own peril. So go out and rediscover this wonder – this beauty. Take care with the fire – it can get out of control, but with a small portable pit and some care, it is truly grand. And while you are fireside, do a big shake and toss off those Covids into the fire and burn those babies up. The thought makes me smile. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 296
January 11, 2021 Today we are having a camp discussion on seed pods and the devil. Our visible subject is the Devil’s Claw, a plant of the Sonoran desert, an interesting piece of architecture that hitches rides on animals and humans and is distributed around in that way, clinging to hair or cloth with a ferocity lending credence to its name. But there is a very real devil that is also discussed in today’s poem. I am sure some of you out there are fans of President Trump, but this protest over the stolen election went way too far, starting with the basis for it, which is none. It is time we quit allowing him and particularly his enablers to get away with activity that is contrary to the best interest of the country and contrary to the constitution and simply not supported by any facts. Period. What happened on Wednesday is just beginning to become clear as we learn more about the organization behind the attempted takeover of Congress, the presence of zip ties for taking prisoners, the rallies Tuesday night and Wednesday morning leading to the march and attack on the capitol of the United States. Devils claw indeed. So – it is with sadness that I write about the devil who has (or hopefully had) his claw into a large piece of the United States citizenry. Working together is where we need to be. I will support your right to disagree with me, to fight hard for the beliefs that you hold dear. But there should be consequences for enabling, for aiding and abetting what happened on Wednesday, starting with supporting the big lie that there was fraud in these elections. I would never support an accusation like that without a shred of evidence. I would rightly be sanctioned in federal court for bringing such garbage without any supporting evidence and then to continue after case after case had not only been thrown out but ridiculed for lack of evidence, well – that’s simply unbelievable, yet that was what a couple of Senators – including Cruz – as well as well over 100 house republicans did. Shame on them. We better start demanding better. The country needs to get out the vaccine. We need to get on with the business of restarting the economy. And we need to stay safe in the meantime. Take care. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 295
January 10, 2020 Well, 2021 has not started out dull. I have to say that we are living through some very significant days right now. This past week will be written about for decades to come, and I am sure we have not heard the end of it yet. There is a Chinese curse that says “May he (or she) live in interesting times”. The implication is that interesting is not a good thing. Peace and tranquility are dull and boring. Love - dull and boring. Deceit, mayhem, storming the capital – rather interesting but scary. So be careful what you wish for – dull and boring might be just the ticket for 2021. And certainly a loving, peaceful, humble and grateful 2021 are what I wish for and that may not be very interesting at all. So – I’m for dull, uninteresting for the rest of 2021. We’ve had enough in the first 10 days to hold us for the rest of the year. May President-elect Biden take office without fanfare, without pomp and ceremony, and simply get to work healing this country. No tweets. Just a good old fashioned televised statement to keep us all informed, head down, paying attention to the country. That is what I wish for. That and for all of you to be safe out there – safe and connected with us, with someone, for we still have Covid-days ahead of us. Take care. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 294
January 9, 2021 Hello campers. Welcome to another day in paradise. Camp is in session and again I will be getting a bit personal with my message and poem. Today, Garland and I have been married for 50 years. I think that is pretty neat. Marriage is an interesting institution. For some it works better than for others. I can’t really explain what makes a marriage last. Ours certainly had points where we almost lost it all. But I think friendship and respect lie at the heart of the matter, as does the heart itself. It’s nice to want to see each other at the end of a hard day. And yes – I’m really happy to be with Garland after these many years, and she tells me she’s good with me as well. So – so good for today, but you can’t take anything for granted. You have to work at a relationship. And be grateful when the work pays off. And keep working and keep being grateful. That’s what I think about relationships and life as well when I think about it. Thanks for letting me share this 50th anniversary with you. And be safe out there. This virus continues to dominate. Don’t give it a chance. Stay away – stay safe – cover up. Just do it. I will have more in the coming days on our involvement in what can only be described as a truly a time for the history books. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 293
January 8, 2021 Well, campers, your counselor continues to not be able to keep up with days. I guess the antics on January 6th knocked me back 100 days but I am now reclaiming the 100 days to begin today at 293 days. I did hear some really good news yesterday and thought I would share it as good news is getting harder to find right now. As you know, I have been working on carbon sequestration in the prairies of Texas and the United States, with much of that work being completed at the Baker Institute at Rice University where we have assembled a working group of over 100 members who are helping us develop and implement a soil carbon payment system to pay ranchers and farmers for storing carbon. We submitted an application to the Lyda Hill Lone Star Prize competition for which the prize is $10 million over 5 years. I am happy to announce that our team at the Baker Institute has been selected as one of five finalists for this prize. We will now have about three months to refine our application and file our final submission for the Lone Star Prize. The link to the Rice University press release is http://news.rice.edu/2021/01/07/rices-baker-institute-among-finalists-selected-for-10m-lone-star-prize-to-improve-texans-quality-of-life. The link to the Lyda Hill Foundation You Tube video about this is https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PxVYeXtVVk0. I am really excited about this, and I take this as a good omen after all the bad juju that came down on the 6th. And speaking of the 6th, I heard from many of you in response to Lady Liberty Is Crying and I appreciate all of the responses. I must say – I was really proud of our artist. She and I talked about this concept about 3:30 in the afternoon and she had me a painting by about 7 p.m. or so. Now that is an artist on fire. And the old poet had a bit of a muse attack as well and we got those two items produced in rapid time. So thanks for being indulgent and appreciative. Your team is working for you here. Now go be safe and enjoy a bit of time outdoors today. And enjoy the agave. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 292
January 7, 2021 Well campers, I have tried to stay out of politics but some things are beyond politics and move into country and patriotism, two subjects I feel we all are obligated to address. I said things would be better in 2021 but we have a great big hair ball we have to cough up first. I’ve had it. What a mess. The most important thing I heard yesterday was President Elect Biden saying “Words matter”. They do. What you say matters. You are what you say. You own those words and what they represent, what they cause, what they cause others to do. You can’t just throw things out there and then pretend that the actions of others incited by those words have nothing to do with you. You are responsible. In fact, it is just that – responsibility – that we have been so willing to excuse during President Trump’s term. The safety and security of the United States are at risk. I could go on, but Isabelle’s painting says it eloquently and I have tried to capture the many thoughts flying through my head in this poem. Be safe and hope that today is better than yesterday. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 291
January 6, 2021 Hello there campers. Day 291 and it’s kayaking time. I went last week and it was not the best day for kayaking as the wind was blowing hard from the east and the water was rough, and it was still great. However, this poem is about a much better day – one in which I visit with the sandhill cranes that are among the loveliest beings on the Texas coastal marsh and prairie. Friends John and Sally have a house on Galveston’s west end and they sent a picture of some sandhills enjoyed by all who live and visit the west end of the island. I hope that the development of the island doesn’t run them off for they are truly a wonderful part of the west end of the island and they mainly hang out in fairly visible prairie uplands when they are feeding during the day. When Jack and I were fishing with Al Garrison down on Matagorda Bay late last year, we heard the magical sound of the sandhills – that wonderful trilling that touches me from my ears and head all the way down to my toes. There is something primal about that sound – something wonderful. One of the better birding trips I have been on was to Bosque del Apache on the Rio Grande south of Albuquerque, NM where we saw thousands of sandhills. I haven’t yet been to the Platte River where even more gather and I would like to go there sometime. And speaking of kayaking, I must say that the kayak is the way to go. Maybe we can do a Camp Hideaway kayak trip arranged through Artist Boat down in Galveston to meet us with a bunch of rental kayaks and those who have kayaks can drive down and join us – say sometime in the early summer ought to be about right. And I’m hoping that we might be able to have a virus vigil party/camp gathering also sometime in the summer where Isabelle can talk about her art and I will read all 291+ poems. 😊 Be safe out there. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 290
January 5, 2021 Day 290. A good day to have a bit of fun at the expense of lawyers. I’ve always been a bit of an odd duck (or perhaps odd vulture) of a lawyer. I went to law school not out of a burning desire to be a lawyer but out of a burning desire to stay out of Vietnam. About halfway through law school, I told Garland (we’d just married) that I hated law school. Well, she got busy in that funny way that she sometimes does and not long after came to me with an idea. She had been talking to a woman in the bathroom at a party about her boyfriend who was interested in environmental studies and maybe after that, becoming an environmental lawyer. And Garland came back and started talking to me about environmental law which seemed like a great fit as I love the outdoors – I took her fishing on dates and looking at whooping cranes on our first anniversary. So, at a time when environmental law had literally just begun (e.g. spring, 1971), I started taking every course in law school that I could that was anywhere close to environmental law. And then – true story – I wrote a paper in an international law course that made the lowest grade in the course. It was about the law of the oceans and I proposed creating a nation of the oceans so that they could sue for pollution. My professor at U.T. Law School was a former lawyer for Humble Oil Company (now Exxon Mobil) who thought that this was the worst idea he had ever heard and graded accordingly. I then entered that paper in the first American Trial Lawyers Environmental Law Essay contest and won the U.T. prize, but they said not to get excited – my paper was the only entry and they felt they needed to give the $100 away. And then I was one of several national winners (got $500) and was able to turn that paper and that award into an EPA fellowship to come to Rice where I received a Master’s degree in environmental science. I then went into a form of research/environmental consulting for several years, working first on the environmental planning for The Woodlands and then on National Science Foundation projects at the Rice Center for Community Design and started teaching in the School of Architecture at Rice. The point of this rambling story is that I never had formal training as an attorney. I have always played a bit outside of the legal box and it has served me well. Now, enjoy this poem about a bird lawyer and be careful out there. Covid lurks and wants you. Stay safe. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 289
January 4, 2021 Hi there campers. Another day is upon us, and I must say that 2021 still seems a lot like 2020. Yes – I know it was unrealistic to think it would change overnight, but I’m ready for an olive branch, a white dove, some kind of sign. I know that this coming week might be a bit tumultuous, but we need to get on with transition. The stakes here are incredibly high if the world – if investors – if our people – lose faith in the validity of our systems. So – orderly transition has to be priority #1 of this week. Let’s just move on. We have vaccines to distribute. We have care to give. We have to learn once again to care for each other. So let’s get on with it in 2021. In my search for something positive, how about the weather here in Texas to start 2021 which has been superb. We broke out an old portable fire pit and put it in our driveway where no fire could be started (like on the deck down by the creek) and brought out the folding chairs and sat out in the very cool night and watched the fire blaze and the stars sparkle, a very basic setting and a wonderful vision, something I had not done in much too long. Back to nature. Back to the outdoors in 2021. Feed me nature – the birds or the stars, the coyotes and the moon - and I will be okay. Now that was positive. Nature restores and heals and that’s the truth from the fire-watching stargazer who’s coming back to Houston with a bit of energy and sanity to start the first work week of the new year. Let’s all work on the positive, stay connected and safe, and sign up for the vaccine as soon as you can. We need to get back to living life as we knew it. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 288
January 3, 2021 Hello Campers. How’s 2021 working for you so far? I am moving a bit slow today. We’ve had a nice weekend here in the Hill Country – getting rested before jumping into the new working year. I’ll be teaching environmental law this spring at Rice. It will be interesting to see how the semester unfolds this time around. We start later in January than I remember in the past. My first class will be January 26 which is about two weeks later than normal. Here in Wimberley, the turkeys that live down by the dam are on full dress parade. The big Toms are gorgeous – full beards and in the sun their glossy feathers reflect green and goldish brown and black-purple. I saw several Eastern Phoebes that were rocking back and forth, going for bugs, robins everywhere and of course the gang – the chickadees, the tufted titmouse, the various sparrows, the scrub jay – around the feeder, with an unseen hawk screeching down from the clear sky above. What a great way to start 2021. So do yourself a favor and get outside and enjoy Earth Church. It’s there for you. Just do it. But of course, do it safely, distanced, with mask where appropriate. With a bit of love to you all on a lovely winter day to be alive. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 287
January 2, 202`1 Day 287 has in fact arrived. Yes for real. I have checked and double checked my day count. Apologies to those who I got out of whack. Week 41 is at its end, and we are Day 2 into the New Year. I’m good of mood and good of cheer. Yesterday we were walking along the road and a caracara circled right above us, its white wing tips and tail and head ablaze with the sun, my totem bird showing off, saying watch me, see me flying with the north wind and the sun. And on the drive up here to Wimberley, we saw at least four caracaras, all flying over the road before us, greeting us, helping us welcome in 2021, passing out some “safe passage” dust. I’m happy to be alive today, enjoying the hope that a new year brings, the prospect of a reversal of fortune, the prospect of something creative and new. And while that is all great, we have to stick with a program of daily living, making it a day at a time. So on Day 2, here’s a tribute to just rolling along, keeping the wheels on the track. Now that may seem contradictory to out of the box thinking, but actually not. Out of the box is not out of control. Out of the box is understanding where the lines are and choosing – intending - to step outside them in pursuit of an idea, of an action, of a position. There is a level of intentionality to out of the box thinking, just as there is a level of intentionality behind the concept of connectuality that led to this virus vigil. I am not recommending permanent residence out of the box. It can be cold and lonely if you are out of control and out of the box. And on that note, don’t forget Covid. It is still with us. Be careful, please, and send a note if you need to talk. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 286
January 1, 2021 Day 286. Good morning campers. Happy 2021. Yep – we made it, but as a symbol of 2020, let me offer that as Garland and I were leaving Houston yesterday to come back up to the Hill Country, we were on the Westpark Toll Road and saw one of those big flashing road information signs. The first message was “Warning – Covid Level Red” and the second was “Warning – Flash Flood Watch”. Yep – fitting for the last day of 2020, as was the fact that I made an error on my day count yesterday. We are now at Day 287. 41 weeks. So what could be a more fitting start than Isabelle blowing us out of the box to announce 2021 is here. And that is my theme for 2021 – “Out of the Box in 2021”. I feel that we have been in confinement - mentally, physically, politically. I also believe our thinking about the types of problems that we are facing is confined, constrained. Industry is confined. Academia is confined. Religion is confined. Society is confined. So let’s get out of the box in 2021. Let’s think less about entitlement and expectations and more about gratitude and humility. We have much to be grateful for. Let’s try to find those things that we are grateful for personally and from a societal standpoint. My hope for the New Year is for us all to pull together, to work together, to stitch this fractured place back together. And on top of it all, there is the Earth which is there for us every day if we just embrace it and let it in. Earth Church may be the ultimate in “out of the box” thinking but it is also the most basic, the simplest, the most real metaphysical place you will find. We may have arrived at our final place and just don’t know it. And the purpose of the vigil – talking and communicating about Covid, offering a bit of fellowship and friendship during our isolation – continues as we start the new year. So another wish is that we all get vaccinated, it works and Covid is gone. But it is not gone yet so be careful and Happy New Year from Isabelle and me. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 285
December 31, 2020 Day 285. Hello campers. Meet Pepe’ Le Pew, Isabelle’s send-off for 2020. We all know 2020 was a stinker of a year so we are finishing it off with a stinker, albeit a well-intentioned one. For those who may not have heard of Mr. Le Pew before, he is/was a cartoon character that I enjoyed as a kid growing up. I would be curious to know the cut-off age for not knowing who Pepe’ Le Pew is/was. Write me and tell me if you remember or don’t remember Pepe’ and what your age is (if you are willing). I am just curious if Pepe’ is as well known today as he was back in the day. In the meantime, I must apologize to all natural skunks of the Earth for linking them to 2020. They don’t deserve such infamy. They are so much better than 2020. So read my little ditty about Mr. Le Pew and bid 2020 a well-earned adieu. Good bye. Good riddance. Go on now. Scoot. Bye Bye. And don’t you forget to be safe out there and don’t do anything stupid for new year’s eve. We are hopefully in the home stretch. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 284
December 30, 2020 Day 284. Hello Campers. We are getting closer to the new year. I don’t usually get too excited over a new year, but this year I am excited. Symbolism matters to me right now, perhaps more than I can remember. And the movement from 2020 to 2021 seems really important. Symbolic is an interesting word – a symbol of something, standing for something. What do I want 2021 to be? What do you want it to be? My life has gone on for a while and I would not like to spend the remainder socially distanced, away from my friends, away from the good people that I know exist. I like the good amongst us and it’s there. I want 2021 to be a year where we reestablish our national morality. Morality is a bit like patriotism – I feel it has been stolen by the immoral in the name of religion or some edge philosophy. Moral is about goodness. Moral may also mean going against the power, against the money. Moral in the 60s was about civil rights, environment and against Vietnam, although that was not necessarily believed at the time. That was one of the hardest times of my life from a moral/philosophical standpoint when I learned – when I figured out – that our government was lying to us. And I believe that we are at a point today very similar to the 60s. Today we have climate change, fighting to bring equality throughout society, getting Covid relief to all, helping out those who have lost their jobs and those who are hungry. There should not be a hungry child in the United States and there are many. And speaking of 2021 and symbols, today the artist has surprised me with a second painting from the Glades over at Memorial Park here in Houston. She painted a nice little seating area just off of the boardwalk – one with “chairs” from recycled trees lost in the great drought of 2011 when so many trees died in Memorial Park. And once again, I opened up my email and there was this painting waiting for words. So today, the poem is about the Secret Place and a meeting about love and morality that happened there, at least in my mind. Be safe out there. Covid is still very much around. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 283
December 29, 2020 Day 283 Well, the artist set me up. I mean – she sent me a painting titled Year of the Rat and as I am basically illiterate on things zodiac, I consulted Wikipedia and determine that 2020 was in fact the year of the rat in the Chinese zodiac. Now when this comes flying in through the email, there is no way that I could pass up this target. How could I pass up “Year of the Rat” arriving all pretty and painted up nicely, just waiting for some words? So – I will admit to having a bit of fun with this one. I hope you enjoy the poem about the year of the rat that we all are more than ready to leave behind. Now – I have not been able in my relatively short research to pin down all the nuances of these 12 Chinese zodiac animals or of the different subclassifications. For example, 2020 was the year of the Metal Rat as opposed to the Earth Rat or the Water Rat, among others. Haven’t figured that one out yet, but it seems somewhat fitting that 2020 would not have a real rat but rather a metal one. If anyone can enlighten me on the metal rat, please do. Otherwise, enjoy my attempt at having a little fun with President Trump and the Year of the Rat. And be safe out there. Blackburn | ||
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DAY 282
December 28, 2020 Day 282. Okay. Day 282 campers. What should we do today? How about this. I was watching an Indian crime show on Netflix (Delhi Crime) and I really enjoyed it because it seemed accurate about the condition of the large urbanized areas of India and reminded me of our good times there, although our favorite places were not in the big cities but in the country. It also reminded me of some habits of India that I did not like so much, like the caste system and arranged marriages and the like. And it got me to thinking about fate and religion and determinism, as in are we the architects of our lives or are certain events simply ordained by someone or something? Now, genetics determines many things. In this life, I cannot be a cow or a bird because my DNA shapes my biology a certain way, such as is the case of the Luna Moth, today’s artistic and poetic subject. But these holidays have seemed kind of surreal – like I am floating – papers graded, all meetings for this year completed, just waiting for January 20. Floating is good but it leads to the mind wandering into the adjacent fields, like a bird dog chasing rabbits, unable to resist. So enjoy this bit of floating. There is more to come. And continue to remember Covid and practice safe social intercourse. Your life may depend on it. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 281
December 27, 2020 Day 281. Greetings campers. Day 281. Today I want you to meet the Yellow-bellied Sapsucker, a lovely woodpecker whose name has gotten tossed around in a bad way, I think. Now, Gary Clark who writes about birds for the Houston Chronicle wrote up the yellow-bellied sapsucker yesterday, and it was funny to find his write-up because I had just finished my poem about this bird the day before. I imagine that he and I picked this bird for the same reason – they have migrated in and I just saw this bird last weekend. So – Gary and I are seemingly on the same wavelength and believe that this woodpecker has gotten some bad press over its name, although in looking up the history of the use of pejorative term “yellow-belly” I couldn’t find much. Seems the origin is somewhere in either western movies or the western U.S. – not clear which, although I can picture John Wayne calling someone a yellow-belly and not meaning it in a nice way. Similarly, sapsucker just doesn’t carry with it the image that one might like to have and neither does sucker by itself, yet this woodpecker has done nothing to deserve this disrespect and abuse. So, rather than forming the yellow-bellied sapsucker abuse league or mounting a social media drive in defense of the sapsucker, I just decided to put in all in the poem. So enjoy this bit about the Yellow-bellied Sapsucker and stay away from Covid. It’s raging still. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 280
December 26, 2020 Day 280. Well, I did it again. I got off on my day numbering. We had two day 272s so we will skip 279 and go straight to 280. We’ve been at this vigil for 40 weeks. And the today Camp Hideaway is rockin’ with the sounds of the tree frog. Frog sounds – good sounds – happy sounds – warm sounds. Sounds that are good for my soul. Frog sounds, bird sounds, the sounds of nature, the sounds of the Earth. There is so much to enjoy about the Earth. We may dislike the heat of the summer or the cold of the winter, but it’s all good. And that is what I wish to convey today – life is good. We are all in our various forms of a safe holiday, but we are here to enjoy life and the Earth and that is worth a celebration. In today’s poem, I am looking forward to the warmth of the spring because I like to get in the water. I want warmth to return so I can wade fish and kayak in my sit-on-top with slits for water to come in and equalize balance that gets your butt wet when you go out, necessitating waders. So that’s what I think about on a cold winter morning before the sun clears the edge of the hill out my writing window here in Wimberley. Enjoy today’s poem and art by Isabelle. And enjoy a happy day 280 as you stay free of Covid. Blackburn | ||
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DAY 278
December 25, 2020 Day 278. Hello campers. Welcome to Christmas Day, a key day on the Christian calendar and a key economic celebration for our society. I could go on about that but I won’t, instead focusing today on creativity. I have always enjoyed creative thinking. I had to be creative to survive and win as an environmental lawyer in Texas. You don’t win against power when you work in a system dominated by power when you have no power. I have never taken well to someone telling me how to do something. I always had to go and find my own path, oftentimes to my own disadvantage. The path less traveled has a lot of brush and debris in it. Its not necessarily romantic but it is very rewarding when you step over a high point and look into a valley unlike any you have ever seen. That actually happened on a hike in the Guadalupe mountains with friends and Garland, but it works beautifully as a metaphor. That is what creativity can be about – about seeing something never seen before and totally enjoying the moment. And its powerful as well. So in that spirit, enjoy this little created story about a tree and its bauble. And be safe out there. Don’t lose it now. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 277
December 24, 2020 Day 277. It’s Day 277 – can you feel it? Camp Hideaway is rocking today. I think Covid just took a step backward even as it appears that the pandemic is raging. Society is making some progress for the first time and it is jolly good news. I do think that this virus is a crafty one – it’s already mutated once to become more infectious and that may not be the end of it surprises, but we humans are fighting back. If all of us would cooperate, we could make a better stand, but of course, we are humans and we aren’t always good at cooperating, particularly in this day and time. Yet cooperation is what must lie ahead for us in 2021 and I think most of us will enjoy things being a bit less partison, a bit less narcissistic. I would like to see us focus on the country and on the Earth for a while rather than on the celebration of the ego – earth and country - two important items set aside for much too long and deserving of a bit of attention. It is up to us to protect a country that has been preserved by many brave souls. We all need to stand up and be counted here. Patriotism does not belong to a bunch of crazies. It belongs to all of us and we should claim it in 2021 and hold it. And the same for the Earth. We need to stand up and be counted as members of Earth Church in 2021, moving forward in priority the protection of the Earth, for this church nurtures and protects us all. Without this church, we would surely die. So may peace find you today, may Covid stay out of your way and visit Earth Church this holiday. And now, the roadrunner has a message for you. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 276
December 23, 2020 Day 276. It happened on Day 275 and I’m reporting it here live on Day 276. The convergence has occurred. It is upon us. It was and remains with us. Evermore. And be safe out there. Blackburn | ||
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DAY 275
December 22, 2020 Day 275. Today I am grateful for designers of various types that are terrific to experience and know. There are all types of designers but today I am focused on urban and landscape design. I had the privilege of working and teaching in the urban design field for many years and over the years I have tried to use litigation as an element of urban and coastal design. I have worked with some great designers, including the late Charles Tapley of Houston, Peter Rowe who is now at Harvard and Rob Rogers (one of Peter’s students) who is working with us on the Galveston Bay Park Plan. I had been hearing about this new design over at Memorial Park here in Houston and Shellye Arnold and Carolyn White of the Memorial Park Conservancy showed Garland and me around their new section that opened several months ago called The Eastern Glades. After that visit, I grabbed Isabelle and took her over there because it was simply wonderful. I had been hearing it was really nice but I was blown away. Attention to ecology is a basic here. Thomas Woltz of Nelson, Byrd, Woltz landscape architects has designed a space I will return to many times, which is saying a lot for someone who prefers outdoor areas away from people. This is a park that celebrates wetlands – contiguous flooded timber accessed by a boardwalk, wetland plants at the edge of the constructed pond, islands of jurisdictional wetlands surrounded by spongy grasses, small drainage features (no longer ditches) that are filled with wetland plants and water quality enhancement features. There is a something magical about this place and I cannot wait until spring when the frogs abound. The sound alone will be like a symphony. And there are plenty of places to sit and simply sit and listen to and enjoy the symphony which will be magnificent. I give a big thumbs up to the Eastern Glades and to designers in general. I enjoy creativity. I try to teach it. I like to pursue it in my own work. In addition to Isabelle’s interpretation of the glades above, I have included a map that shows the layout of the Eastern Glades including the lake. You can go to the Eastern Glades and be socially distanced, outdoors, wearing a mask and Covid careful. So please go and enjoy. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 274
December 21, 2020 Day 274. Well hello campers. Yesterday was one of those glorious days of promise, of sun that beams down and warms your bones after a coldish night, a day when nothing can compare to being alive. I saw an Eastern Phoebe yesterday, rocking back and forth in the glorious way that Phoebes do, and it brought a genuine smile to my face. The mockingbirds and the robins were lively, fun, not boring even though I have seen them countless times before. I have always admired the great birdwatcher Victor Emmanuel who said he still enjoys seeing and watching a grackle and I love that sentiment. I enjoy the birds like friends, exchanging greetings, renewing acquaintances, passing the time of day. We all should consider each day that way – giving the sun a salutation, welcoming the moon and the stars, taking a moment to watch the clouds move and all the while being grateful, ever grateful, for being alive on this wonderful place called Earth. So I invite you to make this a day of celebration of being alive. Say hello to the sun and to the tree in your yard. Walk out and hug a tree (yes, I mean it) – go hug a tree. I think I asked you to do it once before. Did you? Say hi to the first bird that you see today. If you are with others, you can utter it under your breath. It will be heard by those to whom it is intended. And most of all, work all day today on being grateful. And be safe while doing that. Covid still abounds as you all know. Don’t lose it here over the holidays. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 273
December 20, 2020 Day 273. Hello campers. My yard message did stir up a bit of response, but not so much against me as against the Mayor who called me a communist. One writer point out that the Mayor who supposedly hated communisms was imposing the exact same requirement on every yard whereas I was expressing individuality and property rights, yet it was me being challenged as a communist. As I said, I don’t think he really thought about it other than trying to simply categorize me in what he considered to be bad company. Well, there has been a lot of company some would call “bad” that I have been glad to keep, but none of them were avowed communists – clients that have stood up to authority, landowners fighting for their property rights, flood victims mad at a government that does too little too late. As a society, we get so caught up in mass economic expansion that we lose sight of what is really important – our relationships, our love for one another, treating each other honestly and fairly, treating the Earth honestly and fairly. One of our big problems today is the lack of trust that exists at all levels, and I think one piece of that is honesty - some people’s word is meaningless – they simply lie, just telling you what they think you want to hear, maybe even chuckling about it later. I hope that my word means something. If I give my word, I do everything in my power to keep it. Our word is our bond. We need to return to that value which seems almost naïve right now. My father always wanted to be a millionaire (he wasn’t) and he always had some interesting scheme to make money (he didn’t make all that much) and one time he lost a lot of money on a deal down in Mexico. He could have (and many would say he should have) declared bankruptcy, but he refused, and paid the money back he owed to the bank over a ten to fifteen year time period. I asked him about it and he told me he gave his word that he would pay that money back and he did. I hope my word means that much today. And on that note, be safe out there. You-know-who is still lurking. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 272 (Error)
December 19, 2020 Hello campers. Today we are going on a road trip – a long road trip – to Great Britain to see the gannets, a beautiful, graceful fishing bird that spends most of its life at sea and comes ashore only to breed, raise their young and then go back out to sea. They are shown on distribution maps as occurring offshore of Texas in the Gulf in the winter, but I have never seen one here as I don’t spend a lot of time offshore in the winter. We take the train out of London to York where we are met by our guide who drives us east to the coast and Bridlington where we stay, and get up the next morning for trip to the Bempton Cliffs Nature Reserve to see one of the most fabulous sea bird colonies in Great Britain. Here there are many excellent birds, but none moreso than the gannet which nests just over the edge of the cliff at some of the highest points. When you are out on the trail, they seem to be coming right to you only to duck down just below the ledge to land on the cliffside. There are overlooks where you can see entire exposed cliffsides that are full of nesting seabirds – puffin, guillemot, razorbill, kittiwake – but today we are focused on the gannet. And one of the first things we notice is that there are fluffballs at the feet of the gannets – gugas – what young gannets are called. The cliffs are sheer with 100 foot plus drops straight down to the water below which is full of feeding birds, swimming and diving and fishin, a place that flies as one when a peregrine falcon flies by. It is an amazing place. I hope you enjoy it. And be safe out there. Covid is still with us. | ||
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DAY 272
December 18, 2020 Day 272. Time and Covid march on. It’s day 272 and perhaps the end is in sight. It is hard to know when to declare an end to this vigil. Isabelle and I do not believe that we are there yet with over 3000 people passing away each day right now, but with the vaccine beginning to circulate, there is a light at the end of the tunnel. I doubt that we will receive an all clear to resume as we were pre-Covid anytime soon, but it does seem that various restrictions will be lifting in the months ahead. We still have a few poems and paintings in us, and we will continue for a while longer. Today’s topic is the yard, a personal concern of mine. I have been making presentations about the horrors of the American yard for decades. Once upon a time, I was making a presentation about the yard at the John Gray Institute at Lamar University in Beaumont and talked about the water use, the pesticide and herbicide use, the noise and air pollution, the solid waste, and the general ecological inappropriateness of the American Yard and a man in the audience (turned out to be the mayor of Beaumont) came up afterwards, and I said “Yes sir, what can I do for you?” and he said “Son, are you a communist?”. It made me smile then, and it makes me smile now. He was trying to come up with the worst type of person he could come up with – a horrible person who would speak ill of the American yard - and a communist was it. This is what a discussion about yards sets off. Yards are the sacred ground of Americana. A well kept yard is part of the American dream, so of course only a communist would find fault with the yard. The truth is that yards have a heavy ecological and environmental footprint which is the subject of today’s poem. And don’t blame the artist for this one. She is responsible for much of the direction in which we go as I often write in response to her images, but for today, I asked her to paint a home and a lawn despite her hesitancy to unleash me on this subject. So, enjoy this communist poem. And be safe out there. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 271
December 17, 2020 Day 271. Welcome to Isabelle’s web, campers. Today we are enjoying another of Isabelle’s lovely pieces, and the moment I saw this piece, I was back as a teenager listening to a Rolling Stones album – Out of Our Heads – and what I consider to be one of the classic Jagger/Richards combos – The Spider and the Fly. And from that came a memory of an early rock band playing down on South Padre Island that included John Kirksey who is now the leader of Kirksey Architects here in Houston. I wrote Kirksey and asked him if he recalled playing the Spider and the Fly and he responded as follows regarding his band the Capers. “Our play list did include several Stones and Beatles favorites but I much preferred the hard rock n roll, four chords stuff......easier to both play and dance to! That sentiment was spawned by a Battle of the Bands event at the Arcadia theater [in Harlingen where we both grew up]. We followed the Malibu's Beach Boys set and had two Beatles songs which we did an OK job of covering. We were followed by Freddy Fender and he came out and set the place on fire with a pounding base background and a classic 60's r and r standard (can't remember the name). Woke me up to the power of good ole r and r.” Freddy Fender who was from San Benito (a neighboring high school rival town) would definitely blow away most any local band and went on to a long professional career with the Texas Tornados. I’m sure I can recall the Capers playing the Spider and the Fly down on the beach in the mid-1960s. The thought really makes me smile. And now, enjoy my treatment of the spider and the fly, and by all means, don’t be a fly in Covid’s web. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 270
December 16, 2020 Day 270. Today’s topic for the camp’s entertainment is the wind – that force that we perceive but cannot see, feel but cannot touch, love but sometimes hate. I think of the design of houses here on the coast before air conditioning – houses where the living quarters were separated from the cooking area by a dog run to let the wind take the heat away – houses with big shady porches where just a breath of air would make life livable during the summer. We used to design buildings to capture the wind, to work with it, to use it. Today that seems to have been lost a bit. We now capture the wind with big rotary blades but we no longer seem to caress the wind, to work with it at the micro-level, using it instead to send electricity to us so we can escape the breeze. Now don’t get me wrong – I am a fan of air conditioning, but it does seem strange that summer indoors is often cooler than winter indoors, that some people I know have space heaters in the summer because the air conditioning is turned down so low. Never mistake that even as we are getting some priorities straight, others are still rather bent. But such is life with we humans. There are realities about us that are hard to accept and harder still to talk about. Today, I don’t need to because the wind is my friend and I want to wax on about it. But be forewarned – there might be an upcoming topic or two that might strike a sensitive chord or two – not that I have been particularly easy on tricky topics – but there is one that may be coming that might just cause a ripple or two in the Camp Hideaway consciousness. So with that bit of suspense hanging over the crowd, I leave you to beware of Covid. Don’t let that type of suspense creep into your life. Be careful and be smart. Wear a mask. Stay socially distant. Don’t give in to guilt trips that you should not otherwise take out of concern for self and others. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 269
December 15, 2020 Day 269. Welcome to Christmas Bay, one of my favorite little spots on the Texas Coast. Christmas Bay is south of Galveston Island across San Luis Pass on the backside of Follett’s Island which is the isthmus between San Luis Pass and Surfside. This is Brazoria County and fishing and hunting country with lots of backwater places full of oysters and redfish with the trout sticking to the deeper water and the reds and flounder at the shoreline and reefs. This is the land of birds, a place where many of my early poems about the wading birds of the coast were inspired. This is where I came to know the oystercatcher and the willett and the tri-colored heron, all at home here at Christmas Bay. This is where I came when I was first discovering Earth Church, venturing out with my friend Jim Olive who had a little wooden shanty on an oyster reef in Christmas Bay that was destroyed by Hurricane Ike. When I pause and reflect, I can see the marsh grass lining the shore, the water pushing up into the stalks, the swirls and splashes at the edge, the white shrimp jumping out of the water in the fall. I can also remember the rattlesnake that swam through a group of wade fishermen here, the snake swimming east from Rattlesnake Point (well named), a fearsome sight when encountered at eye level in the water, wade fishermen parting as if moved by some holy spirit which in this case was the spirit of self-preservation. Of course, all the snake wanted to do was get to the land on the other side, but it was funny watching this scene unfold like a bit of slapstick comedy. Christmas Bay is a place of many fine mornings with Team 11, my fishin’ buddies who I truly enjoy. To have memories is to live again, a thing of great value in a life that is limited. So enjoy today’s memories of Christmas Bay and my close encounter with a Kemp’s ridley sea turtle. And once again, don’t forget to stay vigilant about the virus and don’t forget to stay connected. That connection might be just the thing to give you or someone else the motivation to exercise that extra bit of care needed to avoid infection today. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 268
December 14, 2020 Welcome back for another day at Camp Hideaway where today we are focusing on life-giving rain, that essential ingredient to a livable Earth - rain that cleans away that which has accumulated, bringing me to today’s topic of politics. I have stayed away from politics in these writings since the election, just waiting for the electoral college to make the election results official. There is a great accumulation of political debris that needs to be washed away, flushed where such things go, and I am hopeful that today’s electoral college vote will be like a rain and clean the place up a bit. Whether you were with Biden and Harris or not, they have been duly elected, and it is my fervent hope that we can all unite behind them and begin to heal as a country. The problem with fights – hard fights with strong convictions on both sides – is that it is also hard to find the way to work together afterwards without feeling that you have sold out your principles. There is a way. We just have to be creative – to be persistent – to be calm and calculated – and find it. There are important issues on the agenda that must be addressed like Covid and climate, two divisive issues. So we have work ahead of us. However, healing is absolutely necessary if we are to again be a strong country – healing needed for our mutual success. So my hope is that the rain that swept across Texas on Sunday will carry into Monday and put this election mess behind us. And don’t forget - Covid is still with us, perhaps more now than ever. It is weird to think that after 268 days, we are at the highest peak of deaths and infection. I remember back to the start of this vigil and how naïve we all were. In upcoming vigils, I hope to write more about science and belief – about the differences between the two and the way that they get confused. It’s an important distinction that we have lost. And remind me to talk about the American yard in that context. It fits. More later, hopefully soon if I remember and keep these many thoughts from becoming misplaced. Blackburn. | ||
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Day 267
December 13, 2020 Hello all. Welcome to another glorious day to be alive. Forget Covid for the moment. Push the Covid blues aside. Smile, put on your shoes and meet the day. You’re alive today, don’t ever forget that. It’s a wonderful thing, this stuff called life. And if we don’t live it, well shame on us. Writing these daily poems has been interesting. It has revealed bits about me to me. I have never compiled my thinking about life and living. I write pieces here and there but I have never attempted to articulate a cohesive philosophy because I never felt the need, but it may be coming. For today’s painting, I asked Isabelle to paint the Earth rising as seen from the moon. This is an extremely important image to me. It is the “why” of Earth Church. The Earth exists, unique in the universe as far as we know. It is the ONLY reality where life is concerned. Nothing else is. One day I might try to go back through these 267+ days of writing and see what themes can be found and how the pieces can be reformed into a jigsaw puzzle of thoughts, perhaps arranged more thematically. And two of those pervasive thoughts I come back to are life and consciousness. I may have mentioned before that I can recall times in my life when I could feel a “bump” within my consciousness, perhaps like an infusion of spiritual energy. It was physical but beyond physical in the sense that my thoughts seemed different, clearer. My perception of life and living expanded and my relationship to the Earth expanded. It was like something being added to my consciousness. This sorta fits with the concept that life is a unique form of energy – a concept that has floated through these writings, perhaps a form of reincarnation where one joins other lives in progress. So enjoy today’s painting titled Space by the artist and my attempt at writing something that tries to capture at least a piece of this thought as well as borrowing from traditional religion. And as you are reading the poem, you might remember David Bowie and Ziggy Stardust and Major Tom. And please be safe out there. We are losing more people daily to Covid than 9-11 caused. The end of the tunnel is in sight so let’s all to hold it together and make it to the light. Blackburn. | ||
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Day 266
December 12, 2020 Morning campers. Rise and shine. Today we are meeting prairie dogs and I want you to know that in writing this poem, I learned a whole lot about prairie dogs which were not present in the Rio Grande Valley where I grew up or central Louisiana where I spent a lot of time. Nope. I’ve seen prairie dogs, but not often. Now our artist Isabelle is married to John Chapman, Lubbock born and raised, a man of the High Plains and prairie dogs. The High Plains are an interesting ecosystem that I am learning about because of my interest in carbon storage in the soils. Those plains have the potential to pump a lot of carbon in the soil and so learning about the role of the prairie dogs in maintaining the prairie was of great interest. In ecology, a keystone species – and the prairie dog is one – is a species that the whole system depends upon, and the prairie dog is considered such a species in the prairie ecosystems where it is found, primarily, I think, because of its role in spreading seeds as well as it providing unique habitat for other animals such as the burrowing owl which always seems nearby. That type of synergy is also neat. Well – good – learned something today. Check mark attained. Now – enjoy this tribute to the prairie dog and be safe out there. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 265
December 11, 2020 Day 265. The virus vigil marches on. We have been marching and camping for a while now. I often feel like I am all dressed up with nowhere to go. Get up, send out the vigil, get on zoom, stay on zoom off and on, maybe take a walk and visit the local version of Earth Church, come back home, Garland and I eat our own cooking, go to bed, get up, send out the vigil, get on zoom, stay on zoom . . . you get the picture. So I thought I would liven things up and write a poem about the feral hog. Yeah buddy – let’s talk about the feral hog. An extremely smart animal that has made many hunters and landowners who want to rid themselves of this animal feel rather foolish. I am sure there are many stories out there about feral hogs. I have one. We were investigating some bottomlands out on the San Jacinto River north of The Woodlands undertaking a wetland field survey, and we were in thick palmettos underneath a mixed hardwood canopy when we started hearing feral hogs moving near us – kind of grunting, kind of mumbling under their breath. You could hear the movement through the palmetto fronds, the cracking of dry leaves, when suddenly the wetlands analyst I was walking with jumped over a log and grabbed a very young piglet and held it up to show the five or six of us following him. Of course it started screaming, making a high-pitched wail, and all hell broke loose. We could hear the sow crashing through palmettos, coming for her baby, and I took off in the other direction and he thankfully dropped the piglet and pulled the .45 caliber pistol he carried on his hip and was ready to shoot. Full two handed stance. Thankfully, the sow stopped as soon as the piglet stopped screaming and ran to her, and this rather shaken young man came back to meet up with us, grinning a bit of a stupid grin and saying how that wasn’t very smart, to which I added “No shit”. So – with that tale to get you started, enjoy today’s poem about a very interesting, hated, hunted and perhaps misunderstood animal. And be safe out there. Covid is more dangerous than a feral hog. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 264
December 10, 2020 Hello all. Good morning. I would like to say my spirit is flying today, but I’m afraid today I’m flying a tail-dragger, and I am sorta bouncing down the runway trying for lift-off. Might have to pull up and get a cup of coffee and fire this baby up again. Aaaggghhh. Much better. I saw that Chuck Yaeger, the famous test pilot, died this week and it led me to thinking about how far we have come in my lifetime which is only 73 years (did you catch the ONLY?). He was famous for flying faster than the speed of sound – breaking the sound barrier – Mach 1 – and then Mach 2. Of course, we are now flying back and forth from a space station with rockets that come back and land so that they can be reused. We have been to the moon and back, and to this day I remember that photo of the Earth rising behind the moon, a famous shot that clearly established Earth as the blue planet – an image that I use these days in my class – a teaching point about a turning point in our collective thinking about the Earth. Earth-rise – perhaps a painting and poem for the future. Be safe out there and enjoy the bobcat, another great image by Isabelle, the painting magician who keeps on turning these images out. Hats off to Isabelle. Good work. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 263
December 9, 2020 Good morning. Today I am writing with a greetings from the marsh which we are visiting today. But before the marsh, a word about Chiltipin Creek. I have to say – since I retired as a litigator, I had put behind me the frustration of dealing with the Texas Commission on Environmental Quality – the non-answer answers that good people receive to good questions. The frustration of listening to a group of analysts in Austin that have never been to the creek deciding the fate of the creek and Copano Bay. That powerlessness is real. It is what I have spent a lot of my career dealing with. It was a part of why I drank so much at an earlier time in my career when I came up against this powerful entity called the State of Texas that did not care if a creek was destroyed. I don’t blame the staff people – they are doing their job as described to them. It is really the state legislature that is to blame for this situation. I have watched good, well-intentioned TCEQ personnel get raked over the coals during the legislative session for daring to interfere with development – with jobs - by protecting the environment as the law instructs them to do. Wish it were different but it’s not. To win these battles, you just have to find a way – some way. This is how I learned to become a creative lawyer. Attack where they don’t expect. And stay aggressive. Always. On the other hand, enjoy today’s celebration of the marsh. We have a lot of marshes on the coast and for the most part, they are protected under federal law and are in amazingly good shape. Thank goodness for federal environmental law; without it, there would be little environmental protection in Texas. Be safe out there and stay connected. I was not kidding the other day when I said this holiday season may get tough with Covid complicating everything about life and living. Pay attention and don’t do something not very smart such as feeling guilty about not seeing some loved one and exposing yourself and them when you really don’t need to. We are getting closer to the vaccine. Hang in there. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 262
December 8, 2020 Hello campers. Yes – we are back at Camp Hideaway for our nasty visitor refuses to go away. And today we are going to talk about partying. Although it may seem a distant memory, I am sure you can remember what a party is – a social gathering of invited guests, usually involving eating, drinking and entertainment. And while human parties may be but a memory over these holidays, bird parties also exist and on a good day, you might be able to find one. They are great fun to observe. I am not quite sure how the invitation is sent, but there are often different species that are partying together, moving through an area eating and perhaps drinking a bit. One time I saw a group of cedar waxwings partying on some berries in our driveway at our old house. The berries had apparently fermented which they do after the first frost sometimes, and these birds were simply drunk. No doubt about it. Acting really silly with loss of motor control. I do not recommend you replicating their actions for it could be hazardous to your health. A couple fell to the ground, and they came around after a bit. But that would have been fatal had a local house cat been lurking. So – enjoy this poem about a bird party I encountered over Thanksgiving up at Wimberley and go find a bird party to join. It might be your best offer during this weird holiday season at the end of this weird year. And don’t forget – wear a mask, keep social distances and don’t take unnecessary risks. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 261
December 7, 2020 Hello all. Well, the holidays are approaching, and there is no easy way of saying this – they could be tough. Covid is raging and is anticipated to be even worse over the holidays. And while I am trying to lighten the mood by playing off of this wonderful image by Isabelle, today brings an important message. It will be hard over the holidays to keep our virus guard up. Christmas parties and Hanukkah events are a tradition. Family gatherings the same. Trips to fun places. Hanging with others. New year celebrations (and we all will be happy to see 2021). The holidays are a hard time for many even without Covid, and with Covid, the holiday season of 2020 could be really hard. So I turn to becoming and staying sober as the subject of today’s poem which I titled unsurprisingly as Sobriety. I know I talk quite a bit about becoming sober back in 1986, but it was certainly a turning point in my life, and there are days when I look back in amazement that I actually quit drinking and still don’t. I’m not pushy about it, but I simply can’t handle it. Others can and that’s great. The relevance to Covid and to our current situation is that rather than feeling as if I was going without something when I quit drinking, I instead found a way of thinking – a way of living life - that ended up being much better for me. And most importantly – and I mean most importantly – I learned how to ask for help. I asked Garland for help. I asked friends for help. I asked the bay and what eventually became Earth Church for help. Many of us are going to need help over the holidays – help in all sorts of different ways – help in coping with loneliness, help in finding cheer, help in fighting back the Covid blues. And if you can find inspiration in nature, it can be a real eye opener. So today’s poem is about seeking help, and asking for help. In my case, I write it about sobriety, but it applies to many different situations for which we need help. And for those who are interested, the Chiltipin Creek wastewater hearing is tonight starting at 7:00 p.m. The link is https://www.gotomeeting.com/webinar/join-webinar and entering Webinar ID 201-165-163. It is recommended that you join the webinar and register for the public meeting at least 15 minutes before the meeting begins. Now be safe out there. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 260
December 6, 2020 Today we are celebrating Buffalo Bayou, a Houston landmark, a centerpiece of our economic heritage as well as of our cultural and metaphysical heritage, for Buffalo Bayou is the beating heart of Houston. In spite of its muddy appearance, it is a place full of life now that we have cleaned it up, with a tip of the hat to the Clean Water Act. Buffalo Bayou was saved by the efforts of Terry Hershey who was the actual and spiritual leader of the Houston environmental community into the early 21st Century, who along with two interesting allies – George H.W. Bush and George Mitchell – managed to save Buffalo Bayou from channelization by the Corps in the late 1960s, a specter that has recently arisen again – a specter that has united the Houston community – environmentalists and developers, republicans and democrats – into opposition to such action. And that is an amazing thing. To me, it feels like Houston is evolving, beginning to adopt a culture of protection and preservation as a shared community value. To me, that is a sign of Houston maturing, becoming the city that many of us have always felt it could be, should be and may yet be. Anyway, I am hopeful about Buffalo Bayou and have written today’s poem about it. Be safe out there. And stay connected. And beneath the poem, you will find a beautiful photograph sent in by reader Rob Cromie that he titled First Freeze Near LaGrange, a wonderful view of a temple of Earth Church. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 259
December 5, 2020 Good morning campers. We’re back in Camp Hideaway, and we need to stay vigilant. The pressure is mounting on all of us to be lax – to take a chance that we would not have taken back in April or May yet the Covid numbers now are much worse. Reach out. Talk to someone. I know we are all getting zoomed out but use it or other systems. They do work. Write to Isabelle and me. Keep engaged. Today’s poem is about the marathon that the prairie runs and the same is true of us. This Covid situation is not a sprint. It’s a longer race, and it’s a race for our lives. I just heard about a woman younger than myself who survived Covid, and who has been told her lungs will never be the same. This disease is nasty. It kills. Now – enough about Covid. Today we visit our second ecosystem in this series – the prairie in the fall. The fall and winter prairie is a very different organism than the spring and summer prairie, particularly in the fall after the first freeze which is the subject of today’s poem. One reason I am enjoying this vigil is that the writing – and the search for material – is causing me to open my eyes and take in my environment to a greater extent. Sometimes enjoying life – having a better day – is as simple as opening our eyes and being open to seeing what’s around us. Take care. Blackburn.. | ||
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DAY 258
December 4, 2020 And we meet again. So rise up and meet the day. Go plug into the sun and recharge your batteries. The sun’s bright and new, just waiting to shine on you. Go kiss the air, stretch those muscles, and prepare for the day that’ll require you to hustle. And bustle. And move fast and quick. Jack jump over the candlestick. Well – I guess I should have warned you that a chain of consciousness was coming. Sometimes it works better than others, but then again, it’s day 258 so maybe a bit of slack is in order. Now the artist – she’s cooking right along. Today she has painted a lovely forest with the forest floor covered in shadow, in darkness. Unlike the prairie and the marsh, you can’t see far into or through the forest. It is mysterious, at once inviting and foreboding, and it is more than just trees basking in their photosynthetic capabilities, making wood out of carbon dioxide – as it turns out, there’s a lot more going on in there. So enjoy today’s tribute to the forest. And while you are at it, don’t forget that Covid lurks. I was listening to some music today – something bluesy and country – and I got to thinking I need to write a poem called The Covid Blues. But what image can the artist conjure to illustrate the Covid Blues – not the blues from sickness but the blues from the isolation, the separateness, the loss of the culture that we knew. But then again, maybe not poem and painting material, but it emphasizes a point. Be safe. This is not over yet by a long shot. Keep the defense up. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 257
December 3, 2020 Good morning all. We have just made it through one of our first cool patches of the end of the year and Garland is telling me it is too cold to be out camping, and I must admit to being very cold-natured, so the camp facility may close every now and then due to weather, but don’t fear, the vigil will be vigilant, reaching out across the chasms of separateness. Well – that might be a bit overblown, but you get the idea. It’s all about connectivity. That was our starting point. That’s what’s important. And as you know by now, nature is my connectivity. There is simply nothing like it – to reach out and experience life is like a shock of electricity to my system. It can even feel physical, usually in the form of waves going through my brain, probably the release of endorphins. Endorphin release mechanism. The Earth and connectivity. Experiencing the Earth. Breathing in the Earth. Feeling it all the way down deep inside my being. Nice. And now for an old favorite, the whooping crane – a bird we encountered on our recent fishing trip to Matagorda Bay, and what a nice surprise that was. So fine. Be safe out there. We have vaccines coming, and now we have to understand the fine print – How many times do we need the shots? How long until they are effective? What does effective mean? While this is all good news, it does not appear to be absolute protection, but rather a means for reducing the severity of the disease should you get it. We’ll see how this develops. In the meantime, wear your masks, stay socially distanced and don’t lose it here at the end. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 256
December 2, 2020 Good morning campers. Meet Jack. Mr. Jackrabbit. A swift runner. A crafty trickster. A vegetarian. What’s not to like about Jack? I am interested in stories about jackrabbits if you have any. I was intrigued in the little bit of research that I did about the jackrabbit that there were not more stories out there about unique jackrabbit experiences. I know that they are not shy like the wild cats. I can remember landing one time at the Midland or Lubbock airport and seeing dozens of pairs of long ears sticking up from the grass adjacent to the runways. And although their range is indicated as extending all the way over to the edge of East Texas, I don’t see them on our drives between Houston and Wimberley or around the Wimberley area where our place is. Where I have seen them is west of the Hill Country on the High Plains and in the Trans-Pecos region. And their big ears make me smile. So be safe out there and keep in touch. Stay connected. We are the home stretch of this vigil. Don’t stop now. The vaccine is starting to be distributed. But the virus is hitting harder than ever as I’m sure you know. Just don’t forget it. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 255
December 1, 2020 Well campers. Welcome back for another day of fun and frolic at Camp Hideaway. And today I want to put things into perspective to start off. On the news yesterday, I heard about a doctor that is working on the Covid ward at a hospital somewhere, and he was saying he had been working over 250 days without a day off treating Covid patients. When I hear about someone like that (and you know many of our nurses and doctors have similar stories), it puts Isabelle’s and my 255 days of writing poems and painting images into a bit of perspective. There are many out there who are walking a hard path right now, and we don’t appreciate them nearly enough. So today as we celebrate the bottlenose dolphin in poem and paint, think about those folks – teachers and emergency personnel included – and take a moment of appreciation. I am sure that the dolphin would clap its flippers because dolphins seem clued in to kindness. And they are smart. I was out fishing one time with Marshal and JC down near Port Aransas along the Lydia Ann channel when we started catching speckled trout, some of which were undersized which we tossed back. And suddenly, we heard a huge splash behind us, and then another, and then we realized that a small pod of dolphins had come up behind us and were waiting for us to toss the undersized trout back where they pounced on them, feeding happily on our rejects. They could easily have had a feast on their own, but chose to fish with us for a while. And it makes me smile every time I recall it. Smart mammals (and I’m talking about us). Now be safe out there and enjoy this poetic tale of an encounter between fishermen and a dolphin down the coast. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 254
November 30, 2020 Hello campers. As you know by now, Isabelle and I and Garland and JC really fell in love with India, so Camp Hideaway is celebrating Diwali today, a few weeks late, but better late than never. Diwali is the festival of lights celebrated by Hindus, Jains and Sikhs, and the artist sent me this painting a few weeks back with a note that it was for Diwali. And I have finally gotten around to trying to do justice to this wonderful spirit shrine – this shrine of light and power. Diwali is about the celebration of good over evil and there are all sorts of variations involving various Gods and various battles. But for me, the battle is an internal one – a battle of the spirit – a battle for the spirit - a battle to keep the spirit alive and full of fire which is the source of my light, and today the spirit light is burning. So enjoy this tribute to light – to spirit light and to the sun’s light which is the ultimate light and power for the Earth. There is nothing more righteous than plugging into the sun – physically and metaphysically. And today, I’m plugged in and enjoying every minute as I am looking out my writing window here at Wimberley and watching light being brought to my portion of the Earth, making the green of the oaks and cedar on the hillside become known to me even as the oaks before me are still dark, shadowed, indistinct. A new day and light has once again come. So work on your spirit light and fire as I take you to one source of spirit power. Enjoy and be safe out there. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 253
November 29, 2020 Hello all. Day 253. The start of the 37th week of the virus vigil – 70% of a year. Today I am thinking back on this ¾ of a year, and I am glad that Isabelle and I decided to go on this virus vigil with you. I also appreciate your giving me the opportunity to share with you my thoughts about Earth Church. The term Earth Church originated in my discovery of a higher power when I was getting sober back in the mid-1980s. The more I realized the spiritual power of the natural environment for me, the more interested I became in the religious connections that existed between Christianity (the religion in which I was raised) and the environment – studying the books on Earthkeeping and Care for Creation that came out in the early to mid-1980s – understanding that there is a basis for love and care for the environment in almost all religions. At one point I recall researching ways to link protection of the environment as an environmental lawyer and the audience that existed in Texas that I would be making arguments to. I probably still have in my office the two large ring binders of religious material gathered for me by a graduate student summer intern - material from all Christian denominations and the Jewish and Islamic, Hindu and Buddhist traditions. Shintoism even. And out of all that information, all those positions, came the creation of a church devoted to the Earth. No pretense, no argument about what it was consistent or inconsistent with - just love and affection and gratefulness and thankfulness for life and being alive on this wonderful planet we call Earth. Thank you all for listening to me and hearing the song of Earth Church which today will be sung by our soloist, the Hermit Thrush. And don’t forget to be safe out there. And if Isabelle happens to paint or I happen to write something that touches you, don’t be shy. You can share. You can enjoy connectuality. We certainly do. With great affection. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 252
November 28, 2020 Camp Hideaway is back on the bay for Day 252, and a lovely day it is, a day we will spend on the oyster reef, one of my favorite places in the bay. Oysters are the kidneys of the bay, filtering the water, removing impurities. In terms of ecological services, the cleansing services of the oyster reef are superb but that’s not all that oysters do. Oysters provide a breakwater for coastal landowners, protecting them from erosion which can be intense on some of our shorelines. And oysters also provide wonderful habitat for all types of marine organisms, including the predator species like speckled trout that are so valued by fishermen. How about a gift card where someone gifts another a piece of the reef? Think it has a future? I do know this. I have sat in my kayak and watched the tide come into the reef and watched the birds show up before the tide noticeably moves and they can perceive it before I have a clue it is happening. The oyster reef has all types of life around it, and when the tide moves, currents swirl through the reef, bringing with it shrimp and small crabs and small finfish that are delicacies for the larger predator fish prized by fishermen. And the birds on the reef are also neat – the egrets and herons waiting to pick off small fish moving into the openings that are filling with water, and later, their feet submerged, the waders standing as silent beacons to the reef’s location. I really like the oyster reef and I hope you enjoy my tribute to it as well. Stay safe. Covid lurks and stalk us all. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 251
November 27, 2020 Well hello again campers. Today we are camping in the native prairie of Texas, a gorgeous ecosystem often overlooked because it lacks perhaps the glamour of the other systems like the estuary or the marsh or the bottomland forests or the pine forests. And there is also the fact that here is not much truly native prairie around anymore. Today, the prairie fairy is back by popular demand, and she is my guide and yours through the prairie ecosystem, and what an adventure we have in store. In order to create an adventure worthy of the prairie fairy, you have to have an image to work with and my how our artist Isabelle has come through with today’s painting. She painted this in response to a request from me, but after studying and getting into this image, I abandoned my original plan for the poem, which was along the lines of the carbon sequestration story you have likely heard many variations of and decided to have a bit more fun with the poem, the image and the concepts. I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed putting it together. And a tip of the hat to Ann Hamilton who often reads these poems before I send them out who sort of put thumbs down on my first version which was much more pedestrian. Ann and Garland help me keep the quality of these poems up a bit by at least sending rejection notices on the worst of them every so often, which really helps because it is easy to lose perspective after these many days. And to all of you out there, I want to say I really appreciated the outpouring of emails over the last two days, both wishing me and Isabelle happy Thanksgiving as well as responding to my pain-filled offering about Daddy Doyle and Hilmar. I will be publishing one of the responses I received tomorrow, I think. You readers out there really astound and impress me. We have a nice back and forth going here. And be safe. The Thanksgiving super spreader event is a trap you want to avoid. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 250
November 26, 2020 Well campers, happy Thanksgiving, and we have much to be thankful for, although it may be a bit hard to find these jewels that we so often simply take for granted. I believe most receiving this vigil have enough to eat and water and shelter. All are not so fortunate. We live in a society where many have plenty, and we often are removed from those that are not so fortunate. A contribution to a local food bank or food distribution service might be in order. The painting, as you can see, is a finger turkey, something that some of you learned as kids. We didn’t learn that down in the Valley, but then we were behind on a few other things as well, although I am sure finger turkeys were the least of it. Garland and I were talking about turkeys and Thanksgiving and what the poem was going to be today, and we decided I should try to integrate two great turkey moments from Wimberley into the Thanksgiving poem. Hope you enjoy and I hope you have an excellent Thanksgiving, and don’t forget the thanks part – it’s really what this day is about as well as family which many cannot enjoy as we continue our Covid-driven separateness. But safety is most important – we don’t have that long before the vaccine begins to be distributed and that will be an excellent result. I am not sure that we will ever return to where we were, but it will be wonderful to once again be able to hug friends and family. I’ve missed that. And we should all be thankful for the seemingly peaceful transfer of power in this country that has begun. May it continue. Amen. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 249
November 25, 2020 Hello campers. Today I am sharing with you a loss that occurred to me and Garland and several of you receiving this daily vigil. Two friends – Doyle Perkinson and Hilmar (H.G.) Moore passed away last week, and I will miss them, and I have written a poem about them and what they meant to me – good men, good people. It is hard to find positives in a situation such as this. I believe in reincarnation of some type or another, but given the choice, I would prefer to stay here in this form of life for as long as I am able and can enjoy living. What happens after death has been a concern – perhaps THE concern - of humans for as long as we have been conscious of ourselves. Religions develop around these ideas, and there is no proof, no science that defines this area. It is truly the realm of belief, and I choose to believe a certain way because it fits the way I perceive – the way I understand - the Earth. I am not pushy about my view. It’s not fact like climate change or spreading Covid. It is a true belief structure. I react strongly and negatively to those who push their beliefs on others – who insist that we conform to theirs. There is more than enough room on this Earth for variety, for differing opinions about what happens after death, yet many millions have died over the years over belief – religious convictions vying for souls or perhaps for the donations that the souls offer for various concepts of salvation. Give me freedom of thought. Give me freedom of choice. Give me freedom of religion. Earth Church is my higher power. It is what I choose. It brings me peace and calms my soul. I share it with you but don’t insist. You are welcome to be a couch potato and just read about Earth Church, but it’s better to experience it, to suck it deep into your soul and let it fly you out into the universe and back in a matter of a heartbeat or two. And speaking of Earth Church, I am enclosing a photo from that moment when we turned the corner from the Intracoastal Waterway into Matagorda Bay and saw the sun halfway above the horizon – a photo taken by friend Jack. Enjoy this poem of friendship and loss and stay safe out there. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 248
November 24, 2020 Hello all. I’m feeling renewed having been to Matagorda Bay and what a wonderful day it was. I will remember for a long time the view as we turned east out of the Gulf Intracoastal Waterway and entered Matagorda Bay where we were met by a sun that was halfway above the horizon, sending the most beautiful light I have seen in a long time across the calm waters of Matagorda Bay where a flock of Forster’s terns worked the water. Thus began one of the better days I’ve enjoyed in a temple of Earth Church in a long time. So your poet is smooth today, and sends out a message of tranquility, love and hope for the future, buoyed by the fact that Biden’s election has been confirmed by the GSA and approved for transition, something that had to happen for there to be peace on Earth, so all is now good. And even if you did not vote for Biden, I urge you to be happy that the transition has begun, for it needed to occur for the good of us all. As for Chiltipin Creek, the topic of today, there will be a public meeting on the proposed wastewater discharge permit requested by Steel Dynamics to discharge into this wonderful little creek. You can attend remotely on December 7 at 7 p.m. This is not a video conference but simply audio only, via phone or computer. The meeting consists of 2 sections: 1) Information will be presented to those attending, and 2) after that, members of the public may make their comments or objections. The web address for the meeting is: https://www.gotomeeting.com/webinar/join-webinar. Enter webinar ID No. 201-165-163. (It is recommended that the public join the webinar and register for the meeting at least 15 minutes before the meeting begins.). The permit itself may be viewed at: http://www.sdisinton.com. I will be sending additional information soon on writing a letter of opposition if you are so inclined, including facts and analysis about why The Aransas Project thinks that this discharge is a bad idea. And don’t forget to be safe out there. Covid rages on. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 247
November 23, 2020 Hello campers. Day 247. Today I am writing about yet another aspect of the trip to Chiltipin Creek. On this trip, we met the Moon Jelly, a type of jelly I rarely see. It’s translucent – you can see into it – and it is a flat, floating disc that seems to lack any form of propulsion, just riding with the tide. In writing this poem, I did a little reading about the moon jelly and discovered that it has the ability to reverse the aging process, just like in the movie Benjamin Button. Except this is for real. There seems to be agreement some jellyfish are immortal – that they have ability to become young again. On the other hand, these jellies have some real limitations – they are dependent upon the tide to move them. But they do have this amazing ability. I am surprised I have not heard more about this ability of the moon and other jellies to reverse aging. It would seem that if there were a critter of Earth Church to engender a following, it might be this one. And in writing about the moon jelly, I got to the thinking about choice – that we do differ from the moon jelly in that we have an incredible number of choices that we as humans have before us. Choices about how we live our lives, choices about whether our glass is half full or half empty. Choices about how we treat each other. Choices about being grateful for being alive to participate in this wonderful place we call Earth. Choices about whether we will stand up and lend a voice or other types of support for Chiltipin Creek. Choice about acceptable behavior. If you had the choice, would you choose choice about how you live life in exchange for immortality, or immortality if it meant less choice? We do have choice about wearing masks and being safe. For your sake and mine, please do both. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 246
November 22, 2020 Welcome to Day 246. Today we are back on Chiltipin Creek, and it is a great journey. Really first class outdoor adventure. I am preparing an information sheet to send to all of you about the Chiltipin public meeting that is coming up on December 7. However, a public meeting is only a first step. The Aransas Project intends to file a contested case request and we will see if we can get a trial-type hearing on this permit. Environmental groups are not always allowed to get these hearings – it’s not automatic. So in addition to getting comments in by December 7, we are going to be working on this hearing request. In today’s poem, I am laughing at myself – at the fact that among friends, I am often challenged on my bird sighting claims. And with good reason. I don’t go enough to be truly excellent, but I have a good idea of the ball park, although one time I made a dramatic pronouncement about some rare bird I just saw that turned out to be a mockingbird. It is not necessary to be an expert to enjoy birding. All you need is a desire to meet the members of Earth Church and come out and allow your spirit to be filled with the wonder of life. On another note, I am off to the Earth Church temple that is Matagorda Bay this morning which might explain the early delivery of the vigil. I have finished the classes at Rice this semester and have finished a short course I was offering so I am feeling a bit less pressure, and maybe I can now relax and let these poems flow because the vigil must persevere. We are not through anytime soon. Stay connected out there. Reach out and tell someone you care for them. Send out a bit of love and attention. And be open to receiving the same. Until Day 247. Blackburn | ||
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DAY 245
November 21, 2020 Calling all campers, calling all campers. Camp Hideaway is going on a trip back to Chiltipin Creek. We have been twice before with the Green Kingfisher (Day 205 - https://www.jimblackburninfo.com/virus-vigil.html) and the Gators of Chiltipin (Day 236) but today we are starting a four-day trip, beginning with the cabbage head and including the Moon Jelly, Couch’s Kingbird and Forster’s Tern. So for the next four days, we will be immersed in this wonderful little jewel that flows from Sinton (a bit north of Corpus and south of Refugio) to merge with the Aransas River and then continue into Copano Bay. This boat trip up the creek with guide Brian Holden was among the more fascinating and impactful nature tours of the Texas coast that I have experienced. I have seen many neat places and perhaps it was due to being cooped up in Camp Hideaway, but for whatever reason, this place blew me away. Over the next few days, I will be talking a bit about the upcoming public meeting that the Texas Commission on Environmental Quality will be conducting about the wastewater discharge permit requested by Steel Dynamics, Southwest, LLC. I have been in a lot of fights like this one. They are hard to win. The system is set up to issue permits, but they can be defeated with numbers, a bit of politics and some first class science and law. And we have to offer an alternative solution. I have learned you have to do more than make good arguments. You have to fix it so the jobs and economic development can occur – at least that’s my experience so far in Texas. So we have some serious work ahead of us. I will try to guide you as best I can. The watch words are: Be smart, Be loud, Be strong. And smile and be safe out there. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 244
November 20, 2020 Good morning campers. Day 244. And I have to tell you one of the really neat aspects of this vigil has been my interaction with Isabelle, or often, non-interaction. It is not like we plan these paintings and poems, but rather like we are on the same sunbeam and just connect with each other and often with some or all of you. Imagine how neat it is for me to open an email titled “Monarch Life Cycle” and receive this gift of a painting about which to write a poem. I didn’t know it was coming and I was really happy to see it – to embrace it – to write it. The monarch is a spirit pairing with me (I have many if you haven’t noticed). I am fascinated by all aspects of it and its migration. The fact is that the butterfly that starts the migration will likely not be the butterfly that ends up in the winter or summer home because there are as many as five generations of eggs that may be laid and reproduced within one migratory cycle. With monarchs, as I understand it, the family does not migrate together. Instead, the young come out of the chrysalis and know where to go. Simply amazing. But they must have milkweed and there is now a conservation effort underway to preserve a patchwork of prairie grasslands (hello BCarbon) to provide a migratory corridor replete with rest stops. What a neat idea. I like the concept of the monarch and its life cycle as a metaphor for our economic future which must be transformative. And I must admit to loving the sight of a yellow and black caterpillar eating one of our plants in the yard right next to my outdoor office. Garland will often call me over to show me another new caterpillar eating away. And then the plant with no leaves – just a stalk – and us wondering where the caterpillar went to create the chrysalis. Every time I see that scence I think of my father – the seed salesman – the man who believed in pesticides and fertilizers – and I can see him looking at me saying “Son, what have you done, letting that caterpillar eat that lovely plant.” That image comes up every time I see a butterfly weed that has been destroyed, only to really smile again when the monarch emerges and the plant grows new leaves. And now on a different note - I hate to admit it, but our Covid situation appears only to be worsening with no immediate end in sight. Isabelle – keep painting. We’re likely looking at spring before the vigil ends if then. We’ll see how our art and poetry flow holds out as we move into winter. Be safe. And coming for the next four days – more poems from our Chiltipin Creek trip and updates on the TCEQ public meeting which will be December 7. Stay tuned. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 243
November 19, 2020 Hello there. Happy Thursday, Day 243. I feel that things are flying really fast. Zoom allows many aspects to occur very quickly. Today I want to focus again on the spiritual, a topic of which I never tire. And there is a companion of spirituality called hope. As I discovered spirituality, I also gained hope. They came together. They are partners. And today the poem is about spiritual partners, and I will admit to thinking of me and Garland as I wrote this poem, but I think the concepts could apply to any living entity with which you connect spiritually, including a beautiful bird or your dog or cat. As I think of the spiritual, it is the same regardless of life-type. Life equals the potential for spirit and spiritual connection. If we thought like that across humanity, I think it would transform us in many ways. I also learned a new word today as I was waiting my turn to speak to the Garden Club of America about the carbon work we are doing at Baker Institute (BCarbon). A very interesting man named Richard Louv preceded me and talked about prospection – about the visualization of alternative futures. Good stuff. Good word. He also talked about imaginative hope – a good word combination. I thought he was quite good, and it was a pleasure to present after him about a possible future that involves ranchers getting paid for removing and storing carbon dioxide from the atmosphere. The positive potential futures are unlimited from my prospection perspective, promised promptly. 😊 Be safe. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 242
November 18, 2020 Good morning campers. Day 242. I am writing this morning with a smile on my face. As hard as these times seem, we have such good prospects ahead. I believe that so many of the thoughts and ideas that I have focused on throughout my career are lining up to come to fruition. This is not about politics which could be the fly in my ointment. My optimism comes from market trends as well as the wonderful young people I get to associate with at Rice. I smiled this morning when I wrote that this is Day 242 of the virus vigil because a young woman named Camille who works with me and who set up the virus vigil web site (https://www.jimblackburninfo.com/virus-vigil.html) every now and then sends me this sweet email saying “Blackburn, you got the day wrong today on the vigil.” And last night, my graduate student Alyssa made a cameo appearance in a continuing studies course I teach called the Green Future, and she was great. There’s good stuff coming. So if we can just save jewels of the Earth like Chiltipin Creek until the reinforcements come, I think the reality of the future will be quite different. And we are undertaking holding actions until the change comes – have no doubt. I often think that environmentalists have failed to paint a positive image of the future – to help the public understand what a green future is like. Perhaps Isabelle and I have done a bit of this with these meditations. I hope so. The neat thing is that I can see it very clearly in so many ways, and to my mind, it is all good. Today’s poem was inspired by Isabelle’s image of a doorway into a space for meditation. In this poem, I again mention alcoholism and how getting sober was so important to me. I don’t want to beat this issue to death, but it was truly life-changing for me. I am not against drinking. It’s just not good for me. So please don’t interpret my discussion about alcoholism as judgmental of others. It’s not. My response to my problem opened a door to me, and I am now in a vast, wonderful space and could not be happier. So, now, let’s enter the door to the tiny meditation space and – to shamelessly borrow from Jim Morrison and The Doors – let’s break on through to other side. Be safe. Covid lurks. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 241
November 17, 2020 Hello campers. When I got this image from Isabelle (another sketchbook painting) and started thinking about today’s topic which is help, the Beatles came to mind, and it made me think of how much I missed John Lennon. I always preferred the Rolling Stones to the Beatles, but over the last five years or so, I have gone back over some of the songs John Lennon released after he left the Beatles and went solo or with Yoko. The words and the philosophy conveyed by those words are what I have come to admire – a man of principle, a man who had a view of life that he lived his way and I appreciate that. As for today’s topic of HELP – simply consider that it is the hardest word that many of us will ever utter. I was raised to take care of myself, to not ask for help for that was a sign of weakness, and nothing could be further from the truth as I have come to understand it. Failure to ask for help – failure to realize I needed help – failure to give myself permission to ask for help - almost kept me from finding this wonderful place where I exist in the church of the Earth with Garland these days. All I can say is that asking for help kept me alive through the dark days of my late 30s and helped me become who I am today. Earth Church, Garland and JoAnn (my counselor) came when I asked for help and to this day I am grateful. Looking back, I am often amazed that I took that step, and I can’t explain exactly how it happened, but it did. So remember to ask for help. It works. And be safe out there. Help may be on its way relative to Covid but it is not here yet. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 240
November 16, 2020 Hello campers. Today is day 240, and that is hard for me to believe – hard to believe that we are still hiding from the virus after this many days - hard to believe that we keep coming up with material for the vigil. Today it’s the generic squirrel – not a fox squirrel, not a gray squirrel, just a squirrel. Or if you are on the Rice campus, a fat squirrel, except they have been on a bit of a diet with Covid, but folks still manage to slip them some food. There were no squirrels that I can recall in South Texas where I spent my youth, but there were certainly squirrels in Louisiana and they were hunted. I can remember a hunt in the bottomlands along Spring Creek hunting squirrels and woodcock and wood ducks, and we walked the bottomlands for many hours, sitting every now and then, and did not see a single squirrel. These were lands that anyone could hunt and the squirrels were very smart. I’ll never forget when my parents came to visit Garland and me in Houston shortly after we moved into our house not far from Rice and my father and I were talking and the squirrels seemed to be in every tree and my father started grinning and said well, this certainly isn’t Louisiana, cause none of them would be around. Those of us living in the city can be very far from the reality of living off of the land, of supplementing your food supply with hunting and fishing skills that could feed your family as needed. Many of my views of hunting and fishing were forged from that background, and even today when I practice catch and release fishing up in the lake behind our cabin, I find myself asking myself – without conscious thought – did I catch enough to feed the family? Interesting how a thought like that will creep into my head sixty or so years after it was planted. Today, I am much more concerned with stewardship, with protecting the predators as well as the prey, and keeping the balance ecologically and otherwise, but the thought comes nonetheless. Enjoy this tribute to the squirrel that has been so joyfully rendered by Isabelle who keeps sending images to me and helping churn the words that seem to come from some unknown place, jumping out at me and saying “my turn”. So be safe and let the squirrel have its turn. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 239
November 15, 2020 Well campers, we are back on the coast down in Rockport – the launching point for the boat trip up Chiltipin Creek. One of our stopping points was Big Tree, a weathered live oak on the Lamar Peninsula not far from Goose Island State Park. The live oaks that line the sandy ridge that Rockport sits upon are bent by the salt and the wind, and provide the setting for today’s painting by Isabelle who says these trees are her favorite part of Rockport, and they are certainly a part of that unique landscape that is among my favorites on the Texas coast. As you might have noticed, we are now post-election, awaiting transition. I feel like everyone is holding their breath a bit just wanting this process to unfold and for the country to move on. I don’t like the failure to provide a transition. I am used to legal challenges, but the law favors the possessor. Legal challenges can also be without merit. At some point, we need to stand up and declare who we are as a people. Are we going to put up with refusal in the face of overwhelming facts – refusal that puts our national security at jeopardy – refusal that puts our economy at risk – our safety – our very lives. I have lost enough battles to know that it feels really bad, but that is life. Life – it’s both wonderful and scary, horrifying and gratifying, the best and the worst, but it is what we have. Like the bent trees of Rockport, it is about survival, and for me, survival includes principles, honesty and love. There is good out there. Let’s all go find it. Be safe. Covid is after us all. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 238
November 14, 2020 Hello campers. Big trip today – all the way to India. Isabelle and Garland and John Chapman and I have made several trips to India and it remains one of the most wonderful, mystical places I have ever encountered. I simply loved India – and nothing about India did I enjoy more than the spirituality which was everywhere – true spirituality of a type I never encountered in the Baptist church of my upbringing – a church that seemed to be more about fear than love. I have developed my own views of spirituality which focus more on creation or re-creation of self, of who and what we are and why we are – questions faced with love rather than fear, anticipation rather than hesitation, questions that we cannot answer but yet must try to answer and then feel better for the failure. Gandhi was but one of a multitude of spiritual figures and symbols we encountered in India, persons such as the guru we encountered deep in the Indian forest sitting at the base of a magnificent tree that pilgrims hiked hundreds of miles to visit – spiritual like the wreaths of marigolds draped proudly around a neighborhood tree – spiritual like the tiger walking as the jungle raised their voices in tribute. Isabelle sent this painting with the title For Gandhi and this poem is for Gandhi, inspired by Gandhi – perhaps about a yet-to-be Gandhi. Be safe. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 237
November 13, 2020 Well, campers. Today is for you coffee drinkers out there as we are painting and writing poetry about . . . coffee beans. Let’s all say a word of thanks for coffee beans and the beverage it produces. I may not drink alcohol anymore, but I do enjoy coffee, and I know from your responses over these 237 days that many if not most of you also enjoy a cup made from brewing a bean from a shrub from the tropics. According to my internet sources, coffee originated in Yemen in the 15th Century from beans from Ethiopia. The beans were roasted and served in a Sufi temple. Now, digging deeper, one discovers that Sufism is the center of Islamic mysticism. According to Wikipedia, Sufis “strive for ihsan (perfection of worship), as detailed in a hadith: "Ihsan is to worship Allah as if you see Him. . .” . And now I know why they needed coffee – to see God. It all makes perfect sense. So – as you sit there sipping your direct link to God, enjoy today’s poem and be safe out there. Life is wonderful. We are living through a tough year. Drink more coffee. Talk with God, or just go out and enjoy Earth Church. And by all means, reach out and talk to others. And be safe. A lot of people are getting sick out there. Be smart. And have another cup. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 236
November 12, 2020 Wake up, wake up, wake up. Day 236. Grab a cup of coffee and have a seat. As you know, I have been concerned about the steel mill’s wastewater discharge down Chiltipin Creek. Well – about the time we went up the creek, we received information that the wastewater treatment plant was being constructed as indicated by a video on the web site as of October 20 and that there was no authorization to construct that had been issued by the Texas Commission on Environmental Quality (TCEQ) as required by Texas law. A group that I am now President of – The Aransas Project or TAP – has filed a written complaint with the TCEQ and have asked them to investigate. We also have written the lawyer for the plant who is in Indiana asking that they voluntarily cease and desist from further construction. We’ll see what happens. They have responded that they really aren’t “building” the wastewater plant, just clearing the land, doing site preparation, etc., but we’ll see. The point is that this plant and its discharge could be really harmful to this creek, to Copano Bay and to the whooping cranes, and these issues need to be brought to the attention of the agency. I have attached a copy of a press release that went out yesterday evening. I did have a few of you ask to whom should donation checks to made out and the answer is The Aransas Project. Mailing address is 2116 Albans Road, Houston TX 77005. And thanks for considering this request. Any amount would be appreciated. It will be an expensive fight. In the meantime, enjoy today’s painting of the alligator and the poem - “The Gators of Chili Petine”. This one was really fun to write and much more fun to research. Get out and enjoy Earth Church and continue to be aware of Covid. And stay connected. We have all been at this much too long, but that’s where we are. Blackburn. | ||||
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DAY 235
November 11, 2020 Day 235 and we campers are getting up and making our beds and marching out for another day that will be Covid-free. Good morning campers. Wipe those eyes. Shake and shimmy a bit. Smile. Relax. It’s going to be a good day of life and living. I’ve been visiting Earth Church and I am feeling downright chipper. Yes indeed. Time for all of you out there to come alive. I would love to hear a collective roar from the vigilant ones (that’s you in case you missed that). And it’s all good fun. So roar. Walk outside and make some noise. Prove to yourself that you are alive and making a bit of noise today. Not too much. Just enough to send a few loud waves into the outside air. Now – that should have felt good if you didn’t feel too silly doing it. And if you did feel silly, well, maybe you are taking yourself a tad too seriously. Oh yeah – shake it out. So – you are now ready to take a journey with me and Isabelle, and what a lovely boat she has created for us to sail. So shake those Covid blues and come sail with us into infinity. Be safe out there. Don’t forget your connectuality, and don’t forget to smile. Smiling makes those endorphins flow and they are good for you and me and all of us. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 234
November 10, 2020 Hello campers. Camp Hideaway is back in session for Day 234 and today we are going “up the creek” and vistiting Chiltipin Creek which, according to our excellent guide Brian Holden, is pronounced chili petine by at least some of the locals. By the way, Brian is a great fishing guide and proved to be an excellent birding guide from the water going up the creek so if you have the urge, check him out or ask me for his contact information. And what a wonderful trip it was, starting with the Forster’s terns dropping down into the estuary one after another, a line of feeding terns, solid action, and continuing up the creek to see a great horned owl highlighted at the top of a tree with horns fully raised, multiple ospreys, most of the egrets and herons, roseate spoonbills, eastern phoebes, Couch’s kingbird, kiskadees and the stars of the day – the belted and green kingfishers – along with several varieties of hawks and one vermillion flycatcher. But more than the birds was the ecology - this creek is spectacular – shrimp in the lower portion, minnows everywhere in the upper portion, redfish and trout where the Aransas and Chiltipin come together, alligators and alligator gar – both large - up the creek, spartina patens marsh edge where the rivers come together, gradating into retama, mesquite and huiscache as the banks became steeper and ending with wooded steep banks with ash and hackberry on the banks and freshwater wetland plants here and there at the edge. Without a doubt, this is one of the more interesting riparian ecosystems I have encountered in a long time. It would be a tragedy for this creek to be killed by a discharge from the new proposed steel plant, and I have no doubt that it will be killed unless we as a coastal community – we as Texans – stand up and say no to this proposed discharge. I am not opposed to the steel plant itself, but I am opposed to the discharge. A deep well injection permit would work. Land application of waste water might work with several large holding ponds. But dumping heavy metals into this creek that flows into a very special estuary should simply not be allowed. To oppose this plant will require the collective efforts of many. We have already discovered that this plant has already started building its wastewater treatment plant, and we believe they have done so without necessary approval from the state. The Aransas Project has filed a complaint with the Texas Commission on Environmental Quality (TCEQ). We’ll see what they do if anything. But we need to stand up and stop this plant’s discharge, and we need some young blood to show up and take this challenge on. If you are such a person, get hold of me. You have my email. Several of you were kind enough to send in donations and they are appreciated and will be well used. If you would like to send in a donation, send it 2116 Albans Rd., Houston 77005. In the meantime, be safe and enjoy today’s poem about Earth church which I really enjoyed yesterday. That was a great service. Now be safe out there. Covid lurks so be vigilant. And as some have asked, the website to find the other 233 virus vigils is https://www.jimblackburninfo.com/virus-vigil.html. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 233
November 9, 2020 Hello campers. Today we are going to art school, and our instructor Isabella is going to let us into her secret lair – the sketch book. This is actually from a class that Isabella is taking and the exercise was on shape and color and she chose the ball moss to work with because it is round. And you can see how she is playing with shape and color on these two pages which I think are really neat and certainly different from what you have seen these previous 232 days. I have other work from her sketch book from Africa and we might be able to find some from India also I might start interspersing some of that art and poetry as it seems that this virus vigil will not end during this year. Isn’t that amazing – we have been involved with this virus vigil for almost eight months and we are consistently setting records in the U.S. for Covid cases right now. So hang in there – stay connected and stay safe and we will try to do our best. We are off to Chiltipin Creek for a reconnaissance trip today. I am very concerned about the impact of the steel mill’s wastewater on this temple of Earth Church. Bryan French has already given us a great preliminary report and I will follow that up with a further report. This is not a good situation. This discharge will be a problem for the creek and Copano Bay if we cannot alter it which I believe we have a chance to do. Stay tuned on the Earth Church channel. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 232
November 8, 2020 Well, hello again campers. The virus has not gone away, but the election chaos has calmed a bit. I know I am feeling much smoother than in the recent past, and I hope that we can all get behind Joe Biden and help him be President for all of us. As a reader of this camp literature, I think you know how I feel about hateful and vindictive behavior, but if there were any doubt, let me dispel it. I believe in the power of the positive – the power of love, of caring about others, of trying to do the right thing in whatever circumstance I find myself. I intend for my word to mean something. If I give you my word, it has meaning. And I am a devoted member of the Church of the Earth where we value science, ethics, morality and truth, not to mention the birds and the bunnies, the bees and the butterflies and all of you guys as well. After the announcement of the election results, it seems a collective sigh went out across the country. Let’s hope it can hold and improve. There are considerable tasks ahead – Covid, the economy and the climate – to name three, but the prairie fairy and I have got climate covered. Yes, you heard correctly – the prairie fairy is back by popular demand. The “prairie fairy” captured your collective imagination. Even the artist got into the act, sending me two different images that she felt appropriately conveyed the concept of the prairie fairy, including the one for today, and I knocked out a prairie fairy poem for this auspicious event of the election of Joe Biden and Kamala Harris after the slow and tedious and essential process of counting ballot after ballot sent in by those of us who believe in the United States, and I do. One might even imagine that the prairie fairy had a mystical hand in the election results – maybe the next poem. So stay connected and raise a glass or a just give a nod of appreciation for our process that so far seems to be more than able to pull us through a tough situation. Stay aware of Covid and mask up. It is certainly around. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 231
November 7, 2020 Hello campers. Camp Hideaway is open for business. Today we meet the prairie warbler and visit a very special little nature reserve on the Rice campus near the Texas Medical Center next to the track stadium. This little reserve now is getting some love from Rice, but for many years it just survived. It became part of my life after my open heart surgery in 2005. After that surgery which occurred just before Thanksgiving, I was weak, and started walking to build up strength. Over the weeks, I would walk further and further, and this little spot of prairie became part of my daily routine. I remember the day of my first jog – and the lump of gratitude in my throat. I remember visiting the prairie in the early spring of 2006 when the wildflowers came out, both of us emerging from winter. Today that memory is very real, and this poem about a recent adventure at this reserve is a tribute to this fine little place, a place that was recognized due to the attention of two professors – Walter Isle, an English professor who taught environmental literature and had a kind word to say about my early poetic efforts, and Paul Harcombe, my first ecology professor who taught me about natural cycles. Good men, good people, good memories. So I hope you enjoy this poem about an important prairie in the city, again paired with another of Isabelle’s wonderful efforts. And stay safe and connected out there. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 230
November 6, 2020 Good morning campers. Day 230. My Microsoft office went down yesterday, and I woke up to find it seems to be working now. I am sure I will be hearing from some of you if this daily message fails to penetrate the electronic infrastructure to arrive at your electronic device to shock you into another day of connectivity. And speaking of connectivity, I have heard from a few of you about how anxious you are about the election process – about where we are. And I get that, but I want to take you in another direction. Let’s focus for a minute on gratitude. Yesterday, I hosted a meeting of our Baker Institute BCarbon working group and asked Dr. Ken Medlock of the Center for Energy Studies to say a few words about the election and what it meant to the future of the oil and gas industry and our carbon sequestration concept. Rather than lament the current election situation, he started off by reminding us about the nature of democracy – that every vote counts. And what we are witnessing is the process of – literally – counting every vote. This is what has been and will continue to be great about the United States. Every vote counts. Is it perfect? No. Is it without dangers? No. But we have a tradition and those traditions appear to be holding, emerging and propelling us forward. That is the good news. Whether your candidate wins or loses, this is our system. And that brings us to today’s poem about legal conflict and the end result from those battles – about what “winning” sometimes looks like. This is a poem about restoration and regeneration – two topics that I am covering in my Rice class – two topics that offer hope for the future. Today I am realistic and grateful – grateful for my relationships with Garland, with the Earth, with my students, with the carbon working group – grateful for my relationship with myself – grateful that I am able to look at myself in the mirror today and not wince. And grateful for the connectuality that I have with all of you out there in Camp Hideaway. Grateful for the legal jousts that have contributed a new temple or two or three to Earth Church. So give me a big smile back and take a moment to be grateful for today, for the sun, the moon, the Earth – for yourself. Keep hiding from the virus. It is ambling around – looking for places to land. Don’t let it be you. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 229
November 5, 2020 Hello campers. Election Day +2. Welcome to vote counting for the mail-in crowd. Things are getting a bit tense here and there – a bit of anxiety in the air. But once again I will leave this behind, and try to find words more calming and kind. Today we’ll be meeting the species diplomat and that is a fine person indeed. These diplomats have emerged from the weird world of pipeline right-of-way condemnation proceedings which can be brutal against the landowner and the habitat under Texas law. However, if there is an endangered species using the habitat traversed by the pipeline, then the balance swings back a bit, and this is where the diplomat emerges. Someone has to work with the landowner to establish the existence of the species whether it be an ocelot or jaguarundi or the Black Lace Cactus which is today’s featured painting and poem. Lawyers like Jeff Mundy evaluate these issues and make proposals and counter proposals to U.S. Fish and Wildlife officials, to the landowners and to the companies with the goal of finding solutions to problems that could lead to significant harm to these species. Over the years a process has emerged whereby, in addition to possibly rerouting the pipeline to existing corridors or along the edges of property lines, a resolution may be found that results in payments being made to a third party to create or protect habitat for the endangered species jeopardized by the proposal or – in the case of plants – to allow the transplanting of plants from harms way to a safe place where they will be protected. In other words, these diplomats are – among other things - creating value for the ecological service of providing habitat for endangered species. This is a very important progression in the movement toward creating dollar value for nature – a very important transition in a society where money is often considered the only indication of value. At some other time, I will focus on this issue from a philosophical standpoint – on the role of Earth Church in establishing a wider ethical net – but not today. This establishment of value for nature is what I am working on today in almost every project be it payment for carbon storage, payment for flood storage or payment for providing species habitat. This is a very practical, very real and very important evolution. The species diplomat is a unique professional niche requiring interpersonal skills as well as scientific and field knowledge. My hat’s off to the diplomats that you will meet in today’s poem. And be safe out there. We are setting Covid case records almost daily right now. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 228
November 4, 2020 Hello campers. Day 228. Election Day has come and gone, but the election stays with us. I am not going to say anything more other than to remind you that Earth Church is available for you whether your candidates won or lost. And so is the virus vigil and connectuality, so perhaps now more than ever – stay connected. Instead of lingering, I am going to change the focus to getting on with living after the election. Over at the Baker Institute at Rice, we have just put out a press release about our carbon storage standard that we are developing with the help of about 100 volunteers that are part of a working group. This is a landowner-friendly, red-state friendly approach to climate change. That press release can be found at https://news.rice.edu/2020/11/02/baker-institute-led-group-develops-proposed-nationwide-protocol-for-storing-carbon. And along the lines of carbon storage, on our way back from Quintana on Sunday and birding by blue tooth, we drove by the Nash Prairie, a reserve owned by the Nature Conservancy. The place was looking just like Isabelle’s painting for today – the grass was brown, the seed heads beginning to fall apart and distribute their packages of life for the spring. This prairie is reputed to have never been plowed, and I look forward to seeing it in the spring as this is the type of ecosystem this Baker Institute standard is trying to restore while putting more carbon in the ground and money in landowners’ pockets. And later today, I am going to drive over to look at an Earth Church temple south of Highway 73, east of Winnie in Jefferson County – a place called Gum Island for the gum trees that spring up in the middle of the prairie, a place I am evaluating for carbon storage potential. I love it that our system of arranging and packaging the ecological service of soil carbon storage seems to have support – that it is beginning to happen. It is a good feeling to help conform the human economy with nature’s economy – to be a translator putting pieces together from different directions and perspectives – to help a partnership between humans and the earth take form, a subject I taught in class at Rice yesterday. So, I remind you to be safe out there. The election may be over but Covid is not. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 227
November 3, 2020 Day 227. Election day. Campers – hold on to your hats – this is going to be a long hard day – one that I have been waiting for some time to see come and go. I certainly care who wins, but I want this behind us. We are a nation in transition – an economy in transition – perhaps a morality in transition - and we are lost, floundering, like a fish out of water. Many want to be tossed back in the water, but we need to evolve the ability to breathe on land, like back when we emerged from the ocean, except I am talking economically rather than physically. If we solve the economic issues, I think the others are easier. But with folks continuing to lose good jobs and blue collar jobs becoming harder and harder to find, it is easy to blame others - to hate others. I look at the attitudes that are prevalent among us and I have to ask whether a country can be engaged in almost perpetual warfare since 9-11 and for it not to leave a lasting imprint of violence, of imposing one’s will on another, of behavior like we see today. And this is where my meditative space – Earth Church – comes in. After Sunday’s visit to Quintana, I am smoother today. I am reminded of an old Baptist hymn about coming to the garden alone, while the dew is still on the roses, except my garden exists everywhere there is nature, and the voices I hear are the blue jay and the crow and the mockingbird. And they are lovely voices – so vibrant, so alive, so comforting to me. So go to the garden and walk and talk with the voices of Earth church – now there is a poem – the voices of Earth Church. So breathe in the smell of the north wind and let the voices of Earth Church comfort you on what could be a tough day. Be safe from Covid. And by the way, I have to say thanks to Isabelle for another wonderful painting. So enjoy this conversation with a raccoon. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 226
November 2, 2020 Day 226 and I’m smiling because I visited some serious cathedrals of Earth Church on Sunday – Garland and I and John and Isabelle “birding by blue tooth” down to Quintana (near Freeport) where we visited the Quintana Neotropical Bird Sanctuary maintained by the Gulf Coast Bird Observatory. Oh what a neat place – a small area really – but a very important one. I am becoming impressed more and more by small, quality reserves amongst us. I know I am guilty of wanting to preserve huge chunks of real estate for the birds and bunnies, but sometimes the small pieces are really important. I will be relating a story in a week or two about an encounter at the relatively small prairie reserve on the Rice campus over near the Medical Center and the track stadium. And Jaime Gonzales with the Nature Conservancy in Houston has been working on small, high quality prairie reserves within the city for some time. This little gem at Quintana is really nice – a total treat. And then we returned to Houston up Texas 36, crossing the Brazos at Freeport, and then working our way north up the River, crossing it several times as we slowly moved toward the Southwest Freeway and back into Houston. It is amazing what wonderful ecological places – and what wonderful birds and wildlife – we have so close to our city. The ecological resources of Houston are jewels that we still do not know how to value. I can remember writing and talking about the necklace of ecological jewels that Houston wears when we were forming the non-profit called Houston Wilderness. And I also remember friends from Austin chuckling at the very thought that Houston had ecological jewels. Now – I must say that our jewels are not always pristine – the Quintana reserve is adjacent to a huge natural gas liquefaction facility. But that did not stop the swamp sparrow or the seaside sparrow or the Wilson’s warbler from enjoying the small reserve that offers a bit of shelter, some fresh water and some foodstuffs to the weary travelers that have just arrived. And the Quintana visit was topped off by a barred owl up close and personal. I am renewed – spiritually wired – and I needed it. Earth Church was there for me and I absorbed it, I breathed it, I lived it. It was all good. Be safe out there. Covid is really on a rampage. And only today remains until election day. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 225
November 1, 2020 Day 225. It’s getting tense here before the election. I’m writing this on Halloween day and just heard that a Biden/Harris bus got surrounded by Trump supporters, causing an event to be canceled. Not good. So I’m hurling myself back into magical realism propelled by the image that arrived in my inbox two days ago from our fabulous painter Isabella. I mean – that fox has a story to tell, and it has made it all the way to today’s poem. That fox is a lascivious character, a figure that can move in the shadows, a face that would fit in at any gaming table, a furry version of Clark Gable’s Rhett Butler in Gone With the Wind. So enjoy this little escape of a poem as we count days the days until this election is over. And Covid – don’t forget about Covid. It remains out there so be vigilant. And by all means, reach out to someone you care about and communicate – be connected – practice connectuality - safely separated and masked, with love. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 224
October 31, 220 Hello campers, it’s the day of Halloween as we creep toward election day. Whew. Today I am presenting a black hole for your Halloween enjoyment, a fun place to visit. I like the Black Hole of My Imagination, and would stay, but it’s hard to find a seat there. On the other hand, the Earth is the opposite of the black hole – our home, the place responsible for our existence, our being. Halloween is about death – about remembering the dead. And so is The Day of the Dead as practiced in Mexico and some other Spanish speaking countries. However, I strongly prefer the Mexican evolution of The Day of the Dead for it seems much more spiritual, much more about respect for the dead, much more holistic, more systemic, than does Halloween. To me, the Day of the Dead raises so many wonderful questions about the nature of death. One of my favorite photographers is George O. Jackson, and we have photo of his where a man is setting the table to invite the dead to join them for a meal – a man with a most serious demeaner. And another photo we have is by Geoff Winningham where a trail of marigold blooms invites the spirit into the home of a rural peasant in a foggy section of the coast in the State of Veracruz, a truly spiritual photograph to me. The celebration I envision would extend to all beings – that this day of respect for the dead – would extend to all beings who could be the current incarnation of a relative or friend who has passed. I am talking here about celebrating all beings – all life forms - those beings that each of you earlier in this vigil chose to come back as, for reincarnation has a spot in the Earth Church liturgy. When our celebration of the dead celebrates all living things is when I know I have found my place. Until that arrives, enjoy my tribute to life and Earth in this phantasmagoric poem that is also my tribute to Halloween. And I warned you I would write a poem about the black hole of my imagination. And be safe out there. Covid is worse than ever. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 223
October 30, 2020 Greetings campers. I am writing from under the pillows here at camp. There is a strangeness to the days that persists – it will not go away. A pall is over the country if not the world – the Covid pall, and we need to work hard to stay afloat – to stay up – to find a small bit of something that makes us smile, for smiling is very good for the psyche. Hopefully, Isabelle’s green anole has made at least a few of you smile this morning – a morning for connectuality – a morning for getting out from under the pillows and celebrating that we are alive and here and able to communicate. Take a moment and reach out to someone you have not talked to in a while. Connect. Or connect with nature, somehow. I’ll go out in our yard, which we made into a room of our house here in Houston. My friend Peter Rowe designed the garden on axis – he was big on symmetry of design, and Charles Tapley, my good friend and partner in teaching at Rice, helped us with plant selection and with designs that allowed the pine to grow through our fence and our live oak to succeed in spite of the fence which encloses our garden, making it seem much more like a room, and then later, a small water tank was a nice addition. Throughout, we have native plants that these days seem to bloom year-round. And as our garden matured, nature came with it – the monarchs laying their eggs, the green and yellow caterpillars stripping their leaves, the bumblebees and honey bees and hummingbirds flitting around and the green anole, our dragon of the garden. So read and enjoy a poem about the anole and look again on that fun painting by Isabelle and let yourself smile. And be safe and go vote if you haven’t already. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 222
October 29, 2020 Well, here we are once again. Day 222. Six days until this election is over. Want to take a bet on whether or not we know a result Tuesday night? Lots of early ballots ought to make counting faster in some respects. A victor declared by midnight? Okay – come on up. Place your bets. Or are you like me and simply want it to end with peace and finality. Today’s bird is a favorite – a “big duck” – one of the prized game birds of all time, the Mallard. The greenhead. A truly wonderful bird that quacks to communicate, as opposed to the widgeon and the pintail that whistle. As a kid hunting the swamps of central Louisiana, the mallard was THE prize duck, although I don’t remember being particularly successful. None of my relatives had a “tree blind” which is where you sat in relative comfort with decoys on the water and shot the decoying ducks. We hunted ducks by wading the shallow backwaters filled with various foodstuffs that my uncles called mast. One trip I remember vividly involved us walking as quietly as we could in knee-deep water, hearing the ducks quacking in the general vicinity, but always staying further out than we could see, with new arrivals slipping down through the tupelo gum and cypress, singing out as they came in, redirecting us, only to have the next group seem to land where we had been. It was public, hard-scrabble hunting – hunting that yielded results occasionally but adventures that stay with me today. And then there was the time that two of my uncles went out for an afternoon hunt and got lost and were not found until the next morning. Now that got everyone’s attention. I can remember the “war council”, the discussions about sending searchers out, about the vagaries of the Cocodrie swamp on a cold, wet winter night, my aunts all huddled together, whispering, deep frowns on their usually merry faces, and then a day or two later, the giggling about the idiots that forgot some basic swamp sense. I thought that was really funny as a kid and it makes me smile now as well. So, have a nice day and read about the mallard and be safe. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 221
October 28, 2020 Welcome back to Day 221 campers. It sure doesn’t look like camp will be ending anytime soon. Today our subject is Swainson’s Hawk, a really neat hawk that I see rarely. I remember the first Swainson’s I ever saw. Garland and I and another couple had flown into Denver and rented a car and were driving out of the airport and one of the most beautiful hawks I have ever seen flew right across the view out of the front windshield. Really nice neck collar as I recall. It was one of those moments I can still picture today. I am not sure why that particular moment stuck with me – I am not sure I remember much else from that trip all that clearly - but that was a brain-photo moment. And I like those moments – moments when I am sitting here in my outside office (it’s starting to get a bit chilly) and bringing up images that play like film on the back of my eyes. And for today’s poem, I am bringing back the bruja, the friendly witch from northern Mexico who assisted me and one of my clients down in the Brazoria County in our legal proceedings. My client used to call and consult the bruja about how we would do in court, and I enjoyed hearing my client’s reports about her conversations with the bruja. The bruja seemed to have a lot of faith in me which made me like her reports which were usually rather positive, and when the bruja sends you positive vibes, the day has to be good, don’t you think? At any rate, I have not really shared the story of the bruja’s assistance with the legal community, but now that I am retired as a litigator, I think it is safe to let that secret out. Perhaps a continuing legal education seminar. But it really makes me smile, thinking of some rather stuffy, full-of-themselves lawyers being undone by the bruja. Nice. At any rate, take care and be safe out there and enjoy my ride with Swainson and the bruja. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 220
October 27, 2020 Awoooooooo. Yip-yip-yip, awoooooo. Now repeat after me – awoooooooo, yip-yip-yip, awooooooooo. We are all channeling the coyote this morning, bringing it home to us. And I am bringing coyote love to you this morning - yep – coyote love, for the coyote needs it. There are so many nights I can retrieve from the recesses of my brain that have the song of the coyote as the primary memory, a mesmerizing sound that always touches deep in my psyche – primal, clear and even a little scary – not truly horrifying like the howl of the wolf must be – but edgy. I think it would be fun to run with a family of coyotes for a day or two, just to drop in and see what the experience would be like – standing on the hillside, plotting out the day, trotting down a ravine, chasing a rat or a rabbit, always busy, curious, always on the move, bringing food back to the den to be surrounded by a litter of ten pups, all craving food, all craving attention, and I will thankfully come back to reality when they get hungry again. Jack London wrote a book about wolves in Alaska called The Call of Wild that I read as a young teenager, a book that was in my grandmother’s collection housed in a built-in bookcase in her living room, a book that made a lasting impression. The closest that I have ever come to the call of the wild is the call of the coyote, which is what has inspired our artist to produce a wonderful piece that I will try match with a poem I’ve titled coyote love. And in this vigil’s continuing attempt to connect with you all, give yourself a bit of coyote love and be safe out there. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 219
October 26, 2020 Hola. Buenos dias. Bienvenue. And what a fine bunch of campers you are. Now – have any of you campers looked under the eaves of your cabins to see if there any Daddy Long Legs up there. Now – don’t be scared – they’re harmless, but quite interesting, almost ethereal, making me think of things somewhat supernatural. Isabelle wanted me to be sure and get this one out to you in advance of Halloween to perhaps get you in the mindset for what used to be an interesting evening but which could be a non-event this year, although there are certainly a lot of decorations out in our neighborhood. Now Isabelle wants the Daddy Long Legs out and amongst you because she thinks they are funny, and they are among the stranger beings that you might encounter – just hard to know just quite what they are. Daddy Long Legs is actually the official name, which is kinda funny. The science nerds got this one right. According to Fermilabs (but not Wikipedia), they are not really spiders, but simply members of the arachnid family. When you use the internet as your research arm, it might or might not be true, but it seemed like a good story to pass along. On this one, I am simply putting a tale together that may or may not hang. That’s what you get on Day 219. If anyone out there knows a bit more about the Daddy Long Legs, let me know. I’ll pass it on. On the other hand, the art is nicely done. And I must say, this one did make me smile, so it’s okay. Score one for Earth Church and its varied and sometimes rather unknown members. And of course Covid has not gone anywhere, so be safe out there, mask up and do what you know to do. Adios. Blackburn | ||
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DAY 218
October 25, 2020 Day 218. Thankfully only nine more days before the election, which is more than I can say for this Covid mess which is getting worse every day. It seems to be peaking right now just before the election. But no more politics for today. Instead, I’ll turn my attention to the red fox, a wily critter. I really have not seen very many red fox (the plural of fox is either fox or foxes) except for a trip to France that Garland and I made. A friend of hers from college had a place just across the border from Switzerland and invited us to come and stay with her in her home in the countryside. It was a lovely week spent in a foreign culture of fabulous food and lovely surroundings, but the vivid memory I have of that trip was the many red fox that were out and about in the countryside. Our hostess, Carol Ann, would raise her arms and in her most dramatic French accent and call out “Le Renard” (which is fox in French) as yet another one would dash across a field of grass, the red striking against the yellow green of the grass and the beautiful blue skies. A lovely memory from a different time. And of course there are all the various meanings/usages of the word fox and the word vixen, usages which I play with in today’s poem. It’s actually a very interesting species as its name has many usages, such as “You were outfoxed”. Fun stuff. Back in our college days and beyond, some of us ended up being called by animal names for some reason I can’t clearly remember. At various times, I have been called the otter, panda bear and dumb bear. Garland was sly fox. It was a fun time, but perhaps you had to have been there. At any rate, Covid is back with a vengeance. Be safe. Stay connected. Isabelle and I get as much from doing this as many of you seem to get from our doing it. It is a mutual connection that makes me feel better. So thank you for being there. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 217
October 24, 2020 Day 217 and Camp Hideaway is a bit nostalgic today – nostalgic for times when issues and paths were clearer and simpler. So today I’m going way back to my childhood. As I have mentioned, I was raised in South Texas outside of Harlingen where my father was a seed salesman and my mother eventually become a middle school English teacher. We lived in a company house about a football field away from the seed warehouse – an air conditioned space where I used to climb all over sacks of seeds. My mother never really became accustomed to South Texas, feeling a bit like a stranger in a strange land, and she would drag the family back to her home in central Louisiana every holiday with enough time for the long drive back to Louisiana. The trips to and from the little town of Glenmora were real journeys. To her, the road from central Louisiana back to South Texas was a journey back to a place devoid of real trees, a South Texas colonial outpost, an outpost that the rest of the family loved and enjoyed. On our trips to Louisiana during the colder vacations like Thanksgiving and Christmas, I would hunt with my uncles and just wander around the forested land across the road from grandma’s house which was located on the edge of town. Grandma and grandpa and the kin folks always seemed thrilled to see us, and there was always plenty of food and family. It was always an event to go to Glenmora. And with that, I will turn you over to the Brown Thrasher with words of wisdom and symbolism on the painting to augment our bird-poem for today and remind you to stay safe and connected. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 216
October 23, 2020 Well, good morning campers. Every time I start writing a virus vigil, I am reminded of Robin Williams in Good Morning, Vietnam, a man trying to bring humor and some music to a horrible setting – a place filled with the horror of war presided over a by military that was inhumane in so many different ways. And never doubt that we are currently living through such a hard time. Yesterday I listened to Jimmy Dale Gilmore singing his soul-touching ballad “Treat Me Like A Saturday Night”, and it was wonderful to hear him sing “I’m going out where the lights don’t shine so bright. When I get back you can treat me like a Saturday night”. What a wonderful image for our time. We all need to be treated like a Saturday night – an idea that ought to bring a smile. A good time. An old, pre-Covid Saturday night, with friends, with companionship, with hugs. In the meantime, I’m with Jimmy Dale in that I want to go where the lights don’t shine so bright, and for me, that is an early morning drive down to Matagorda Bay to fish with my friend Al Garrison and my fishing buddies on Team 11 – John and John and Jack – and feel that outboard taking us down the diversion channel of the Colorado River, the jumping off point for the trip out and across Matagorda Bay, pulling up into one of the myriad channels that go back almost to where you can touch the sand dunes – where you can hear and feel the surf – where you are surrounded by Earth Church in full ceremony. So come with me to Matagorda Bay and meet the Boat-Tailed Grackle, and then we’ll get back to being treated like a Saturday night. Fun. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 215
October 22, 2020 Hello campers. We are going to the urban zoo today to see the goats – those fabulous, hooved vegetation gleaners that are now being used for maintaining natural areas. What a concept. I actually drove over to the Arboretum and saw them in action. It was great. They were enclosed by a portable fence and eating the vegetation down that had grown over the summer. A while back I was making a speech at Texas Tech and the keynote address was given by Dr. Andy Russell who had created an organization called The Maintainers that praises those that hold the jobs needed to maintain society, leading him to question our blind allegiance to (and hero status granted to) innovators in our society. As Dr. Russell sees it, the maintainers are underappreciated and are essential to today’s society and we ought to give them more respect, a theme that we have seen again and again with the first responders and care givers and the response to Covid. Bayou City Initiative, a Houston non-profit focused upon flooding, under the leadership of Elizabeth White Olsen developed a series of videos celebrating the employees of the City of Houston’s Public Works Department, one of our key maintenance organizations here in town related to flooding. So, in that vein, today’s painting and poem pay homage to a natural maintainer – your basic goat – a devourer of most any type of vegetation. Seeing them at work at the Arboretum harvesting the growth around a pond really captured my imagination, resulting in the city planning proposal that I offer below. Enjoy the painting and poem and be safe and keep in touch with someone – anyone – just stay connected. Some emails I have been receiving recently describe a bit of depression from several of you so reach out and talk about it. These are not easy times. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 214
October 21, 2020 Hello again campers. Day 214 and counting to the election being over. 13 more days. The end cannot come quick enough from my perspective. I took my sister to vote yesterday and am feeling great about Garland and my sister and me all getting our voting done early. If you have not already voted, consider doing it early. Early voting in Harris County is quite easy with many locations. We all voted at Rice Stadium which was an outside voting place and all functions were well-separated. It was less of an exposure issue than going to the grocery store for sure. Don’t let Covid worries keep you from voting. Please. Harris County even has drive-in voting where I am told they bring the ballot box to your car. There was a funny piece in the Chronicle by Lisa Gray about the fun people were having about what else should come with the drive-in ballot box – things such as fries, etc. You get the drift, but it made me smile, and smiling is worth something these days. And this little opossum painting might make you smile as well. What a looker. My, my. Now at Earth Church, we try not to be too carried away with exterior beauty, and some of our birds are just knock-your-eyes-out beautiful. Well – not so this little critter, but we love it anyway. So today, enjoy a tribute to the ole possum fueled by a note from friend Pat Grier about opossum experiences. And a word about connectuality. We are entering what appears to be a major recurrence of Covid. We are likely to feel the need to be a bit more confined for a while. Keep in touch with someone. Call someone who may be alone. Reach out if you need assistance. And you can always write to Camp Hideaway HQ. We do consider requests although we have run through many subjects and try not to repeat birds or mammals or images, but no such promise on rhyming couplets. Take care and be safe. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 213
October 20, 2020 Good morning campers. This morning I want you to go outside and look up in the sky and see if there is a cloud to focus upon – and watch it move in that smooth, cool way that they do – defining ethereal. I have always enjoyed clouds as does Garland who loves to point out unique forms in the sky to me as we are out and about, to find familiar images in their shape. And recently, I was watching the approach of Hurricane Delta on radar and decided to go out and see if I could detect its movement, and sure enough, I watched the movement of the high clouds coming in from the northeast, a sure sign of circulation out in the Gulf, and it was really neat to watch them coming in, a silent invasion from the Gulf. And that brings me to my second topic for today – silence and noise. For you see, clouds are the opposite of noisy – noise that seems the bane of my existence these days – noise running rampant on the television, hateful words being thrown against an opponent, paid diatribes that hurt my head. And then there is the noise from the President who yesterday called Dr. Fauci an idiot while proclaiming that Covid is over. At some point, we have to say just be quiet, please. We have heard enough noise. Give us some peace and quiet. So today, I give you Isabelle’s and my view of the cloud, a quiet member of the Church of the Earth except when he/she decides to speak, and then pay attention, for cloud talk is serious. And remember - Covid is real and it will nail you if you are not careful. Wear a mask. Don’t mingle in crowds. Be safe. And reach out to someone and connect. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 212
October 19, 2020 Greetings from Camp Hideaway HQ’s public address system that is trying to connect with you – to reach out across this Covid void and say hi. Give yourself a hug from the camp this morning. And send a note back if you wish. Notes are not broadcast except perhaps to steal good ideas. Today’s public address concerns bats, the little flying mammals that seem to generate an irrational fear. They are fierce looking, but they generally stay away from humans, only coming out at night which perhaps makes many people fear them. They are hard to see. They fly erratically. They have a form of radar. They are about as opposite from us in behavior as a species can be, and we don’t trust something that is difficult for us to understand, something really different from us. So – open your hearts to a face that only a mother or a father could love. Isabelle has chosen not to show us the fearsome side of the bat, but made it rather undaunting. And keep an eye out as we approach the end of October – I would like a report of how many of you see bats tied in with the ghosts and goblins of Halloween, or linked to vampires and spooky places. It is true that they roost in abandoned spaces like the belfry of an abandoned church, leading to the saying bats in the belfry, but what does it really mean? Inquiring minds want to know if you know – and don’t check it out on Google first. I use that line in the poem and I have to admit I did not totally understand the context before checking it out, which is the way it goes with many sayings that we use without understanding their derivation. So enjoy this tribute to bats and stay safe out there. Covid bad. Bats good. And consider making a donation to Bat Conservation International. https://www.batcon.org/. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 211
October 18, 2020 Hello again. I am writing today from Wimberley and it is really nice up here in the Hill Country –cool, lovely weather, but dry. We either seem to have many inches of rain or no rain – not much in between. Today I am writing about turning frustration into something positive. I am reminded of a song by David Byrne and the Talking Heads who I’ve always enjoyed. He wrote a song called “Crosseyed and Painless” which has the opening line of “Lost my shape, trying to act casual.” I have no clue exactly what David Byrne meant with those lyrics, but they resonated with me and I interpreted those words in my own way. Today’s poem is about me losing – and regaining – my shape, albeit likely very different from the way Byrne intended the words. That is what I like about trying to capture a concept – different readers can retrieve different meanings from the same words, and while clarity is often desirable, in some cases it works against conveyance of a concept, an idea. Much of my writing and poetry is very literal, but as this vigil has moved into Day 211, I find I am becoming more interested in imagery rather than clarity. And certainly when one ventures into metaphysical realms, clarity is elusive, which is of course why it is so much fun to delve into these mysterious zones, these black holes of the imagination. Now that is a topic for a poem in the future – the black hole of my imagination. That could be a fun journey. Be safe out there. Covid is on the rebound, playing hardball. Take care. And I almost forgot – a new subscriber wanted the web site address to find the other 210 virus vigils. It’s https://www.jimblackburninfo.com/virus-vigil.html. Blackburn | ||
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DAY 210
October 17, 2020 Day 210 and I’m enjoying the Texas Hill Country. The landscape is still green but it is dry with no rain in sight. I am concerned about the springs, the river flow and ultimately inflows to the bays and estuaries. We seem to go from worrying about massive rains, hurricanes and flooding to drought with not much in between. Not good. Today’s bird is the red cockaded woodpecker, an endangered species that goes back to my early days as an environmental planner. When I graduated from law school a long time ago, I went straight to Rice to graduate school in environmental science and engineering. There I took an urban design planning studio that was being co-taught by Jim Veltman, the lead environmental planner for the Woodlands, a new town being developed by Houston oil man George Mitchell, a really interesting man. I was hired to a year’s contract (I forgot to include vacation time I was so excited to be hired) to come up and work with him and Ian McHarg’s excellent group of planners from Philadelphia that were doing the environmental plan for a new town north of Houston called The Woodlands. When I started working on The Woodlands, they were building the first townhome development and the first office building. Today the population of The Woodlands is over 100,000 people. My dog Bree and I walked across many acres of lovely forest, assessing the natural landscape, trying to understand how to develop with the least possible impact. We were trying to develop with natural drainage with the least possible impact. It rained over 70 inches that first year and was a mess. I vividly remember the heated discussion around developing the first BAD – big ass ditch. What emerged at The Woodlands was a hybrid between the ideal and the practical, a great starting point for a career working on these tricky issues of balancing economics and ecology. Today’s bird – the red cockaded woodpecker - was found immediately adjacent to The Woodlands in Jones State Forest, a place where it can still be seen. So enjoy this wonderful little woodpecker from my past and be safe out there. Covid is on the rebound. It lurks. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 209
October 16, 2020 Hello all. Well, I start by admitting an error. Today is Day 209, not yesterday, which was of course Day 208. And I agree with a reader who pointed out that this vigil is no longer just bird art. However, we are sticking with our name as a bird art and poetry virus vigil although Earth Church art and poetry virus vigil has a nice ring to it. Getting past our Covid times is becoming more and more necessary, but this is a very stubborn disease that is unlike anything I have encountered in my lifetime. In fact, there is a coincidence of unique things these days, and you know you are in weird times when you find more than one thing occurring that you have never encountered in your lifetime. I can name three such weird events right now – Covid, President Trump and climate change impacts and responses. There have never been three things like these three in my lifetime, and such events are an invitation to go metaphysical in the here and now – to search for some higher truth, higher authority, something that helps explain the mysteries of life that are insoluble in this day and time. I like Earth Church for that reason and have for years. I can find in the Earth a power larger than myself – the Earth that is the place of my birth, the place where I emerged as a living being. I can’t explain it, but it is and I am. The Earth is a sanctuary – my home, a place that welcomed me and my life energy. Earth Church is where I found meaning decades ago when I was really down. It is where I go for support these days, and I can find it outside my door but I need a really strong dose from the marshes or the bays or Wimberley every so often. And that is where I am off to today – to Wimberley in pursuit of the metaphysical – which I explore a bit in today’s poem. So enjoy today’s fawn and be safe out there. Covid is still around. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 208
October 15, 2020 Okay, campers. Let’s start off the day with a smile. Okay – now smile. I know that Isabelle’s image of the armadillo should have made you at least chuckle a bit, and if not, look at it again and start over. Now do you smile? It’s not that hard. Get those mouth muscles moving in the right direction. Get the day started in the right direction. Look at the way the leg is raised on this fella. What’s he getting ready to do? Knock on your door? How about an armadillo knocking on your door asking for a grub or two? Smiling yet? Well – maybe I need a different subject, but outside of what I can conjure up in this head of mine and Isabelle’s art work, it is sometimes hard to find things to smile about, but one can be grateful without necessarily smiling. All of us who have not contracted Covid have reason to be grateful. All of us with jobs and/or income-making ability have a reason to be grateful. And if you are able to walk in your neighborhood, go do it and try being grateful for it. Look at what plants and trees are blooming these days. Hear the blue jays scream at who-knows-what. Go walk on the beach. Do something and then be grateful you could do it because as bad as things may seem, they are not really all that bad. We are inconvenienced. We are lonely. We are disconnected. And we should all try to address connectuality however we can. But don’t let this get you down. Being down is the enemy of smiling. Being down is the enemy of grateful. So by order of the Camp PA system, smile and be grateful. Now – ya’ll got it? And be safe. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 207
October 14, 2020 Hello campers. Welcome to day 207, the day after the first day of early voting here in Texas. I drove around the polling site at Rice University early yesterday morning on my way to get Covid tested and there was a nice line waiting to vote at Rice stadium. This seems a good way to do it. Go early and vote in person. There are places all over Harris County and I am sure in other parts of the state and the U.S. as well. But regardless, vote. This may be the most important election I can remember – perhaps in my lifetime. Today’s poem and painting are about small spaces – spaces for thinking – spaces that are private – spaces where we can find peace and repair ourselves. We all need safe places. We all need peace in our lives. I have heard from several of you that are having a hard time right now. For me, finding a place to clear my mind and breathe deeply into my inner self, my soul – that’s what helps me – that and attending the services of Earth Church. So today I am opening up my secret room to you in the hope that it might help you find your own. And be safe out there. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 206
October 13, 2020 Good morning. Are we good today? Ready for another day of masks and socially appropriate sequestration? Well, don’t tire of those good practices for they are the best hope we have of being Covid-free until the Covid cavalry arrive in the form of a vaccine or some silver bullet, or at least we can hope that such relief is on the way. I just heard Dr. Fauci say that even with the development of a vaccine, we are likely to be living protectively until the second or third quarter of 2021. So – we must stay vigilant which is at least one of the reasons for this virus vigil, with the other and perhaps more important reason being to stay connected. And speaking of connected, I am intrigued that many of you receiving this virus vigil and responding to it by corresponding back to us are people that Isabelle and I have never met in person. Isn’t it interesting that we share the world with so many good people that we do not know. It is really neat to have the affirmation delivered that there are really good people out there. I mean – I know that there are – but it is a bit different to actually connect with those nice people and just smile over these crazy times that have led Isabelle and me to reach out, and what a gift it has been back at us. Now speaking of some real talent out there – one of you really bright readers suggested that the Nobel Prize for literature was rigged and it should have been awarded to the virus vigil and asked if I was going to protest. And it did make me smile for I know the person who made this suggestion, and they were chuckling to themselves and enjoying having a bit of fun with me. At any rate, enjoy this poem about a nocturnal Texas species that is rather common that few of us have ever directly encountered – a species that we are connected with spatially, but kind of on a time-sharing basis, and it gets the night. Take care and be safe. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 205
October 12, 2020 Hello again. Day 205. Camp Hideaway is going up the creek – as far up as a motor boat can go on Chiltipin Creek that runs into Copano Bay near Bayside and starts not far outside of Sinton, a town my family used to drive through on our trips from Harlingen to Glenmora, Louisiana, most every major holiday when I was a kid. Today, a steel mill is being constructed outside of Sinton and proposes to discharge its wastewater into this beautiful little water body called Chiltipin Creek, a creek that is a nursery off of the bay, a bona fide chapel of Earth Church. The Aransas Project (TAP) – the group that sued the state over of the water policies that killed 24 whooping cranes in 2008 – is taking up the fight against this wastewater discharge. I was the attorney for TAP during the whooping crane case and am now its President. We are opposing this permit and have asked Bryan French, a relatively new (but not so young) environmental lawyer from Galveston to help us out on this fight. I asked him to take a boat trip up the creek from Copano Bay which he did with the help of fishing guide Brian Holden, the owner of the Redfish Lodge which was destroyed by Hurricane Harvey. Bryan French wrote up a report of his survey trip which I have attached. It makes for good reading and also is a wonderful argument for joining with TAP and opposing this project. You can send a donation to TAP to help on this fight if you wish c/o Jim Blackburn, 2116 Albans Rd., Houston, TX 77005. We ought to be able to protect the high quality waters of the state. Earth Church stands for it. We just need people (and perhaps one of these days, the state of Texas) to join with us in saying no to ruining a fabulous estuary. I will be in touch with more information on saying no to this wastewater as the case develops. In the meantime, enjoy today’s poem about the beautiful green kingfisher of Chiltipin Creek and also, if you are interested, take the time to read Bryan’s report. And of course, be safe out there. The virus remains among us. Blackburn. | ||||
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DAY 204
October 11, 2020 Good morning campers. Your attention please. Calling all members. Calling all members. This is your Camp Hideaway public announcer reminding you as you start this day to enjoy it, to breathe it in, to find a bit of spiritual lift, to literally suck a little spirit in, spirit such as that conveyed by the art work above. Our artist was concerned about the situation regarding the mail and mail-in ballots and sent me today’s painting a while back - a fine image of the birds coming to our rescue – coming to save us from the political quagmire within which we are sinking and from which we are trying to pull ourselves. So, maybe the birds can send us a lifeline and shake us out of this funk. I always consider the birds to be my spiritual partners, and they are doing their part today by helping to deliver the mail. So here is the spiritual thought for the day – when you see a bird in the sky or in a tree, think of it as a connected soul that is trying to do their part for the survival of the Earth and for our survival as well. We are all connected. They have their roles. We have ours. There is balance. There is synchrony. We are all connected – all of us - all living things connected with the same air, the same planet, yet we do not appreciate those connections because we humans divorced ourselves from nature centuries ago, at first mentally and then physically, a situation worsened today with electronic entertainment. We need to understand these connections and integrate them into our lives and our philosophies about living, including our economy. I see this linkage as a clear requirement for the future. And it is and will be so rewarding, so peaceful, so nice. Spirit and peace, connectuality and peace. And peace, you will find, is good. And of course, be safe. That nasty virus is still with us. Blackburn | ||
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DAY 203
October 10, 2020 Hello all. Happy Saturday, not that it is all that much different than Friday, but happy Saturday anyway. Well – I caught a bit of flack for my characterization of our current condition as a “spiritual wasteland” but I stand by my characterization. We are wasted, or perhaps that was another era. At any rate, today’s painting and poem should bring a bit of spirituality to the most hardened soul, for who can turn away the spiritual boost from the lightning bug, that little sprite that lights up the early night. I last encountered lightning bugs this summer in Wimberley on my deck by the water. Seeing them brought back memories of my youth from Louisiana and Garland was talking about them as well. I bet most of us have fireflies in our background but don’t see them so much anymore. Some fun facts – fireflies make their light with chemistry and it has been determined to be almost 100% efficient in turning the energy of the chemical reaction into light. Now that is a goal for all of our energy efficiency experts to match. And then there is the purpose of the light, which is to attract a mate. So – I have an idea for all of you readers out there – well, maybe you shouldn’t do that. At any rate, different species of fireflies around the world blink their lights at different rates to communicate, with the males doing the flashing and the females responding, oftentimes with a single flash. However, one needs to be cautious as a would-be mate because another specie of fireflies may indicate that they are receptive, luring in the male only to discover that the signal is from a female of another species that eats him for dinner. Now, that is high stakes out there in the mating game. So, the next time you think your evening did not go so well, think of the poor male firefly that got a deceptive message. And on that note, be safe and enjoy the poem. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 202
October 9, 2020 Day 202. Life continues to be lived in spite of Covid, in spite of the election, in spite of this spiritual wasteland where we find ourselves on the 9th day of October, 2020. I think we are all starved for something spiritual – something that will touch us at the base of our soul, something that opens us up in ways we have been awaiting for some time. For me, the spiritual is right outside the door, in my porch office, in the walk down the street, in a trip to Rice or the park, in almost any encounter with trees and plants and birds and bunnies. It is such fun to allow access to my inner self that I have tried for decades to protect by isolating it from those we don’t trust when opening up seems to me to be the answer. So my simple thought for today is to open up your spirit – let nature in, let others in. Today Isabelle has painted and I am writing about spaceship Earth – about the need to protect it, to act in defense of it. And along these lines, if we consumers could ever get our spending aligned with our values, we could help create major change that would have major spiritual results. I have always been amazed that advertising is evaluated on the basis of the number of people reached rather than the number of buyers actually converted. If we could focus buyers on certain products, certain goals, business would follow. They have an amazing ability to change to follow the money. So those of you with investment portfolios, think about that. Check out sustainable funds. Their returns are actually looking good this year. Check out Blackrock’s new portfolio that was announced back in January which represented one of the most important positive steps of the year - a step foretold years ago when someone advised me that my interest in establishing a carbon dioxide removal and storage market would take off when Blackrock moved – and they have now moved. We all can spend our money on positive things like green electricity. On locally grown food. On LED lights and many other things. Those who can should check out an electric car. We can do this. We are all great at consuming. Let’s just consume wisely. I will have more on these ideas and others as we continue our voyage on this spaceship Earth that we have to keep functional for we are all passengers on this trip and we need to keep our spacecraft healthy. But for now, be safe and think about the signals we send with our spending patterns. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 201
October 8, 2020 Hello all. Day 201. We are turning another the page in the virus vigil book. One more day to mark on the wall – another step toward the end of the election madness and nasty ads, another step toward the end of this year of our separateness. But stop and think – what if 2020 became the year of our spiritual awakening for the spirit is needed most when the oppression is the greatest, and 2020 has a large dose of nasty oppressive forces. What a wonderful irony if 2020 became the year of the spiritual breakthrough for the American people, the point in time when they walked through the looking glass and found Earth Church on the other side. I think we are likely to see evidence of the breakthrough as we get further into winter, when people start missing the access to nature that they have had during the March to October relatively good weather span. And of course, speaking of directing your spiritual focus, let’s hope that Hurricane Delta stays the weakened storm that emerged across the Yucatan Peninsula. And let’s collectively send all the good vibes we can to our neighbors in Louisiana who appear to be in line for yet another hard blow. Today I looked at the sky when I was walking and saw the first clouds moving in from the Gulf – high wispy clouds that I later spotted on a satellite image of the storm that I got from the National Weather Service. There is certainly something mystical about these big storms – storms that control the atmosphere over the Gulf of Mexico, taking over the rotation, making the water level rise from Texas to Florida, moving storm surge before it and with it, bringing “frog strangling (from a few days ago)” rains. But keep the emergence of spirituality in mind. I have a feeling. Isabelle and I will work on that topic as we approach month 7 of this virus vigil that started so innocently many months back. Be safe. And try to stay connected and sane. And by the way, in the poem, I channel a soccer play-by-play announcer’s famous refrain when the local team does well Blackburn | ||
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DAY 200
October 7, 2020 Hello all. It’s day 200 of the virus vigil, and we are celebrating with a wonderful image by Isabelle, an image that covers many of the topics that we have been discussing over the last 200 days here at Camp Hideaway. First, I want to draw your attention to the hands that are reaching out and connecting – our collective hands reaching out to each other across the Covid chasm, the space that lies between us these days, the space that this virus vigil set out to span and has continued to try to span for all these days. Happy 200th day of connectuality. But this image has much more. It is about the moon, the mysterious orb that influences so much here on Earth, the satellite that is itself a temple of Earth Church. There is the ibis flying across the face of the moon – reminding us of the birds that are the mainstay of this virus vigil. And then there are the trees that can communicate with each other - trees where there remains quite a bit more to explore in these ramblings. And then there are the seeds that have been such a great source of Earth-based inspiration, the packages designed to transport current inhabitants of the Earth into the future. There is the corn standing tall and the wheat in the field that feed us. There is the electric full moon that grabs us at the base of our souls. There is the woman embracing the moon, accepting it, internalizing it. And then there is the dark new moon that stares down upon us, promising a new beginning – a new beginning that cannot come soon enough. And this painting – when taken as a whole – is a representation of the many facets of Earth Church and our Covid journey, with the moon being a point of mediation where we explore the mystery of where and how we came to be, an image before which we take deep breaths and seek a deeper understanding of life and living, an image to inspire reflective thought, a painting of joy. So enjoy Day 200 and this wonderful image and of course, wear your masks, be socially distant and stay connected and safe. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 199
October 6, 2020 Good morning campers. The wake-up gong has sounded and Camp Hideaway is up and about on Day 199. I need to come up with something special for Day 200. Fireworks in the evening? I can remember thinking that Isabelle and I were going to be out of poems and paintings not long after Day 100, and here we are many moon phases later. Today’s topic is once again an endangered species – the jaguarundi, a wild cat that is larger than a big house cat but with strange ears, close set eyes and an extremely long tail – a cat considered by many authorities to be extinct in Texas - but Jeff Mundy, my friend who has represented many ranchers in trying to keep the impact of pipelines within reason on their ranches, just sent me a photo of what is believed to be a jaguarundi taken in DeWitt County which is northwest of Victoria. Today’s Camp Hideaway poem about my experience with the jaguarundi has a moral – to be bold and take a stand for things that you believe to be right, and take a stand to protect the church that is the Earth, and the results might surprise you. I often think we overstate the importance of winning and do not emphasize enough the importance of simply trying your best. In almost every battle I have been in that involves protecting the environment, we were told we had a relatively slim chance of winning. And we lost a few. Yet, we “won” the majority of these fights in one way or another but those battles would never have been won if we had been afraid of losing – if we hadn’t showed up in the face of great odds against us and simply did our best. So the moral today - show up and do your best. Be creative. Be agile. Use guerilla warfare tactics. Some of us don’t fight because we don’t want to lose. There is no shame in fighting for an important cause and losing. In Earth Church, we celebrate such effort because when the Earth loses, we all lose, even if someone “wins”. Don’t get me wrong – I like to win as much as anyone. I was raised to always try to win. But I think if we only define success only by wins, we will not achieve the impossible and solve some of the most important challenges of today - challenges such as slowing climate change. And while considering these impossible battles, don’t forget to be safe out there. The fight to avoid Covid is one battle we all want to win. Blackburn | ||
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DAY 198
October 5, 2020 Hello campers. Well – fall has arrived and it feels really nice. Cool mornings. Nice evenings. And for now, clear weather and blue skies. Makes the Texas Coast a lovely place to live. Today I want to talk a bit about control – or the absence of it. We humans like order. It seems like our mission is to whip chaos into neat little lines. We live in cities with streets and blocks and lots. We have zones of land use in most cities, although not in Houston which seems a little more at home with a bit of chaos. We built forts on the frontiers to protect us from choas. We built delivery systems for water to bring dependability. We put straight lines into the curves of nature for flood control (what a great term). In many ways, nature is the opposite of order. Our human predecessors millennia ago fought against the chaos of nature, the unpredictability – the floods, the wild animals, the fires. And it seems that we are still fighting those fights. On the other hand, nature has order in its cycles and systems, an order that we have failed so far to fully understand – an order with which we are not yet in sinc and with which we must come into sinc. That is a lot of what I do professionally these days, devising concepts to align where we are today with where we need to be to be in order to come into sinc with nature’s order. So today consider the turning of the season and control. And perhaps the example of fall and control is not as apt as it used to be with climate change, but I remember never wanting summer to end, although I must say I am looking forward to fall and the bird migration and a bit cooler weather. But to continue the thought of loss of control, how about Covid? Covid seems to be the ultimate in the loss of control, a fact that all of us are having great difficulty understanding and accepting. We are not in control here. We must adapt to it– with masks, with social distance, with intelligent change. We are not in control of it. I think that the issue of control is perhaps the single biggest obstacle that President Trump has and has had in dealing with Covid. Be safe and stay connected. And by the way, you get two Isabelle images today from a series of six fall paintings. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 197
October 4, 2020 Hello again Campers. We are again going back into the past for today’s camp activities. We’re going to look for horny toads, a.k.a. the Texas Horned Lizard. As a kid growing up, they seemed to be everywhere there was a bed of the big red ants – ants that were fierce looking but really never bothered us. And in writing this poem about being a kid in South Texas, the image of goathead stickers (or more correctly thorns) came up unbidden with the memories of the horny toad. Have any of you out there ever encountered a goathead sticker? I have inserted an image at the bottom. They are really fierce, and they were sometimes on the ballfields we practiced on. Dirt and gravel and goatheads on the infield of our practice baseball field make for some nasty bounces and some hard, painful slides. But there were always horny toads around the edges where the recreation area at Stuart Place Elementary met the cotton fields – a nice rural elementary school between Harlingen and La Feria. The last time I saw a horny toad was on a trip to Big Bend Ranch where we hiked out of El Solitario, the collapsed magma dome that is the central feature of the state park. All campers should go to Big Bend State Park. It is beautiful and a great place for socially-distanced hiking. Check it out. And keep safe out there. Covid is real. It is not fake news. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 196
October 3, 2020 Hello Campers. Just when I though it could not get any crazier, the President and First Lady come down with the virus. I feel like I am participating in a stage play and don’t know my lines. These scenes keep coming at me that are beyond my experience. We are all tired. We are grumpy. We are all off of our game a bit, but Isabelle and I are marching onward like good little soldiers, reaching out across time and space to connect with you all. So – tag, you’re connected. Today is the third in the pod series, with this pod being from the magnolia tree. In writing this poem, I reflected on three excellent writers of modern song/poetry – Gram Parsons, Kris Kristofferson and James McMurtry. They all write/wrote from the heart of experiences that they’ve had. Parsons’ Hickory Wind is simply beautiful to me, a song of South Carolina and tall pines, a song first released by the Byrds on Sweetheart of the Rodeo but also done masterfully by Gillian Welch. Kris wrote in Sunday Morning Coming Down about loss and, I think, hope, a song that gives me chills every time I hear it. And James McMurtry’s rendition of Memorial Day just reminds me of my family and the many trips that we used to take. So enjoy the magnolia pod – today’s offering from Isabelle and me. And be safe out there. Covid can strike the lowest of us and the highest. Wear a mask. Be smart. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 195
October 2, 2020 Good morning campers. We are in idiom camp and are we ever having fun. I appreciate everyone’s effort here. The poem below is assembled from those that I could work into a poem about this pink work from the brain of the artist. There were many others that were great and I couldn’t make them fit in a poem. And I want to give Garland credit. She is great at coming up with creative, fun things, and this was a good one, so thanks G. There were several entries that I couldn’t make work in the poem. And some of the meanings are fun, like “in the weeds” being where the whiskey was left during prohibition. Here is a list of some that did not make the poem – “the early bird always gets the worm”, “horsepower”, “forlorn hope”, “skeletons in the closet”, “sky high”, “green as grass”, “a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush”, “bite the bullet”, “as the crow flies”, “up a creek without a paddle”, “to tell the truth”, “hotter than a bucket of red ants”, “two birds with one stone”, “put your money where your mouth is”, “henpecked”, “rule the roost”, “smart cookie”, “aging gracefully”, “don’t sweat the small stuff” and “eats like a bird”. So thank you campers for a game well played. And now for the poem that goes with that mystical painting prepared by the hare artist Isabelle. And be careful out there. We are getting tired of Covid and sloppy. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 194
October 1, 2020 Hello campers. How about that debate? On one hand, it was perhaps a clear glimpse of who and what we have become - Americana circa 2020. On the other hand, our founding mothers and fathers are collectively shuddering. In my opinion, the way the debate was conducted was the perhaps the most disrespectful act to the American public that I have ever observed from a political leader – a malicious, uncaring action - the act of a delinquent rather than the leader of a country that I truly care for. Yet, I was not surprised. It was what I have come to expect, which is another sad statement. But, so much for things that I can only change with my vote. Let’s talk about phrases and sayings. Good work campers. You all were working overtime. Shaking the trees for jewels. Some of you even surprised yourselves, writing back with a second response saying “oh, and one more”. Now – I’m going to try and make a poem out of those phrases – a poem that will fit with the painting I have chosen which – when you see it - you will all agree is a challenge for a poet to even get in the ball park of where the artist’s head was when she painted it. And as for Covid, just keep on, keepin’ on, because it is entrenched. The artist and I will keep churning and painting and typing. You keep safe. And stay connected. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 193
September 30, 2020 Hello campers. Day 193 and here we are at Camp Hideaway in Covid protective gear and practicing social distancing. It is like a weird dance the whole country is participating in – a funny kind of square dance with distance enforced on the dosey-does. I am sitting in my Covid office enjoying yesterday afternoon and watching the bees buzz and the leaves sway with the afternoon’s cool breeze, glad that today the poem is about a real bird, the sharp-shinned hawk that I generally have trouble distinguishing from the larger Cooper’s, except with the bird in the poem today which I feel confidant was a sharpie. Garland was talking to me today about the origin of various sayings, thinking that I might put a poem together about interesting sayings that are used by all of us but that likely have lost a connection to their original meaning. Calling someone hawkeye of course indicates good eyesight but more generally means one with acute senses, sharp, hard to sneak something past. Daniel Day Lewis played Hawkeye in The Last of the Mohicans. Jeremy Renner played Hawkeye in the Avengers. Both good characters. But that usage makes sense. I am thinking about a bit more detached from meaning. Phrases like “break a leg” and “cat got your tongue” and “bite the bullet” come to mind. So campers, it’s game time. If you have or can conjure up a favorite phrase with a somewhat obscure or detached origin, send it in to me, and I will try to make a poem, much like I did with the various ideas about reincarnation. It would be helpful if there was some reference to nature given the general direction that this vigil attempts to head, although all submissions are welcome. And finally, I want to mention again that I will be offering a short course that will have a lot about the future of oil and gas and plastics including climate change and the carbon and circular economies, offered through Rice Continuing Studies starting October 6. There is a charge. This course might be useful for someone who was or is in the oil and gas business who may have been laid off or is considering changing jobs. The content of this course will discuss some of the issues that I believe will comprise the emerging foundation of the business world of the 21st Century. The web address for the short course is https://glasscockcatalog.rice.edu/search/publicCourseSearchDetails.do?method=load&courseId=21312064. I think it will be a good experience. Until tomorrow, be safe out there in the Covid wilderness. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 192
September 29, 2020 Well hello campers. Day 192 and Covid marches on. The first cold front of the season has arrived, and it does feel good. Cooler means that we will be getting outside more where it is safer to be with others. Cooler means that the geese that I so enjoy will be coming on down later in October. Cooler means that conditions at Camp Hideaway can actually be comfortable out in nature as we enjoy Earth Church. Today we have the second painting and poem about the Soul Bird of My Imagination, a lovely, big red bird that likes watermelon and joyously sprang from the creative mind of our artist Isabelle. Today’s bird is not singing but is more contemplative, as will I be. I must admit to being fortunate. Every day or two I get one or several paintings that come flying in over the email waves and land on my laptop. What fun. It’s like Christmas opening these gifts and finding what might be - on some days - a bit of a strange assortment of images, of ideas, of concepts shared with me, and hopefully with you, by our artist. And every so often, the paintings provoke a good poem, or a concept worth the effort to pull into a poem. I probably am spending too much time on this vigil but maintaining Camp Hideaway has become a part of my life as well as yours. And most importantly, it brings great joy to me to be able to bring words to dance with Isabelle’s paintings and then to hear that one or both has reached you on that day or another and connected. Connectuality between and amongst us all, connectuality with nature, connectuality within the Church of the Earth. It just feels right today and it is. Be safe out there. Covid lurks. Blackurn. | ||
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DAY 191
September 28, 2020 Hello all. Day 191. We are now into the seventh month of this vigil, and Isabelle and I are feeling renewed strength. I have material for a few days, and she just keeps pumping interesting images to me for poetic response. And I will give you a bit of sneak preview – she has one about sleep that you will be very proud of me when (or perhaps if) I manage to make a poem to go with it. Back to today. Isabelle sent this weeping willow to me yesterday and put a note with it that the willow was rooting around in the Earth trying to get the energy for change. I wrote and asked what the silver squares in the roots were and she responded that they were nourishment for a nice, kind life. So I write today about a smart old willow tree that lives on Buffalo Bayou and has watched a lot of water pass beneath it, and I really enjoyed every minute of writing this one. My weeping willow has a life span of over 100 years when in life it is less than 50 years, but . . . poetic license. By the way, for those of you not from Houston, I mention two events/places in the poem that you might not be familiar with. There was a race-related horrible incident at Camp Logan during World War 1 and Addicks and Barker are two flood control reservoirs that all of us here in Houston know. Speaking more generally, today’s poem is intended as a positive one. I have made a choice to try to be positive in my life. I know that I (and we) can dwell on the negatives, the politics, Covid, etcetera ad nauseum. But I have choice, and I choose to be positive. I am, therefore I am. The Earth is, therefore I am. My affirmations for life and living. And I believe that a good bit of what I think should happen with regard to addressing past environmental problems will happen in one manner or another, although not perfectly. If you would like to hear me discuss this affirmative view of where we are heading, you are invited to a free webinar put on by the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration. I am told that people will be admitted until the capacity is reached – no reservation necessary. The web address is https://noaabroadcast.adobeconnect.com/noaa-interview/ . The title of my presentation is “Climate, Flooding and Money”, and I will discuss Houston and our rainfall and surge flooding issues as well as carbon sequestration concepts that we are developing at Rice. The presentation is today, September 28, and will last about an hour including discussion and will begin at 1 p.m. central time. And in the meantime, enjoy the shade of the willow on Buffalo Bayou and be safe from Covid. Blackburn | ||
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DAY 190
September 27, 2020 Today we celebrate a different type of bird – a bird that made a beautiful sound with words that are often stiff and stilted, a bird that we all should pause and thank for the song that she brought, for its hope, for its inspiration. Ruth Bader Ginsburg is among the people that I truly admire – people like Muhammad Ali who was an extremely brave man, people that stand up and attempt to speak against wrongdoing, regardless of the consequences. I learned in law school that I was not well suited to certain aspects of the law – the part where you gave deference to the authority - the logic - of prior cases. I have always been interested in – have worked for – change in our system as it relates to environmental thinking and I kept (and keep) encountering the problem of bad precedent. Consider Texas groundwater law. The ruling case on Texas groundwater is the East case that goes back to 1904 (relying on an English case from 1843) and to this day the Texas courts refuse to apply modern legal rules to sucking water out of the ground because, among other reasons, groundwater analysis involves the occult. It’s true – the prevailing case that established the Rule of Capture as Texas law includes the court’s concern about the occult. The court was referring to water witches, the practice of finding water with a forked stick, which supposedly can lead an experienced practitioner to groundwater. I have no patience for those who swear allegiance to the East case even though they know that we have much better science today. RBG was adept at making those fine distinctions that can change the law in a slow but steady manner, and I admire and respect the work that she other such scholars do, but that was not my path. So it is with great respect to a true giant that Isabelle and I offer this painting and this poem. Isabelle told me that the lace around the neck of the robe on this painting is real. Enjoy the poem and be careful out there. We are all getting tired and likely a bit sloppy about good practices. Stick with them. We will be doing this for a many more moons. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 189
September 26, 2020 I have to say that with all these many problems that we are experiencing these days, I really can’t complain. In addition to adequate food and shelter and my wonderful wife Garland, I also get to receive these paintings from Isabelle. Although I may request a particular bird every so often, Isabelle also just comes up with these paintings that I have never seen and that we have never talked about, and she sends them to me with the prospect, the hope of the creation of a poem to match. What a delight and what a neat challenge. I wrote the poem to go with this bird based on the title that Isabelle sent with it – Soul Bird of My Imagination – a title that resonated with me. But after writing the poem, I decided that a bit more investigation into the artist’s thinking would be of interest to you out there. So I asked her to tell me a bit about this soul bird, and she started by explaining that red is the color of the heart and this bird is big and full of enthusiasm and fun and is all one color and loves to eat watermelon. I asked her why does this bird eat watermelon and she replied that she has some watermelon earrings that she likes, and she loves to paint watermelons and that a soul bird should eat them. She went on to explain that stuff just comes into her head and it all comes together but not in any real plan or linear thinking way. She described this piece as spirit investigation. So hopefully I have written a poem that reflects a bit of spirit investigation and spiritual flight. Be safe out there – our favorite virus is waiting for you to let your guard down. And remember this weekend to touch base with several people you care about. Spirit to spirit. Communicate. That’s important. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 188
September 25, 2020 September 25, 2020. 40 days until the election. 100 days until 2021 which cannot get here soon enough. I will celebrate the coming of the New Year. I am tired of 2020. I am tired of Covid. I am tired of this election. But none of these things are departing from our lives anytime soon. We live in what I feel are perilous times. I have had several people write who were concerned about reports that the Atlantic had just released an article that President Trump was planning to steal the election. I have seen other writings about President Trump refusing to stand down if he lost the election and actually saw him say something like that on the news last night. The point here is that I have lived through many elections and have never heard this type of concern voiced before any of them. We have always proceeded with the understanding that the loser would gracefully bow out. All of us must be concerned about and pay attention to this election regardless of whom you favor for President. Our precedent is the peaceful and orderly transition of power. These are times that require us to act like the citizens of this country that we are. This is our country. It is what we make it. It is what we allow it to become. In a bit lighter vein, one of you wrote to me and offered the following. I think it appropriate. | ||
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DAY 187
September 24, 2020 Good morning. We are going to depart from things natural to things supernatural – a real, live cowman, complete with hooves for hands and the peaceful face of a grazer. Actually, today we are celebrating friendships – that part of life where we find that there are some people we just click with – where we link up and come together and enjoy each other’s company and/or help each other through the day or maybe laugh at each other’s bad jokes. Friendships last through Covid and are perhaps even enhanced by separation, but the best thing about friends is enjoying their company, and we all have been lacking that connection with friends. I must say through this virus vigil I feel that I have become friends with many of you that I have never met, simply by sharing thoughts across space. But this poem today is about a man who has been a great friend to me since the mid-1970s when we first met, and we remain great friends through today. And in this poem, I talk about my work in creating a standard for storing carbon in the soil. One of the principles that I believe to be essential is about fair treatment of landowners who have been doing the right thing over the years – being good stewards of the land like my friend H.C. – and how we had to set up a system that was fair to people like him – good, honest, hard-working people who we have to look in the eye and say the system we are creating will treat them fairly. Now Garland has been advising me not to mix too much work stuff into these morning discussions, but I can’t help it. It just comes out sometimes. But the point today is to encourage you to reach out to your friends – tell them that you are thinking about them, miss them or just care for them. Give them a virtual hug for friendship is a key to living life well. Now go and be safe from Covid for another day. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 186
September 23, 2020 Day 186, and the U.S. has passed 200,000 Covid deaths. My, my. What a blunder. If we had been smart, we could have avoided a good bit of this, worn masks and figured out how to keep things going a bit better than we have. Today, I am back in Cuba (not for real), and I am reminded that Cuba has one of the better health care systems in the Americas. Pretty interesting stuff. Cuba and Covid – an interesting pairing. I asked you to write with stories about what you do to avoid Covid or otherwise cope. Several of you admitted to getting a puppy, and most everyone commented about the mental anchor that Covid represents, a constant drag, a constant downer that one had to develop antidotes to, such as finding humor. Apparently a lot of people have been watching Schitt’s Creek just to get a laugh or two. But one of the most thoughtful responses was a short mention of simplicity – that Covid had stripped away the veneer of our U.S. existence and pared us back quite a lot. And there is truth in that. Garland and I cook these days, rather than eating out like we used to do almost constantly. Today I appreciate and miss friends to a greater extent than before when we took each other for granted. The other night we met with several close friends sitting around – masked up, socially distant - in a large circle in Isabelle and John’s backyard and had a fabulous, simple time – nothing fancy, just really grateful to be around each other. Grateful to be alive, grateful to see friends, grateful for those things that are truly important. That may be the gift of Covid, if there is one. But reading tis reader’s comments about simplicity brought back images of Cuba – images of a country that has been pared back to the basics for many reasons – a country where the citizens are subjected to powerful forces beyond their control – a country where there is music everywhere – a country that represents simplicity (and I do not mean that in a derogatory manner). Cuba is confusing. Cuba was a wonderful experience. So – on the day of our 200,000th death, consider the Cuban blackbird. And be simple and safe. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 185
September 22, 2020 Hello again. “Aint it funny, how time slips away?” Willie’s words again leading us off, and explaining that somehow, it has become Day 185. Today allow me to introduce you to the Mexican black bear which can now be found in several places near the border. Black bear were once found over much of Texas and I have been told that they are also coming back in East Texas, but I have seen a photograph of a black bear taken on a ranch in the southwestern Hill Country not far from the Mexican border. Black bear are known inhabitants of the mountains down into Mexico and are known to be in Big Bend, but I was unaware of black bear in the Hill Country until I was talking with Jeff Mundy, the environmental litigator who has been working hard to protect all types of endangered species in the Hill Country. He was on this particular to ranch to set up a deal to allow the transplanting of many endangered cactus plants, the Tobusch Fishhook Cactus, that were being removed from a pipeline right of way on another ranch. Under this deal, the receiving landowner was being paid to provide a new home for the cactus that would have been destroyed by pipeline construction. This agreement indicates the way environmentalists and ranchers and pipelines are trying to work together. It is important to note that in this part of the Hill Country, income off the land comes hard, and endangered species may be a way to provide some income. I am hoping to expand the concepts first started with the Texas Coastal Exchange to the Texas Hill Country where we are investigating setting up an exchange for carbon stored in the oak-juniper forest and also for protecting the groundwater near springs and also for protecting the many endangered species that are found in this really critical temple of Earth Church called the Texas Hill Country. We will see how that proposal develops. In the meantime, stay Covid safe. Blackburn | ||
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DAY 184
September 21, 2020 Day 184 and I’m still riding high from a day on Matagorda Bay. And what a great day it was, the last day to be on the water before our new storm Beta made the bay too dangerous for play. From the moment we got on the boat in Matagorda Harbor and exited the marina, the day was magical. The tide was very high and our friend and guide Al Garrison runs a flat-bottom boat that can get far back in the marsh on a normal tide, so on this day we could really roam the marshlands, and Matagorda Bay has some wonderful smooth cordgrass marshlands on the both the north and south shorelines. High points of the day are in the poem, but let me recount one short segment. We were going very slow up to the far end of a channel cutting into the Matagorda Peninsula south of Matagorda. The channel was about twice as wide as the boat and as we moved forward, we approached a salt cedar from which flew a beautiful black-crowned night heron, going right in front of the boat, providing an excellent view, and then circling back to land back in the cedars, realizing that we were no threat. We anchored just past the cedars, and I looked down the slough and could see the sand dunes of the peninsula with the surf pounding just beyond. And to my right was a patch of prairie – a small field of flowers - dominated by late summer sunflowers. The wind was blowing the blossoms back and forth, and you could just taste the salt in the air, as an osprey flew over, checking the water, looking for a meal. Just really lovely. I have had a few readers write for information about where to stay and where to go in Matagorda. I will try to find ideas for staying in Matagorda. We usually just get up early and drive down listening to Captain Mickey Eastman talk to fishing guides on the KTRH radio 740 am fishing show, a coastal tradition, so I don’t really know the best ideas for spending the night in Matagorda. For that, I would recommend the Peaceful Pelican in Palacios as a great place to stay and not too far from Matagorda. As for places to visit and bird watch, the LCRA maintains the Matagorda Bay Nature Park across the Matagorda bridge over the Gulf Intracoastal Waterway and down near the beach on the right with camping facilities and kayak rentals according to the web site. The River Bend Marina is a great place to eat as is the café at the Matagorda Harbor. In the meanwhile, I will report on the Covid tricks and trivia from our readers soon. Be safe. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 183
September 20, 2020 Hello all. Well, it is Day 183 and I am RECHARGED by Matagorda Bay. To say it was exquisite is such an understatement. I need a bit of time to digest what I experienced before I try to bring the bay to you in all its splendor. Suffice it to say that the wind was blowing and the tide was up and birds were everywhere and it was really great. Earth Church hugged me to my spiritual core. And beyond. For today, I want to muse upon our responses to Covid and find humor and entertainment in it. But first – let me be clear. Covid has destroyed normality. It has ripped our foundation out from under us and has taken away stability and comfort and it challenges our mental health. To offer some help with the separation was the thinking behind this vigil, but we had no idea of the extent of the disruption that was and continues to be visited upon us. Add some politics and an economic downturn to that, and we find ourselves in a very toxic mix. We must reach out and try to find spiritual nurture and we must laugh. In the hope of generating some laughter, I would like to focus your attention on what we are doing in an attempt to avoid Covid. I am talking beyond masks. What efforts are you making beyond wearing masks and practicing social distancing and staying home to avoid Covid infection? Garland and I wash our groceries when we get home, which is a step beyond. But we did encounter a neighbor recently who was wearing gloves to pick up the paper to avoid contamination. When we got to talking, he began telling Garland and me all that he and his wife were doing to avoid Covid. Among the more interesting was the fact that he would bake his newspaper in the oven for an hour before reading it to eliminate Covid, saying that he and his wife joked about “hot news” or “hot off the press”. I have not heard of that before. Let me hear of your stories and practices or perhaps what you do to avoid the blues of separation, of loneliness, of loss of connectivity. One friend just warned of becoming addicted to YouTube videos. At any rate, let me hear from you with your thoughts. And finally, today Isabelle has painted the ocelot, a beautiful South Texas mammal that is endangered and that attorney Jeff Mundy and I tried to protect a few years ago in federal court in Laredo, a practice that he has expanded significantly over the last few years, a practice that is a key part of the mammal series that we will be presenting in the vigil. Enjoy the ocelot and be safe. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 182
September 19, 2020 Greetings. It is day 182 and you are getting this delivery a bit earlier than normal because I am off to enjoy Earth Church in Matagorda Bay. The first hint of fall is in the air, and the tide might be really high with yet another storm in the Gulf, this one threatening major rain here on the Texas coast. An interesting thing about a lot of rain. Some areas can handle a lot of rain better than other areas because of the type of soil that they have. My friend and partner at the SSPEED Center – Dr. Phil Bedient – and I were talking about Hurricane Sally and the recent rainfall in Pensacola and he told me that they would not be hurt as badly by that amount of rain as would Houston because their soil is very sandy and permeable and ours has a whole lot of concrete and clay underlying soils that do not accept water as readily. At any rate, I will have a personal report on how things are looking on Matagorda Bay where I hope to enjoy a major Earth Church event. Take care. Covid still lurks. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 181
September 18, 2020 Hello all. Day 181. I am sure that most of you are experiencing some form of anxiety or another over Covid – whether it is hearing that someone you have interacted with, even in passing, has been diagnosed, or a friend or a loved one has been exposed, or you just feel a bit bad and wonder if this is the onset. And there is the continuing separation that I know works on me. The thinking behind this vigil was to reach out and connect through art and poetry and good intention and that continues to be goal. So give yourself a hug, or a hand on a shoulder, from me today as I say thanks for the outpouring of good wishes for the Baby Jacana. In response, I am sending a second poem about the stars, as star gazing and star travel was a very popular effort the other day. There is magic and mystery in the world and I am concerned that we have lost the fun of that magic and mystery. We are clinical in our pursuit of information from our machines and can hide within those screens where we seem to think that all knowledge can be found. But walking outside and experiencing life – feeling it deep in your bones – looking up into the sky at night and realizing that you are part of something that is beyond our understanding – now that is an essential part of life and living. And more important is learning to relish that encounter with uncertainty, an encounter with the beginning of time and unknowing and realizing the Earth is the only place in that vastness where life as we know it occurs, at least with our current state of knowledge. Why that fact is not more important to humans is beyond my understanding – there is only place in the great vast universe that fosters life as we know it and we don’t celebrate it. We don’t make it the spiritual focus of our lives and living. We might also focus a bit more on keeping the Earth alive as we depend on it. Stars and universe are a key piece of that spirituality – of Earth Church - the unknown yen to the known yang of Earth. Enjoy the yen. And be safe out there. | ||
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DAY 180
September 17, 2020 Well campers. We start day 180 with a quiz. Do you know what the image above is? Well, if you guessed a baby Jacana, you are half right. It is also a self-image of myself – James B. Blackburn, Jr. – on the event of my 73rd birthday, e.g, today. After 73 years, this is what it has come to – I’m a Baby Jacana and happy about it. The feathers are a bit unruly, but there is purpose in the eye, and my, what a nice stride. JBB at 73. Yessirree. And my hat’s off to the artist. I think she captured me well, don’t you? In the meantime, I want to thank you all for the great responses to the star poem and painting. First, Isabelle’s artwork definitely received multiple kudos, with some thinking it the best effort yet. And then some of the thoughts that were sent in response to the poem were just fantastic. One person wrote of loving to go to Taos to visit the vistas and see the stars, an activity he described as making him feel both small and essential. What a nice combination – small yet essential. Small but okay – small with a role in this big, wide universe. Another said she wished we could wish upon a star and vanquish Covid, to which I heartily agree. That would be a nice birthday present, but from what I am hearing, that is not happening anytime soon. Another reader said she just enjoyed the escape from Covid with the trip to the stars. Another just wanted to go flying through the stars. And below today’s poem is a photograph taken in Aspen by one of our readers – a photo of Jupiter and its four moons. Really nice. Another just mentioned that the Star poem was a wonderful journey in the midst of this all. Certainly an escape into the vastness, the greatness of the stars and the universe feeds any number different sentiments, emotions, concepts and all of them are about appreciating who and what we are and where we find ourselves and, in a real sense, giving into it and simply experiencing it and yes, escaping Covid. You guys really made my day yesterday and guess what? Isabelle has painted several more star portraits that you will meet if I can find the appropriate words – perhaps a poem about small but essential, perhaps one about flight and escape from this stuff. Thank you all. And now, my birthday poem to self. And be safe. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 179
September 16, 2020 Day 179 and Covid marches on – and I’m getting very tired of Covid as I’m sure the rest of you are. Someone wrote and asked for a painting and a poem about stars and guess what – her wish was Isabelle’s and my command and presto, here it is. Now – that is service, brought to you by your friendly painter and poet. Now, this poem is not your Walt Disney “when you wish upon a star” treatment here, although there is a bit of Jiminy Cricket in it. I would like to think that Old Walt would enjoy this treatment, and it could be a fun, very short animation, but this is a bit more David Bowie-Ziggy Stardust-inspired. But such is the way with poetry at Camp Hideaway where we look out upon the stars and then blast off. On another note, I have enjoyed the responses to the peafowl/cock/hen. There were some humorous stories related to peaCOCKs and their romance strategy, and I did do some reading about the peafowl/cock/hen and it did specifically mention that the length of the trailing tail matters to the peahen, so breeding success goes with the big tail. I guess you really wouldn’t want a poem about the parade of tails – no – I won’t go there. Otherwise, I am tired of hurricanes, and we have an Atlantic full of them not to mention Sally at the doorstep of Louisiana/Mississippi/Alabama. We keep our fingers crossed here on the Texas coast, but I don’t like the location of those last two coming off the coast of Africa. And it is getting hotter and hotter each year, a fact that will continue to worsen the storms and fires going forward until we act. By the way, the City of Houston has released a study of what climate change will mean for the future of Houston. It is by Dr. Kathryn Hayhoe, my favorite climate scientist, who is an evangelical Christian and who famously said at a speech in Houston: “I don’t believe in climate change. I believe in my faith, but I don’t believe in climate change. It is science. It is fact. It is not about belief.” I love that – playing off the way we misuse words – catching us wondering if she is really a climate denier and then chuckling at her elegant wordplay to make a great point. The climate is changing but most of us do not know much about it. So take a look at what it has in store for Houston in the attached PDF (the one that is not a poem). If you have never looked at a climate change report before, you will be very surprised. Don’t read it at first, just page through looking at the images, particularly those about temperature, rainfall and sea level rise (figures 6, 7, 8). Then you might want to read it. It is all based upon what we do about carbon dioxide emissions in the future. And the size of the reduction matters, hence the different scenarios in the study. Be safe out there and start preparing your voting strategy. Every single vote counts this year. Blackburn. | ||||
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DAY 178
September 15, 2020 Hello campers. Today we are looking for tigers in India, an experience from Garland’s and my and Isabelle’s first trip to India when we saw tigers in several reserves on a trip sponsored by the World Wildlife Fund. And what a wonderful trip it was. When we start travelling again, consider putting India on your list. Our guide was superb and seeing India through the eyes of our artist Isabelle was a treat. So campers, picture this: we are on a bus – sitting together at the back of bus as we drive from Nagpur to Bandhavgarh tiger reserve. Our guide is great, explaining all about the politics of India, the caste system – all that stuff tourists are supposed to be focused upon, when Isabelle starts jumping from one side of the bus to the other, pointing at things along the road – things the guide took for granted – things an artist sees like a wreath of marigolds around the trunk of the tree, or a small shrine at the base of a tree, or a five foot high cobra head with seven beautiful women painted on the flared neck, and then three tridents beside the road with long strands of cut-off hair lying on the grass, and much more – spiritual things, the type of things that let you know your are not in Texas anymore, things like a temple to the monkey god Hanuman, things like Ganesh riding on his rat carrier. What a wonderful trip that was, and we four have been back since three more times and wish to go again. India is by far the most spiritual, the most mind-opening country I have ever visited. I was changed by that experience and in fact became interested in writing poetry in India after taking a workshop on creativity from photographer Geoff Winningham in Oaxaca. I may share my poem about the river Narmada some time, a poem about waking up to the sound of clothing being washed and beaten on the rocks down below my room. But now, we are off tiger watching. Be safe out there. If you feel yourself getting a bit shaky after these months of isolation, reach out to someone close to you or to me if you wish. Camp Hideaway will be with us for a bit longer. By the way, peafowl is the correct name for what we all call peacocks. The peacock is the male and the peahen is the female, but they both end up being called peacocks. From what I have read, it is the males that are the prime vocalizers, although there is not much about that. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 177
September 14, 2020 Hello campers. And for today, a meditation. How many us ever learned to meditate at summer camp? If anyone says yes, I will be very surprised. But we meditate at Camp Hideaway – yes indeed we do. Meditation is something that each of us likely approaches in different ways if at all. Some empty their mind – vacating the space, seeking to calm the beast within by not feeding it. Yet others remove themselves to a sacred place and enjoy the scenery there, like upon a mesa. And I have no doubt that there are countless other ways as I am no expert upon the nuance of meditation. The point is that meditation was not a concept of my youth – not a summer camp pursuit at the Valley Christian Encampment where the girls swam at a different time than the boys and we both wore robes to and from the pool – not really a place where we were trusted to learn to think for ourselves. Anyway, I love living life on the Earth and being part of it – connected to you all, connected to nature – and contemplating the Earth, following its ins and outs, meeting the inhabitants - that is my meditation. It makes waking up each day a really nice thing. Isabelle considers today’s art offering a meditation on nature. I wrote back to her when I got this piece, inquiring about it and asking particularly about the fuzzy rectangle below the circle. Here is her response to me. “It is a small piece of stitching that looks like vegetation to me. The pink and green colors are the colors of the heart chakra. The center piece is a red bead that represents the heart for me. The whole thing is a meditation .. abstract pondering on caring for the circular nature of life.” From the mouth of the artist to me and then you, so I tried to write a poem in sync with the intent of the artist. Enjoy the art and poetry and be safe out there. Dr. Fauci thinks we will be connected by the virus vigil for quite some time in the future. And he does seem to know what he's talking about. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 176
September 13, 2020 Day 176 and Dr. Fauci just announced today that his best assessment is that we are not going to be “back to normal” until the latter part of 2021. I hope you like camping because it looks like Camp Hideaway is going to be at it for a while. And we still have a good supply of material, although as you can tell we are integrating some of the Isabelle’s paintings from the plant world as well as some of her more free-form artistry. We are committed to keeping this up for a while longer, and I will be happy to take any requests for subjects that you might be interested in or birds that we have not covered that you might like to see on these pages. I did take a Covid test on Friday (required by Rice for all of us coming into contact with students) and it came back negative, so that’s good, but the tests only help for a short while and then you get to thinking again that you might have let your guard down. And I might write a poem about how much I hate that probe that they stick up your nose. For now, we must adopt a very defensive way of living out of necessity. Today’s subject is the purple seed pod that Isabelle sent me, along with two other seed pods that will be coming later. She thinks of pods as nature’s incubator, but I see this pod more abstractly as the key to the future economy of Houston and much of Texas if not the United States. Change is upon us – change represented by our climate, by the build-up of plastics in the world, by our impacts on the Earth and each other. Solutions exist such as the seeds in this purple pod, and the sooner we understand and embrace them, the better. This is what I am teaching these days, and this is what I am researching at Rice and writing about when I’m not trying to develop new poems. There is a future for oil and gas, but it will require change in the current course of business. There is a future in plastics but it will require a change in course. There is a future for Houston but it will require a change of course. I am fascinated how a city or state, a corporation or a nation can be the defining entity in one century as Houston was with oil, plastics and technology in the 20th Century – the perfect 20th Century place, and then potentially lose its global status as a player in the 21st Century. It can be likened to being in Chicago with a map to Detroit. We can study the map hard but it won’t help. We need a different map, one for the place where we now live. We run the risk of becoming irrelevant, but we also have the opportunity to lead. So which path do we choose? For those interested in this, I am teaching a short course about these subjects for Rice Continuing Studies with six classes being offered in the evening by Zoom over seven weeks starting in early October (I am skipping election night). Let me know if you might be interested in attending and I will get you further information. In the meantime, stay safe out there. Covid is here to stay for a while. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 175
September 12, 2020 Hello all. Day 175 has arrived and with it a number of issues and questions from you faithful readers and art admirers out there. First, I have a had several of you ask if I am doing all this travel during the time of Covid. The answer is NO. Most international travel that I either have or will be describing has taken place over the last 30 years and most Mexico adventures go back 40 or more years. More recently, I/we have been birding to Chambers County and Galveston Island and Quintana, fishing in Galveston Bay, driving to and from Beaumont and going to our place in Wimberley. No big trips and not enough smaller ones. So – I’m trying to be Covid-safe. And secondly, I want to thank all of you for responding to the inquiry about the snipe hunt and your feelings about it. I must admit – kissing was not a common experience but was reported by more than one of you and another mentioned that it wasn’t a snipe hunt but she was skinny dipping and her clothes were taken, which has a certain meanness to it. The bottom line is that many of you have experienced snipe hunts and the result is mixed – some hated them, others have a bit more fond memories of them. As for more serious hazing, no question about current attitudes although a few admitted that their take on that issue changed with age. Verdict – hung jury on snipe hunting, hazing convicted of violation of good sense. Now, let’s move on to Thailand and a trip from several years ago with JC and Isabelle and Garland, and the bird of today is the lovely Jungle Fowl that Isabelle has really done a great job on. We saw the Jungle Fowl there in Thailand and I believe we also saw it in India on trips taken years ago – trips we absolutely enjoyed, with Thailand being a wonderful, gentle place with great food and India simply being the most spiritual place I have ever entered, also with great food. India helped form some of my Earth Church thinking and it remains one of my favorite temples on Earth, although the big cities can certainly be harsh. Anyway, take care and enjoy the Jungle Fowl and let’s hope that we can once again travel to wonderful places like Thailand and India. Be safe. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 174
September 11, 2020 Day 174. We are really living in weird times. There are aspects of these days that seem a lot like President Nixon’s second term and Watergate, with new revelations coming every day and Bob Woodward back in the mix. I’m beyond angry about this situation. All I can say is be sure and vote. And I must say I am concerned about voting by mail. I am going to try to vote in person, probably in early voting, to make sure my vote gets included. Never seen a situation where I was truly concerned that my vote might not be counted, but that is where we are, with the situation with Post Office and mixed information about the voting rules when it comes to voting by mail. So, when I start getting down about politics or about Covid, I turn to Earth Church, and it never fails to brighten my day. So today, my ray of light is coming from the hawk-watching platform at Smith Point, a lovely destination in Chambers County on the other side of Galveston Bay. We depart Houston and head east on IH-10, cross the Trinity River Delta and turn south on 61 to 562 and stay to the right at the intersection south of Double Bayou and go to the end of the road and look for the signs for the Candy Abshier Wildlife Management Area. Today we are looking for migrating hawks, about 70% of which will be broadwings, with an array of other varieties mixed in, and to help there is always a group of expert birders who can help identify the birds, although with social distancing, the platform capacity will be limited, but you can see the kettles from most anywhere in the Smith Point area as the hawks that are migrating south reach the end of the mainland, and come down to try to find their way around Galveston Bay and then on down the coast. This migration peaks in the last two weeks of September. The hawk watch is run by the Gulf Coast Bird Observatory, another excellent non-profit. So get out there and look for some birds and be safe, but do something. We’ve been at this for more than 174 days and it is working on our heads. So go visit Earth Church and let’s get our collective (and connected) heads straight. Blackburn | ||
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DAY 173
September 10, 2020 Greetings. Day 173. Isabelle has done a great job on today’s bird, the snipe, a bird that is synonymous with a certain type of “hunt” which is really not a hunt but rather a practical joke and our bird of the day is not happy about being used in this way as you can tell by its eye and its foot. And that event has elicited both a poem and a discussion among friends regarding a snipe hunt, and more generally, about rites of passage, hazing, ways of being accepted into a group. I have been a member of some organizations that had hazing as part of their ritual of acceptance, and I made it through, and there are certainly elements of bonding to it. On the other hand, someone could have been hurt. I wasn’t of a mindset to challenge the rituals. I wanted to be part of the group and wasn’t particularly concerned about what was required at that point in my life. But some hazing becomes mean. Some hazing is very damaging and dangerous. And some hazing should not occur. But where do you draw the line? And who draws it? When hazing becomes a practical joke, when people do something to ridicule someone, to laugh at someone, is that more acceptable? And that brings us to the snipe hunt, an event where an unsuspecting newcomer is taken out into a field and told to stand out there with a bag in their hand and catch the snipe when it comes through. The rest of us say we are going to chase the snipe to the newcomer and then we leave them in the field, “holding the bag”. According to Wikipedia, the font of all wisdom, “the snipe is said to resemble a cross between a jackrabbit and a squirrel; a squirrel-like bird with one red and one green eye; a small, black, furry bird-like animal that only comes out during a full moon, and so on.” Documentation of snipe hunts go back to the 1840s in the U.S. and - you heard it here first - be wary if a French speaking lad or lass comes by asking you to come with them to hunt the dahut. You don’t want to go there. In fact, the snipe is a real bird as elegantly painted by Isabelle. It is a lovely bird of the marshes that I actually hunted as a boy in Louisiana. It turns out that I never have been on a “snipe hunt” but if invited, would have showed up with a gun most likely and asking “what is this bag for – you can’t catch a snipe with a bag”. So with that rambling discussion, if you have strong feelings about practical jokes – fun? not fun? should be practiced? should not be? – well, let me hear from you. In closing, I must tell you about my Covid scare. I got in the car to run some errands and came out of the grocery store and was heading back home when I started breaking out in a sweat. I was really hot – hotter than the outside temp would cause – and I was thinking – “This is it. I’ve got it” – when I looked down at the dashboard and realized I had somehow tripped the seat heater which really did its job well. I had to break out laughing at myself as did Garland when told about it. So avoid the seat heater switch and be safe. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 172
September 9, 2020 Hello campers. Okay, today is a big road trip. We are going to Cuba on a trip that was approved by the U.S. government. Unfortunately, this was a trip that Isabelle and her husband John Chapman did not take with Garland and me so I don’t have images from Isabelle to go with all of the poems I wrote about that trip, but she painted a Limpkin and that was one of the birds we saw on the trip, so you get a little Cuba. So buckle your seatbelts for we depart from Miami and land in Camaguey in south-central Cuba, and we are immediately whisked off on our tour bus to an improvised dance recital at a dance studio housed in a former estate that in many ways remains as it was when taken over in the late 1950s, complete with a bathroom with a green porcelain bathtub and a green porcelain wash basin just like it was when the owners were evicted. There is no doubt that we are on very different terrain here – it is evident from the first few hours on. One thing that we will see over and over on this Cuban adventure is overwhelming evidence that Fidel and Raul and Che were the real thing – revolutionaries that overturned the status quo. For real. Seriously. No joking. Cuba is hard and real. Very sobering. And very interesting, and in some ways, very spiritual in a totally secular manner, a country with no advertising, a country where art is elevated and where music is revered and live music is present at every stop in multiple places, morning, noon and night. A place that is struggling economically decades after the revolution. We move from Camaguey to Sancti Spiritus where we see the cave swallows taking mud from a puddle to build their nests, taking what they need from the puddle in the square, reminding me of the revolutionaries taking what they needed. And next we are off to Trinidad down on the coast, where, along the way, we visit a national park where we are transported to the highlands in a Russian troop carrier converted to ecotourism duty at a park created by Raul Castro - a park where we see the Cuban Trogon in a Cecropia tree and where we watch the pairs of Cuban parrots move from one side of the valley to another as we sit sipping coffee in the cool mountain morning air – a park where I smile at the irony of the whole scene. Later, we see the Cuban Emerald Hummingbird working the flowers on the estate that is now occupied and operated by the children of people who used to work on this land. And this morning we wake before dawn and go birding in the Zapata Swamp, a wonderful wilderness on the southern coast of Cuba near the Bay of Pigs. And after joining me for this Zapata swamp trek, please be safe out there for Covid is still among us after these 172 days. And if you are good and the artist and I can coordinate on a new offering, we might continue the rest of this trek into Havana in a later vigil update. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 171
September 8, 2020 Today is Day 171. Whew. Isabelle and I are engaged in an art and poetry marathon. We thought we were in for a short little sprint or maybe a middle distance jog but we are racking up the days with no end in sight until a vaccine arrives. I hope you are being vigilant out there during this vigil and that our daily missives are bringing you a bit of connectuality that we all need. From a personal standpoint, I know that I have gotten a tremendous amount from sending these daily messages and Isabelle tells me the same is true for her. This virus vigil is unlike anything we have ever done before as is the Covid experience for all of us, but by doing this vigil, I feel life and living more acutely, more poignantly – I feel the presence of the disease lurking around every corner, and the horror of the politics surrounding addressing the disease, and the isolation brought about by Covid. Thank you all for allowing Isabelle and me to enter your daily routine. Today, I want you to meet the Willet, a bird I know very well, but always on its terms. This is one of the bird images that I have been holding back until I felt I had a poem worthy of the bird – a bird that seems ever present when I am out and about in my kayak. This is one of Isabelle’s earlier bird images as you can tell by the fact that it is on a cigar box, although she got a new shipment of cigar boxes a while back from friend Bryan and has begun to use them again, although most of her newer work is on book covers. Today, the poem comes from deep within Earth Church, offering a bit of a meditation on who and what we are. Be safe and enjoy the art and the poem. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 170
September 7, 2020 Hello campers. It is Day 170 on this crazy virus vigil that I called a virus vision in yesterday’s title page – totally by accident – although I think we are all having visions after all this time wandering in the wasteland of the virus. But we continue along, and today is Labor Day, and I thought I would write about my job all these many years as a lawyer for the birds and bunnies. It is interesting how working for the birds and bunnies gives you a very different perspective. It’s not that I did not work for people – I did for many people and helped many of them solve problems. But I never was too interested in the pursuit of contingency fee cases to right wrongs and to make a bunch of money. It just wasn’t what appealed to me. I once took a call from an excellent trial lawyer for defendants who was with one of the biggest Houston firms who asked me why I didn’t do more plaintiff’s work on these major dollar damage cases. He told me I knew more about the science than any of the lawyers litigating those cases and that he thought I would do excellent work for the plaintiffs that were likely to be litigating against his clients, and I told him it just didn’t really interest me. That’s not to say I didn’t take such cases. I did to some extent. I used them to subsidize my birds and bunnies cases which is what I truly loved to pursue. And I must say that an important element here is to have a wife who agreed with this approach and who contributed substantially to our personal income as a partner in a CPA firm. Thanks Garland. And over the years, there have been many birds and bunnies cases – cases involving protecting rivers and streams, bays and bayous, coastal and prairie wetlands, coastal and inland endangered species, and the forested flood plain bottomlands that are the stopovers for our migrant songbird flocks. And throughout, I have gotten to know the birds and bunnies of the Texas coast. I have greeted and litigated on behalf of the migrant flocks that flow like a river through the coast, the endangered species like the whooping cranes, the piping plover, the Kemps ridley sea turtle, the Houston toad, the golden cheeked warbler and the black capped vireo. I got to understand the way an oyster spawns, and the movement of the shrimp and crabs from the marshes to the Gulf and back again. There is a rhythm to these systems. There is magic in these systems. There is a spirituality – a religion if you will - in the these systems, and I have embraced it and called it Earth Church that you have gotten to know during these 170 days. So for the last thirty-three years, when I go to work, on a good day I am also attending services of Earth Church. Enjoy my labor day tribute to myself, a lawyer for the birds and bunnies. And be safe out there. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 169
September 6, 2020 Once again, for the 169th time, good morning. Welcome again to Camp Hideaway where today we are involved in gardening – the art of growing – whether it be for good things to eat or a lovely outside area for your home. Today I am using my lovely wife Garland Kerr as my subject for this light-hearted tribute to gardening – a poem directly derived from this fine image by Isabelle. As I am sure I have told you in the past, Isabelle and her husband John Chapman and Garland and I are life-long friends, and we have done things together for decades, either as couples or with each other. Among those activities are gardening. Isabelle and Garland have worked for many years in the Dominican Sisters community garden after being certified as master gardeners by Harris County. And Garland spends countless hours in our yard/garden which has no regular grass that you mow, but which is a collection of various native plants that bloom and bring butterflies and bees into this area where I have erected my outside Covid home-office. Garland has for years been involved with Urban Harvest, a wonderful non-profit organization here in Houston that is devoted to growing healthy food and providing services such as a Farmer’s Market and support to a wonderful community garden network. If you are looking for a worthy cause to support, Urban Harvest should be on the list. Gardening and plants are part of Garland’s daily routine, and enjoying the fruits of her effort is part of my routine. And remember, if you want to catch up on the prior 168 days of the vigil, you can go to https://www.jimblackburninfo.com/virus-vigil.html. That web site also has updates on various projects that I have mentioned such as the Texas Coastal Exchange which was just awarded along with Kirksey Architects a Houston future vision award from the American Institute of Architects as was the Galveston Bay Park Plan which I may have mentioned. So – nice recognition for two projects that I and my fellow team members at SSPEED Center helped develop. And also, many of you have sent a name for me to add to the mailing list and many others have signed up through the web site. Although Camille Chenevert, my assistant in my planning firm, has done a great job of both running the web site and sending me names to add, I have probably dropped the ball a few times on the emails sent directly to me. If you sent me a name to add and I did not, do not hesitate to resend a name and I will do my best to add it to the distribution list. Enjoy this tribute to gardening, aided as always by the imaginative painting of our artist Isabelle. And be safe out there. This holiday is not over. Blackburn | ||
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DAY 168
September 5, 2020 Hello there. Welcome to the Labor Day continuation of Camp Hideaway. And are you hiding from the virus today? I’d like you group of devoted readers to stay well. Good audiences are hard to come by. Today’s poem is about the least grebe, a bird that is great at diving and fishing, and perhaps more importantly, today’s poem is about place. Place is a key concept in Earth Church. We all need to know the “place” where we live – where we recreate – where we make our living. I am amazed at how little most Houstonians know about the ecology surrounding Houston which is spectacular, although in defense of Houstonians, most are from some other place and moved to Houston for economic reasons. By my count, we have ten distinctly different ecological systems surrounding Houston which is an incredibly varied ecological setting compared to most places. We have the Big Thicket that comes in from the east, we have the loblolly pine forests to the north, and the post oak savannah to the northwest. There is a strip of prairie grasslands running east-west in the central and southern part of the Houston region where most development can be found and where most people live. There are the Columbia Bottomlands along the Brazos, San Bernard Colorado Rivers to the south and west (dry flood plain forest), the coastal marshes along the coast, Galveston Bay on the east and south, the Gulf beyond that, the barrier islands between bay and Gulf and the Trinity Bottomlands (swamplands) to the east. I got to know these areas by representing them and the people who know and love these places in court – got to know them to the extent I now consider the Texas coast “my place”. Landscape architect Charles Tapley and I created a map in the 1990s called Houston’s ecological capital which we used in the class on environmental planning that we were teaching in the Rice School of Architecture, and I still believe these resources are one part of the long-term economic future of the Houston region if we can learn to “value” them correctly. As a key concept of Earth Church, we should all know our place – our church – and celebrate our place on Earth. So enjoy this poem about place, and have a safe holidays. Blackburn | ||
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DAY 167
September 4, 2020 Hello again. Today, we are out on the range - the cactus range. I know I am departing from the birds but how can a poet pass up an opportunity to write a poem to go with a painting like the one before you. There are so many directions to go here. Neil Young has a song about the cinnamon girl. Well what about the cactus girl? We had the cactus wren earlier – a bird finely balanced between the cactus pads, but this is no balancing act before you. This is a woman who is one with the cactus. Look at those fingers closely. She is connected – cactus connectuality. But what does it mean to be linked to the cactus? It means that you are protected by the cactus, which is the name of the painting and the name of the poem. But what a fun image. Makes me smile and that is good. I like prickly pear cactus – I think they are beautiful when in flower and with the tunas. And I even like the thorns of the prickly pear which are just part of the reality of the South Texas brush, a place where you best take care and walk carefully, beautiful but harsh, unforgiving. Look at those thorns that Isabelle has painted – certainly offering protection to anything behind them. I could not pass this opportunity up, even though the inventory of bird paintings is building. I got an email asking if we were out of birds and the answer is not yet -- we will have new birds in the upcoming days, and I have a few I am still holding back for the right inspiration. The muse is fickle – bringing easy poems one day, and then being totally uncooperative the next day. So I want you to wish for the muse to descend on the poet over this long weekend. Think – muse find Jim, muse find Jim. If you all think it, it will happen. So when you read this, just stop and focus on those words – muse find Jim, muse find Jim. That is the exercise for the campers today. Make it happen. I will work on receiving and you work on sending and let’s get that old muse working for us. And Covid may be having a resurgence this weekend so by all means be careful. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 166
September 3, 2020 Hello, it’s Day 166 and I’m here once again, your friendly camp counselor. I am smiling today with all the responses I got to our overnight, two-parter trip which seemed to be well received. I am gratified by those who wrote to share experiences similar to the one I described – an experience that led them to put down their guns and take up the glasses and move on to a more general appreciation of nature. I am also interested that this experience seems more widespread than I knew, particularly since I had never talked to anyone before writing that poem about that experience or heard anyone talk about their similar experience, and interestingly, I heard from both men and women about those experiences. Today our investigation of nature takes us to the generic snake – no particular one – just a generic red snake sent over by Isabelle who was venting about our federal leadership. The topic of snakes brings up many different images. I was just sent a photo a dead rattlesnake that was killed by a friend when she encountered it in her garage down on Galveston Island, likely pushed from the dunes by the high water from Laura. And then there is the story my dad told me about a deer hunt he was on in South Texas where he and another man were walking through the brush and observed an indigo snake that was racing back and forth around the bottom of a pack rat mound when they looked up and saw that a rattler was coiled on top of the mound. As he relates the story, they wished that they had not disrupted the scene because the indigo was clearly after the rattlesnake, and would likely have killed it. I would have liked to have seen that although some of the stories about rattlers in South Texas make me glad there are things called snake boots and/or chaps. I cannot imagine the horror faced by illegal immigrants walking through the brush country attempting to come into the United States as so many do. At any rate, enjoy my tribute to snakes in general and thank you for all of the wonderful responses to the Jacana and the Whitewing (parts I and II). And be safe. We still haven’t got this virus figured out. I started to go into the virus in the snake poem, but decided snakes deserved better and I took the poem another direction. Take care. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 165
September 2, 2020 Well, Day 165 and we are on an overnight trip for the campers. Did you sleep well? And isn’t it exciting – not knowing what Part II will bring. I know you are all on the edge of your seats, but you are going to need to wait a minute unless you jump over this writing to the continuation. I would like to know if you enjoyed this two-parter. It was certainly different to write and think about, but there needs to be that coincidence of bird paintings and poem ideas. This one worked out because Isabelle – out of the blue – sent me the jacana which is a bird I really like but was not really thinking about. I had been saving the white winged dove and this particular trip for the right occasion – I had written a few whitewing poems that just didn’t cut it (and a shout out to Ann Hamilton who reads and advises me on poem quality) and I was stymied when the jacana arrived and the ideas emerged relatively quickly. It was synchrony – almost as if pre-ordained that this poem would come out at this time, if, of course, one believed such things. 😊 And as my friend Peter Rowe likes to say, “Blackburn – I love it when a plan comes together.” And this one came together and I will take the liberty of calling it a plan. More generally, I want to brag about the white winged dove, another migrant from South Texas that has really exploded its range up the coast and across Texas. I can remember when you never saw whitewings very far north of the border and that has certainly changed these days. I watched flight after flight go over my home near Rice University in Houston one year and thought that I was seeing more whitewings than on some of my Valley and Mexico hunting trips – hunts that were all about being young and being outdoors with like-minded friends that knew how to handle themselves and were proud of it. Pride figures in this two-parter which I will now continue. And of course, be safe out there. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 164
September 1, 2020 Good morning campers. Today we are going to fly by private plane down into Mexico – an adventure of a different sort. And this will be a two-part poem-story – Part 1 will be Day 164 – today - to be continued to Part 2 on Day 165. This poem tells a true story about a trip that led to great changes within the person who writes these poems – changes caused by a collision of cultures and thinking, changes arising around personal definition. I believe that one aspect of change is that we need to be ready to receive the message to change – so readiness is one aspect of change. Another is the clarity of the message. And yet another is looking at one’s self in the mirror and not really liking the person looking back. And when all three come at one time, watch out. Tremendous change is possible, and that is what happened to me on this adventure that we will be taking together. So buckle your seat belts. We take off in single and double engine private prop-planes from the Valley and go over the border and set down at Reynosa to clear Mexican customs, and then we are back airborne to fly south a bit inland from the Gulf to Ciudad Victoria airport just east of the Sierra Madre Oriental mountains and northeast of Ciudad Mante, one of the most beautiful places on Earth. This part of Mexico is a birder’s place and a hunter’s place, a place of parrots and parakeets in the mountains and doves and ducks and geese on the coastal plain which was our destination on this trip which occurred long before the cartels were prominent. And back here in current time in the U.S. - don’t forget to be safe out there. Covid lurks and still has a bite. By the way, it you wanted to hear and see my presentation on This Place Called Houston, here is a link to the recording. https://glasscock-info.rice.edu/openrice/this-place-called-houston. And if you want to see the climate change presentation I made to Urban Harvest about a month ago, here is the link. https://youtu.be/ZGbIt6KpPqo. Take care. Blackburn | ||
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DAY 163
August 31, 2020 Hello again campers. Our subjects for today’s sunrise discussion end up being appreciation and gratefulness, and I will admit to needing to be be reminded of both as I considered today’s poem. Our bird of the day – the rock pigeon – is part of the lesson, a bird that is around us, a bird domesticated over 5000 years ago, a bird that came to the U.S. around 1600, a bird so common around the world that its place of origin is unclear. Isabelle wrote about the pigeon when she sent me the image, and she said that she painted it because in busy places children loved to feed them, and the pigeon was fun to paint. Now how could I turn my nose up at such a request? But what to write? I see them all the time, but had never really thought much about them, except maybe when I noticed a hawk cruising hungrily past them. But the more I have considered this, the more that it is clear that the pigeon has a lot to say about Earth Church – that living and staying alive are the keys, and the Earth is the only place where we have a chance to live and thrive. When I graduated from high school, I was given a book by John-Paul Sartre about existentialism by one of my mother’s friends. I thought it was a strange gift, and my mother rolled her eyes and made some under-her-breath comment about her friend, but it made an impression. I am not sure I understood it, but I recently looked up existentialism and it seems to be about living life on one’s own terms, about finding a rational course in an irrational world, about existing, about being. In a way, perhaps the pigeon defines existentialism. Earth Church is about existing – about supporting it in all living things, about aiding and abetting it – about appreciating it. Since I wrote this poem about ten days ago, I have smiled every time I have passed under a freeway and seen a flock of pigeons. Now that has to be a good thing. Be safe out there and work on your appreciation of pigeons. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 162
August 30, 2020 Well hello again. Day 162 – the beginning of our 24th week of this vigil. I am beginning to feel a bit like a space probe heading out into the universe, taking in information and data, collecting energy from the sun, moving on yet not knowing where it will end. These days – this vigil - sometimes feels a bit unhinged, a word that might sum up the year 2020, and we have not even reached the dramatic high point – the elections in November. I must say I am very concerned about how these elections will come off. I have never thought before about an election where voters may have trouble actually casting ballots, but with Covid and all the controversy about elections being stolen, this is not good. I grew up being proud of this country but we are heading in the wrong direction in my opinion. When one point of view tries to suppress and keep others from being expressed, that is the type of government abuse that led to the Declaration of Independence and the American Revolution. There are some actions that should not be acceptable regardless of whether you consider yourself a democrat or a republican or an independent or whatever. From what I am hearing, there is a substantial behind-the-scenes fight going on between Harris County and the state over voting processes, locations, etc. Keep your eyes and ears open. We cannot allow our right to vote to be compromised. And to get our minds off of negative vibes from politics and politicians, let’s go visit a wonderful sanctuary of Earth Church down the coast in Rockport, a place of birds and not far from a great eco-tourism destination – the Fennessey Ranch which caters to people looking to experience nature. The ranch is located on the Mission River near Copano Bay. It is a wonderful place for a day trip from Rockport. Maybe we can all be enjoying these activities again with friends after the first of the year, if we are lucky and vigilant. Be safe. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 161
August 29, 2020 Hello all. It is Day 161, and we are on the other side of Laura, but Covid’s still with us. Today our topic is change. Boz Scaggs, one of my favorite performers, has a song called “Some Change”. Consider these opening lines from the title song: “Some change comes down for the better, You feel it move, Then some come around like the weather, You take that in too, But like some change in your pocket, Sometimes it seems to be too little too late.” I like those words for they depict the chameleon-like ways of change – it comes in many ways and with many appearances. So here’s a change story for you readers out there with whom Isabelle and I are so wonderfully connected. With Laura and the concern about surge, interest in the protection of the Houston Ship Channel has gone up significantly, and I am reminded of another situation that I was involved with that brought amazing change. I was hired to oppose a nuclear power plant proposed to be constructed down the coast near Victoria. The case was made before the Nuclear Regulatory Commission and I signed up as an attorney for intervening parties opposing the construction of the plant. We filed several motions which I thought were very good, and all of which were denied before a hearing was set in Victoria for a Tuesday in March, 2011. Well, fate intervened, and the weekend before the hearing, the Fukushima disaster occurred in Japan. The change generated by that tragedy was amazing to experience. Every major television outlet nationally descended on the hearing in Victoria, and at the hearing, the motions that had previously been denied were resurrected and reconsidered. The bottom line – the Nuclear Regulatory Commission had taken the position that certain events were too remote to be considered in permitting, and that position changed – the hubris of the nuclear industry and regulators caught up with them, and the company ended up withdrawing the permit to build the facility. The point here is that change occurred very quickly in this situation, due at least in part to a disaster. Change and circumstance – Laura’s come and gone – we got fortunate here on the Texas coast, but maybe we can get some much-needed attention to our industries’ vulnerability to surge. On Thursday night of this week, I wrote an op ed about Laura and the vulnerability of our chemical and refining industry, and it has been published today in the New York Times. I hope to have it posted on my website later today and will send a link to it tomorrow assuming we get it posted. Change - can you feel it? Take care and be safe. Appropriate of many things, today’s painting is titled “Pulling Change” by Isabelle which I also claimed as the name of my poem. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 160
August 28, 2020 Hello all. Today is day 160 and our artist Isabelle is on her game today with a murmuration of starlings. Yes – a new word for most of us. A murmuration is a flock but also is used to refer to the flight of many birds in a pattern that paints the sky. It was once thought that the birds used psychic powers to pull off this feat, but it has since been subjected to computer modeling and replicated by simple rules such as the closest birds moving apart, others realigning and the birds further out moving inward. Starling murmurations are best known in Europe where it is said that murmurations can be seen from Newcastle to Naples in the winter. To learn more about local starling behavior, I consulted Lalise Mason, an expert birder and friend, who said that we have murmurations here on the Texas coast during the winter near dusk (and also in the Panhandle), but that they were generally mixed flocks of blackbirds and cowbirds that can include starlings. According to Lalise, you can hear the different blackbird calls and identify those in the flock. So – it is on my list to go out on the prairie this winter and see a murmuration of blackbirds and to hopefully be with someone who can distinguish the calls. In the meantime, we can thank our artist Isabelle who has really been on her game lately, coming up with new image after new image – paintings that send energy from her head and hands to my head and hands – energy to aid me developing the words to do justice to what she has depicted. That has been particularly true with the paintings that are not bird portraits, but even with those more recently such as today. I find it amazing that we continue to have our own synchrony between the two of us which continues to be stimulating and challenging. So, here’s a tip of my hat and a message of appreciation back to the artist. Thanks Isabelle. And now on to the poem and your job for today which is to stay safe and avoid Covid. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 159
August 27, 2020 My oh my. I have been researching hurricanes since 2009, the year after Ike, and Laura is what we all have been concerned about – a storm that appears kind of run of the mill and then explodes into a Category 4 storm and barrels into our refining and chemical complex, except that thankfully this one is not headed to Houston. The Houston Ship Channel is the largest exposed asset of the United States and if Laura had come ashore on the south end of Galveston Island, we possibly would be looking at the worst environmental disaster in United States history if the surge developed as feared (which is not clear that it did). The Corps’ coastal spine project down along the coast would not be tall enough to stop the projected 20’ surge from Laura because they are limited to designing for a project storm which is about a category 2 storm. That is why we at the SSPEED Center at Rice have proposed a in-bay dike and recreation solution called the Galveston Bay Park Plan which this month was selected as a winner of the regional vision for the future of Houston competition. I am proud to be a part of that award-winning team, but it is hard to get any consensus and any action. But I will continue to try because my church called Galveston Bay is in grave danger. I hope that Sabine Lake and Calcasieu Lake survive without major chemical or oil spills, but frankly, I would be surprised if there aren’t several serious incidents with this type of storm. So, let’s move on to today’s poem, which goes back to reincarnation, mainly because it is so much fun and I need some fun in my life right now. So I hope you enjoy the spirit with which this poem is offered. And watch out for Covid. It is still around. And don’t forget, you can join me for a FREE lecture about “This Place Called Houston” offered through Rice University Continuing Studies, August 28th, that is tomorrow, from 12 to 1 p.m. You can register for FREE through this link. https://glasscock-info.rice.edu/openrice/this-place-called-houston. If you follow the link, you will find one of our virus vigil Isabelle Chapman images and description of this course. Among other things, I will be talking about hurricanes as you might imagine. Be safe. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 158
August 26, 2020 “Well hello there. My It’s been a long long time.” Day 158 and I’m stealing material from Jimmy Vaughan who wrote Ain’t It Funny How Time Slips Away. Well, these days have been slip-sliding away, and they just keep marching on. First day of class was survived just fine, a bit like going to the grocery store – lots of seats in a big old chemistry lecture hall with only about 20 students scattered around a 120 seat auditorium with another 30 or so on Zoom watching. I did get reprimanded by the Zoom attendees for walking behind the podium as the camera did not follow me so I had to work at keeping myself in one place. And the equipment worked with some tweaks, but it is kinda weird to have half of the audience live and the other half watching you on a screen. But then – everything about 2020 has been kinda weird so far. Strange year. Tough year. And now we have Laura to watch carefully – she still could slip-slide a bit further west and pull the Houston region into its sphere of serious influence. I don’t think our governments – state, federal or local – get it yet that we need to think in a more transformative way about flooding and storms. It seems that our thinking is that we will solve the problems of flooding in Houston with more money being thrown at the old solutions and I think that will help on the small storms but do nothing to help when the big storms come, and the big storms are coming. While Laura is nothing to fool with, she is not the big storm I am most concerned about. She may be a Cat 3 at landfall but it is the Cat 4 and 5 storms that give me the heebie-jeebies (technical term in case you are not on the inside of storm management circles). And as for today’s poem, Isabelle sent me this image which I have interpreted as both a human hand and a feathered hand. She titled this one “We Are All Connected” but I have titled my poem about this painting simply as “Help”. Be safe out there and enjoy the poem and Isabelle’s lovely art. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 157
August 25, 2020 Day 157 of this virus vigil and still kicking along. My artist has done another new painting today about a Cypress Tree next to a river – a scene I asked her to paint because of an idea I received from one of you responding to the reincarnation discussion. She said she didn’t think much about this painting before she painted it – it just came. I like this. Now back to the Cypress and reincarnation. This person wrote of the Tule Tree in Oaxaca, a 2000 year old Montezuma Cypress, a tree with the name Ahuahuetes, which means “old man of the water” in Nahuatl. This person wanted to return as a bald cypress on the Blanco river, and I love that image, but even more, I loved the concept of the “old man of the water”. I think that is such a perfect description of the cypress, particularly some of those on the Hill Country rivers like the Blanco where unfortunately many were destroyed in the great flood of a few years back. But for these majestic “old men and old women (Cypress are both)” to survive, our rivers need water, which we are going to have to fight for over time. Earth Church is about caring and about stewardship but it is also about standing up for what is right, what is necessary, for life in its many forms. So enjoy this tribute to the old man of the water. And as you will see, I work in the first of what I hope to be several references/discussions about the work of Aldo Leopold, perhaps the best environmental writer. And in this poem, you also have a bit of Blackburn family history related to me by my dad who told stories about his grandmother talking about the Comanches that she saw riding along the San Antonio River at Goliad – Comanches that were riding on their painted ponies – and as she told it, they could really ride. And by all means, keep your eyes on the Gulf. I have just heard that Jefferson County is being ordered to evacuate this morning and that hurricane surge could be a factor, a conclusion I agree with given the large continental shelf and the path of Laura which sweeps water along the coast as it moves northwest from Cuba. As the maps on TV keep showing, the Gulf water is really hot and the storm could intensify quickly with all that hot-water fuel. So be careful – Laura could turn into the real deal. And of course, Covid still lurks. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 156
August 24, 2020 Hello campers. If you live here on the Gulf coast, I hope you are keeping track of Laura and Marco. This will be a very unique event to have two storms in the Gulf at the same time, potentially making landfall quite near each other and only a day or two apart. I will be watching with a mix of interest and horror. As you may recall, I am the co-director of the Severe Storm Center at Rice and received a media alert from the Rice public affairs department about this upcoming two-storm event. The inquiry asked if anyone could speak to the Fujiwhara effect which is, according to Jade Boyd, one of our excellent media folks at Rice, “an effect that occurs when two storms are near enough to become attracted and enter a binary state where they act as one, spinning counterclockwise (cyclonically) like a pair of dancers. Just like dancers, they would orbit a midpoint somewhere between them, but this midpoint could also be moving as they twirl across the dance floor, or waltz across the Gulf in this case.” I had never heard of this effect before Jade’s inquiry, but what an interesting metaphysical concept, like paired galaxies, or paired souls, dancing around a center point between them. Wow. I know that some of you are doubtful if not dismissive about the metaphysical, and I get that, but then I encounter some natural concepts or phenomena that physically occur, like the carbon and water cycles, like the cyclical nature of the bird migrations, like the moon orbiting the Earth or the Earth orbiting the sun, like the clockwise and counterclockwise movement of high and low pressure systems, and they make me feel secure in thinking there are many other forces and cycles that we don’t even begin to understand. So I stand in awe of nature and of things that I cannot describe or necessarily defend in the way that science requires proof, but as I plan to get into later this week, Aldo Leopold who wrote A Sand County Almanac was convinced that the reductionist thinking of science often missed important and self-evident truths, such as the song of the river or, in my own terms, “The Earth is, therefore I am”. But if we am to continue to be, we must watch out for the virus as well as these two storms. Be safe. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 155
August 23, 2020 Greetings. It is Day 155 and the virus is on the decline for now, although Rice starts next week as do many other schools and I imagine there will be an uptick in cases again. I have 50 students and several are writing to say that they are attending this semester totally online, choosing to stay at home. I will be interested to see how many end up choosing not to come to class. I will be interested in seeing if Rice stays open for the full semester. And I am hoping I am up to the technological challenges that come with teaching a “hybrid” class with half of the students live and the other half online, with attendance varying from Tuesday to Thursday and back again. So wish me luck. Today I am bringing you the Black Bellied Whistling Duck, a fascinating duck that has been expanding its range northward. I can remember seeing this duck at a couple of ponds I used to hunt down in the Valley and then remember most vividly being on field trip for a project we were working on at the Rice Center for Community Design in the mid-1970s called The Texas Gulf Coast Project, a project that really got me interested in the Texas coast. I was traveling in a van with several Rice profs who were excellent professionals and neat people and I saw some black bellied tree ducks on a pond in the King Ranch and called the sighting out to our group, leading me to be referred to as the naturalist, a label this young man wore proudly. It was also on the same trip that we had been collecting specimens of plants all the way down south from Houston and then went to Matamoros to eat supper and when we came back across the border, they asked if we had any plant material and our ecologist volunteered that we had many specimens of grass in vegetation presses in the back. Well – we got to pull over and have a rather intense border patrol review of our specimens. But that was a time when the border was a kinder, gentler place than it is now. Enjoy the image of the Black Bellied Whistling Duck, of which there are two versions. The larger blow up is a more recent image and the smaller thumbnail is an older one, and they are both very nice. And be safe out there. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 154
August 22, 2020 Hello campers. Well – weird happenings in the Caribbean and maybe two storms heading our way. They say the last time this happened was back in the 1930s and those two storms struck at opposite ends in Texas and Florida. These two storms might come close together for their respective landfalls. So pay attention please. In an effort to take our minds elsewhere, I am introducing you to an Isabelle masterpiece, the Hooded Merganser, a beautiful diving duck that I first saw in a wetland pond in Oregon where I attended a land air and water (LAW) conference at Oregon Law School maybe thirty years ago, at the height of environmental activism. I was talking about environmental problems on the Texas Gulf Coast and was on the same program with a wonderful investigator named Willie Fontenot from the Louisiana Attorney General’s office. I had never seen such a collection of environmental activists at one place – there was Sea Shepherd, Greenpeace, animal rights activists facing criminal charges but the one I remember most was a woman from India named Vandana Shiva who blew me away. She was articulate, sharp with a biting sense of humor and irony, a fabulous speaker who mesmerized the audience. After that meeting, I went on a personal exploratory journey, reading a lot of very good, environmental books and books about discovery – A Sand County Almanac, Silent Spring, Conversations with the Archdruid, The Monkey Wrench Gang, The Chalice and the Blade, The Power of Myth – books that set me on the path that led to where I am today – my own path, one that was different from those who were the superstars at that conference for the needs I faced and my personal style were different - a path informed by that exposure and by the passion and warmth of people interested in environment from all over the world. So when I see the Hooded Merganser, I see more than a bird – I see a signpost for the path to where I am today. And now, back to the virus which is our reason for this artistic effort, and that reason is to connect and to remind you to be safe out there. We may be facing some serious challenges in the Houston and possibly New Orleans area over the next week. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 153
August 21, 2020 Well campers. It might be getting wet here at Camp Hideaway. Looks like a tropical system might be visiting us early next week. If it is fast-moving, it likely won’t drop too much rain but if it slows down, watch out. Thinking about storms and rainfall makes me remember Don Greene, the canoe and rafting whitewater guide that led us on many great trips on the Pecos and the Rio Grande as well as down Buffalo Bayou. Don once had us over at his home which is now the location of the Don Greene Nature Park, a lovely little park maintained by Harris County with the assistance of Friends of Don Greene, an excellent group of stewards overseeing this wonderful little pocket park on Cypress St west of Bellaire. On this evening spent outdoors, Don had a man make a presentation to us about storms – about predicting rainfall amounts, and he gave us a very simple formula. Divide the forward speed of the storm into 100 and the result is the number of inches of rain. So – a storm moving inland at 10 mph will drop 10 inches. 5 miles per hour and you get 20 inches. When I looked at the information on the storm slated to head our direction, it was moving west at 21 mph. At that rate, 5 inches of rain, although it will likely slow down as it crosses the Yucatan and then all of us should watch it very carefully when it gets into the Bay of Campeche and the Gulf of Mexico. Harvey almost died out over the Yucatan and hit the hot waters of the Bay of Campeche and almost overnight became a Category 4 hurricane. There is no indication that this storm will develop in the same way – there is supposedly strong wind shear that works against storm formation – but keep a good eye out. We will likely see a bit of rain. And stay safe out there. Covid lurks. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 152
August 20, 2020 Back again. Hello campers. We are definitely having a road trip back to the Pecos River this morning. I have to say – the canoe and raft trips that Garland and I have taken with friends offer wonderful material for poems and for love of life. The outdoors are really special. I heard from someone yesterday that they were at Smith Point over in Chambers County (the point that sticks out into the bay) and saw hundreds of Mississippi Kites and three swallow-tailed kites. They said it was marvelous. If you don’t get outside, you will not see a lot of what is going on these days. And now as to my question to you regarding extrasensory perceptions – I have to say the responses were less than I had hoped for, but there were some that were quite interesting. Some of you talked about being joined by others that were not really there on important hikes like a major mountain climb. But there was one that went way beyond my expectations and it involved me in a real-time event that I have incorporated into today’s poem about the Black Phoebe, a wonderful bird of the desert. After you read the poem and understand what happened, write me back and tell me if you think that the experience that occurred two days ago between me and a friend who read and responded to my ask would be considered – by you - as an extrasensory experience? The poem is describing an event from the Pecos River but it also describes, near the end, a more recent event. I am really asking if the more recent event qualifies – in your mind – as extrasensory? But back to the outdoors – as the weather begins to cool – and it will – take advantage of it. Get out with nature. Celebrate by going to attend services at Earth Church. To tie into the river of migrating birds is truly magical. Just do it. And certainly be safe out there for that multi-colored virus is out stalking us, riding on the breath of those without masks. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 151
August 19, 2020 Greetings. It’s Day 151. We are much further than I ever wanted to go, yet here we are and today we are going to look the devil in the eye, so say hi to the novel coronavirus (severe acute respiratory syndrome coronavirus 2 (SARS-CoV-2)) that causes the disease COVID-19. Our artist Isabelle Chapman outdid herself here in the presentation of this pestilence, making it appear as the charlatan I believe it to be. What a magician that virus is – causing symptoms in some, simply using others as carriers. Brilliant strategy. Isabelle described her work in an email to me. These are her words. “Here is my idea of the virus. I used all different colors because I didn’t want one color to get a bad rap and because there are a few good things about this time. Good for me because I don’t have to make excuses for things I don’t want to do, more time in my studio and time to think. Of course tons of bad stuff. The little crack with gold around it on the edge is where the answers/vaccinations get in... as Leonard Cohen says “there is a crack in everything where the light come in”.”. So there you have it – the official word from the artist. As for my words, I’ll let the poem speak for itself, with thanks to the Rolling Stones for the general concept and for the first line of the poem. And of course, be safe out there. Blackburn | ||
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DAY 150
August 18, 2020 Hello campers. On Day 150, we are going to visit the metaphysical portion of the campground reserved for our more open-minded campers. Are you open to an extrasensory experience? Do you believe they occur? Have such experiences ever occurred to you? If so, write and tell me about it. I enjoyed hearing from you on your reincarnation wish list, but now I am asking – have you experienced something unique, something seemingly beyond self? I know that I have experienced things that are hard to explain. One of my clients was consulting a bruja in Mexico about a case we were working on and I found it strangely comforting that we were summoning the supernatural, and we did well. I can remember going to the big Fiesta food store in southwest Houston as a young lawyer and buying candles with various types of good luck promised, but that did not deliver like the bruja did. I can remember feeling a bump coming into my consciousness and remember having a clarity of thought about philosophical issues that I had not previously had, as if some available life energy joined with me. I don’t know what it was, but it was nice. So today, with a beautiful desert bird – the pyrrhuloxia – we’ll stick our toe in and see if we are enjoying this area of the campground and maybe visit again. Now to the real - I want to announce a FREE lecture that I am giving about “This Place Called Houston”, a presentation about place – a key concept for cities and people in the future, a key concept that I’ve discussed during the virus vigil. This will be very different from the presentation that Isabelle and I did for the Women’s Institute. This is more the origins of the City of Houston, our current problems and the opportunities that we have for success in the future using those assets that we have – our assets of place. Come and join me for this FREE lecture offered through Rice University Continuing Studies, August 28th, from 12 to 1 p.m. You can register for FREE through this link. https://glasscock-info.rice.edu/openrice/this-place-called-houston. If you follow the link, you will find one of our virus vigil Isabelle Chapman images and description of this course. And be safe out there. The virus is on its game. You need to be as well. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 149
August 17, 2020 Hello campers. Day 149. We’re back after a few days of reincarnation work, and today we are returning to the migratory river and visiting the beautiful freshwater prairie ponds east of Houston and east and south of Anahuac along the northern shore of East Bay. This is the part of the world where we met the glossy ibis early in this vigil and more recently the purple gallinule, but this is one of THE places for ducks during the fall, winter and early spring. In a wet year, there will be a large population of all types of ducks but one of the most majestic is the pintail. For many years I hunted pintails in South Texas, but as I said in the poem about the snow goose, I put my shotgun down many years ago. However, I do remember hunting with my Uncle Bun who lived in Port Neches over near Beaumont, my mother’s brother who was one of my hunting and fishing coaches. One time we walked into the Jefferson County marsh for about three miles or so when I was probably 13 or 14 – a long hard slog if you have not done it, carrying our gear, wearing waders. We got to a place he though was about right and taught me to make a blind of marsh hay cordgrass, and we threw out the dozen decoys we had brought in with us - soft plastic blow up decoys that were easier to carry than the big formed ones. And I remember that it was a slow day until about midmorning when the birds started returning to the marsh from the fields. There was one flock of pintails that stood out from all others – they were flying high and passed over us and my uncle told me to watch - that our decoys had caught their eye, and they circled over us three or four times, getting closer each pass until they set their wings and came in. What I remember most was being mesmerized by their beauty, by their elegance, by their presence. What I wish to do is to spend time in a blind this coming fall with decoys and with a guide that knows how to call and just watch the ducks come in and set their wings and join with us, no hunting, just watching. It is hard to get really great views of ducks coming in to land that is similar to what you get when you are hunting. And writing this, I am resolved that this is what I am going to do this winter, assuming the virus does not interfere, and it won’t if I stay safe which I also urge you to do. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 148
August 16, 2020 Hello campers. Well – great response to the reincarnation game. Overall Isabelle and I received over 70 responses with about 50 or so different reincarnation preferences with several of you voting for the same preference. The writing today will be short because this poem is much longer – full of great thoughts and ideas sent by you when sending your preferences. The general ideas are yours and the rhyme is me in most cases except for the catbird. The variety and the concepts and thoughts are wonderful Thank you all for participating and be safe out there. And today’s image is of the unity of humans and nature, the shared spirit against the cycle of the sun and mother water. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 147
August 15, 2020 Hello, hello, hello – Camp Hideaway is full of game players. I have had many participants in our reincarnation game so far, and I want all of you who have not participated to send in your selection of what bird, mammal, reptile, tree, amphibian, plant, etc that you would like to return as when you are reincarnated. So, to give you all a chance to participate, I am continuing the game for one more day. If you have not responded, please do. Now – you don’t have to believe to play the game – if you play you are not admitting belief, so go ahead, do something silly and have fun. Go ahead and admit to your wildest reincarnation scene. Some of the explanations as to why various living things were selected are really neat and I will try to share many of these tomorrow when I am going to see if I can weave some of these explanations into a poem. We’ll see if that happens or not. It also has been interesting to me to see and experience the enthusiasm that some of you have for the concept of reincarnation. So for today’s bird, we have the Great Kiskadee, a bird of South Texas that wanders further up the coast every now and then but whose range covers almost all of South America as well as portions of Mexico and Central America. And it’s call – wow – that bird can be really loud. It is a beautiful yellow and black presence with a big personality. Neat bird. So, enjoy the kiskadee and today’s poem about reincarnation, a topic I will continue for at least one more day and likely revisit again and again. And be safe out there. I think I heard that in Texas, we have passed 10,000 deaths. That is a sobering number. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 146
August 14, 2020 Hello campers, today we are waking up to Day 146 and today’s topic is reincarnation. Today’s painting was titled “Fly In Dreams” by our artist Isabella, but I am confiscating this image to convey the concept of reincarnation which according to Wikipedia is the movement of the non-physical essence of each of us to begin a new life in a different physical form – to return to Earth as a different type of living thing. And in this painting, I see the white bird carrying the non-physical essence to its new resting place in the cosmos that to my mind is limited to Earth as the only planet in the universe known to support various physical forms of life. Assuming there are life forms in different universes, I guess there is no theoretical limit to the reach of essence cycling, but it seems logical that it would be restricted to Earth, so for the attached poem, reincarnation is considered as an Earth phenomenon and an element of Earth Church. Now this being Camp Hideaway, we are going to play a camp game today. I want those of you who want to play this game to send me what life form you would like to become when you are reincarnated. Human is not a choice. We have been focused on birds in this vigil so a type of bird is a logical choice, but you can be anything you wish. So, what would you like to be? I have already heard that one good friend wants to be a whooping crane and another a brown pelican and Garland wants to be a hummingbird (to be able to fly backwards). Have fun with this and send me your suggestion. We’ll see if there are any consensus top choices, and I will certainly report any particularly creative or perhaps intriguing concepts. So, enjoy today’s game, be safe out there and come and fly with me and the white bird. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 145
August 13, 2020 Day 145 and the virus vigil continues. It seems clear that until a vaccine is developed, this virus will continue to be the dominant force in our daily lives. So once again I reach out across this social distancing void and welcome you to Camp Hideaway’s road trip to Port Mansfield to go fishing. Going south out of Houston , we pick up a sandwich around El Campo, and start getting excited as we pass through Victoria where the ecology changes to South Texas brush, and then we cross the Nueces River, the last major river system until the Rio Grande and the Mexican border about a hundred and twenty-five or so miles further south. We pass Kingsville and Rivera and cross the King Ranch, the wonderful open space reserve that is pure magic for the birds and bunnies, an area without gas stations or many people. And then we reach Raymondville, the northernmost city on the eastern side of the Rio Grande Valley. Here we turn east and head toward the Laguna Madre, driving through plowed fields until we again encounter brush. And then the tour bus driver pulls over and we all look up at the telephone wires ahead where three hawks are gathered atop a telephone pole, an unusual site because hawks aren’t often seen with more than one or two birds together except during migration, but these are Harris Hawks, one of the most interesting of the hawks of Texas, and our tour bus operator is excited to have such a good view. He urges us all to get out and stretch our legs for a moment, passing binoculars around to those without their own to take in this wonderful bird. And then the scene depicted in the poem unfolds. After that, we proceed to Port Mansfield and fishing. I can’t tell you much about our fishing trip other than I want to go back and do it again, but it is the Harris Hawk that fills my memory cells. So today, enjoy visiting the Harris Hawk and Earth Church’s view on reincarnation, a wonderful concept that I will be writing more about in coming vigils. Be safe out there. Blackburn | ||
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DAY 144
August 12, 2020 Hello campers. Another road trip is on the schedule for today except this one involves time travel back to 1957 in the Rio Grande Valley – you all joining me and my dad who is in his late 30’s and very much alive, smilin’ and drivin’ and smoking Winston cigarettes early in the morning, before daylight, the radio playing KTSA San Antonio with the mix of rhythm and blues and country that was the origin of rock’n’roll, – tunes from the likes of Elvis and Patsy, Johnny and Jerry Lee, the car lights lighting up the dark, dirt road crossed by cottontail rabbits and from which several birds jumped up out of the dust, mere shadows before the lights. Come back to this point in time when life seemed so simple, so straightforward, which of course it was not, my Dad hiring the first Hispanic man to sell seeds in South Texas and losing clients because of it, notwithstanding that the man was excellent, times such as when my Dad, being the good Baptist, brought a Hispanic man to the Harlingen First Baptist Church, only to be told by the pastor that the man belonged in the mission across town. Today we go back in time with me and my dad, a good man – a man I miss. And by the way, don’t forget that we are camping out together because of that virus for which we are watching – ever watching. Be safe. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 143
August 11, 2020 Hello, it’s Day 143. I feel like I am living that song by Queen “And Another One Bites the Dust”. And another one, and another one, and yet another day in this social distancing purgatory of no hugs and separation, so hello for the 143rd time. Today another road trip, this time to Midland, Texas, and the oil fields of West Texas. This trip I am recounting occurred in the 1980s when I was a very ‘green’ lawyer, investigating salt water contamination across thousands of acres of land that did not need the insult of saltwater on top of the natural constraints to vegetative growth that is the West Texas desert. The lady in the poem is Midge Irskine, a wonderful environmentalist in a tough place for environmental sensitivities. Getting to know her a bit was a wonderful part of my education as an environmental lawyer which had a lot less to do with the law and a lot more to do with understanding the reality of environmental law, Texas-style. I may have related this once before but I had a water commissioner during the 1980s also tell me that I brought more issues to the Texas Water Commission that they were unwilling to address than any lawyer in Texas. And that was, in part, because I got to meet and understand characters like Midge Irskine. Enjoy meeting Midge who was a true priest of Earth Church and a lovely human being. And be safe out there. We need not lose any campers. Blackburn. | ||
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Day 142
August 10, 2020 Today is Day 142 at Camp Hideaway, and we’re going on another road trip, this one a day trip to Anahuac National Wildlife Refuge east of Houston. Today I am writing about the fog and spirituality, a link that seems to always reach up and grab me. Fog is mysterious, enveloping, embracing. We usually consider it a hassle, and seldom stop to let it simply be with us. I enjoy those moments which are relatively rare, but penetrating and important. Today’s trip is to the Anahuac National Wildlife Refuge east of Houston in Chambers County bordering the north shore of East Bay. When you enter the refuge, there is a loop road around Shoveler Pond which is to the right at the reception area. Go there in the summer for a chance to see today’s bird, the Purple Gallinule, as well as alligators (usually out on sunny days) or go in November and have excellent views of ducks and geese. It’s a great outing. You can travel with friends – each of you in your own car – and talk to each other by the blue tooth connection on your cell phones. And while not a preferred manner of birdwatching, birding by blue tooth is a way to enjoy birding with friends while keeping Mr. Virus away. Enjoy today’s poem and a nice Isabelle image and be safe. Blackburn | ||
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DAY 141
August 9, 2020 Well, hello campers, we are waking up to Day 141. Are you getting tired of camp yet? Well, don’t blame your camp counselors - the artist and the poet. We are simply here to try to alleviate a little loneliness across this social-distancing chasm. We should be much better off today than we are – not necessarily Covid-free, but much better off. In the meantime, I want to follow-up with our tree theme. We have an artist who loves to paint trees as well as hands and hearts and birds. Today our painting is a lovely hand that I was sent and given the opportunity to write a poem about so that you campers would have some writing to go with this beautiful image by Isabelle. So, I started off trying to do something about fingernails, and hands, and it wasn’t working, and then I wrote the poem for the nutrition tree from yesterday and Saturday morning the idea just popped into my head that my writing should be about appreciating – perhaps even loving – trees. Well what is a person who loves trees? Why of course – a treehugger, a name I have been called in the past with the intent of insult. Once that concept landed in my head, this poem almost wrote itself. Just really quick. Nice when that happens. But it wasn’t spontaneous on seeing the image – it was the image, plus another, plus the love I am feeling for all of us caught up in this mess that I call Camp Hideaway – a Camp we are attending because not enough care was taken – not enough love given to all of us by those in charge on many levels. Care for Creation – Earth church – love for fellow humans – love for all regardless of race or color – that is what should drive us. We have a lot of hard work to do moving forward and only through some broad concept of love can we get there. So – let’s start small. Go hug a tree, and be safe – tell your neighbor to find their own tree to hug because you must maintain social distancing. Imagine – we can hug a tree but not each other so make the most of it. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 140
August 8, 2020 Hello once again. I feel like Robin Williams shouting out “Good Morning, Vietnam” and putting on a record. Well, “Good Morning, Campers”, here’s your daily dose of virtual hugs and well wishes, brought to you by Isabella the Painter and Blackburn the Poet. Here’s sending out a bit of Eric Clapton to start your day off, or do you need Jimmy Page or Jack White to stir your bones a bit more? We are back from our road trip out west and are today looking at a tree. Our artist has created the nutrition tree for your enjoyment today. So right now – stop – and go look at a tree outside your front or back door or outside a window. Take it in. And then come back to Isabella’s lovely nutrition tree and think about those two images – one a painting and one the real thing. According to Isabelle, those little squares attached to the roots might symbolize nutrients that the tree brings up, or may perhaps simply indicate the magic that the tree makes, or whatever you think it means, and I decided to put some of my graduate school training from my Rice student days to work for you campers. I took a course called Modeling Mineral Cycles in Forest Ecosystems, and I remember really enjoying learning about forest ecology and trees. After law school (which I did not enjoy), Rice was like a good clear breath to someone who was suffocating. The difference between science and law – wow – I was ready for the science, and now campers, here’s a bit back at you. I hope you enjoy, and take care because the virus is still with us, and we will be in Camp Hideaway a while longer. And give a tree a little love today. It’s our friend and is working for us all. Blackburn | ||
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DAY 139
August 7, 2020 Good morning campers. Day 139 and the tour bus is off and rolling, heading west. Today the bus is heading to Hueco Tanks east of El Paso. I know campers – it’s a long trip but it’s a virus vigil and we’re still nervous about flying and I promise we’ll have plenty of bathroom stops. We’ll take our time on this trip and San Antonio will be our stepping off point. We’ll get some Mexican food, go to the Witte Museum for a bit natural history and then continue west. And what music would you like heading west – some Texas Tornadoes with a Freddy Fender tune? Or maybe some Terry Allen or Joe Ely? And we’ll talk of the Chupacabra, about the native Americans who moved from water source to water source in this increasingly dry landscape, we’ll talk about life and how nice it is to be with friends. And now, we are getting close to Hueco Tanks (this is a fictional trip – very fast). Isabelle our tour artist has drawn up a wonderful bird – the white-throated swift from an absolutely magical moment enjoyed by me and Garland and our friends Sue and Jack on a trip that included Hueco Tanks, Guadalupe Mountains National Park and Carlsberg Caverns in New Mexico, a trip I highly recommend. In the meantime, be safe for you-know-what is still around. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 138
August 6, 2020 Well hello campers. How are you enjoying Camp Hideaway (From the Virus)? And what activities do we have on the agenda for the campers today? Well – there is looking at a wonderful image of a cattle egret (who knew it was so dramatic) by Isabelle. And a lovely poem for your reading pleasure. But most importantly, I am sending all you campers lots of love and good karma from the poet and the artist. We don’t give each other enough warmth – enough affection. How often have you told someone lately that you appreciate them? We should all reach out and connect across the void between us and make an effort to brighten another person’s day which will also brighten your day. So that is the assignment for all campers – reach out and tell someone you care about them – that you are thinking about them. Today’s bird is the Cattle Egret, a semi-tall bird often seen in fields and with cows. It’s a bird I have not paid a lot of attention to – sort of taking it for granted – but Isabelle’s art certainly highlights its best features in rather dramatic fashion. Kudos to Isabelle. Glad you guys are liking the painting going first. I am attaching a short You Tube link to an excerpt about the circular economy from the presentation that I made last Saturday for Urban Harvest. They will also be posting the full video of the presentation in a couple of the weeks and I will make that available for you as well. Here’s the link. https://youtu.be/dgEvUDkE9fI. Well – I must be off to start planning what I am doing for my course this fall. My classes start in three weeks. Wow. That will go fast. It will also intrude on my poem-writing time. In the meantime, be safe. Covid continues to be at the highest levels here in Houston. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 137
August 5, 2020 Hello all. Day 137. It seems you all are liking the new format. Sorry I didn’t think of this sooner. Different machines display this information differently, and my goal is to serve all needs all the time. Well – perhaps I exaggerate, but you get the idea. I just looked at the Covid numbers for Harris County (seven day average) and we are at our highest average yet. It dipped down but is back up so remain careful. And with kids heading back to school, it is going to be quite interesting and challenging. Be vigilant. Now to the birds - I am monitoring the fall migration a bit more closely than I usually do (looking for material) as we move deeper into August. There are certainly some good birds on the way back down. I think about them ending housekeeping up north somewhere and preparing to move on south. I think of the snow geese up on James Bay in the far north, or of the plovers that nest in the Arctic circle around tundra potholes – birds that are already on the way back down. I think about the orioles and tanagers and warblers gathering their young. Can you imagine telling a bunch of kids that we are heading south – we have to eat and drink and find a place to spend the night along the way – no motels, no campers – and we are going to Texas, or Mexico, or Central or South America. And then we are going stay there for several months like our parents and grandparents did before us and then turn around and do it again. Think about the navigation that involves – no Google maps, no paper maps. I worked on a project decades ago at Rice about a satellite power system that proposed putting 60 huge satellites in geosynchronous orbit around Earth to collect solar energy and microwave it to receiving antennas on Earth. One of my research issues was the potential interference with bird migration by the microwave system, and I had a chance to study various aspects about how birds navigate. It’s truly mind blowing to begin to understand the navigation skills of birds as well as the ingenious ways the researchers went about proving their various theories. Perhaps more about that later. But for today, enjoy the Black-bellied Plover and think about the fact that the fall migration has begun, even though it is hot as hades here on the coast and fall seems but a dream in a galaxy far, far away. And, be safe. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 136
August 4, 2020 Hello all. It is Day 136. For some reason, I decided to go back to the beginning of the virus vigil to revisit the origins – the reason for the vigil – and it was really interesting. I was so naïve about what we were facing. So unclear that we would be looking at a widgeon – a duck for which I had not written a poem back on March 22 when this started. But the purpose of the vigil was for Isabelle and me to reach out to each of you and try to do something to break up the isolation – the void that arose from the loss of social interaction – the time apart. Today, Isabelle and I continue to reach out and use my poetry and her art as a way of bridging a space between us – a space that has gotten wider and wider with social isolation and hiding from the virus. If you are interested in going back to some of those early virus vigils, they are all posted at https://www.jimblackburninfo.com/virus-vigil.html. Today’s bird is the widgeon, a lovely duck that winters on the Texas coast and that Garland and I saw on the lake behind our home in Wimberley during the spring migration a few years back. Widgeons whistle rather than quack, something they have in common with several other ducks such as the pintail and the green and blue winged teal drakes. I would also like to say that a project I have been working on at the Severe Storm (SSPEED) Center at Rice – the Galveston Bay Park Plan - was one of three submissions to be selected as a “vision” for the Houston region’s future in the American Institute of Architects Houston Vision 2020 competition – the top prize in the competition. The Galveston Bay Park Plan proposes to protect the western shoreline of Galveston Bay, including residential and industrial areas, from a large hurricane. Among other things, this solution will create a 10,000 acre park within Galveston Bay that will protect the shoreline, accommodate dredging of the Houston Ship Channel and create the areas for placement of dredged material for the future while developing a world-class, multi-purpose recreational destination. To read more, go to https://www.jimblackburninfo.com/press.html. And remember to be safe out there. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 135
August 3, 2020 Hello all. It is Day 135 of this virus vigil. I continue to be surprised by this disease and our underwhelming response to it. But I will not linger as there are other things to discuss today. First, I got several positive emails about placing Isabelle’s painting front and center so I am doing it both ways when I have both versions of the image to work with. Let me know if you like this new format. It takes a bit more space, but then I don’t think anyone really cares about that and these images are worth seeing up close and personal. Today’s tree is the Baobob, the upside-down tree of Africa. Isabelle talks about how the limbs look like roots, hence upside-down tree. There is no doubt that the individuals of this tree species have distinct personalities. At certain times, they seem to remind me of a human form. At other times, they just simply stand and dominate a space but have no doubt – they do dominate a space. To me, they always seem otherworldly and send me off to explorations within my mind and then beyond my mind. So join me on a journey today and enjoy the Baobob. And be safe out there. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 134
August 2, 2020 Happy Sunday and Day 134. It’s strange how the days of the week seem to have lost their meaning a bit with many of us staying home and not getting out and around nearly as much. Yesterday’s painting of the Sandwich Tern was focused on courage. As Isabelle tells me, it takes courage to dive like the tern, and we all need courage to do our daily business these days. Courage – what we call it when we do what we have to do. I imagine the first tern that dove for a fish – headfirst into the water from height and survived – was pretty scared. And I know that Covid has me and most my age very anxious. And then today – we have the Chestnut-sided Warbler, an honest bird – a bird whose name tells the truth about the way the bird looks. Some other birds are honest as well, but many are not. I can imagine that they are trying to fool me, and many are totally successful. But I forgive the birds. They did not name themselves. We did. And even then, I can forgive our bird namers who often see some very small difference that is very real but not easily visible to my eye when it comes to some bird subtle differences. What I have much more trouble forgiving is intentional deception – outright lying – which seems to be the way of many in today’s society. I guess it has always been that way, but it seems when I was growing up, the general population disapproved of it. We did not honor those who lied, a situation that seems to have changed. It seems from the little bits I pick up about reality TV that lying is considered a virtue if it gets you what you want. And to return to courage, in these days it takes courage to call out those among us who lie. One of the things I became good at as a lawyer was exposing the lies of opposing experts in cross-examination. I hated that some experts would sell opinions that were false – with little to no basis in fact. That was an honorable part of my job as a lawyer. Truth is important to me, and I hope that it is to you as well. Enjoy an honest bird today and be safe out there. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 133
August 1, 2020 Greetings. I hope connectuality is working its way into all aspects of your life. And I’m glad that we continue to be connected, although it’s time for a visit to my church to breathe in the Gulf and watch the pelicans fly and dive. I did see a Mississippi kite flying over the pines and oaks in my sister’s neighborhood in Beaumont yesterday morning – a nice start to a long day of moving her to Houston. Today’s bird is the Sandwich Tern, a bird I first saw with old friend B.C. Robison on a fishing trip with guide and friend Al Garrison on Matagorda Bay. And I am at the point in this vigil where I am going to be sharing some funny moments with friends like the one today about this fishing trip. So be warned friends – past exploits are potentially to be revealed on the vigil which is becoming the tell-all vigil as material keeps being used. And I may even tell a few on myself as well, as there are many. So today, I smile remembering B.C. laying out a picnic for us in the midst of hot and heavy trout action, much to the surprise of our fishing guide who could not believe that a “pilgrim” would put down a fishing rod, bring out the picnic and watch the birds going after the bait scattering from feeding trout. To this day, I smile at Al shaking his head. And my hat’s off to B.C. for introducing me to the wonderful Sandwich Tern as well as for helping focus priorities on a visit to Earth Church. Be safe out there. Blackburn. | ||
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Day 132
July 31, 2020 Day 132 and we are setting virus records. There is a saying that if you don’t have anything nice to say, then don’t say it. So with that – I’m moving on to talk today about endangered species. I have been privileged to litigate and to more generally work as an environmental lawyer trying to protect endangered species. In many respects, to litigate on behalf of an endangered species like the whooping cranes or today’s bird – the piping plover – is a bit like taking on a death penalty case except that the client is the entire species rather than one life. In Earth Church, respect for life and living things is a paramount value. I am therefore I am. the Earth is, therefore we are. These are life-affirming mantras – mantras that fill me with pride and love for all living things – love that also is an essential part of Earth Church. I would like to see the religious community be more attuned to some of the more interesting, recent developments such as the expansion of the Trinity so that the Holy Spirit becomes interpreted as the Earth, and to insult the Earth is to insult God. And you have to ask if Noah saved all those animals only for us to wipe them out. A species is an important piece of the puzzle of life. Species naturally come and go, but we should not be the agent of the demise of a species. So when you see a piping plover, or a whooping crane, or a golden cheeked warbler or black-capped vireo in the Hill Country, you are seeing a member of a species that is ENDANGERED – on the verge of extinction, and it is very reasonable that we should do all that we can not to remove this species from the Earth by our hand. And it is something special to get to see one of these species and spend a little time with it. Enjoy today’s poem and be safe. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 131
July 30, 2020 Hello all. I am back at you once again on Day 131. So what is there to say today that you haven’t already heard? Well – not much new on the virus front. You might be interested in hearing about classes at Rice this fall semester. I will be offering my course at Rice on sustainable design in the new hybrid format - part in person, part online. We’ll see how that develops. Rice is going to be testing us and testing the students so it will be interesting. We are to take our temperature each day. Masks and social distancing. There are many pitfalls ahead, but like any bad situation, it may generate new reactions and yield benefits far beyond my understanding right now. So it is with a good attitude that I think about this going forward. Today’s topic is once again a departure from the bird format, but keys off of one of the earliest vigil poems – the great-tailed grackle (Day 5). Today’s poem is about connectuality and was stimulated by today’s art by Isabelle which is not the usual way that we work. Connectuality is a word I made up. As far as I am concerned, we can make up words if they are generated for the right reasons, and my reason was to describe something that other words did not. I am not sure I could offer a precise definition, but I know it when I have it. It is a desirable state to me – a place where I want to be. So enjoy this little poem today and if you do, thank TOB (tough old bird) Ann Hamilton for helping me hammer this one into a better offering. Ann and my wife Garland both help me work my way through these new poems that are coming fast and sometimes are not as good as they should or could be. Those two help me make them better, and I am appreciative of the help. Two other items. If you are interested in the “carbon farming” work that I occasionally mention in the poems and that we are developing standards for over at the Baker Institute at Rice, there is a webinar in which I am making a presentation on Cash Benefits for Improved Ecosystem Services on Thursday, August 6, 11:45 to 12:45 CST. This is offered by the National Center for Appropriate Technology. It is free. Register here. https://register.gotowebinar.com/register/1155955465510044173. Also, don’t forget that I am also presenting a seminar for Urban Harvest on climate change – what it is and what we can and should do about it. This is also a free program and will be August 1 from 10 a.m. to 11:30. You can register at https://www.urbanharvest.org/stec_event/online-education-climate-change-emergency/. And be safe. Connectuality awaits. Blackburn | ||
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DAY 130
July 29, 2020 Day 130. And the vigil continues, because we still must be watchful. We cannot assume anything about this virus. And now to today’s bird – the pileated woodpecker, a big, splendid, wonderful woodpecker that can be seen at Memorial Park and many forested areas in the region. Today, I am taking you on a canoe trip down Buffalo Bayou on the stretch between Loop 610 and Shepherd Drive to meet the pileated woodpecker. I used to take my environmental planning class in the Architecture School at Rice down the bayou every year with the help of my late, great friend Don Greene, and those trips never failed to generate an adventure. There was the time that one canoe flipped about a hundred yards downstream from the put-in, and I had to jump in and help pull two students out of the limbs of a fallen tree. We absolutely made the students wear life vests and the water was not flowing fast, but it was more adventure than I wanted. And then there was the time that two students flipped their canoe when they were not moving – just floating and flipped – and this one young woman stood up in the two-foot deep water and screamed out “I hate everything in the water”. Not much I could do to be of assistance to that one. I am not as brave these days as I was in my younger days (or perhaps wiser) – not sure I could manage 30 students on the bayou, but with Don’s leadership, I always felt we were in good hands. But the point here is that we have an urban experience in canoeing Buffalo Bayou that will make you think you are on Village Creek or the Neches River in the Big Thicket in East Texas. It is a beautiful trip. It is a beautiful bayou. And there are wonderful birds and bunnies back there, as well as otters and beavers. In fact, one of the last gifts given to me by Don was a walking stick that was formed when a beaver chewed down a sapling on Buffalo Bayou. I am happy to have my Buffalo Bayou beaver stick. Today, I miss my friend Don, but I celebrate what he taught me about rivers and bayous, and I always think of him when I see the pileated woodpecker. So be safe out there and think smart about the virus. Blackburn | ||
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DAY 129
July 28, 2020 Time rolls on. Day 129. And today we have a lovely bird – the blue-gray gnatcatcher, a small one that is wonderful to see out in the open. But before going to the gnatcatcher, I must fess up to botching the quote by Descartes which actually is “I think, therefore I am”. What I gave you was my remembrance of what he said, which I set out as “I am, therefore I am”. What you saw yesterday was evidence of one of my problems – I tend to offer my own interpretations rather than being faithful to the original material. This was a major problem with me as a law student, and I have to admit to hating legal “precedent” which I always wanted to change. I should have checked my memory by looking up the quote, but alas, I did not. On the other hand, as far as I am concerned, “I think, therefore I am” is the same as “I am, therefore I am”. It is a self-proclamation of both a profound and amazingly simple concept – a pronouncement that could get you some stares on the street. But my interpretation takes away the edginess of his phrase, namely that there is something special about “thinking”. Without the ability to “think”, I would not be, according to Descartes. Many have used that distinction to exclude birds and bunnies from existence based on cognition. But who are we to say that the birds and bunnies don’t think. I would assert that they most certainly do. Anyone who has watched a crow solve a problem, or a squirrel attack a bird-feeder, would have to agree that they do think. So, at least in Earth church, “I am, there I am – the Earth is, therefore we are” is the mantra. But enough of that. Today I am interested in jumping into memory, another fascinating subject to me. So many of the poems I write are about experiences that happened many years ago, decades even, and on a good day they come back to me crystal clear. It is a reason for going out and doing things – enjoying them today and also enjoying the replay in the future. This is a form of currency that we have the ability to put in the bank of our minds. So today, I am offering you a withdrawal from Blackburn Savings and Loan, which also illustrates much of my problem with making serious money, namely, I often made the “wrong” type of deposits. Don’t forget to smile today, watch out for the virus and call someone you know and tell them that you are thinking about them. Descartes would be proud. Blackburn | ||
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DAY 128
July 27, 2020 We have arrived at Day 128. Welcome to today’s topic which is being. Not being anything, but just being. And think about it – we call ourselves human beings. So what are the birds and bunnies – nature beings? Or just its and things? Being is a profound subject. “I am therefore I am” - the famous words from the philosopher Descartes - probably the last clear understanding I received from Dr. Silber’s Plan II philosophy class at UT Austin. Descartes’ famous phrase can be translated as “I be” and since “I be”, I am a being. But the definitions of being that I have tracked down seem to stop at humans. On the other hand, “The Earth is, therefore I am” is the cornerstone concept of Earth church. Without the Earth, we would not be. So how can we claim to be the sole being – seems we must encompass the other “beings” of Earth. At Earth church, all are beings. We are one - life on Earth, of the Earth, by the Earth. And with that as a central tenet, we must address issues such as climate change which is changing the Earth that gave and continues giving life to all Earth beings. That is why I keep returning to it. The Earth’s climate is changing and human beings are changing it. That is fact. That is science. We are changing that which allowed us “to be”. We are changing that which allows the birds and bunnies “to be”. It is a subject that we all should know about. I am continuing to learn about this important subject, but I am also sharing what I have learned. There is a free lecture by me sponsored by Urban Harvest (our great urban agriculture group here in Houston) that will be offered next Saturday, August 1, from 10 a.m. to 11:30 a.m. My topic is climate change and it is titled “Introduction to Climate Change: The Problems and the Solutions”. If you are interested, here is a link. Climate Change Emergency class series. Again, it’s free but you have to register. Also, Dr. Bob Randall, the man who knows the most about growing vegetables and other things in Houston, will make a presentation on August 15 (also for Urban Harvest) titled “Plants and Food in a Changing Climate”. So enjoy today’s poem which is another departure from our pattern of a specific bird, to which we will return on Tuesday. Stay safe and vigilant. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 127
July 26, 2020 It’s Day 127. Are you tired of Covid yet? Had enough of this? Well, we have no one to blame but ourselves for selecting the teams that are in charge of the country and the state right now. It is time that we call a spade a spade. If we had been smart like New York, I don’t think we would be where we are now. I never particularly cared for Andrew Cuomo, but my hat’s off to him – he led New York out of a hole to a much better place. And now it looks like the Rio Grande Valley – my childhood home and the worst Covid disaster area in Texas – is about to be inundated with serious rains. And on top of that, Congress did not extend unemployment payments and people are going to be evicted. For South Texas – a trifecta – a bad run of luck and stupidity. But enough of that. I want to go for a lighter touch today with this poem about the Semipalmated Plover – a small bird of the beach and the flats that scurries along picking at morsels on the sand. The Plover and I are finding amusement today in the television coverage of Hanna, as well as many past coverages. My favorite television reporter story from a flood event came from Channel 11 here in Houston which before Harvey was near Buffalo Bayou. When Buffalo Bayou flooded, the water would come across Allen Parkway and often get near the station, making it an excellent reporting venue. On this evening, the reporter had stepped out into the water in a pair of hip boots and was talking about being careful and to watch out for . . . and then she screamed out SNAKES as one swam right past her. That was a great moment of live TV. I have great respect for the good reporters out there covering the storms, but then again, there is a collection that descends and some of the light bulbs are not as bright as the others. So today, a light-hearted poem and a bonus image from Isabelle of rain of which we’ve had some but nothing terrible here in my neighborhood just north of Rice. And be safe out there. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 126
July 25, 2020 Day 126 of the vigil. And Rick Pratt, a faithful correspondent, responded to the note about vigilante saying that night watchmen in Mexico are called vigilantes and from the Latin before that, "vigilanteum" - watchful. Well – I am certainly watchful these days, looking out for that little weird-looking virus lurking around here and there. And today, I want to take us to new territory – a territory inspired by the poem about the Mississippi Kite where many of you responded positively to my “putting my plug in the natural socket and hooking self up to the metaphysical rocket”. Isabelle read that piece and sent me the image that is attached today – an image of a comet in the night sky – an image that many of you might have actually seen recently. And I just decided to play with that concept and use Isabelle’s meteor as today’s vigil image and write a poem about a manifestation of that metaphysical rocket. I am intrigued by creativity – where it comes from, how it occurs, when it occurs. I have been fortunate during this vigil writing to have been able to come up with at least a few new thoughts and to keep the writing coming as has Isabelle with the paintings. But some days are easier than others. Yesterday three poems came out really quickly. Other days – nothing much worth keeping. Sometimes it’s the barest of threads - feeling a wind gust at the edge of a thunderstorm or hearing the rumble of thunder and I’m suddenly a kid playing in a drainage ditch and there’s a red-headed woodpecker on the telephone pole at my grandmother’s house – an image I had not thought about for over sixty years. I like to look at older, non-rhyming poems and pick up one or two key images or ideas and then set the rhymes around it. But I must say, when the comet comes through, it’s a fun ride. Be safe out there. And the birds will return tomorrow. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 125
July 24, 2020 Day 125 of the virus vigil. Are we virus vigilantes because we are on a virus vigil? I need to research my word origins a bit. Back to you on that one. And we are having an active season in the tropics so far. We have two named storms around – Gonzalo which is projected to move toward the slot between the Yucatan and Cuba, a path that often leads to the Texas coast, and Hanna which appears to be heading toward Corpus with lots of rain. Hope everyone fares well with the rain which can be welcome this time of year, but these storms do have a way of giving way too much of a good thing. Today’s bird is the Sora Rail, a beautiful bird of the wetlands. I have been attached to wetlands ever since I was hired to teach environmental law for the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers in the late 1970s out of the Huntsville, Alabama Division (the training division for the Corps at the time). I taught all over the U.S. for the Corps as their wetland protection program evolved into one of the most politicized and controversial programs in the U.S. Because of this, I learned a lot about the Corps of Engineers as well as about wetlands – things like why wetlands are important and why they should be protected. And of course our way as humans has been to drain them – fill them – make them “usable”. I seem to recall that one of the reasons for forming the State of Texas was to drain swamps. The bottom line is that based on what we know today, most wetlands should never be proposed for development, much less developed, but it is a change in the way that we have done things in the past, and that is the key to so much that I am interested in today. They are great flood buffers and in some areas are important sources of water supply and of course are very valuable to fish and wildlife. If you fill them, then you push floodwaters elsewhere that were stored on that land historically, something that happened in the White Oak Bayou watershed in northwest Houston where the flood plain is now over a mile wide between Loop 610 and downtown, due at least in part to filling of wetlands northwest of Loop 610 up the watershed according to some excellent work done by Dr. John Jacobs, a true wetland expert. When I speak about bringing the economic system into accord with the ecologic system, this is what I am referring to – creating value for important natural areas that have little to no dollar value in our society today that uses money as the primary arbiter of what is important. As we move toward more holistic systems that tie ecology and economy together, understanding and appropriately valuing the role of wetlands will be an important piece of that system, along with valuing carbon and other aspects of the natural cycles of the Earth. But until then, we need stewards of our wetlands and those that will fight to protect them, and we need Earth Church to instill and reinforce the values of good stewardship in all of us. And of course, be safe out there. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 124
July 23, 2020 Day 124. I really find it hard to believe that Isabelle and I decided to try and put out a painting and a poem for the length of a pandemic that seems to be without end. It reminds me about being a child in the Baptist church musing about the concept of everlasting life – forever and ever and ever, never ending. I was actually contemplating concepts such as eternal, and it just went on and on and on. Over the many years since then, I have come to truly enjoy musing and messing around with the metaphysical, and I feel like we currently are living in some metaphysical drama. And while Isabelle and I might not have to keep writing and painting forever and ever, there is no end in sight, and that is really strange. An old friend Hilmar Moore and I once taught a continuing studies short course at Rice on environmental thinking that wandered into metaphysical issues, and I learned more teaching with Hilmar - about thinking beyond the Earth’s and my own boundaries – about letting my mind wander out into the universe with no end in sight and being comfortable with it - than I have before or since. So thank you Hilmar for your brilliant star. And there is so much about my current interest in the Earth and its rhythms and cycles that derives from those lectures and my early Earth Church days, pulling me into metaphysics with concepts such as connectuality with the energy of life. I like to think about life energy circulating and every now and then getting an infusion, a bump, that comes from somewhere totally unknown, like a meteor shower within me. Well – enough of that. Back here within the “real world”, you might check out this URL address to learn a bit more about the work I have been doing on soil carbon storage and creating a system for buying and selling carbon. https://youtu.be/fgBheMq4zTY. There is a cameo performance by Loy Sneery of Matagorda County who is moving his cows in this piece that is part of our application from the Baker Institute at Rice University to see if we can be selected as a finalist for the Lyda Hill Lone Star Prize of $10 million to implement a solution to one or more major problems facing Texas, with ours being climate change. Enjoy the video and today’s poem and painting of the Mississippi Kite, a bird that brings metaphysical hope and power to my life. And, of course, be safe. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 123
July 22, 2020 Day 123. Hello – and yes – this is not a test. This is a real event that you are participating in. I often wondered how people felt who were caught up in historic events – events over which they really had no control – events that acted upon them in serious, perhaps life changing, ways, and I think that this Covid situation or perhaps the current leadership situation or perhaps both fall in that category. This is a time when we all need to keep our wits – to keep our balance to borrow from the Cactus Wren – balance in taking care of ourselves, balance in helping friends and others. To find balance, to find strength, you now know that I go to nature – to my church that is the Earth – a spiritual and mental center (and physical as I am often walking or kayaking). And there is nothing quite like hearing a hawk shrieking from the air, flying past, allowing a glimpse, a sighting in an urban area. And today’s bird is a great one – and it comes with a story. True story – no lie. Garland and I were at an Audubon Society function at a very nice home with big picture windows looking out at a courtyard, and a presentation was about to begin. And when the program began. as we were all looking out toward the windows at the presenter, feathers started falling from the sky behind the picture windows and down to the yard. Indeed, the Cooper’s Hawk (most likely) had made its entry into the program in a way that led to more than one gasp in the audience. To say it was a surprise is an understatement. Enjoy my tribute to the Cooper’s Hawk and be safe out there. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 122
July 21, 2020 Well, today is the 122nd day, but the first when Isabelle and I have moved out of Texas for a bird, but I might add, one with a bit of Texas spirit. This is the Hoatzin, a bird of the Amazon – one of the most interesting and crazy birds I have ever encountered. Just thinking about it makes me smile. And I might mention a bit about Isabelle’s painting which is a bit different than what you have seen so far. Today’s art is from her journal that she keeps on the various trips that she has taken, many of which have been with me and Garland and her husband John Chapman. On these trips, she keeps a record of where we have been and what we have seen and done, and collects all sorts of things that catches her eye, which often finds sparkles and glittery things. She also paints the trees and the birds that catch her eye. In today’s painting from a trip we made a couple of years back to Ecuador, it is the Hoatzin that is shown in a more regal pose than described in the poem, but you will be able to tell the difference in the presentation of the art, which is a bit more raw in the journals. Regardless of where you go, Earth Church awaits you to discover it – to enter it – to let it become part of your life. In today’s poem, we are on a tributary of the Amazon River way upstream within one of the truly special places in the Earth. But here is the important point – if a place on Earth has life and living things in it, it is a chapel of the Church of the Earth, wherever you are. We oftentimes celebrate what is truly magnificent and forget to enjoy that which is just good, just okay, just merely functioning and alive and full of the energy of life that will liberate you anywhere, any place, any time. But for today, let’s go way up the Amazon and smile a bit. And by all means, be vigilant about the virus. Blackburn | ||
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DAY 121
July 20, 2020 Welcome to Day 121. We still have a mess on our hands with Covid seemingly getting worse by the day. I continue to find it hard to believe this situation was botched so badly. And now we may have a storm forming although we may not know for a day or two more. That would be just lovely – Covid and a storm. A group I helped co-found – the Bayou City Initiative – has been very concerned about the potential overlap of this two events, and our project manager Elizabeth White Olsen has done a great job of trying to push our officials about their plans and thinking regarding this potential double hit. Again, stay on your toes out there. Today I want to celebrate young birds. Isabelle likes to paint chicks. We have already seen Clapper Rail and Least Tern chicks and there is a Piping Plover coming. But today, it is a more general celebration of young birds – new life here on Earth. Here, Earth Church becomes the place where life is celebrated. And it is worth thinking about the fact that the Earth is the only place in the universe where life as we know it exists, although we have a bit to learn yet for sure. However, I think it is interesting that our philosophies about life, about existence, don’t seem to really appreciate the only place where life as we know it exists. This is the void that Earth Church fills. There is more to be developed here than I have done so far, and it appears that Isabelle and I will be at this vigil for a while so this is an interesting area we hope to expand. Be careful out there. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 120
July 19, 2020 Here we are – day 120 and Harris County is setting records every day on the seven-day average of new cases. But there is something positive -if you haven’t seen the Houston Chronicle today, you might check Zest for coverage of the virus vigil – yes this virus vigil - written by Molly Glentzer who did an excellent job of capturing the spirit of the virus vigil. If you do not have access to the Houston Chronicle, here is a link. https://preview.houstonchronicle.com/art-exhibits/how-two-houstonians-are-turning-a-pandemic-into-15415147. Today I want to talk about land stewardship, a topic I seem to be involved with most every day on the coast and in the Hill Country. Interestingly, the concept of stewardship has a religious connection from the new testament and springs from the Greek word oikonomia which means care of the household and which is also the root word for economics and ecology. What an interesting trilogy – economics, ecology and stewardship. If life were a mystery and I, a detective, I would pursue this a clue. Just think about it – a good steward takes care of the household and taking care of the household involves money matters and also keeping our planet alive, hence ecology. Most of the work I am doing today on carbon storage in the soil is working on ways to send monetary positive signals to landowners to help them make good decisions for the Earth and reward good stewardship, and many landowners have already committed to trying to protect their lands by giving conservation easements to groups such as Bayou Land Conservancy, Galveston Bay Foundation, the Nature Conservancy, Texas Agricultural Land Trust, Houston Audubon Society and many others. And then there are groups like Texas Coastal Exchange and the soon-to-be-announced Texas Hill Country Exchange that will pay landowners for carbon storage and in the case of the Hill Country Exchange, payments will also be focused on in-situ protection of groundwater near major springs. Stewardship is an important concept that is another key tenet of Earth Church. And although it is a bit warm out there, services early and late are worth attending these days. And of course, be safe. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 119
July 18, 2020 Hello all. It is day 119, and the virus vigil marches on. Today’s bird is the tufted titmouse, another of my favorite Hill Country birds. It always seems to be around, and I believe it’s a pretty sharp bird. It’s always the first to find the feeder which we try to refill whenever we return up here, and we drove up here Thursday from Houston after Garland, who is a partner in a CPA firm, finished tax season which had been extended until July 15 from April 15 due to the virus. On the way up here, we were listening to a talk show, and the guest mentioned that it was only 111 days until the election, which is 109 from today. Imagine this – Isabelle and I have been engaged on this virus vigil for more days than remain until we vote on a significant portion of our country’s leadership. Some of you may remember that I wrote on July 4 about patriotism when Isabelle painted that red, white and blue trio of birds – about what it means to be a patriot – about how patriotism can be hijacked. And what patriotism means this year is to get involved in this election. If you don’t like what is going on with the virus, get involved in the election. If you don’t like what is going on with climate, get involved in the election. And I will add that if you like what is going on, get involved in the election. This is our process and for it to work, we all have to get involved. As you all know from prior vigils, I am not impressed with our state or federal leadership which has not protected us as we should have been protected in my opinion. I try not to be overtly political too often in these writings, but every so often, the tufted titmouse catches me when I am most vulnerable – asleep – and talks to me on the porch. If you don’t like what I am saying, you need to talk with the titmouse. And I might warn you – you will get an earful back from the gray one. And be safe out there. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 118
July 17, 2020 Day 118 and Covid marches on. In talking with Isabelle the other day, she was intrigued with the concept of balance which is exhibited in today’s art and poem. Balance can be considered as an ability to maintain with a minimum of sway. And with Covid and isolation and the general bad information and stupidity that is around, many of us are swaying quite a bit, or, as has been said, “bouncing off the walls”. Balance keeps us from banging into the walls, but it has to be worked, it has to be perfected. That is what I always enjoyed about yoga – the attempt to find the center of gravity – to stand on one foot, to gyrate around a center. And how about the idea of becoming centered – of getting our emotions, our thought processes – within ourselves, of finding that central essence of self and breathing into it, fostering it. It seems that if there is one quality that our governments and our corporations and our people lack it is balance. In the poem on the bats I mentioned yin and yang, the Chinese concept of duality, the concept of balance in life. Balance is another central tenet of Earth Church, for ecological systems seek balance, with predator prey relationships and population adjustments based on conditions. Humans have a huge amount of difficulty with balance, as exhibited by climate, as exhibited by our response to Covid. So think of an Earth Mouth like Bracken Cave (but with no guano) and breath deeply from the balance that is provided by the Earth, and try not to bounce against the walls today. And be safe out there. Blackburn. |
| Day 118: Cactus Wren |
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DAY 117
July 16, 2020 Wow. Day 117, and we still have some new material, and we still have Covid which is like a bad shadow lurking just at the edge of our vision - never clear, always just in front, or behind, making us uneasy. And remember, the antidote is to reach out and find a friend to comfort, to say hi to and try and bring a little light to chase the shadow away, plus using the hand sanitizer and a mask. Today we will be visiting Bracken Cave, one of several wonderful homes to Mexican Free-tailed bats (the designated Texas state flying mammal – bet you didn’t know that!) that come north to give birth to their young. Bracken Cave is a feature of the karst topography of the Texas Hill Country, a limestone system of caves and underground tunnels full of truly unique spaces, some of which are inhabited by species found nowhere else in the world, and it is likely we have not discovered all of them yet. From the work I have done, I am convinced that we really don’t understand this Karst landscape very well. Because the karst feature derives from a process of dissolution of the geologic formation, there are myriad unknown and unmapped underground pathways where caves can be found and where rainwater soaks into the subsurface and later bursts out as springs in many locations, feeding the Nueces, Guadalupe, San Marcos, Comal, Llano, Blanco, San Antonio and Sabinal river systems that are a major recreational area for the State. And there are fabulous underground bat-homes like Bracken Cave that are really special. I believe that this Karst topographic region should receive special protection as a unique natural wonder of Texas, an Earth Church monument that today receives no special protection from either the Texas or national governments. Today I hope you enjoy this tribute to the Bracken Bat Cave that is preserved due to the efforts of Bat Conservation International, which you might consider supporting. And be safe out there. Blackburn. |
| Day 117: The Red-Tailed Hawk |
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DAY 116
July 15, 2020 Well, our strange times continue, and we have reached Day 116. Before today’s conversation, I want to let you know that I am making a presentation on climate change tonight (Wednesday, July 15) at 7 p.m. for the Bay Area Sierra Club. This is a Zoom meeting and you are all invited. If you want to attend, just follow the attached link. The presentation will cover both the problem and the solutions. The link is: https://us02web.zoom.us/j/4168201898?pwd=MzBpZ2hvUVFMckw4anlldTh6Tkh3dz09. Today’s bird is the least tern, the smallest of these coastal fishing birds, and a wonderful little bird to encounter over the water. The poem is about fishermen using signals from the birding world to locate fish, something that I learned over my many years fishing the coast. And the more you know about these coastal birds, the more they can tell you. But that raises a more interesting issue about the intelligence of birds and bunnies and crows and jays and many others. I think one of the things that those coming after us will have trouble understanding is how little respect we humans generally have for birds and other living things. My musings and philosophical journeys with Earth Church represent an attempt to turn that thought process around, not by recognizing the intelligence or uniqueness per se, but simply by celebrating life and other living things . By having the preservation and celebration of all life forms as a central tenet, the thinking and spirituality of Earth Church will send us in the right direction. Now be safe out there. Blackburn. | ||
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DAY 115
July 14, 2020 Hello once again. This is your 115th daily reminder that Covid is still amongst us and to be safe. I am still experiencing computer glitches which I hope to resolve today when my new computer is operational, so you may receive multiple copies. Today I am writing about the Black Tern and a great environmental lawyer Oliver Houck from Tulane Law School over in New Orleans. Ollie and I have known each other for many years, and while not close friends, I have great respect for him which in the business of law is extremely important. Today’s poem is about a day Ollie and I spent together birdwatching on the Bolivar Peninsula and about the need – every now and then – for an environmental lawyer to come in and protect your birds and bunnies as well as perhaps yourself. One of the greatest parts of being an environmental lawyer is having the ability to stand up and fight for those lacking the means to fight for themselves. Thankfully, there are wonderful humans out there who will either use their own money and/or will help raise money to pay an environmental lawyer to help them act as stewards of important cathedrals of Earth Church – places that someone loves, places to which they introduce a lawyer like myself - places such as the bays of the Texas Coast or our coastal wetlands or the Trinity and Columbia bottomlands or large coastal, south, and west Texas ranches like I have had the experience to try to protect in my career. I am now largely retired as a litigator, although I recently signed my name to a petition about the contamination of the Trinity Aquifer up in the Hill Country. It is a great gift to be able to act to protect my spiritual center- my church that is the Earth. So enjoy today’s poem about me and Ollie and the Black Tern, and you might just get a kick out of the prayer at the end. And be safe out there. Blackburn | ||
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DAY 114
July 13, 2020 Hello all. Day 114 has arrived. Hope you are being safe and wearing your mask. Today’s poem is about the Scaled Quail, a.k.a. Blue Quail. This poem is based on a true event that today makes me smile. I was raised to be an excellent hunter. We were not wealthy. I learned to hunt doves with a limited number of shells shooting a full choke 20 gauge shotgun, which requires good marksmanship. We didn’t have a quail lease. My dad worked with farmers and ranchers and got permission to come onto their property. I was taught to respect the land and the landowners. I was taught to appreciate the opportunity to hunt. And the times that my dad and I spent together hunting and fishing are among the best remembrances of my childhood. And as I grew older, it became clearer and clearer that I did not need to hunt to enjoy the outdoors – that it was the outdoor experience that was important, not the hunting per se. The actual decision to quit hunting came after a white-winged dove hunt near Ciudad Victoria, Mexico – part of the pathway to whom I am today – a trip I may share with you when I share the poem about the white-winged dove. Not long after that trip, I quit drinking and then discovered Earth Church and hunting was no longer a part of my life, although fishing has remained. I am not judgmental about it – it was just the right thing for me to quit hunting. That does not mean, however, that the memories from my hunting days are not fondly recalled. To the contrary, I cherish those memories as you will see in this poem about the Scaled Quail. And remember, you can find the old virus vigils at https://www.jimblackburninfo.com/virus-vigil.html. Be safe. Blackburn. |
| Day 114: Scaled Quail |
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Day 113 July 12, 2020 It’s Day 113, and we are taking a break from the virus and instead are today escaping with the help of a bird that has been a companion of mine since 1972 when Garland and I moved to Houston from Austin. Like many, we shook hands coming into town saying that we would stay only for the one year that I was to be in graduate school in environmental engineering at Rice after UT law school. Those were the early days of environmental planning, and I got mixed up with a wonderful group of great scientists and planners, ultimately working with them at the Rice Center for Community Design after spending the first year after graduating working with Ian McHarg’s planning team on the environmental design of The Woodlands. It was at Rice Center that I met Dr. H.C. Clark, one of the neatest human beings I have ever known and with whom I still work, and long-time dear friend Peter Rowe, with whom I worked closely for several years. We somehow adopted the Attwater’s Prairie Chicken – today’s bird – as our mascot and included the prairie chicken in the dedication of our 1978 book titled Principles for Local Environmental Management. When Peter left for Harvard in the mid-1980s, Isabelle made a Paper Mache Attwater’s Prairie Chicken for Peter to take with him up to Harvard so as not to forget our “place”. And then the stories of the Attwater’s decline became more frequent until there were only two places where they could be dependably found – Attwater’s Prairie Chicken National Wildlife Refuge between Sealy and Eagle Lake (the sit | ||