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. I will be sending these out daily via email, and if you wish to sign up for the mailing list, please enter your email address below.
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 press ctrl+f and enter your search term. I love to hear your comments and feedback. Feel free to send me a note or request a day for your favorite bird 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 press ctrl+f and enter your search term. I love to hear your comments and feedback. Feel free to send me a note or request a day for your favorite bird by emailing me at jbb@blackburncarter.com . Take care and know that you are in my thoughts.
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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 | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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 | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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 | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
DAY 272
December 19, 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. | ||
|
DAY 271
December 16, 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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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.. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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 | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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 | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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 | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||||
|
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 | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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 | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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 | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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 | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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 | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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 | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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 | ||
|
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 | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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 | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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 | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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 | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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 | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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 | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. |
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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 | ||
|
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 | ||
|
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 | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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 | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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. | ||
|
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.pdf |
|
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 |
|
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. | ||
|
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 | ||
|
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 |
|
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 site of today’s poem) and down near Texas City on land at that time owned by Mobil Oil. I heard the following story from the Mobil person in charge at the time. Roger Tory Peterson was THE MAN of birdwatching back in the latter part of the 20th Century (see Peterson’s Guide to Texas Birds – and yes, Texas has its own birding guide for its 654 species). Mr. Peterson called up Mobil and asked to come down and see the prairie chickens booming at their Texas City property. This person I heard the story from was given the responsibility of taking care of Mr. Peterson on his arrival. So, the morning of the visit came, and it was still dark when they drove up to the site. When the car stopped, Mr. Peterson jumped out of the car and promptly fell into a roadside ditch. Of course, the Mobil folks freaked out and went running to pull him out of the ditch. My friend telling the story paused and said “At that point, the thought running through my head was that I am the man who killed Roger Tory Peterson on Mobil’s land”. Well, Mr. Peterson, although being older and looking a bit frail, was a hardy outdoorsman and came bounding back up out of the ditch and proceeded to see the booming ceremony that is depicted in today’s poem. But whenever I hear the name Attwater’s Prairie Chicken, I often hear this man wailing “I am the man who killed Roger Tory Peterson”, and it never fails to make me smile, and offers an interesting insight into the often very complicated relationships between environmental groups and big oil companies. Today, the Houston Zoo is trying its best to breed and release Attwater’s prairie chickens that have disappeared from all known locales except for the wildlife refuge. You might consider supporting those efforts. Enjoy today’s poem and try to be safe. Blackburn. | ||
|
DAY 112
July 11, 2020 This is just getting crazier and crazier. Day 112. The artist and the poet are nearing the bottom of the barrel. There are a few more jewels left, and we are trying to pump new ones out, but who would have ever thought we would need more than 100 poems and paintings. But we did and we do, and there is no end in sight. So, there may be some African birds in the future or maybe some Ecuadorian or Amazonian. We’ll just have to see. And I hate to say it, but I am hearing from more of you every day about a close friend, or a child, who has Covid. It is out there, and it is harsh and cruel. It means separation. It is not a good thing. So please be careful, and to those of you who are living through loved ones being sick, my heart goes out to you. In the meantime, I want to focus upon a concept that I have talked around but not directly addressed, and that concept is place. Place may be one of the most important concepts in environmental thinking, and it is a key part of Earth Church. Place is about where on Earth we are, and a key aspect of place is getting to know your place – getting out in it, knowing it, celebrating it – finding joy in it. And the best kept secret about our place – the Upper Texas coast around Houston – is that it is full of ecological jewels. It is really a neat ecological place, but we don’t talk about it or celebrate it. Part of the fun of this virus vigil has been introducing some of you to birds that you might not have previously encountered, and our birds are an element of our place, as are the plants, the mammals, and the ecosystems, all of which collectively comprise Earth Church. So enjoy today’s bird – the mottled duck –a true delight to encounter in its place which is our place here on the Texas coast. Be safe. Blackburn. | ||
|
DAY 111
July 10, 2020 Day 111 and Covid is stronger here than when we began. Now stop and think about that for a minute. That really should not have happened. It hit China before the U.S., Europe before the U.S., and New York – hard – before we were hit. We had plenty of time to develop a plan. And we did not. I am trying to understand what this disdain of information – of experience of others dealing with the exact same problem – means in a larger sense. What are the values that are being exhibited? It seems that part of the message is that economic reawakening is more important than the number of people exposed, sick and dead. And it seems that another part of the message is that we are not smart enough to figure out how to open up safely – that this problem is simply beyond the grasp of our leaders. And it seems that another part of the message is that our leaders believe that if they act like they have Covid whipped, we will think that they have been successful. The bottom line is that it’s a sad triad of bad thinking or no thinking. So the good news today is being brought to you by the turkey vulture, another of my favorite birds for what it means and for the bad rap it gets, just like the black vulture. Now the Black Vulture became the High Priest of Earth Church in a very early vigil poem so today the Turkey Vulture becomes the direct link to Mother Earth, she who inspired the concept of Earth Church. So, for this poem, you need to be smooth, relaxed, you want to go with it, let it take you up and then down and all around. And be safe out there. Blackburn. |
| Day 111: Turkey Vulture |
|
DAY 110
July 9, 2020 Well, Day 110 is shaping up a bit smoother than Days 108-109, although some glitches persist this morning. In this hideaway world of Covid, these last days might be characterized as a couple of bad ones, although any day when I’m not sick is a good day compared to many unfortunate ones. So, I tell myself to deal with the trivial and try to duck the big ones. What a great philosophy. Deal with trivial, duck the big ones, dance under the moon, and to Covid be immune. Now there’s a wish list. And speaking of big ones, I want to introduce you to the Black-chinned Hummingbird, a Hill Country favorite. They are fun to watch just sitting on a tree limb after catching your eye – some movement – maybe a butterfly – no, a bird – aah – a hummingbird. And then it goes and raids another’s blossom or feeder and the skirmish develops. What fun. Just really nice. And when gazing on this small bird, you might consider that they use up almost all of the energy they receive during the day, so there is an evolutionary basis for the skirmishing, although it seems to be carried to ridiculous levels. And the more I think about the nutrition needs of this little bird and the Hill Country getting hotter and drier, well – it makes me thirsty as I am sure it makes the hummer even more driven to find blooms. So enjoy Isabelle’s fun black-chinned and be positive and loving out there. We all need it. Blackburn |
| Day 110: Black-chinned Hummingbird |
|
DAY 109
July 9, 2020 Well hello out there. Miss me this morning of Day 109? Well, I am lucky to be in business at the moment. My computer decided to abandon me, and it is lonely in this post-Covid world without a computer. Today’s wonderful piece of art by Isabelle carries a message about love and relationships which I urge you to read before today’s poem. I never knew of the linkage of the wood thrush to long-lasting relationships, but I do know that all such relationships can certainly benefit from a little outside assistance from a loving thrush every now and then. But it seems that I need help on my relationship with my computer, which is tough. The computer is very cold as a partner. It’s hard to get meaningful feedback, particularly when we need to communicate in code – not bird talk code, and not human social clues type of code but line after line of code being retracted and rewritten. It is at this point that I must remind myself that I am powerless in certain of these issues and I need to go to a smoother place, a place where the thrush can find me and give me a little love, because it is not coming from the computer. I am happy to say we have it cooperating enough to get this message out. We’ll see if the relationship holds or if it remains rocky. Hopefully, I can give you an update tomorrow. And stay safe out there. Blackburn. | ||
|
DAY 108
July 7, 2020 Here it is, Day 108, and Isabelle, our great artist, is just painting away. Today’s bird is a delightful image of the Groove-billed Ani, a rather strange looking bird that at first glance seems like a grackle, but it is actually of the cuckoo family, related to roadrunners and the yellow-billed cuckoo whom you’ve already met. I never tire of the diversity of birds that we have in this part of the world. It’s just magnificent and gives us all a reason to smile even if you aren’t out there with them. Just the knowledge that they exist is a basis for joy. And we need joy right now. This whole Covid situation is getting very tiresome. The mercury is moving higher up the thermometer (do they still make mercury thermometers?). Tempers are getting frayed. This is a time to stay home but think large – yes – think LARGE - think about what kind of future you want and what type of reality we have today and ask yourself – is this what you want going forward? If so, pat yourself on the back and sit down. If not, then pledge to do something about it. Yesterday I had the pleasure to announce the partnership between Gulf Coast Green and the Texas Coastal Exchange (TCX) which you all received. TCX was formed to pay landowners for protecting property that puts carbon into the ground but that also provides many other services, like providing habitat for birds and bunnies and fish and shellfish. TCX also was created to form a buffer zone to reduce coastal flood damages. If you subscribe to the concept of Earth Church, think of a donation to TCX as a “tithe” if that works for you or as a tax deductible donation if that works. Either way, you will have done something about climate and habitat, which is a great first step to the many things I believe that we must improve. Just go to https://www.texascoastalexchange.org/ and make a donation to cover your footprint. And stay tuned for more TCX news – there are good things happening. Solving our carbon dioxide crisis may end up being one of the greatest environmental enhancement programs ever. Be safe. Blackburn. | ||
|
Day 107
July 6, 2020 Day 107. I was up in the Hill Country this weekend and it was bright and shiny and hot. Texas summer hot. I was reminded of growing up in South Texas and going to Louisiana when I was a bit older, after baseball season, spending a bit less time in Louisiana and then driving back to South Texas in late August and remembering that trip being like a descent into the levels of hell in Dante’s Inferno. Starting in the forests of central Louisiana, and then driving along the Texas coast south past Houston it would get hotter and drier, then past Victoria and it became brown and the trees much shorter, and then Kingsville and that last stretch across the really brown King Ranch and into Willacy County where we encountered cotton on the side of the road – mile after mile of cotton on the roadside, blowing in the small puffs of wind that seemed like last gasps. Now it’s not that bad yet in 2020, but we could be in for a scorcher. I know that I espouse living in the moment, and I do mean it, and heat affects me less than many because of growing up in South Texas, but it might be necessary to escape every now and then if this turns out to be a really hot and dry summer. So for fun, think back to last spring and the migration of birds that came through the Texas coast back when the weather was reasonable. We all know that this is the time of year that many Texans go somewhere else, but this year may be a bit harder for escape. So – enjoy one of my best memories about meeting the Golden Winged Warbler during the spring migration a few years back. And be safe. As you well know, Texas is not doing very well right now. If only heat would kill Covid, we’d be set, but alas, I don’t think it’s gonna play out that way. Blackburn |
| day107.pdf |
|
DAY 106
July 5, 2020 Happy day after the 4th of July. Today’s message is to try and find a way to smile. I am fortunate. I have Garland and a group of close friends both male and female that are fun-loving – that offer a commentary on the day that is usually full of mischief and fun – and I love them for it. Much of what I work on is serious and could pull me down if I let it. That is where Earth Church comes in – a church that is about enjoyment of life and living – about getting out and relishing the gift of the Earth that we have been given. And if you can crack a joke or make a witty statement along the way or just find enjoyment in some small, neat thing that makes you smile – great. I also try to find humor in events that are otherwise perhaps sad, like Dan Patrick going after Dr. Tony Fauci. That is so bad that it is funny – Dan vs. Tony – no contest. Some real moments should not be laughed at, but when you can, it is a great way to keep from otherwise going crazy, which this particular time in history may become noted for – number of people driven to madness by the appalling mess we found ourselves in. But not me. I’ll just find something that liberates my mind from that little gerbil in my brain that wants to go round and round and round the little spinning cage, like the silly names we have for groups of birds. Enjoy today’s fun-loving poem and be safe out there. Blackburn. |
| Day 106: Canada Goose |
|
DAY 105
July 4, 2020 Day 105 falls on the 4th of July, the Day the Declaration of Independence was signed in 1776. The Declaration starts as follows: When in the Course of human events, it becomes necessary for one people to dissolve the political bands which have connected them with another, and to assume among the powers of the earth, the separate and equal station to which the Laws of Nature and of Nature’s God entitle them, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they should declare the causes which impel them to the separation. It is interesting that Thomas Jefferson used the words Laws of Nature and Nature’s God. He was clearly reaching beyond the law of the time – reaching for something higher, better, fairer – something that supported what they were doing. There are many interpretations of these words, but I will give you mine. A fundamental thought expressed by Jefferson was derived from the philosopher John Locke who believed that the most basic human law of nature was the preservation of humans – that we have the right to preserve our lives (and those of our children). That is what the founders of the country were about. And now, 244 years later, we find ourselves in a different type of fight – a fight against Covid (which we are not winning right now in Texas or the U.S.), a fight to keep our climate within some concept of manageable (a fight we have not begun to engage in any serious manner) and a fight so that all of us have the same chance at life and living as do some of us (and you have seen how that has played out in the last few months). Different issues than Jefferson’s time but perhaps similar – 244 years later? When we fought for civil rights, against Vietnam and for the environment in the ‘60s, my generation did not get the job done, although we made great progress. Maybe it is time for those of us of the ‘60s to once again lay claim to a higher path, a higher vision. To those of my generation and anyone else who will listen, I say the time for transformative change has come again. We have not been passed by. You and I are relevant if we make it so. So - by God – by Nature – by Earth Church – speak up. And I’m sorry that you have to hide out on this national day of celebration because the country founded 244 years ago has failed at the fundamental task of protecting your life. Blackburn | ||
|
DAY 104
July 3, 2020 Day 104. And today, I’m so proud of Texas. Dan Patrick – our Lt. Governor – is dismissing Dr. Anthony Fauci as someone just making it all up – Dr. Fauci, who has been to my mind the key figure putting out good information in this whole disaster was dissed by our Lt. Governor. And Governor Abbott is not much better - only now, after Texas cases have risen to record highs, does he require masks. Masks are pollution control. They are smart and easy. They are the key to safe, social interaction. I guess all of this causes me great concern about the perception of science. The stepping stone of my career as an environmental lawyer was the M.S. in environmental science I received from Rice right after law school. Over the years, science has offered us some of our greatest breakthroughs but it also can bring us bad news. And our concept of science and reality has evolved – perhaps devolved – into individuals, in the name of personal freedom, rejecting proven science if it is counter to our belief structure or perhaps how we want things to be. That seems to be true of both Covid and climate change, and this trend, if it continues, may lead to the end of the United States as we know it. We must stop this type of uninformed thinking from bubbling to the top of our political process. It is simply beyond understanding to me, yet very real. Tomorrow, I will be presenting a poem about patriotism for the 4th of July, a poem brought to you by a red bird, a white bird and a blue one. Patriotism is worth reflecting upon. More tomorrow. And by all means, don’t go mingling out there. Stay safe. Blackburn. |
| Day 104: Savannah Sparrow |
|
DAY 103
July 2, 2020 Day 103. In this tour through both my memory and this set of birds that captured either mine or Isabelle’s attention, there are several recurrent themes. One of them is Christmas bird counts. We have dozens of Christmas counts up and down the coast, and Texas usually has three or four among the top ten counts for number of species sighted in the United States. More recently, the Mad Island count down in Matagorda County won the honors for Texas and led the nation in 2019 with 237 species in one day, many more birds than we have poems or paintings. I participated once in the Mad Island count (the Eastern Meadowlark, the Osprey poems), but started with the Freeport count and continued on that count for many years. That is where I developed a real passion for the birds along with my discovery of Earth Church. And the really neat thing about these Christmas counts is that they welcome newcomers. You don’t have to be an expert to participate. There are counts all over Harris and adjacent counties. Many need more volunteers to join with them. So I encourage you to open your horizons and go out and search for the birds and find a bird count in which to participate. Houston Audubon Society can help you on this quest this coming December. Now in today’s poem, you will meet the Barn Owl which we met on Garland’s and my first Freeport Christmas Bird Count. This is the same count where we met the Gray Catbird, the Burrowing Owl, the Vermillion Flycatcher, and the Brown Pelican (a rarity at that time) as well as the Savannah Sparrow (Friday’s bird), the Groove-Billed Ani (maybe coming in the future) and the Blue-Gray Gnatcatcher (maybe in the future). I consider those bird counts to be among my best memories of my early birding days. Enjoy the Barn Owl and stay safe. You-know-what is out there. Blackburn. | ||
|
DAY 102
July 1, 2020 Day 102 has arrived and with it comes the blue goose, one of my favorite birds, a bird that brings back many memories. My dad was a neat man who was devoted to me and my sister Ann, as was our mother. He knew I liked hunting and while he was an excellent hunter, he was not really passionate about it. We were living in South Texas in the Rio Grande Valley and my dad was a seed salesman and so he knew a lot of farmers, and he got with some guys from the church who taught him how to hunt geese in the South Texas grain fields so he could take me. We had many fine outings together that were always great fun and camaraderie, and every now and then we would see snows and blues, a real South Texas treat at the time. And then later, when the CB radio craze hit the country, I can still hear my father who drove all over the south with my mom, saying “Breaker one nine – this is the Blue Goose calling”. Why the blue goose? I have no idea. I asked him once and he didn’t know – it just sounded good to him. And the blue goose sounds good to me too. So, enjoy the blue goose today and stay safe. Blackburn |
| Day 102: Blue Goose |
|
DAY 101
June 30, 2020 Well. It’s one day after one hundred days and not much has changed. I had many nice responses to the Bald Eagle, but one really made an impression on me. It had to do with patriotism being appropriated by one group of citizens of the U.S. in a way that has deprived many of us from feeling good about claiming patriotism, and we should not allow patriotism to be hijacked – stolen – taken from many of us. With the bald eagle, I staked my claim to my form of patriotism, a concept that sees us leading the world and not being the bad kid on the block - the bad kid that won’t address carbon, the bad kid that is racist, the bad kid that does not care about the poor and those that cannot help themselves. I believe that we are better than that. And now with Covid – whew. We have less than 5% of the world’s population and 25% of the world’s Covid deaths. Not good. So today, I am writing about being well and staying well, and for me, this means nature. And for those of you that cannot get away to the bay or to the marshes or the forests where I prefer to go, there are multiple local places – our wonderful parks like Hermann Park that I write about today. So get out in nature and get the immunity that nature can offer. It will help. And be safe as well. Blackburn. | ||
|
Day 100
June 29, 2020 Well, we’ve reached 100 days. I have to admit when I started writing this virus vigil I had no real understanding of this virus, and I doubt that many of us did. So – 100 days. What images does 100 days raise for each of you – or perhaps just the words 100 or number 100? The words one hundred – the number 100 – connote many different things. A great book – 100 Years of Solitude. 100 years of age – a landmark that many of us will make at some point in the future if we can avoid Covid, keep our hearts healthy and our minds sharp. 100 – a perfect score on a test. 100 mph – going really fast. There are many more than 100 birds in Texas, but the artist and the poet – while not through yet – have run through a lot of material. I think back to the early days of the vigil when I would do two birds in one day. No longer. Those early days were naive days – days when it seemed that this virus might be controlled before 100 days. Well that was clearly wrong. And I have to say that our leadership has simply been missing in action. This virus encounter – and writing the vigil – have led me to seriously evaluate what it is that we should expect from our government, and it is a lot more than we are getting. Among other things, a government is a safety net – an institution that provides security for us all, and I mean all of us. In the meantime, I’ve chosen our national bird for Day 100. It’s time for the Bald Eagle as a symbol to mean something. Enjoy it and try to keep away from Covid and all of the people who are simply ignoring every piece of good information out there. Blackburn. |
| Day 100: Bald Eagle |
|
DAY 99
June 28, 2020 Hello all. It is Day 99 and I feel confident that we will reach Day 100 tomorrow, which is a lot of bird paintings and poems. Today I am writing about the Royal Tern, and all during writing this poem, I kept flashing back to John Travolta in the film Pulp Fiction talking about a “royale with cheese” with Samuel Jackson. Not sure why that is relevant other than perhaps because I am writing about a “royale tern”, but it sprang to the page today. Today’s poem is a reflection on fighting environmental battles, for they can be rough, and they can leave scars. I consider myself to be an activist and I work with many others in these battles. Lasting friendships come from these fights – great friendships. But sometimes we can grow apart in these battles, that can also take a toll on personal lives. And then if you lose – whew. It really hurts. But my view is that this is what living life is about – part of living life well. You do your best. You do what you can do at the time. And I have found much more often than not that great things can be set in motion by losing. So musing about battles won and lost led to today’s “royale”. And know that Covid is lurking so be safe. Blackburn. | ||
|
DAY 98
June 27, 2020 Well, Camille, one of the great researchers at my firm Sustainable Planning and Design (who along with Jace maintains the virus vigil website at https://www.jimblackburninfo.com/virus-vigil.html), wrote and told me I had fouled up my days again – that yesterday was Day 97 and today is Day 98. 14 weeks of the virus vigil, and we are just now entering our worst stage of the contagion. We are not doing as well in Texas as many third world countries. It is time for a gut check on who we are and what we stand for. That is true on many levels, and we seem to just put up with it. Something needs to be done and soon. I have been getting emails about suing over this Covid situation, and I must admit I am thinking harder about some concept of legal action related to my civil rights being deprived by the incompetence of the government. Now that that rant is out, it’s time to talk about friendship, about what matters in life, about what we are all being deprived of – the hugs of friends and relatives – something I truly value. Today’s poem is about the rose breasted grosbeak, a stunningly beautiful bird, all black and white with a great big splotch of rose on its breast. It is also about friendship – in this case with Bryan and Jane as well as Isabelle our artist and our spouses JC and Garland who went birding by Bluetooth together. Friends are one of the great gifts of life and living. Living life well requires friends and friendships. Enjoy the first poem about friendship and the second about trying to make good choices. And be as safe out there as is possible because it is currently dangerous to be living in Texas – perhaps as dangerous as any place in the U.S. relative to Covid. And that is not good. Blackburn |
| Day 98: Rose Breasted Grosbeak |
|
DAY 97
June 26, 2020 Day 96. Good morning sun (maybe). I was premature with the hello to the sun yesterday and am likely premature today. But if we are alive and there is light, I am comfortable in reporting to you that there is a sun out there somewhere. Now, to the business of today. I want to have a deep, philosophical discussion about Isabelle’s two versions of the Great Horned Owl. On the left, you have the kick-ass owl – the one that knows that he or she rules their domain. But then – how would you characterize the owl on the right? Is that an owl that has had its rear kicked? Is that an owl that is having an bad day? Or is that a “been there, done that” owl? And old pro? Or just an old owl? My brain thinks I am more like the one on the left and my body thinks I am more like that one on the right. But either way, these two owls simply made me smile. Thanks Isabella. And for today’s poems, the first one takes you on an owl prowl. And if you have never been on one, you must figure out how to do one sometime in the future, after we are past our Covid hiding and separation. Owl prowls are simply a great way to spend an evening. So enjoy the poems and do some hooting at Covid. Put on your anti-Covid look like the owl on the left. Blackburn |
| Day 97: Great Horned Owl |
|
DAY 96
June 25, 2020 Hello all. Join with me in welcoming the sun’s light today to show us the way for another day. Today I welcome you to attend an Earth Church ceremony through the poem as well as for real if you get the chance. And as I write this, I am smiling thinking back on my childhood when I would spend much of the summer in central Louisiana. My grandparents were serious Baptists. Late one summer afternoon we got in the car and drove to a tent revival on the banks of a creek near Dry Prong, Louisiana. There was literally a tent with folding chairs set up amidst the pines next to a pretty little creek. I distinctly remember the sandy soil under the chairs. And then the ceremony started, with a lot of hallelujahs, a sweating preaching spouting quite a lot of hellfire and brimstone and damnation, and then, near the end, several of the people in the audience began acting really strange, holding their arms on the bodies, moving up and down in their seats and making really strange noises. I later heard they were talking in tongues (or thought they were). That ceremony made a real impression on a wide-eyed boy of ten years of age. The ceremony in today’s poem is quite different – one of love and appreciation and gratitude, which is where I need to be these days. Enjoy the ceremony and be safe out there. Blackburn | ||
|
DAY 95
June 24, 2020 Well hello again. Today I am the vigilant vigilante on a virus vigil. Or should I just be on the warpath? No, that is the wrong direction – today I am presenting you one of the earliest poems I ever wrote about the Texas coast, and it is truly a heartfelt one. The subject today is the reddish egret, a bird that literally dances across the shallows along the coast, chasing small finfish. It has a wonderful style. It spreads its wings and creates shadows that it uses in its fishing technique. According to one source, the shadows block the sun’s glare on the water, helping the egret better see its prey. But once you have seen the reddish egret dancing on the water, wings spread, dashing here and there, and then striking out with its pink and black bill, well , there is nothing quite like it on the coast, a true delight. Today’s poem is about fishing with a reddish egret, one of the finest experiences I have ever had on the coast. And I relive it every time I see a reddish egret. The last time I saw one was when I saw the brown pelicans when I was rejuvenated at Earth Church, a place I need to return to very soon. Take care and be safe and enjoy the reddish egret. Blackburn. | ||
|
DAY 94
June 23, 2020 Day 94. I am disappointed with Governor Abbott. But let’s turn to something that I can do something about – and that is thinking and writing about living life well. Every day dawns with new opportunity. I love waking up and meeting the sun, perhaps because I have adopted the concepts of gratefulness and humility. I am grateful that I am alive to meet the sun. I am humbled by the many talented people that I encounter every day. I believe that the whole is much, much greater than the sum of the parts. By myself, I am atop the land of nothingness. I am reminded of a computer scientist back in the early days when computers were new, back to the dark ages when card decks were used. He would wax philosophically about losing data, talking wistfully about the land of lost data sets, a place where the lost data sets gathered and waited to be found and retrieved. I think there is a land of lost people – people who have lost the ability to live life well – people who struggle to find meaning in life. I was a resident there at one time and found my way back. Seems like I had to swim for a long while to get back to the mainland with lots of treading water. But in truth, there were others like Garland who threw a life preserver to me and helped to pull me back from that distant land. So – I wake up every day – grateful and humble and happy to be alive and trying as hard as I can to find solutions that will help preserve my church that I discovered in the land of the living - the Earth. The long billed dowitcher is the bird of today and Isabelle’s painting really caught my eye. This is a new one – a special order from the poet to the painter. Thanks Isabelle. And you all be careful out there for Covid lurks. Blackburn. | ||
|
DAY 93
June 22, 2020 Hello all. Welcome to Day 93. I want to introduce today’s bird – the raven – the warrior bird – and talk with you a bit about litigation. I am a trial lawyer who is happily retired, except that I am coming back to put my name on the lawsuit that is being filed today on behalf of the Trinity Edwards Springs Protection Association (TESPA – of which I am President), the Wimberley Valley Watershed Association (WVWA) and two families whose drinking water was ruined by the release of drilling mud from the construction of a pipeline under the Blanco River. The pipeline was being built by Kinder Morgan who had been asked – begged – not to bring the pipeline through the Karst geologic region that is full of underground caves and openings that contain one of the purest underground aquifers in the state – an aquifer that is the sole source of drinking water to a lot of people living in these rural communities. But of course the company knew better than we did, and condemned their right of way and moved forward. Unfortunately, as they were boring under the Blanco River, their driller encountered Karst geology and ultimately discharged 36,000 gallons of drilling mud into this sole source aquifer. I am attaching a photograph of the water from the contaminated water wells that came out of the tap (see beneath the poems) because it is hard to believe that this could occur in this day and time. An aspect of spirituality that I have not discussed much – but which I believe and follow - is that action in support of what one believes is perhaps the ultimate spiritual act. It completes the painting, to borrow from Isabelle. So today when you look upon Isabelle’s marvelous raven and read these poems, think about what action you might be willing to take in support of, and perhaps to fulfill, your spirituality. And be safe out there. The seven day trend on Covid cases is the worst ever for Texas and Harris County. Blackburn. | ||
|
DAY 92
June 21, 2020 It is Day 92 of this vigil – far longer than I ever thought it would extend. Today I want to discuss water and spirituality because they are intertwined in my head and heart. Like with carbon, water has a natural cycle – a pathway developed by nature where water comes from the sky as rain, moves either into our groundwater or flows overland to our creeks and rivers and then flows to the ocean to be evaporated and return again – the hydrologic cycle. Like the carbon cycle, it is magical – nature’s gift to us if we are only smart enough to recognize it and properly use it – potentially a gift that keeps on giving but we don’t get it yet – don’t get it to the point that we are using too much, destroying the life which depends upon this magical cycle that slakes the thirst of our herds, our wildlife and ourselves, keeps our riverine critters alive and then sweetens the bays so that they can be the nursery for the oceans, producing shrimp and crabs, reds and trout, whooping cranes and sea turtles. At some point, this concept of the natural cycle becomes spiritual – the stuff of life – the stuff of living - and it is our duty as stewards of the Earth – as parishioners of Earth Church – as believers in the Christian concept of the Trinity with Earth as the manifestation of the Holy Spirit - to protect this spiritual cycle, to honor it and keep it whole. So, go open your tap and take a drink and enjoy a spiritual moment when you consciously interact with this spiritual cycle. With the right attitude, that taste will transform your day. And enjoy the wild turkey which we enjoy up in Wimberley. And be safe. Blackburn. | ||
|
DAY 91
June 20, 2020 Hello all. Today is day 91, a good day to hide from the virus - a good day to contemplate about why our virus numbers are simply out of control and what that means to you. Garland and I spent Thursday helping my sister with some house cleaning over in Beaumont and I was fortunate to see both an anhinga flying across IH-10 just east of the Trinity River bridge and a swallow-tailed kite flying above the pine trees in her neighborhood. It was a long hard day, but those two birds carried me through the day with an infusion of joy. That type of experience is the stuff of poetry – good stuff for the mind and soul. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again - we all need help making it through these hard times - hard times psychologically, hard times physically (particularly if you happen to encounter the virus). Worrying about getting the virus will work on your head, and if you are worried about it or just need to talk about it, ask someone for help. And also you might consider asking someone if you can help them in some way. So that is my message for today – ask for help if you need it and ask to help someone if you are able. This is unlike anything we’ve seen, and it will leave a scar as will our political failures and choices. Today’s bird – the ferruginous hawk – was there to offer help to me when I asked for it years ago, and I am fortunate that I learned to ask for help from both the birds and my human friends as well. So be safe and ASK for help. Blackburn. | ||
|
DAY 90
June 19, 2020 Well, the bunny is continuing his march across the coastal landscape, today visiting Matagorda Bay, one of the least known treasures of the Texas coast. But first to Covid. You know – I am getting tired of this mask issue. I’m an environmental lawyer and I have worked on pollution control my whole career – water pollution, air pollution, hazardous waste. And it’s interesting – laws had to be passed because polluters were unwilling to control themselves. And now think about a mask. What is a mask other than a form of pollution control – a way to keep me from contaminating you with my personal droplets that I expel when talking or shouting or sneezing or coughing. We simply are facing a new form of pollution and need Covid pollution control, e.g. a mask. Has anyone heard of masks being discussed as a form of pollution control? It is not different than a filter on a waste stream, except that rather than forcing a corporation to do it, the polluter is each of us. Now, back to enjoying Matagorda Bay, the scene of today’s poem. Matagorda Bay may have some of the most beautiful marshes of any bay on the Texas coast and today’s poem is about one of the finest moments I have enjoyed on this fine bay. And by the way – it looks like the Matagorda Bay Foundation of which I am on the board is about to protect in perpetuity a lovely piece of property on the north shoreline that you will hear more about soon. Stay safe and wear your mask, you polluters. Blackburn. | ||
|
DAY 89
June 18, 2020 Well, I feel a bit like the Energizer Bunny, just beating my drum and marching along, 89 days and counting. And today Isabelle and I feature the catbird – a bird that I truly enjoy, perhaps because of the experience described in the first poem. Today I want to lighten up a bit and talk about music and poetry. I have found I really enjoy riding in my car on errands – something that I used to think of as a pain is now a source of joy on a good day, a way of escaping Covid servitude. I was listening to some of the songs I like today in the car and really got a kick out of Ray Wylie Hubbard’s great anthem titled “Snake Farm” which is a form of Texas poetry. “Snake farm, it just sounds nasty, Snake farm, it pretty much is, Snake farm, it's a reptile house, Snake farm, ugh”. Now there is a song for driving along IH-35 between Austin and San Antonio where I believe there is a snake farm, and Ray Wylie nailed it. Ugh. What rhymes with ugh? I also listened to a truly great poet, Kris Kristofferson, singing Me and Bobby McGee, which has one of the best lines that I have ever heard when he says that he’s “Feelin’ nearly faded as my jeans”. Now that is ok. So I am humbled to continue offering a few lines of Texan poetry to you guys who have been loyally reading this stuff, with a tip of the hat to Ann Hamilton, the Tough Old Bird, who helps me sort through the good and less good poems. To catch up on the other 88 days, remember you can go to https://www.jimblackburninfo.com/virus-vigil.html and find a full virus vigil inventory. For now, be safe out there and if I were you, I’d avoid the snake farms for now. Blackburn | ||
|
DAY 88
June 17, 2020 Hello all. It is Day 88, and I am getting angry all over again, but I promised I would be up in today’s message. Up. Not down. Smiling. Not frowning. What I wonder is how intelligent people can get us into such a mess, and also why intelligent people allow it to happen? But enough of that down thinking. Let’s think up. How about this. I believe Houston is on the verge of becoming the carbon dioxide solution center of the world. No joke. I really believe that it is possible. We have the ideas and we have the ability to make some very interesting things happen. Part of the solution is the press release I sent out with companies like Sprint Waste beginning to pay landowners to store carbon dioxide that these companies emit. Part of it will come from developing a new soil storage standard like we are working on at Baker Institute at Rice. And part of it will be in paying ranchers to restore prairies and store massive amounts of carbon dioxide in the ranchlands of the United States. The United States must begin to act, and the place for that to happen is Houston. How about that for UP thinking? And it could actually happen. Enjoy today’s bird, the burrowing owl, a neat owl that lives with the prairie dogs on the High Plains but also can be found in this part of the world as well. And be safe out there. Blackburn. |
| Day 88: Burrowing Owl |
|
DAY 87
June 16, 2020 Day 87. I want to talk a bit about endangered species today along with Hill Country water. The concept of endangered species is a tough topic when the species becomes pitted against jobs, but as I have found in so many cases, it does not have to be either/or. With a bit of creativity and a bit a humility and perhaps by spending a bit more money, most of these conflicts can be solved. But it takes intentionality and will power to get there. I have found over the years that it is often simply easier to choose to fight. It is almost unbelievable the grief that comes to those who try to find solutions among warring camps. I have found my way through these briar patches many times, but I have been punctured and have lost a bit of blood many times. On the other hand, it is a great honor and responsibility to be able to represent a species that is in danger of being eradicated from this church that is the Earth – a parishioner banished for no reason other than they got in the way of humans. As you know, I have fought for the whooping cranes, the highlight of my legal career. But there are also many other species that need help and that I have tried to protect from a legal perspective – the Kemp’s ridley sea turtle and piping plover of the coast, the golden-cheeked warbler and the black-capped vireo of the Hill Country, and several different endangered mussels in Hill Country rivers, mussels that need clean water so that they can breed and prosper. And before you give me a hard time about protecting mussels, didn’t Noah have two pairs of all living creatures that he put on the ark, mussels included? And before you spend a lot of time trying to answer that question, have a good day and stay away from the virus. Blackburn |
| Day 87: Black-capped Vireo |
|
DAY 86
June 15, 2020 Hello all. Day 86 has arrived, and the vigil will focus on the Hill Country water problems for a few days this week. And by the way, reaching out and connecting with each other – the concept behind these messages – is very important. Loneliness and isolation are not good. We need to look after one another, particularly as it looks like we will need to hunker down again, given the virus numbers. In the meantime, my concerns about the state of the groundwater of the Texas Hill Country just keep getting magnified. The Texas Hill Country is the playground of Texas. There is nothing quite like swinging from a rope and dropping into the cold water of the Guadalupe or Blanco or Llano or Frio or Sabinal or Nueces Rivers of the Hill Country. And the reason these rivers are so wonderful is that they are, in part, fed by clear, cool springs that flow up through the karst limestone that underlies this region. Jacob’s Well is a spring that creates Cypress Creek in Wimberley that flows into the Blanco. The Comal Springs in New Braunfels form the Comal River which is famous for tubing. The San Marcos Springs create the San Marcos River that is also famous for tubing and canoeing. And this pattern extends back into the headwaters of many of our key central Texas rivers. These springs are fueled by the groundwater that flows through the fissures and caves of the karst limestone, and if this groundwater is diminished by greed, by too many straws sucking it out, we will kill the wonderland that is the Texas Hill Country in the summer, a true chapel in the church of the Earth. Today’s bird – the Screech Owl – inhabits the Hill Country as well as the coast, and today I will share a conversation about standing up and fighting to protect this water which we are trying to do through an organization we formed called the Trinity Edward Springs Protection Association (TESPA) which is fighting a big commercial groundwater well field and is preparing to sue over recent contamination of the Trinity Aquifer near Blanco. Stay tuned for more and avoid that nasty virus. Blackburn | ||
|
DAY 85
June 14, 2020 Hello all. It is Day 85. In these trying times, I delight in finding creative niches to exploit and paths to walk. When I feel frayed and panicked, I try for pathways to calmness. I think this is part of what “living life well” is about – keeping an internal balance, finding a way through the thickets and briars of life with a smile and a good attitude. It is not that all is rosy. It is that I choose to try to find a path to inner peace amidst the chaos, and that is where Earth Church and its inhabitants are so important, and so wonderful. Today I want to introduce you to my guru, the lesser goldfinch, an absolutely striking black and yellow fellow that is an incredible sight against a cloudless blue sky and green oaks and cedar. Think of a splotch of black and yellow painted onto that blue and green landscape, or perhaps just gaze on that beautiful bird that Isabelle has painted that sits atop a purple thistle. And then think further on the wonder of life, of who and what we are, and just relish the vastness – relish our absolute inability to fathom it all. Enjoy that which we cannot fully know for that is a part of what living life well is all about. And keep safe out there. Covid lurks. Blackburn. |
| Day 85: Lesser Goldfinch |
|
DAY 84
June 13, 2020 Today is day 84 – twelve weeks of daily communication with the group of you out there. I have become closer to an amazing number of you who are receiving these daily messages which was an initial goal – to reach out and stay in touch during these times of separation. It’s been great for me and I hope for you as well. Today I want to talk a bit about being an environmental lawyer and karma. It’s not all a bed of roses being a trial lawyer. Back in 2004, I had heart surgery. My internist found the problem before I had a heart attack and sent me to a cardiologist who ran a dye test that showed serious blockage, and I was being operated on three hours later by a wonderful surgeon at Texas Heart Institute whom I had never met before he operated on me. Later, in my hospital room, the heart surgeon was being very difficult to talk to – evasive, no eye contact. I tried to joke, and he was really unresponsive, just in and out. So, I asked the cardiologist when he dropped by what the problem was and he smiled and said that the cardiologist had found out that I was a trial lawyer and was not excited about interacting with me. So, the next time the heart surgeon dropped by, I explained to him that I was a “birds and bunnies” lawyer, and he and I had some great conversations after that moment, so there is a moral to that story – be an environmental trial lawyer. Today’s poem is an attempt to lighten up the tone of the vigil although the Covid story out there in the real world is getting worse very fast. But for today, forget about it, and read a poem about a true event (mostly) about karma coming around to bite the fisherman up in the Hill Country. And be safe. Blackburn. | ||
|
DAY 83
June 12, 2020 It’s Day 83 and we are going to the Texas Hill Country for today’s poem and art work about a bird called the Scrub Jay, a relative of the blue jay but with a different shade of blue, a real character of the cedar oak forest that I enjoy so much. Today’s poem is about climate change and innocence, a topic that stirs my soul from an equity – a fairness – standpoint. I hate it when innocent people and innocent things suffer from the negligence – from the absence of care in others. We are taught in law school that we all have a general duty to use reasonable care, a duty I carry over to the natural world, a duty I often sought to enforce in my environmental law practice. I have always hated bullies – those that knock others around simply because they could. One of the nice things about being a trial lawyer is that it offers the chance to take on the bullies in court where the weak have a fighting chance. Today’s poem is about protecting the innocent – protecting those that have done nothing wrong but will be affected by climate change – the innocent victims. And here, the courts are unlikely to be of assistance because the issue is too big. Instead, this war will be won by frame-breaking strategies, the pursuit of which will define the last segment of my professional and personal life. This is a battle that I urge you to join – a fight for the future – for the birds – for the children – for the innocent. It is a battle that we must fight for the Earth and the scrub jay that I love to hear in the Hill Country of Texas. Be safe out there. It’s actually getting worse here in Texas, something else to get angry about. Blackburn. | ||
|
DAY 82
June 11, 2020 Day 82 and the vigil continues. Today I want to continue discussing living life well, a topic I come back to every now and then. On my way to quitting drinking, one thing I learned was to ask for help. Now – on one level – how hard can it be to ask for help? You open your mouth and you say the words “I need help”. But when you open your mouth and those words try to form, a whole load of baggage weighs down the tongue. I was taught that “when the going gets tough, the tough get going”, that you “pick yourself up by your bootstraps”, that “a man is a man”. And while there are grains of truth and ideas of importance in each of those sayings, they also proved to be dead ends that offer little assistance in addressing important problems in modern life. Today as I observe our situation with race relations, with Covid, and with climate, it is clear that there is help out there to address these issues if we only ask for it. There are people who really understand these issues and have ideas that can help to solve them. But we also have to be open to hearing the responses. That is the other side of asking for help – we need to listen and be open to the solutions. This is one of the many lessons I learned during the hard times of my late 30s. And here is a poem about that concept and a wonderful little bird that most of us know called the killdeer. Be safe out there. Blackburn |
| Day 82: Killdeer |
|
DAY 81
June 10, 2020 Day 81. Many of you have inquired about the basis of the spirituality that you hear in my work and see in Isabelle’s. Each of us reached our connections with birds and nature along different pathways that converged in a wonderful partnership many years ago. As I have mentioned before, although I grew loving the outdoors, my spiritual pathway became clear when I stopped drinking and got sober, a task that seemed monumental in the mid-1980s when I quit. Along the way there were many pivotal steps that would never have happened without the continued love and support of my wife Garland. One such pivotal moment is described in today’s poem – a poem about the dickcissel, another seed-eating bird of the grasslands of the central and eastern United States – a bird that I met in an art class during the time when I was transitioning from drinking to not. The prairies are an underrated and poorly appreciated ecosystem - important habitat for many of our songbirds and heavily impacted by plowing and conversion to cropland and by over-grazing. As you read this poem today, you might understand my spiritual attachment to these birds a bit better and why I constantly raise the concept of carbon sequestration and nature-based solutions. My spirituality is intricately tied to the success of the spring migration and the availability of nesting sites when the birds return. I can help both of these needs by establishing nature-based carbon sequestration as common practice. The decision to act to remove one’s personal or corporate footprint and store it in nature should become considered as just the way we do things - a fact of life - a requirement for survival – evolutionary – adaptive – necessary if we are to “keep the garden”. It simply must be that way if we and they are to survive. I hope you enjoy the dickcissel. Blackburn. |
| Day 81: Dickcissel |
|
DAY 80
June 9, 2020 Here on Day 80, I have no doubt that we are living in a unique time, unlike any I have lived through. And in keeping with the concept of living life well, we all need to really absorb these moments in time. Of course we are raw. We have been confined for almost three months. Our social and economic worlds have been upended. There are no sports to keep some of us busy. There are no live performances of music and the arts. Our culture has been upended. We need to pay attention to this all because it is historic – how we got here, what we are going to do get out of this - the stuff of history. And in the midst of this mess, we must address carbon dioxide and climate. We have already had three named storms – storms that are fueled by the heat of the ocean, which is increasing each year as is the temperature of the planet. We must do something and do something soon if we care about the world that future generations will inherit. If you do care, then consider joining the movement to store your carbon footprint in the soil or timber of the Texas coast. Go to https://www.texascoastalexchange.org/ and make a donation to cover your carbon footprint. Or as today’s bird – the lovely indigo bunting would say – leave your tithe in the collection plate of Earth Church. Enjoy the poem and the art and the lovely indigo bunting that is truly a gift to us all. Blackburn |
| Day 80: Indigo Bunting |
|
DAY 79
June 8, 2020 Today I am happy to bring you the clapper rail, a bird of the marsh, a shy bird that I was recently told cannot see that well, and that if you are quiet and still when one does emerge before you, you may be able to see it for a bit longer. I love the sound of the rail in the marsh, a lighter and higher, more ethereal, clucking, reminiscent of, but different than, a chicken. Secretive. Furtive even, showing wisdom in staying away from us. Reminding me that we humans are a strange species – high end predators that have escaped many of the bonds of the ecosystem within which we evolved, evolved in ways beyond those necessary for survival, evolved in ways that allow assertion of domination without limits, without responsibility, evolved beyond the natural controls of nature, yet today finding ourselves vulnerable to an invisible enemy. Interesting karma at work, according to my friends in the bird world. Covid - a disease that seems to be limited to humans, testing our ability to respond quickly, effectively, raising the question about our life style that offers easy transmission, making one wonder about getting away from the crowd, getting back to basics like growing your own food, detached and away, a solution that has been pursued by the lovely clapper rail. So as you read this poem, think about how full of hubris we are about our excellence, our control, our domination, and realize that this might be a misimpression, an error, a wrong direction. Or so the clapper rail tells me. Be safe out there. Blackburn. |
| Day 79: Clapper Rail |
|
DAY 78
June 7, 2020 Well, I did it again. I fouled up on my days. Today is Day 78. There have been too many, with many more to come. Our virus numbers are going up, in case you have not been looking. The seven-day average is not looking good for the state or for Harris County. Not good at all. And we have to come to grips with racism in the midst of this, or perhaps because we are raw and are ready to take on hard issues. As I have mentioned, I spent my summers in central Louisiana on the Baptist side of the Cocodrie Swamp, a place that seemed magical to me, a young white boy. But some images are stark from the middle 1950s – the cross burning on the side of the road that we passed coming back after a long day at the creek at an aunt’s cabin – the story about my Uncle L.E. having a cross burned in his yard because he chose his own course and did not go with the “boys” – the dairy queen with the colored windows. This was the old south that we had supposedly left behind after the 1960s, but these are the times that bring out the worst – and hopefully the best - in all of us. We must move forward – with the fight against racism, with a better, fairer economic system that addresses climate change, and with proper respect for others in this time of Covid. I had an employee at a store today thank me for wearing a mask because he felt safer serving us when people wear masks. Masks are not political statements. They are about other people’s rights to be free from my germs which is common courtesy, something we are losing. The current discourse is about life and living – and how to live life - just as sure as my poems of nature are about life and living. We can and must do better on many levels. So let’s get on with it and enjoy the Chachalaca, a raucous bird of the thornbrush country. Blackburn. |
| Day 78: Chachalaca |
|
DAY 77
June 6, 2020 Hello all. Welcome to Day 77, and the virus remains amongst us, a pesky little devil that won’t go away. So as always, I turn to nature for respite, for sanctuary. I like to wade or kayak into the marsh, to hear the rail clucking like the chicken of the marsh, or to see the ibis and herons and egrets of all types. Today I am remembering the back side of the Matagorda Peninsula, a barrier island with about thirty miles of marsh and channels cut by storms over many, many centuries – over geologic time. My friend and mentor in things geologic – Dr. H.C. Clark, a.k.a. “The Doctor” – is getting really excited right now reading this because I am on his turf – a barrier island, an active geological process, a sand body rising between the bay and the Gulf, fronted by the surf and beach with these backside channels or bayous being the proof of the power of past big storms. And on occasion when you enter these rarified places, you may be fortunate enough to experience something that reaches deep into your psyche and grabs your soul and leaves a lasting impression. Such was the occasion of today’s poem about a bird that I never could identify, but one that nonetheless affected me profoundly, and about a barrier island that is - in the both the physical and metaphysical sense - a sanctuary. Take care and be safe and enjoy. Blackburn. |
| Day 77: Unknown Warbler |
|
DAY 76
June 5, 2020 Hello all. I am still enjoying an afterglow from the Women’s Institute presentation that Isabelle and I did called “Coffee with Isabelle and Jim”. It was really fun for us, and those that wrote in questions and later comments seemed to enjoy it as well. The questions were interesting, and many seemed curious about the spiritual side of our work. For me, it is cathartic to talk publicly about spirituality, something many of us feel reluctant to discuss for many reasons. I think we have often failed to understand and talk honestly about spirituality. Many feel constrained by bonds real or imagined. I respect the views of others on spiritual matters, and try to inform myself from them. If we were more willing to talk about these issues, I think we would be healthier as a society, and I know from personal experience that the discovery and exploration of my spirituality made me healthier. We all should be liberated to find our spiritual way, and I recommend nature to you. Today’s poem is simply about being amazed at nature – enjoying life being lived by another species – and relishing the experience. There is a freedom, a purity, to appreciation as part of spiritual expression. Awe and humility with love and understanding. Nice. So – enjoy the green-winged teal, an amazing bird that can fly with the best of them - beautiful with the male’s green and red head and both genders with the beautiful green on their wings. And be safe out there. This virus is still out there and dangerous. Blackburn |
| Day 76:Green-winged Teal |
|
DAY 75
June 4, 2020 Hello all. Welcome to Day 75, and it looks like we have a storm in the Gulf. Great. Covid and a storm. I’ve been researching storms and climate and carbon for a long time now, and I am amazed that we are not more vigilant about the relationship between carbon emissions and the frequency of our storms and the strength of our storms. There may never have been a better job of using media against science than has been done on climate. Our first international treaty on climate change dates back to 1992, almost thirty years ago. Admittedly, we did not know then what we know now, but we knew enough to enact an international treaty which is no small task. Since then, the U.S. has not done very much at all. And I want to say that I think both scientists and the environmental community share some of the blame. Our scientists do not believe that they are in a war over the veracity of their work. If they publish it in a journal, they are often satisfied, failing to understand that that is only the first step toward good policy - that science has to be defended and the policies have to be won in hard battles. Science and truth do not emerge when the media gives paid sycophants equal billing with Nobel prize winners. And then there are environmental groups that are thinking as we thought in the 1970s when the movement first gained momentum. Those were great days and important concepts but they are fifty years old. It is time for new thinking, and there is good new thinking out there – thinking that will lead to carbon farming and the oil and gas industry and other emitters creating jobs and a different economy from solving their – and our – problem. So – there are good options, but we are still moving too slowly, so I say CAW – CAW – CAW, it’s time to act. And be safe out there. Blackburn. | ||
|
Day 74
June 3, 2020 Hello all. Welcome to the past, for I feel that I am reliving the ‘60s. Today’s poem is about enough which joins the word change as the two most difficult words in the English language. ENOUGH – I’ve had enough of what our country is becoming. We are better than this, and we have to stand up for what is right. Today, we are facing a racial crisis, a Covid crisis, a climate crisis and an economic crisis. And I think it is topped off with a great big red cherry – a crisis of the soul – the spiritual wasteland that we have to address. ENOUGH. I’ve had enough. Today’s poem was written about our spiritual and consumptive selves – too little of one and too much of another. Responsible consumption is one key to the future. How much do we need? When do we have enough? At what point do I push back from the metaphorical table? To my mind, excessive consumption is a flaw that exists at the center of our current concept of economy. I watch as we try to fight the Covid “war” by getting people back out and consuming, whether we need the product or not, whether people are still getting sick or not. I remember President George W. Bush urging people to go out and buy something after 911. Our concept of fighting wars is to consume to keep our economy going, and our consumption emits the pollutant that changes our climate. ENOUGH. Enough madness. Stop it and listen to nature’s siren song. Today’s bird is the curlew, a lovely bird of grasslands and salt flats that I see on the shores of the Matagorda Peninsula – a unique bird with a heavy load of a bill that it carries with dignity. The curlew joins with me in urging that we need to seriously consider this concept of ENOUGH, because the time to do something has ripened in front of our eyes in this reprise of he ‘60s which I might add was among the most difficult (and most stimulating) of my life. And be safe. And by the way, I’ve also had enough of this virus. Blackburn |
| Day 74: Curlew |
|
DAY 73
June 2, 2020 Yep. Here we are. Day 73. And today we’ll take a break from the virus and go kayaking down on Matagorda Bay to escape from the reality of these last few days. I don’t know how many of you know much about Matagorda Bay but it is simply one of the best kept secrets on the Texas coast. I have spent a lot of time around the mouth of the Colorado River near the town of Matagorda fishing with my friend Al Garrison and Team 11 in the marshes west of Matagorda along the north shoreline all the way to Oyster Lake south of Palacios and across the bay along the Matagorda Peninsula. The Matagorda Bay system has some of the nicest coastal marsh of any of our bays. And of course there is a story about the Colorado River and the splitting of Matagorda Bay into two bays – East Matagorda Bay and what is generally just called Matagorda Bay. Back in the early 1900s, there was a log jam on the Colorado north of the town of Matagorda that was backing water up and trapping sediment and impeding navigation. Starting in about 1925, the locals began opening a channel through this log jam and then dynamited the log jam in 1929, an act followed by a big flood that dumped water filled with mud and logs into the north side of the bay, eventually creating a land mass all the way across the bay through which a channel eventually was dug, connecting the river directly to the Gulf. In the early 1990s, the decision was made to divert the Colorado River back into Matagorda Bay to bring freshwater directly into the bay. In the process, another delta was formed on either side of the river flow into the bay – an area lined with dead trees and limbs sticking up out of the water – trees that are used by literally thousands of water birds – terns and gulls, roseates, great blue herons, egrets of all types, frigate birds and ospreys, among others. It is a truly interesting and neat place and very wild. Many of our coastal bays are wild from Matagorda south, but don’t overlook Matagorda for fishing and birding. It is simply great. Years ago, the Matagorda Bay Foundation was formed to protect Matagorda Bay. Today I’m the President of that fine organization, and we have a wonderful executive director named Bill Balboa who is busy trying to restore oyster reefs and wetlands around the bay. I ask you to please consider donating a dollar or two to this organization. The web site is https://matbay.org/. We are trying to purchase and set aside a beautiful wetland tract on the north shoreline near Matagorda. And in the meantime, be safe out there. Blackburn. | ||
|
DAY 72
June 1, 2020 Hello all. I read a great article Sunday in the NY Times by Thomas Friedman, one of my favorite writers on the economy and climate change and the future. His piece is titled “How We Broke the World”, https://www.nytimes.com/2020/05/30/opinion/sunday/coronavirus-globalization.html?referringSource=articleShare, and he makes some interesting and important points. The takeaway is that we have experienced crises of varying intensity since 911 and rather than making good use of science and data-gathering and planning, we have been undone by short-term thinking, greed and lack of leadership. The bottom line is that while we are struggling to find a vaccine for Covid, we are looking into the barrel of a gun called climate change – a crisis for which we have a vaccine. All we have to do is inoculate ourselves by increasing renewables, minimizing hydrocarbon usage and capturing and storing carbon. This is not hard to evaluate, analyze or understand. It is, however, hard to do because it involves change, one of the most difficult words in our language, and it requires long-term thinking rather than short-term gain. As you might have figured out, this topic is one that I spend a lot of time researching and working on. You will be hearing more about this. 😊 Today’s bird is the ruby-crowned kinglet, a little bird that moves around a lot, making it hard to view. And I think that this is one of Isabelle’s better artistic efforts so I have blown it up below. Keep in mind that you can join us for a free program from the Women’s Institute at 10 a.m. on Thursday. And those of you who are registered, if there is a particular poem that you want read or a painting you would like to see discussed, just email me. No promises, but we will see how this works out. The web site to register for the free poetry and art presentation is https://reg126.imperisoft.com/WIH/ProgramDetail/3432353236/Registration.aspx. If you have trouble registering, just email me and I will get you registered. And as always, be safe out there. Blackburn. | ||
|
DAY 71
May 31, 2020 Hello again. It’s Day 71. Things have been pretty strange ever since Garland and I returned from Egypt to encounter the shutdown of our system in mid-March, and now the country is trying to reverse the economic consequences that ensued. There are many important takeaways from the sequence of events that unfolded. I am perhaps most interested in understanding our economy and how vulnerable certain sectors are, like air travel, meat packing and traditional retail. I am perhaps even more interested in what this Covid crisis means to us individually. I have to think that this event has shaken the foundations of our belief in our institutional structure to protect us, which is, after all, one of the most important functions of government and institutions of all types. I think that many of us have realized that we do not need many of the things that we used to consider as necessities. We live in a society where we are constantly bombarded with images of how we should look, how we should act, what things we should possess. What we seem to end up doing is pursuing a life that has been mapped out for us by someone else, the pathway lit with advertising and glitter. What we don’t know is how to actually live life for ourselves on our own terms, which is a concept I work on daily. Today’s poem attempts to explore this issue of self-realization and living life on one’s terms, and I have called upon the Carolina chickadee to help me explore these issues. This bird is a great little character, one that I see all the time in the Texas Hill Country where it is a constant companion, one that I am always happy to see. And of course be safe out there. Blackburn. |
| Day 71: Carolina Chickadee |
|
DAY 70
May 30, 2020 Hello all. Welcome to Day 70. As you may have figured out, my day count relates to how many days I have been sending out this vigil which is a different number from the date of official orders to stay at home which pre-date my decision to start this vigil, which has been a great adventure for me so far. Thank you all for sticking with this. I hope you have gotten as much out of this as I have gotten putting it out, and I’m not through yet. And don’t forget, there is a free webcast with Isabelle talking about her art and me reading poems and talking about the vigil on June 4 at 10 a.m. that is offered through the Women’s Center. If you wish to listen to us, you can register at https://reg126.imperisoft.com/WIH/ProgramDetail/3432353236/Registration.aspx and if you have trouble registering, just email me and I will make sure you are included. Today’s bird is the white pelican, a bird that can be quite brutal as attested to by the piece offered by Brent Ortego about white pelicans feeding with cormorants, a story that did not end well for the cormorants. To me, white pelicans are about fishing. They are fabulous fishing birds, and as one of today’s poems relates, I have enjoyed fishing success following the white pelican. In thinking about that situation set out in the poem, it was mystical, but then as you know, I get that way when I am in nature. Nature is so pure. No politicians telling lies. No corporations spouting half-truths. No spiritual leaders covering up deceit and malfeasance. It is that purity that makes nature such a spiritual haven for me. And I might add, I have taken a bit of license as I have combined two events that occurred at two different places into one poem set at one place. The rattlesnake event was actually from Rattlesnake Point in Christmas Bay, but it was something to behold. And never doubt that there are snakes on our coastal islands – not in the salt marsh but in the dunes and the high ground. So enjoy my tribute to the nice white pelican that I like so much, and watch out for snakes and that pesky virus. Both will pop you. Blackburn | ||
|
DAY 69
May 29, 2020 Day 69. I am writing from my porch office which is one of the really nice aspects of this social separation reality. I am enjoying working and zooming and writing looking out on my flowering plants and the bees working them – watching the yellow-crowned night heron drop in – listening to the jays carrying on about something or another. There is a community out here that I have generally been ignoring in my daily life. That is one really nice result of this social distancing, but I must admit that I make an effort to find positives rather than dwell on negatives. There are positives, and I’m working on discovering them and appreciating them. Today’s bird is the yellow warbler, a migrant that I saw a year or so ago down at South Padre. Seeing it reminded me of a trip to Belize when I first saw the yellow warbler in its winter habitat. I am struck by how neat it is that a bird can winter in Central and South America and summer in the northern U.S. and Canada and share space with me in between during the migration. If you stop and think about these small birds traveling thousands of miles from winter to summer homes and back again without a car, without airplanes, you have to be impressed. I am convinced that the time will come when humans stand along the coast and welcome our migrant birds, helping them along the way, cheering their success – a migration celebration. We dismiss too easily the marvels of nature. That is one reason I enjoy my spiritual connection – it helps me be appreciative, to be humble. In comparison to the journey of the yellow warbler, what have I done? Enjoy the poem and Isabelle’s beautiful warbler and be safe out there. We have not vanquished the virus yet. Blackburn. |
| Day 69: Yellow Warbler |
|
DAY 68
May 28, 2020 Day 68. So – let’s talk Covid for a moment. We surpassed 100,000 deaths in the U.S. this week, a black mark on the reputation of the United States. Why are we are not leading the world in smart responses to the virus? Why do we seem not to care? I think there are ways to re-open businesses safely. I understand the needs of those without income. I have had construction workers ask me why I – as an environmental lawyer – wanted to shut their jobs down? I did not want that outcome. I was fighting for environmental improvement, and they were told that I was trying to destroy jobs, so I have been acutely aware of this issue in the environmental setting. Now, the same story is playing out in the health arena. We do not have to choose. We can have both, but we have to be smart, which returns me to the first point. Today’s bird is the Little Blue Heron, a smallish wading bird I usually see in freshwater wetlands rather than the coastal marsh. And the topic today is stewardship, which, I believe, relates to the topic of Covid and jobs as well as environmental protection. A good steward takes care of its home, its flock. The creek in the poem needed to be protected, and all of us needd to be protected from Covid. Sometimes those in charge are more concerned with making money or pursuing ego than taking care of those that depend upon them as stewards. Sometimes someone needs to stand up and demand better. Be safe out there. And on a lighter note, one of our readers went to high school with me and after I wrote about the cardinal, she wrote to remind me that Harlingen’s mascot was the cardinal and then sent me the attached image of a cardinal football player in his senior year. Made me laugh – hope it makes you laugh whenever you see a real cardinal. Blackburn. |
| Day 68: Little Blue Heron |
|
DAY 67
May 27, 2020 Hello all. Day 67, but who’s counting. Having fun yet? I must tell you – sometimes the correspondence I get is just amazing. Consider this email from Brent Ortego, an excellent birdwatcher who I have admired for years. In response to my writing about the cormorant, he offered the following tale which I must relate to all of you. Thank you Brent. Cooperative/competitive feeding [the subject of the Day 66 poem]. Always interesting to watch. There are many examples in nature. Seems to be more common with water birds. With the DCCO [double crested cormorant], I frequently think of an associate - the white pelican. It is frequently competitive and the birds often recognize there are opportunities in large mixed flocks for both. About 30 years ago, TPWD [Texas Parks and Wildlife Department] was dealing with cormorant issues on inland lakes. They got a call about dozens of dead cormorants washing ashore. Suspecting foul play, wardens examined the birds. All had broken necks. How did the cormorants break their necks? Puzzled. Flocks were watched foraging. Cormorants were great at catching fish below the surface, but the pelicans could not reach deeper than ~4 feet. Solution, pelican waits for cormorants to surface and grabs the head with the fish and shakes. Now, that is an amazing, if harsh, story, a variation on the Japanese fisherman using cormorants, but not nearly as sustainable. I dare not ask Isabelle to paint such an image. Now – to today’s bird – let me introduce you to the vermilion flycatcher, simply one of the most beautiful birds that we have on the coast. Today you will visit Chambers County and then we are back to South Texas for another poem from the same trip that gave me the bittern poem that started us off back at Day 1. Take care out there and enjoy today’s offering. Blackburn. |
| Day 67: Vermillion Flycatcher |
|
DAY 66
May 26, 2020 Hello all. Day 66 is upon us. Memorial Day has come and gone. And now we’ll see what the virus does. Apart from a vaccine, my hope is that the virus cannot handle hot weather, and hot weather is upon us, so maybe that’s the silver lining in this year’s heat. Today’s bird is the double-crested cormorant, a bird that is a great fishing machine, enough so that the Japanese put nooses around their necks and send them down to collect fish which they cannot get into their stomachs and instead bring them up for the fisherman to put in the basket for the market. If you are interested, you can google cormorant fishing in Japan and get some interesting videos. I was impressed. Cormorants are abundant in the winter in ponds and along the coast. Also today I want to present the third installment of Isabelle talking about her art, and I have included another of her more spiritual pieces at the end. Now be safe out there. Blackburn. “Time flies when I am in my studio…probably because I am totally present to the process. Making things is something I have to do. I guess it is in my DNA. My favorite quote from Emily Dickinson is “Hope is the thing that perches in the soul, and sings the tune without the words, and never stops at all”. My hope is for peace, respect, and connection with all living things.” |
| Day 66: Double-Crested Cormorant |
|
DAY 65
May 25, 2020 Today I am writing about the Ruddy Turnstone, another bird of the beach and rocks and groins, a lovely patterned bird that stands out from the plain sanderling I often see with the turnstone. Today’s poem introduces you to my long time law partner Mary Carter, a great friend and a wonderful partner who is now living in Denver. Hello Mary. Surprise. And today, I want to bring you more of Isabelle’s words and two of her works of art that are more about her spiritual self and connectedness, although a painting of the ruddy turnstone starts us off. And, of course, be careful out there. Wearing a mask is safer for interactive situations. And don’t be bullied into not wearing a mask. Blackburn |
| Day 65: Ruddy Turnstone |
|
DAY 64
May 24, 2020 And hello once again. I am still mellow from kayaking in Earth Church Wednesday, and it’s a nice calmness because there is so much about this covid situation that is unsettling. In my lifetime, I have never experienced anything that has totally upended our societal day-to-day reality like covid has. It is an event that will define the first quarter of the 21st century, with the second quarter-century likely being defined by climate change impacts and responses. By 2050, it will be difficult to recognize many of our business and social and economic practices compared to the turn of the century, but our natural system will still be here – a constant amidst change - albeit impacted by our carbon releases and climate change. Nature is THE constant. The Earth is THE constant. Has been and will be. Without the Earth, we are not; with the Earth, we are. It is that simple, but like many simple things, there is a lot written into those few words. The mellowness that lingers with me came from attending services in Earth Church - services I have been attending in a spiritually-aware manner since 1986. I use the term spiritually-aware to indicate openness to absorbing nature, to feeling the connectedness to life energy – the energy of the ecosystem, of the living whole – and realizing that you are, indeed, experiencing it. In fact, I think it is the self-realization of this immersion that is so penetrating, so cleansing, so pure. And really fun. Today enjoy one of the early poems I wrote about Earth Church with my subject being another coastal favorite, the roseate spoonbill, a beautiful bird of the marshes and wetland ponds whose pink color stands out like a beacon against the green water meadows. The pink coloration comes from eating shellfish like shrimp that contain carotenoids from the algae that they eat. Sometimes spoonbills are very light – almost white - and sometimes a dark robust reddish-pink, all depending upon diet. Tomorrow Isabelle will return to talk more about her art. Stay tuned and be safe out there. We’ll see what happens over Memorial Weekend. Blackburn. |
| Day 64: Roseate Spoonbill |
|
DAY 63
May 23, 2020 Today is the end of the 9th week of the virus vigil, and I am announcing a new feature today – you will hear from our artist Isabelle Scurry Chapman about her art. Here is some of what she just sent me yesterday. I am saving a bit more for next week. Today’s wonderful little beach bird is the sanderling. Enjoy and stay safe out there. Blackburn |
| Day 63: Sanderling |
|
DAY 62
May 22, 2020 Hello all. I am still mellow from my day of kayaking. And I have gotten several interesting emails about birds and storms, including one about a passenger on a hurricane hunter plane going into the eye of a storm and seeing that the area inside the eye wall full of birds. Neat. Today’s bird is the black-necked stilt, a lovely wading bird that is a very distinct black and white with long pink legs, simply gorgeous against blue water, black mud and vibrant green vegetation, and Isabelle has done a great painting to bring this stilt to you. From a flooding standpoint, let’s talk about the filling of wetlands which I like to call water meadows. These water meadows perform numerous functions for all of us – they can augment water supplies, they can sequester carbon, they can take up pollutants, and they produce and support fish and wildlife of various types. They also can hold tremendous amounts of water, reducing flooding, another soft but not weak example from yesterday. The Katy Prairie west of Houston, for example, has many of these water meadows which act as sponges for the landscape. I am convinced that many of Houston’s flood problems come from indiscriminate filling of prairie wetlands in the White Oak Bayou watershed and above Barker and Addicks Reservoirs. These water meadows are also among the most political of land development issues. Dating back to 1972 when the federal Clean Water Act was passed, wetland regulation has been a federal issue placed in the hands of the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers. Although heavily litigated, debated and decried, the words written in 1972 remain today, but the rules and/or the interpretation of the rules change with every administration. The orange tape referred to in the poem refers to the field survey of the boundary of the “protected” wetland – orange tape I viewed around a wetland area on West Galveston Island where I saw the stilt in today’s poem. I put quotes around protected because the restrictions, when they apply, only go to the edge of the water, and no protection is offered to the wetland’s hydrologic linkages which of course keep the wetland alive. I don’t blame the regulatory agencies; they often wrongly get the pointed end of the stick. They are just trying to do their job, a thankless task for which I actually tip my hat to them for staying the course. To others I am less generous. Enjoy the black-necked stilt and stay safe out there. Blackburn |
| Day 62: Black-necked Stilt |
|
DAY 61
May 21, 2020 Hello all. I am writing this after a day in Earth Church, and I am mellow and smooth. Yesterday morning the brown pelicans were spectacular – line after line of them flying along the edge of the bay about one foot above the water, rising up as one to pass over us in our kayaks at about ten feet height, then back down, literally hundreds of them. And a reddish egret which you will meet in the next few weeks. Today’s bird is the beautiful and fussy Belted Kingfisher, a bird I once saw attacked by a Coopers Hawk, knocked into the water of the pond it was fishing, and coming up apart from the hawk and really angry, unleashing all sorts of nasty noises. I was glad it escaped, and to this day remember the sound of that mad kingfisher. Today’s poem is about “soft” solutions to flooding – ways to solve our problems with brains rather than brawn. One of the more interesting arguments in flood control is over evacuation from hazard areas. Let’s face it – Houston and our region and a lot of homeowners and developers and engineers made some very bad decisions in the past. Now, I have resolved not to spend my time criticizing past bad decisions or bad decisionmakers because we need to move forward to find solutions and not dwell on who did what to whom. Instead, we need solutions. Our engineers like to build things – levees, constructed channels, tunnels, diversions – physical manipulations of our hydraulic system. And while those have their place, we often ignore if not disdain other important, softer solutions, like setting aside large areas like the Katy Prairie wetlands to simply store water or buying out homes and evacuating flood prone areas that we will never make safe, regardless of how much money we spend. But, to some, evacuation is a bad word – connotes weakness, capitulation, failure. To which I say BULL****. Our huge rains are demanding space within which to gather and move to the bay, and water will take the space it needs. Gravity insures it. And who are we to argue against gravity, unless we are denying even the most basic laws of science these days. Enjoy another of my favorite birds, the belted kingfisher. And be safe. Blackburn. |
| Day 61: Belted Kingfisher |
|
DAY 60
May 20, 2020 Hello there, welcome to Day 60. If all goes well, by the time many of you read this, I will be in my kayak fishing on the back-side of Galveston Island, finding new material for poems and getting a strong dose of Earth Church. Today, I want to introduce the Frigatebird, a powerful flyer, a sea bird that raids other birds, stealing their hard-earned food, a bird where the youngsters play games with one holding a stick in its beak and the others attacking it, picking up the dropped stick as they learn how to feed. As the first poem describes, frigatebirds were seen soaring above Westheimer in West Houston after Harvey, following a pattern of many seabirds of moving into the center of the storm and following it inland, then ducking out when the timing seemed right. It turns out that birds have some amazing maneuvers to withstand a storm, with some hiding under the eaves of houses, some getting deep in their holes or nesting areas, or perhaps deep in a thicket. But a bird that spends much of its life aloft often flies into the storm, looking for smoother flying, a lovely image to me sitting here thinking about getting down to the bay, maybe seeing a frigate, driving my own car, practicing social distancing with Team 11 members, but then with kayak fishing, you are already apart as you try to find a special spot. Enjoy these two pieces about the frigatebird – one from Harvey, another from Ike – as I hopefully encounter the choir and congregation of Earth Church. Report coming and be safe from that sneaky virus. Blackburn |
| Day 60: Frigatebird |
|
DAY 59
May 19, 2020 It’s Day 59, but I have to admit, these days do seem much the same. I’m sitting in my porch office listening to the blue jays, really happy that there are no leaf blowers or construction noise nearby. The noise in my neighborhood is much worse than I ever knew, but then again, when was I around during the day? So let’s talk about flooding. For a spiritual uplift, I checked out Noah and his adventures, which are common to the Jewish, Christian and Islamic traditions as well as Hinduism I have learned. And the accounts that I read were not really uplifting, for you see, God was really mad at humans and sent the flood to punish them, with Noah and his family being chosen survivors along with all the animals of the world. Now that’s an interesting tidbit – God saved the animals. There are those that suggest that this action indicates how God wants us to act toward animals. But back to Noah. Now I am not suggesting that the floods or COVID or climate change or any other horrible outcome is God’s punishment. Earth Church is simply about the way of nature. But it is interesting in this week of meditation on flooding that in the Biblical account, the flood was an instrument of retribution. And it is also worth noting that Noah was laughed at as he built the arc, and I can see that happening. So, read this poem about the kestrel – a really neat little falcon that is common here on the coast – with that type of attitude in mind. Like much with COVID, we often ignore good information about flooding – information that will save us from a bad outcome. But if you ignore good information, should the rest of us be responsible? Some flooding food for thought. Now to the kestrel and don’t forget to be safe out there. Blackburn. |
| Day 59: Kestrel |
|
DAY 58
May 18, 2020 Hello all. Today is the start of a week devoted to writing about flooding as well the bird of the day – today it’s the wood duck. Hurricane season has begun with the formation of tropical storm Arthur – our first named storm of the season – even though hurricane season does not officially start until June 1. Hurricanes and tropical storms are simply a fact of the Texas and Gulf and Atlantic coasts, but their characteristics are changing with climate change. I want to begin by focusing on flood plains. Flood plains have always been treated as impediments to development rather than the true danger zones that they are. In the Houston region, it was political sport to manipulate the flood plain maps back in the 1980s and early 1990s. It is a little known fact that Harris County was the first county in the United States to get permission from the federal government in the early 1980s to do its own flood plain mapping, because, as was stated at the time, we felt the federal government didn’t know as much about our flooding as we did. Then what we did was gerrymander flood plain lines to the benefit of some and to the harm of many. Today, we are better about getting the mapping right, but the big issue today is how big should the rainfall be? Recent data show that our big events – the so-called 100 and 500-year rains – are getting bigger (which anyone living here could have told you as we have had many 100 and 500 year floods based on the old data). Ultimately, I believe that we are going to have to buy out tens of thousands of homes that are currently in our flood plains because they will continue to flood almost regardless of what we do. So let’s see what the wood duck has to say about flood plains. And “the squealer” also wants you to be careful out there because COVID still lurks in the neighborhood. Enjoy. Blackburn. |
| Day 58: Wood Duck |
|
DAY 57
May 17, 2020 Yep. Day 57 - the start of the ninth week of this vigil. Hope you are not getting tired of it because it is going to be around for a while longer. I may run of out poems and Isabelle out of paintings before the virus runs its course. So, I turn back to nature to find a spiritual base and to find hope. But nature also has a harsh side – a side that rewards adaptation, and a side that kicks those who either are unwilling or unable to adapt. Tomorrow I am going to start a week of poetry about flooding with Isabelle’s wonderful birds to accompany them. Flooding is a lot like Covid and climate – the solution involves answers we don’t want to hear. And refusing to hear – refusing to respond – is refusing to adapt, and nature is not good to those species that refuse to adapt. I think we often refuse to respond out of fear – fear of the unknown, fear of failure, fear of ridicule. To act in the face of fear is a key to adaptation. And to act in the face of fear, I think we all need a spiritual base of some sort. As you know, my spiritual base is nature – the Earth. I learn from it. I connect with it. I talk to it. I lean on it. It is simply a part of me as the first poem today about the cardinal – a favorite of many of you – simply states. And then the beak of the cardinal has a message for you as well in the second poem of today. Be safe out there. Blackburn. |
| Day 57: Cardinal |
|
DAY 56
May 16, 2020 Hello all. It is Day 56 and today’s bird is the osprey, another fish-eating bird that was hit hard by pesticides and herbicides, but that has made a great recovery since we banned commercial use of some of the most dangerous ones. Today’s poem includes mention of yet another strong woman who fought for a part of the natural system that was important to her and made a difference. Hana Ginzburg was her name, and she was a fierce proponent for what is now the Armand Bayou Nature Center, a place I first encountered after graduate school at Rice in the mid-1970s. I still smile today thinking about Hana’s persistence – about how she kept after and finally got Dr. Ward, the then-chair of the Environmental Science and Engineering Department at Rice in a canoe on Armand Bayou, working him, convincing him that this place was worth saving, and indeed it was. All of us marveled that she actually got him out there. As a young lawyer, I was asked to help secure some of the early funding for this park and helped negotiate some of the terms of the land deal – a case that I worked on from our dining room table that was my office. I must admit that my path to the practice of law was different than most as I never was “trained” how to practice law, but then that was what made my practice of environmental law so much fun. But then again, there was the time that I walked into our second floor home and our house keeper was crying at the kitchen table. I asked her what was wrong and she said that she needed a lawyer. I told her I was a lawyer, and she looked up at me and exclaimed “Are you really a lawyer?” Enjoy today’s art and poetry and be safe out there. Wear a mask for your sake as well as for others. Show that you care. Blackburn. |
| Day 56: Osprey |
|
DAY 55
May 15, 2020 It’s Day 55. I came to my computer with Isabelle having completed a new work – the swallow-tailed kite – and me not having a fully finished poem to go with it. So I started working on ideas from a couple of my legal cases during which I saw the swallow-tailed kite, and that narrative flowed over into the testimony of Dr. Rick Bright today before Congress where it was clear that some really good folks are being rejected because they have principles - because they deliver unpopular messages that are formed by the best science we can muster. They actually care about us and are getting fired and attacked for it, just like many of the clients that I have represented over the years – people speaking truth against power, people fighting for something important like the unique ecological resources of the Texas coast. It appears that this virus saga is but another verse of a song I have heard many times, albeit a particularly loud verse. I am now coming to the opinion that perhaps this song is an essential aspect of life – the ying of truth vs. the yang of expedience and greed. But I digress. What I wanted to say is that I started working on these poems, and found a bit of a rhythm and suddenly I wasn’t tired any more. I actually got energy from remembering the events I have included in these poems (they were real) and trying to capture them for myself and by extension you. So, I have benefitted from today’s efforts, perhaps more than you. Good for me. Thank you all. 😊 An important concept is to be grateful for the good that is out there. There is a lot of it, even with this virus floating around and a lot of crazy people ignoring good advice. I find solace in the existence of that good and the good people that carry it forward. And of course, in nature, the church in which I pray for the emergence of intelligent action guided by science and the cycles and circles of nature. Be safe out there. Blackburn |
| Day 55: Swallow-Tailed Kite |
|
DAY 54
May 14, 2020 Hello yet again. Today is the 54th day that Isabelle and I have been sending out these virus diary entries. And today, I’m once again grateful that I am able to enjoy these many varied birds of the Texas coast, a coast that I really met when Garland and I moved to Houston for me to come to graduate school at Rice. Garland’s sister Lizzie Lou was married to an architect named Walter Duson who was a sailor, and we spent many days sailing in Galveston Bay and then down the coast, going off on adventure after adventure, young and having fun. I remember swimming in Baffin Bay which was very salty and we were very buoyant. I remember seeing coyotes fishing in the flats on the mainland side of the land cut between Corpus/North Padre and Port Mansfield. I remember a powerful cold front catching us in the intracoastal in West Bay, breaking our spreader bar with the impact of the winds, Walter calm as he could be, throwing out a sea anchor, bringing us safely to rest. And I clearly remember the setting for today’s first poem about black skimmers, wonderful fishing birds of the coast that are truly unique in the way that they fish with the lower mandible in the water as they fly right above the surface, flipping the unsuspecting small fish into the mouth. What wonderful remembrances. Thank you all out there for helping me dredge up these memories from the “cloud” deep within my brain. Now, be safe out there and enjoy the black skimmer as well as think on the importance of freshwater inflows to the coast that I – and many of you – truly love. Blackburn |
| Day 54: Black Skimmer |
|
DAY 53
May 13, 2020 Good day to you all. The markings on the wall tell me it is Day 53. Today, I want to bend your ear – what a great expression – about storing carbon dioxide in the soil. This is the simplest and easiest solution to climate change on one level and oh so difficult on another. The difficulty is that the oil and gas industry has trouble believing that nature can provide a solution to the biggest threat to their future. I must say – I am personally thrilled that nature is part of the solution to climate change because it fits so well with my personal philosophy, although I must admit that I had not envisioned myself working on a climate change solution for the oil and gas industry. It happened organically, as if predestined, as Elizabeth Winston-Jones and I were working on ways to get more land protected on the Texas coast, but that’s another story. The mechanics of this solution are simple – photosynthesis by plants and trees takes carbon dioxide from the atmosphere and turns it into carbohydrates such as the wood of trees, the leaves of plants and other sugars. In the case of prairie grasses, the carbon is deposited in the soil and will continue to build up for decades where it will remain as long as it is not plowed. It’s just too easy, it would seem, for our friends and neighbors in the oil and gas business who continue to spend millions upon millions researching huge technologies to solve the climate problem I think in large part because that is what they are comfortable with. If you want to know more about what is happening with soil carbon, write me, and I will load you up with information. We are working on a soil carbon standard for the U.S. over at the Baker Institute at Rice which could be very important to the wide use of soil carbon storage concepts. And if you want to have your own carbon footprint stored in the soil of the Texas coast, go to https://www.texascoastalexchange.org/ and your footprint will be securely stored in exchange for a donation covering it. Now, let’s see what today’s bird – the absolutely fabulous, marvelous, lovely painted bunting – has to say to the boys and girls in the oil bidness as well as about Isabelle’s paintings. And stay safe out there. The virus is not so beautiful and still around. Blackburn |
| Day 53: Painted Bunting |
|
DAY 52
May 12, 2020 Hello all. It is now Day 52 of this vigil and I hope you are staying safe. Today I want to talk a bit about fighting for what is important to you, to me, to us. And while this statement could apply to politics, today I am keeping it to the environment. I have had many experiences over the years representing wonderful citizens of this great state, and many of them hired me because they felt they had no choice. Many were scared about dealing with and hiring a lawyer – paying a lawyer – but they were faced with situations where they had no choice. All of these clients shared one wonderful thing - a passion for the natural environment they either owned or used or just loved. And along the way, I met some wonderful people who remained friends long after we finished fighting in the courts. One of those great people is the woman who is the subject of today’s poem, a gentle person who just wanted to be left alone, but was not, and decided to fight back. It turned out she had spent quite a bit of time in Mexico and knew a “bruja” – a witch from across the border. It was always great fun to get a report from her that she had consulted the bruja who predicted that we would do well that day, and we generally did. So, I’ll admit it – I will resort to witchcraft anytime. And I’ll add that we could use a little witchcraft these days to help in dealing with the virus and the politicians. Now – you all stay safe out there. Blackburn. |
| Day 52: Black and White Warbler |
|
DAY 51
May 11, 2020 Welcome to Day 51, the day of the yellow-billed cuckoo, a bird that winters in South America and comes back to Texas and the United States to breed and raise its young, a bird introduced to me as the rain crow, a name I first heard from my uncle L.E. Blackburn as he and I were camping and fishing on the Calcasieu River in west central Louisiana, when he said to me that he just heard a rain crow as we pulled out the boat, warning me about the possibility of a coming rain storm. And sure enough, that night we got rained out, had to pick everything up and drive out in his red Willys jeep named Henrietta as a major storm ruined what started out as a great fishing trip, catching sun perch and bass on a fly rod. Perhaps most striking about that trip was hearing L.E. cry up toward the thunderstorms coming our way, saying “Don’t cry Atlas, Hercules is coming back”, a reference to Greek mythology that was not common in my conversations with my Louisiana kinfolks. L.E. was an interesting man who spent a lot of time with me when I was young, taking me to fish in more interesting, out of the way places. The range map shows the Yellow-billed Cuckoo breeds over much of Texas, but I always run across them in the Texas Hill Country, usually deep in the cedar-oak forest, often along a creek bottom. They are hard to see but often heard, making a distinct gurgling sound. Today, I return a bit to politics, having to comment upon our schizophrenic reaction to the virus, but more so, I just wanted to reflect upon another bird that speaks to my soul, which, as you know, many do. Be safe and listen to the scientists. Blackburn. |
| Day 51: Yellow-billed Cuckoo |
|
DAY 50
May 10, 2020 Hello all. Cheer up. It’s day 50 and another poem and painting have arrived. What more can you want on a Sunday morning? Today’s bird is the Pied-billed Grebe, a bird often seen swimming by itself, and then disappearing beneath the water, then coming back up, only to do it again, and again, and yet again. I think Isabelle has done a spectacular job on this one. And as many of you know who have been reading these virus diary entries, I have a spiritual relationship with the Earth, with the Texas coast, with the bays, with our birds and ecosystems. And it makes my life richer. I believe that in the 21st Century, environmental spirituality – whether through organized religion or through a more personal path such as mine that led me to Earth Church – will become a very important element of society. It is hard for me to think of a future where we address climate change and don’t have some sort of spiritual renaissance to go with action to try to keep climate change to 1.5 degrees centigrade which will be a difficult task - one that will require all corporations to be carbon neutral by 2050. That is an achievable target, but only with the help of nature and a spiritual commitment to achieve that goal. I will be writing more about this in the next month or so as the vigil will remain in effect at least through May and then we will see. So, along the lines of spiritual change, enjoy this poem about Pope Francis’s encyclical Laudato Si’, one of the most fascinating and revolutionary writings I have read in the last 20 years or so. And don’t forget, if you wish to catch up on earlier virus vigils, you can go to my web site at https://www.jimblackburninfo.com/virus-vigil.html. And be safe out there. Blackburn |
| Day 50: Pied-billed Grebe |
|
DAY 49
May 9, 2020 Today is day 49 of this virus vigil and Isabelle is producing some marvelous art, I think. Today’s bird was painted by her only a day or two after I made the request. I have a group of poems that I have written but for which there is no artwork, and Isabelle is working like a Trojan to paint some new birds as well as to work on paintings inspired by our trip to Egypt. I might include one or two of those paintings in some upcoming virus diary entries, but we will see. Today’s bird is a great one – the purple martin. One of the most amazing natural phenomena I have ever witnessed was the annual gathering of the purple martins when they congregate at various locations around Houston (a process called staging) in late July and early August before starting their migration southward to winter in South America. We were told where to go to see these birds on the Houston Audubon Society web site, and we headed southwest out of town to a mall in Missouri City. There were a few people around in folding chairs but no sign of any birds. And then, after a while, the human crowd grew a bit and then a bit more and then the birds started coming toward us, flock after flock of purple martins circling above the parking lot, some high, some lower, all circling in a great swooping arcs, some landing on telephone wires, and then right at dark they all converged on the oak trees that had been planted along the roads defining the parking lot. There were easily tens of thousands of martins and it was a really neat event to witness. And you thought nature and parking lots didn’t mix. Well, this time they did. So – now to the martin poems. Be safe. The virus remains among us. Blackburn. |
| Day 49: Purple Martin |
|
DAY 48
May 8, 2020 Day 48 has arrived. Yippee. Not sure why I am happy – not a lot has changed, and I certainly don’t plan on going back to business as usual anytime soon. In fact, the way things are looking, there may be no going back to business as usual, at least not quite like it was. But on to the meadowlark. What a good bird. It is relatively large (at least compared to sparrows), it has a bright yellow breast so there is good color and it will sit and let you watch it for a while. All in all, a most cooperative bird. A bird that we amateur birders should celebrate, until someone (who will remain unnamed) comes up and asks “Was it an Eastern or a Western Meadowlark?” Well, it turns out both exist in our area, and they look very much alike - so close it is very hard for me to tell them apart. But today, I am not worrying about it. I am going with Eastern Meadowlark and that’s it. So enjoy this tribute to the Eastern (or maybe Western) Meadowlark. And please stay safe. This virus is not close to being out of our lives. Blackburn. |
| day48.pdf |
|
DAY 47
May 7, 2020 Hello again. It’s Day 47 and today’s bird is the Cedar Waxwing, a truly lovely bird that I always see traveling in a flock. It’s a good looking bird as revealed in the lovely painting by Isabelle. Today, I have fairness and concern for those who lack resources in our society on my mind. A lot of people living in this society don’t have much of a chance at all. I toured Houston after Harvey and although Harvey flooded much of the city, the repair and restoration still lags in many of our poorer areas such as the northeast sector of town. These appear to be many of the same communities hit hardest by the virus. I am reminded of when I was a student in Plan II at the University of Texas and I had to read “The Shame of Our Cities” for Dr. Silber’s philosophy course. We have a bit of the shame of our country on our hands, and we might think about that a bit. We are better than this. We can do better than this, whether it is coronavirus or flood relief or health care or whatever. Many in our society literally have no safety net, and the more I watch the virus tragedy unfolding, the more clear it is. Thanks for letting me rant. Tomorrow I promise we are back to the birds. And be safe out there. Blackburn. |
| Day 47: Cedar Waxwing |
|
DAY 46
May 6, 2020 Hello all. It is now Day 46, and it seems this virus is a very agile foe, so I hope you aren’t tired of these because they are continuing for a while longer. Today’s bird is a personal favorite – the brown pelican. I love to be down at the beach or fishing in the bay and watching the brown pelicans soaring and diving. They just seem majestic – like they own the skies – just cruising along yet aloof from it all, unlike the gulls and the sanderlings that get all caught up in the people on the beach, yet the pelicans can be fishing 100 yards offshore totally unfazed. My first remembrance of brown pelicans on the Texas coast was on the Freeport Christmas Bird Count with David Marrack when Garland and I witnessed one of the first sighting of a brown pelican in the upper Texas coast in a long time as they recovered after most commonly used pesticides and herbicides were banned in the early 1970s. We saw that pelican the same day we saw a burrowing owl out on the sand flats near Jones Creek. I remember those early bird counts well – my immersion into the true diversity of bird species here on the Texas coast, a diversity that goes with our ecological diversity which is substantial. Our best kept secret of the Houston-Galveston region is this wonderful diversity that we have – diversity that we as a community hide from as if it were a virus – diversity we should be celebrating every day of the year – diversity that we are wasting at a time when we need to seriously rethink economy, a time when people will be traveling less overseas. So – dive into our diverse ecology and our several hundred species of birds that are found here on the coast. It’s good. it’s really good. Just do it. And keep hiding from that nasty, tricky virus. Blackburn. |
| Day 46: Brown Pelican |
|
DAY 45
May 5, 2020 It is now Day 45, and I am staying at home for a while longer. Today we can enjoy another of Isabelle’s recent art works, the Marsh Hawk, which is now known as the Northern Harrier. I prefer Marsh Hawk to Northern Harrier and that is what I am calling it, bird protocol be damned – my moment of rebellion to start the day. Rebellion – now that is an interesting concept in this time of the virus. Rebellion against social distancing. Rebellion against science. Rebellion against common sense? Rebellion against self-interest? On one level this seems to be strange stuff for a rebellion. Certainly all of us are frustrated. Jobs have been heavily impacted, but if it is not safe to work as we used to, then what? In these times, it is sometimes difficult to discern real rebellion from a manufactured one. What I hate is for elected officials who are trying to keep us safe to be vilified and attacked. Certainly jobs are an issue, but the more important issue is the long term economy. I have written a bit in these virus diaries about the circular economy which I believe will be the economy of the future. Our current economy has problems that – to paraphrase Einstein – cannot be solved by thinking the way we were thinking when we created them. We need an economy for the 21st Century and we do not have it now. Instead, we have a relic from the 20th Century that is becoming like an anvil chained to a swimmer – very heavy. We need to throw off the anvil and . . . Well enough of that. Be safe out there and enjoy today’s art and poetry. Blackburn. |
| Day 45: Marsh Hawk |
|
DAY 44
May 4, 2020 Greetings. Day 44. I feel a bit like the prisoner marking the days on the wall – almost nine bundles of five sticks. What is happening with this virus is both amazing and horrifying, and I am of the firm belief that this is the beginning of a new era of the evolution of humanity, an era where we understand the changes that our 20th Century lifestyles have brought and make the 21st Century adjustments necessary to live a “normal” life. The spread of the virus flows directly from physical connections such as air travel and ships and the international nature of business and tourism. Any one of us can go most anywhere in the world, and we did, but we may not as much in the future and certainly not without a bit of forethought and precaution. And we are only just beginning to understand the changes that our warming climate will bring and the adjustments that will be needed to address those changes which may be much more difficult in a systemic sense than is addressing this or the next virus. The point here is that we need to find a spiritual base to generate strength for the journey ahead, and nature is a great place to find that strength. Almost all religions have some aspect that is linked to nature, although I would argue that these linkages are not discussed or emphasized nearly enough. Personally, I have Earth Church, which is my rock. But the point here is simply that we should look to nature and incorporate nature into our value set because nature may turn out to be our solution/salvation/”special sauce”. Add a little love and care for each other with a little nature and you have a recipe for a great future. Now be safe out there and enjoy a great bird, the American Oystercatcher. Blackburn |
| Day 44: American Oyster Catcher |
|
Day 43 May 4. 2020 Hello all. It is Day 43, and the virus vigil forges on ahead. Today’s bird is the white ibis, an important bird in my journey to the current spiritual relationship I have with nature – a journey that began as a search for a concept of a higher power that made sense to me. The first poem is about a moment that actually happened – a moment of realization, a flash of understanding that went to the very center of my essence. And it was a wonderful moment, one for which I continue to be grateful. The white ibis was also probably among the first of the poems that I started writing after walking into Isabelle’s studio and seeing the cigar boxes with birds on them. So the white ibis has been pivotal in my life, as have three dear friends – John Chapman, Jack Schwaller and John Fenoglio. The four of us have fished together for several decades and I wanted to introduce you all to Team 11, a name that came from our e |