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“On The Wild Side” Columnist Says Goodbye

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“On The Wild Side” provided a fun and exciting glimpse into what nature had to offer. Getting back to our roots in nature was a major focus for Christine Maccabee, Catoctin Banner columnist, as she waves farewell to writing for the Banner and moves on to other exciting ventures.

Maccabee’s final “On The Wild Side” column detailed the importance of seed-saving, a centuries-old tradition for re-planting crops, flowers, and just about anything else that grows out of the ground. She has routinely developed stories on her experiences with gardening and environmental health during her time with the Banner.

Maccabee is a creative soul who has written for the Banner for years, often exploring and explaining the value of nature and environmental crises surrounding our earth.

She got her start in writing many years ago and, to date, has covered anything from gardening tips, to humans’ impact on water, to climate change and its effects on our world.

“I was journaling throughout college,” Maccabee said. “I was always sort of a poetic person, but in my 20s was when I really got fired up and started writing a lot of nature songs.”

Maccabee is an avid songwriter and poet, which has contributed greatly to her writing over the years. Her articles were often thoughtful and informative and written with a down-to-earth tone, making them easily relatable to anyone with even the slightest interest in the outdoors.

She got her start in published long-form writing with a former local newspaper, and her ideas have flourished from there. 

“I started off with the Emmitsburg Dispatch, writing about my goats,” Maccabee said. She talked about her experiences milking them, their attitudes, and all of the joys goats brought her.

“I’ve been very thankful that the Banner took me on after Bo Cadle at the Dispatch. I segued from goats to gardens.”

Though she no longer has goats, her garden has taken off since her days of writing for the Dispatch. Annually, Maccabee grows peas, garlic, potatoes, various berries, and much, much more. Her repertoire of knowledge for the plant life on her 11.5-acre property has grown tremendously over the years.

“I can identify every single wild plant here, and I’ve been working on that skill since my 20s,” she said.

From gardening to music, Maccabee has always filtered her life through her various creative outlets. She’s made CDs of her songs, countless poems, flora press artwork, and she wants to continue expanding her works to a greater audience.

With so many different focuses throughout her life, Maccabee’s gardening has been a steady source of happiness, personal growth, and inspiration for her.

“Your life is like a book,” she said. “You have chapters, and I’ve done a lot of things in 15-year chapters in my life. But gardening has been a constant throughout that.”

If her music career takes off, or her poems strike a chord with the new generation, you’ll likely still find Maccabee plugging away in her garden or awaiting the blooming plants of the coming seasons. Her deep love of nature will always keep her “on the wild side.”

You can find archives of Maccabee’s “On The Wild Side” articles online at www.thecatoctinbanner.com.

Christine MacCabee sits in her meditation section among her various species of plants.

On The Wild Side

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We Are All Connected

by Christine Maccabee

At a very young age, children have a connection with the natural world in ways we, as adults, sometimes forget, perhaps never learned, or no longer have time for. The magic of tiny butterflies in a grandmother’s flower garden can touch the heart of the youngest of children, as it did mine, and the memory remains with me to this day. My world was very limited then—small you might say—and yet so very large with wonder.

As we grow older and learn just how large the earth is, and our understanding of the world expands, hopefully so does our empathy, our feeling of connection. If we are fortunate enough to study the science of ecology in depth, we begin to understand what the Native Americans called the “web of life.” We begin to feel the connections all living creatures have with one another, including ourselves. We also begin to see how our behaviors and activities as human beings impact the natural world, in large and small ways. Yes, we even begin to see that it is really not such a large world after all, but rather a small world, where absolutely everything affects everything else. Consider the butterfly effect.

We are all touched one way or another by the many wars our country has been engaged in, and still is, not to forget the war faring nature of other countries. The trauma of war is very real in all our lives. We feel it, even if we are not personally engaged. No one is exempt from the so called “toxic stress” created by our warriors coming home crippled, be it physically or mentally, or both. We read it in the news, in books, and hear it on the TV. And now, yes, the war is continuing here at home in our cities and schools. So, is it any surprise that in our country, we are experiencing more deaths due to drug overdoses, mass shootings, and suicides? No surprise at all, in my mind, though very sad.

Another more subtle type of war is being conducted against our precious planet, which is indeed our mother. Mothers provide the sustenance and caring needed for a child to grow, and, of course, fathers provide protection and nurture as well. But, not always. Broken families are a symptom of something gone very wrong. The same can be said about political strife and ecological damage, created by both war and consumerism. We want to provide and protect our own, but at what cost? It seems the world is getting smaller all the time.

However, as these various symptoms of greed and dysfunction come out of hiding, hitting us hard in the gut, people are waking up. At least, that is every caring person’s hope. As our worlds intersect and consciousness grows, better solutions are giving birth as well. One case in point would be the solar and wind industries, the expansion of which will play a huge part in the transition we direly need away from life-killing technologies, which have been—and still are—polluting and damaging essential natural ecosystems.

Our earth is one huge network of interconnections. The melting of the Arctic icecap and Greenland’s icy protection is already affecting the Gulf Stream, which is creating a much colder Europe. Just this winter, it made the water so cold that beaches in North Wales, England, are witnessing miles and miles of dead starfish and other small aquatic creatures, which depend on the Gulf Stream warmth. A recent photo of these beaches sent chills up my spine. Yes, dear friends, climate disruption is real, and I believe there is no answer in sight so long as we continue to live our consumeristic lives to the hilt as though there is no tomorrow. Some day there may be no tomorrow. Just sayin’.

A very wise man long ago warned us not to heap treasures up on earth. But we went ahead and did it, anyway. Living simply, with less, and closer to the web of the earth, recognizing our place in it as well as the importance of other entities besides the human being, are the first steps we must all take in order to turn this immense problem around. Then, of course, the next step is to be better stewards of the earth’s resources and to problem solve.

We are all war weary. We are all traumatized. We are all interconnected in this very small world that we once thought was so huge. I wish you all well on your journeys through these wild and difficult times.

My apologies for such a wild essay, but I do tend to be a bit “On The Wild Side.”

On The Wild Side

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by Christine Maccabee

My Last Chicken

My last hen was a beautiful, little blue egg layer, an Auracana, originally from South America. I acquired her four years ago, along with two other larger hens of a different genetic heritage, whose large brown eggs I enjoyed until they both died, leaving me one last unhappy hen: Little Blue. As I always say, people need other people, and the same goes for chickens. Chickens need other chickens.

So began my long journey of finding an adequate new home for Little Blue, as I called her. It was not a particularly difficult decision to discontinue raising chickens, especially with a hard winter coming. My chicken coop is way down the hill in my main veggie garden; many a winter, I have had to push through deep snow, sleet, and rain to let the girls out. They always wanted to go out, no matter the weather, and were healthier for it, as was I. I also had to make sure frozen drinking water was emptied and replaced with warm water to hold them through the day. Then, before dark—and sometimes even in the dark—I had to slip and slide down the hill to close their hatchway door to keep them safe from predators. Now, that was roughing it! My chickens learned to rough it, too, with no electricity; cold oatmeal from yesterday’s breakfast; any greens I had on hand; and, sometimes, leftover spaghetti (without the sauce) made their day. Of course, I always had to refresh their feeder with sunflower seeds, corn, and other feed. The rewards for all our efforts were beautiful eggs and great manure for the gardens!

Those last three hens were not my only chickens by far. My history with chickens and roosters—and mallard ducks—is long and varied, with lots of drama, especially when the black snakes visited. Unfortunately, I cannot go into all of the stories I have concerning them, as that would take a Chicken ‘n Duck Tale book, and I figure such a book would bore other bird people since they, too, have their own stories to tell (note the word”story” in the word “history”). However, every story is unique, though similar in that we all have happy times and sad partings, be it through death or necessary changes.

Sending Little Blue off to a farm—run by a lady I will call “the chicken lady”—was no easy task, but it was one of those necessary changes. My Little Blue was more than a little blue here. In fact, she was extremely lonely after the death of her friend Big Red, with whom she felt safe. Then, after Red’s death, Little Blue became traumatized when a hawk swooped down twice, getting close enough to swipe off a portion of her lovely red comb. After that frightening encounter, she never went out of her coop again. I knew it was time for a big change.

And what a change it was, both happy and unhappy. At the chicken lady’s farm, Little Blue was greeted with some bullying from the top dogs (I mean chickens!). Although she rallied to show her tough side, I am told she is not coming out of her new coop to forage free range with the others. When I heard this, I became very sad for my traumatized chicken.

Yes, not all change is easy, so all I can do is hope that Little Blue gets stronger after trauma and works through her changes, as must we all as we go through difficult times. I suppose it is high time for me to get philosophical about it, according to the writer of the Ecclesiastes quote, for as the seasons turn and change, so must we all.

There are some things I can hold onto, however, and those are the love and the memories of my many birds over the years, and, of course, the great blue eggs! So thank you Little Blue, good luck, and I will miss you.

Note: Good News! The latest update is that my last chicken, Little Blue, is now learning the ropes and getting outside with the other chickens! 

On The Wild Side

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Christine Maccabee

Birds in Paradise?

Most of us are quite aware of the problems birds and aquatic animals are having with plastic objects in our oceans and waterways. However, there are details that most of us would just as soon ignore because they are so devastating. I personally make a point of watching pertinent films and reading books and articles because, in a real way, I need to know all the facts, no matter how gruesome. I need to know not only what is right, but also what is wrong, and then I hope to convey some of this information to others.

Birds are indeed amazing survivors, and according to Jim Robbins’ book, The Wonder of Birds, many scientists think of them as “the dinosaurs that made it.” Robbins says that chickens and turkeys are genetically the closest dinosaur relatives with their “beast feet,” not unlike the Tyrannosaurus Rex, which is a theropod.

Theropods brooded eggs, had bones filled with air pockets to make them lighter, and some had feathers and even a wishbone!

At this time of year, and even earlier in the season, many birds are migrating to their winter homes. How a tiny bird like the hummingbird, which weighs no more than a paperclip or two, can travel up to 3,000 miles annually, at speeds up to 30 mph, dodging hurricane-force winds and rain, is for me nothing short of a miracle. Here’s a fact that may blow your mind: “the record number of heartbeats in a hummer is a whopping 1,260 times a minute,” according to Robbins.

There is a wonderful film you can get at the library called “The Great Migration,” which I wish everyone could see. In it, multiple species are followed closely as they migrate, and the distances they travel by air defies belief—and to think they don’t need metal protective coverings and seat belts to travel as we humans do. They just wing it as they are, with awesome communication between one another to safely get where they are going, eating wild food along the way (hopefully not plastic).

As wonderful as all this is, worldwide, many species of water birds, as well as water turtles and whales, etc., are in trouble. Many are dying from starvation due to stomachs full of plastic objects, which they innocently see as food. In the film BAG IT, (which will be shown to the public in Thurmont this November and December), I witnessed the dissection of stomachs of Condors and out spilled the reason for their starvation. Birds, as innately intelligent as they are, are also innocent victims of the throw-away society that we, as humans, have created. Some people may discount this by saying, “Oh well, it is a dangerous world we all live in,” or “life is messy,” both of which are true, but it is also an equally amazingly miraculous life and one worth taking better care of.

Actually, many people are beginning to use cloth shopping bags and, of course, most of us recycle. Ideally, in a more paradisiacal world, we could use less plastic; however, just about everything we buy is wrapped in plastic! So, what to do? Perhaps there is no one answer, except to continue cleaning up our messes, and to try not to create  more. I heard recently of 800,000 people participating in a worldwide beach cleanup, and this is just one of many other efforts to help wildlife and the ecology by good-hearted, caring folk. Of course, no matter where we are, there is an ongoing need to pick up trash along walkways, in streams, or anywhere we see any.

It is impossible to write about all the perils facing birds, and there are many. Due to limited space in this column, I simply will end by quoting another wise person in history who said, “Whatsoever you do to the least of these you do unto me.” I believe “the least of these” implies not only human beings, but all other sentient beings as well. I am certain Chief Seattle would agree. Most of the holy men and women in the world owned very little and had utmost reverence for life (St. Francis, Ghandi, Mother Theresa). I am also sure they did not “heap up treasures on earth,” or use plastic bags when shopping!

Yes, we all can do something, and we all can do better.

Love at First Touch CD Available

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2dsc_3149Deb Spalding

Sabillasville resident, Christine Maccabee (pictured right), has been a volunteer at Frederick Memorial Hospital (FMH) since 2012. In that role, she plays a baby grand piano on Wednesdays for a couple of hours. She first encountered the piano in the lobby of the hospital when she went there for one year after an accident, which had damaged her right arm. For close to a year, she had to discontinue playing her guitar and organ for churches. “This was a very depressing time for me, until I found the FMH piano. Its tone and light touch was a perfect match for me,” and it was therapy for her injured arm. She also discovered that her music was a gift for people waiting there in the lobby.

The piano was a gift to the hospital from Jeff and Patty Hurwitz, and set up to be a player piano. However, “It is a wonderful instrument to play on by a real human being.” She feels that the hospital is a perfect place to share her music because, “music is a healer.” Patrons and visitors often thank her for her music, and once, a father and young daughter began dancing together to an Irish waltz she was playing!

Christine is proud to be releasing her third CD of music entitled Love at First Touch recorded live at FMH by her son Ashley Maccabee. Her original song, “Love at First Touch” was inspired by the love she felt when first playing the baby grand in the lobby of FMH. The words and music for the song came within a half hour. She said, “It was meant to be.”

Christine also wrote the second song on the CD called, “Forgive Me For Loving You”—about a man, not a piano! The remainder of the music on the CD are various versions of twenty-two songs from the 1920s through 1070s, songs like “It Had to be You,” “Memphis Blues,” “Yesterday” (Beatles), and “What the World Needs Now” (is Love Sweet Love). The $15.00 CD is available at E Plus Copy Center or by email at songbirdschant@gmail.com.

Christine had created two earlier CDs of original songs, “Songpoems from the Heart of a Naturalist” and “Winter Wait.” “Songpoems” was recorded before a live audience at Apple’s Church in 2002. “Winter Wait” was recorded live in her living room. “These are both very personal CD’s, with songs I didn’t want to take with me, if you know what I mean…” They include a mixture of music on piano, guitar, and vocals, many expressing her deep love of  nature.

Christine has been studying and playing piano since she was just four years old. She was raised south of Baltimore in Brooklyn Park, Maryland. She claims that her mother couldn’t keep her out of the woods behind her house. The first song on her first CD is called “Child’s Song.” It was inspired by her adventures as a child in the woods. Her love of nature drove her to become a naturalist, but she’s a trained musician and artist as well. Christine graduated from Hood College with a B.A. in Music. In her twenties, she sang in the Verdi Requiem Mass as soprano soloist and did roles in Mozart operas at Frostburg State College, all while being inspired to write her many folk songs.

Christine has taught private piano, voice, and guitar in this area for twenty years, while always very busy with environmental things and being a mother of three. At heart, she said, she “was always out climbing trees and experiencing the glory of the natural world.” It would be impossible to separate that love from her music!