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On The Wild Side

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What Goes Up Must Come Down

by Christine Maccabee

The chilly, windy rainstorms of May and June are over, with much flooding and sadly loss of life and property in Ellicott City, Frederick City, and elsewhere.

The humid weather has now set in, which, of course, breeds gnats, mosquitoes, and other tiny flying pests; yet, swallows and blue birds need them to feed their newly hatched babies, as well as themselves. So, I try to appreciate them, even as I  transplant my peppers and tomatoes, which should have been planted a month ago, if the rain had just abated.

Many gardening friends, both professional and serious hobbyists, have expressed frustration about the quantity of cold rain this spring. Having read a bit from good sources, and even as I use my own intuition, I now believe I know what is happening. All during that cold, rainy spell, I kept saying “What goes up must come down.” I would say it to people I met as we ran into the Food Lion or CVS, sometimes taking time to explain my theory, which at this point is no theory at all, but actual. The earth’s natural air-conditioning system is disappearing as the many amazing glaciers, Greenlands white snow/ice shield and the polar ice caps are melting. Everything is melting three times faster than expected. (Once it is all melted, then we will see even hotter weather with wildfires and drought, already occurring in many places out west.)

Some of this melting ice flows into the ocean, and some evaporates into the atmosphere. All this is simple science, which even my twelve-year-old grandson understands. The Earth is becoming confused, and so are we. Human stress levels are soaring and suicides increasing. Yes, we can no longer deny what is happening on many levels, and many people are becoming more aware. Truth is, levels of CO2 emissions (and methane, as well) remain high and our lifestyles contribute to it daily. Did you know that mowing acre upon acre of grass on large estates is one of the greatest contributors to CO2 pollution? So, who cares, you ask.

Actually, we all should care. Even if many people in our own country do not care, many of us do and are working towards positive changes, such as alternative energy use and conservation practices. Yes, when the rain comes down it affects us all, even those of us who care, and it is not getting any better. According to studies made at the University of Pennsylvania, future hurricanes will be qualitatively different than ones we have seen thus far, possibly even worse than past ones. Allow me to explain.

Due to more moisture in the atmosphere and disruption of climate patterns, hurricanes are moving more slowly and linger longer over larger areas, thus perhaps all the very cold rain and wind we saw this spring in our part of the world. Future hurricanes, due to continuing melting of ice and snow (even our beautiful snow-capped mountains are in trouble these days) could see winds up to 200 mph or greater. Recent hurricanes, such as Irma, saw 185 mph winds in the Virgin Islands, and Patricia went as high as 200 already. These are winds far beyond a category 5. Experts are saying they are in a new category: 6.

Pope Frances, a wonderful advocate of caring for Creation, invited leading oil executives to a two-day conference at the Vatican. No matter your feelings about the Pope, he says it straight, and he said it there to CEOs of ExxonMobil and other energy producers. He said we can and must do better, and though “Civilization requires energy, energy must not destroy civilization,” and he encouraged innovation. I am sure he would also encourage living more conservatively, more simply.

So, as the rains continue to fall on us all, and the winds get stronger and sea levels rise, and fires and drought increase, we will all need to be inventive and conservative in order to survive. As for me, I will persist in growing my own food and herbs, support local farmers, provide  habitat for wildlife, and mow less. I will also vote.

Such a wonderful country and world we have. I thank God for the beauty and mystery of Creation every day as I work with it and explore it. I hope you enjoy it—gnats and all—and never take anything for granted, for it is a precious gift we should all cherish and protect.

On The Wild Side

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by Christine Maccabee

“There is No Planet B”

When I heard that the President Macron of France was coming to the United States to meet with our president, I knew he had an important agenda. I knew in my heart that he would speak up for the need for our country to join with other nations to preserve the health of our precious planet Earth, and he did not disappoint.

True confession…I am a news junkie. I want, and need, to know what is going on in our country and around the world. Having no TV, I listen to C-span quite a lot, as I do chores or gardening projects. I like to hear many points of view, though not agreeing with all of them, of course. Who does?

A couple of weeks ago, I just happened to be tuned in at the very time the French President was speaking to Congress, so I stopped in my tracks to listen. I have always seen Macron as a truth seeker and a very good leader, who is not afraid to speak truth to power, and he did not disappoint that day! Perhaps you heard him, too.

Young President Macron, just thirty-nine, spoke boldly and eloquently, explaining the importance of us all to work together, for “in the long run, we will have to face the same realities, as we are citizens of the same planet; so we will have to work together to ensure the health of Earth’s oceans, its critical biodiversity, preserving these things for our children and their children.”

Macron said he sees the U.S pullout of the Paris Climate Agreement (signed by 176 nations in 2015) as “a short-term family disagreement,” and that he believes “it is the responsibility of lawmakers to ensure leaving our children a planet that is liveable in twenty-five years.” With those words, there was an immediate loud cheer from members of Congress, and a loud applause in my heart, for truth recognizes truth.

This amazingly intelligent and caring young man spoke for most of us, I am sure, for who does not care for the health of the oceans, which are filled with plastic debris that are killing aquatic life, left and right? Who does not care that the Polar ice caps are melting much faster than anyone thought, creating sea-level rise and confusion in weather patterns? And, who does not care that our rainforests are being clear cut, destroying untold diversity of plant and animal habitat and necessary oxygen, our trees being the lungs of the earth? I am sure our children care, as do Emmanuel Macron’s children. He is speaking for them and for the Earth, as we can’t have one without the other.

President Macron continued on, saying, “I believe we must transition to low carbon economies, because what is the meaning of life if our decisions, if our jobs, are destroying quality of life on our Earth? We must work together to create new jobs, new opportunities, so as we work [to support our families] we are also supporting our Earth.” Last I heard, France is phasing out all coal-related jobs within a few years. I have also heard that Finland is a totally fossil-fuel-free nation already, employing nothing but wind and solar; but then, these two nations are much smaller than the U.S., with fewer wealthy fossil fuel magnates, so it is likely easier for them to come to agreements about energy.

Still, I want to thank you, Emmanuel Macron, for lifting my spirits that day. I pray that your wise leadership and earth ambassadorship will create a ripple in our own country towards wise choices in the very near future, for there truly is “no planet B!”(at least not one that we have discovered yet).

On The Wild Side

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by Christine Maccabee

Land Use

As a land owner, I could not agree with Andy Warhol more (quote above). Personally, I never wanted to turn my 11+ acres into a commercial commodity or a perfect landscape. I simply wanted to grow healthy organic food and allow for wildlife habitat. Back thirty years ago, and even now, more than ever, I feel the same.

There is both poor land management and better management, but I cannot go into every aspect of each perspective in this short space. All I know is that I side on the “better,” if not good management of the gift of the property I own.

After all, it is not really my land. This upper valley in the Catoctins where I live is a part of the earth’s ecosystem, and I am trying my best to honor that by practicing non-chemical warfare, as well as permaculture. So far, we all seem to be doing pretty well—that is, the birds, frogs, toads, bees, wildflowers, and me.

As Andy Warhol said, land is a precious work of art, not to be despoiled, and that includes all the residents here, “all my relations,” as native Americans think of them.

My biggest concern—and the concern of many caring people out there—is the use of the latest in a long line of chemicals developed by corporate giants (not mentioning any names). Back in the 1970s, DDT (a synthetic organic compound used as an insecticide) was banned due to its horrible effect on wildlife, which was brilliantly and sadly depicted by Rachel Carson in her book Silent Spring. Unfortunately, new, just as potent, poisons are out there to devastate wildlife, again. So, what is the real bottom line? For me, it is the health of our planet and its inhabitants, not profits for big corporations. Will we never learn?

According to the latest studies made at the University of Saskatchewan, migrating birds are eating chemical-laden seeds on the large swaths of land, owned by farmers who are using neonicotinoids. According to an article in this spring’s National Wildlife magazine, many U.S. and Canadian farmers plant seeds coated with these toxic chemicals on more than 100 million acres, just as birds are stopping to feed on wild seeds to refuel on their journeys north to breeding grounds. Many of these birds become disoriented and can lose as much as 17 percent of their body weight due to eating from those fields.

Our pollinators, so critical for our ongoing food crops, are also dying in droves. Happily, at least in Maryland, our state, county, and towns are responding to this threat. I am hearing that some large stores are banning neonic pesticides from their shelves, so that gives reason for hope. However, everyone, especially people who wish to have perfect lawns, should be more careful when allowing chemicals to be applied. These are lawns that robins peck on religiously for worms and grubs. Also, bees suck the nectar from clovers and dandelions, two great early native wildflowers. I put both in salads, clipping the petals with scissors. The colors and taste, along with the purple of violet flowers, make a beautifully nutritious salad!

Here is a tidbit for you to chew on: according to Frederick County Master Naturalist Ann Payne, we pour more chemicals on our lawns than farmers apply to their fields. In a new UN report, 40 percent of pollinator species face extinction.

So, what can small land owners do? Much!

First, allow certain areas to go wild, perhaps along your fence line, if you need larger turf areas for children and cookouts.

Second, where-ever possible, allow violets, clovers, and dandelions to grow, controlling the seeds of the dandelion if you do not want it to take over. In doing so, you are taking time to enjoy nature, while you pluck the seed heads off the dandelions, perhaps making it a game for your children. I have been doing this for years, and it is easy.  Of course, I always allow some seeds to go for the next year’s growth. I love dandelions!

Third, plant native plants that are the most beneficial to our birds, bees, butterflies, and a host of other smaller insects, which are all a part of the ecosystem. Get curious and learn to identify wild plants coming up in your gardens, before marking them as useless and pulling them out. Of course, I am not opposed to the multitude of non-native beauties that also offer interest and sometimes nectar, such as red petunias for hummingbirds. Also, plant trees such as Dogwoods, which provide berries for birds.

Last, but not least, do not use chemicals on your lawns, or anywhere, as much as possible.

The adventure of allowing wild plants to grow on your precious property will not only benefit wildlife, but will enhance your own feeling of connection with nature. As smaller land owners, I believe we all have to do our part. It is our moral obligation and, if done in the right spirit, can indeed be an exciting artistic project. Thank you Mr. Warhol for your insight and wisdom. May we all be so wise!

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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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What Turtles and Birds Have in Common

by Christine Maccabee

At first glance, turtles and birds have nothing in common. Birds fly and have feathers; turtles mostly crawl or swim and are featherless. However, even amphibians—such as frogs, toads, and salamanders, who are mostly earthbound—have less in common with turtles than birds do, though that can be debated.

I read a lot. Mostly, I enjoy non-fiction stories that reflect the amazing mysteries of life, as it is and has been. All present day creatures on earth come from an amazing reservoir of ancient—mostly now extinct—relatives. Of course, we humans are no exception. Natural history, especially pre-history, before anything was written down, is especially fascinating, the evidence for evolution being found in fossils, some of which are hundreds of millions of years old.

So, the first thing turtles and birds have in common is that they are both unusually ancient creatures, having survived the fall of the dinosaurs. As Dr. Carr wrote in his Handbook of Turtles,“Turtles remained while the dinosaurs bellowed toward their doom in the Crustaceous, when the last Brachiosaurus laid down his fifty tons to rest.”

As for birds, yes, even the ones at our feeders, “they have more complex feathers specialized for flight than ancient dinosaurs did and are the sole remaining dinosaur lineage.”(According to a recent National Geographic article, “Why Birds Matter.”)

Due to a bird’s ability to fly away from danger (with the exception of a few, such as penguins) and a turtle’s amazing armor to protect vital organs, they are equally amazing survivors. Everyone knows the land turtle’s ability to hibernate and then emerge in the spring, even after the coldest of winters. Of course, many birds fly thousands of miles as they migrate to warmer climes, while others hang around and hunker down during periods of freezing rain and snow in trees and shrubs, their downy feathers providing enough warmth to survive. Incredible. If you have not seen it, I highly advise getting the film, The Great Migration, from the library. It depicts the awesome stamina and intelligence of migratory birds. Of course, turtles, in their own slow but sure ways, are mighty awesome as well.

Both birds and turtles are egg layers, but they deal with their offspring differently. As we all know, birds are fierce protectors and providers for their young, while baby turtles are totally on their own once hatched. Their eggs, however, are similarly in danger from egg-loving predators, such as snakes, birds, and humans (especially sea turtle poachers).

Both turtles and birds have no teeth. Birds use their beaks with great efficiency for catching and consuming prey. Similarly, turtles can tear an insect, fish, or plant apart easily with their sharp, horny bills. I avoid, at all cost, putting my fingers anywhere within reach of my turtles’ mouths, as they can indeed draw blood with a single bite.

One of the most distinguishing characteristics of turtles is their strong shell, or exoskeleton, which protects their soft flesh and their endoskeleton. Birds, on the other hand have only weightless, hollow,  endoskeletons, allowing them to fly with the greatest of ease, unlike their brother, the turtle, who can only crawl or swim.

If there were to be a beauty show competition, because of their colorful plumage, birds would likely win over turtles. I would likely vote for the turtle, but then I am prejudiced. I have raised a variety of turtles over the years. As a child, I especially loved my map turtle, with its fascinating map-like markings. In the wild, the hawksbill sea turtle is wondrous to behold, with its impressive colors and designs all over its legs and head. Locally, the lowly male box turtles have gorgeous orange and yellow patterns, which distinguish them from the simpler females.

Both birds and turtles are precious entities and provide us mortals with inspiration and, hopefully, incentive enough to save them and their habitats, protecting them from plastic items that sadly now infest our oceans and waterways (affecting both birds and turtles that innocently consume them or become entrapped in them).

Not enough can be said for the need to protect these wonderful, ancient animals. As we protect them and their habitats, we are also protecting human life on this amazingly mysterious planet we all depend on to live.

On The Wild Side

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by Christine Maccabee

Wild Cabins I Have Known

Sometimes a book comes along that speaks to us in very personal ways. Such a book was written by Gerard Kenney, whose discoveries of remote one-room cabins in the Canadian wilderness reflect my own need for peace and quiet. By canoe and by foot, he and a dear friend spent years adventuring together, contemporary explorers of flora and fauna and, yes, wild cabins.

All the cabins they stumbled upon were far off the beaten track, and each one was uniquely different from the other. Some were better furnished than others, with at least one cot, if they were lucky, and frequently a nice old tin wood stove. If they were lucky, the last people there left enough dry wood for them to take the chill off. Some were very well made, though not as aesthetically as a Tiny House, and others were slapped together quickly by someone many years before as temporary living quarters, while they fished and rested during their canoeing journeys.

Most of these cabins were so remote that they were mostly unused, so Gerard and his friend felt like they “owned” them, like the Philosophy Cabin, as they called it. They also felt like they “owned” the trickling brook, which they named Philosophy River. “Whose cabin is it?” someone once asked. “It’s ours,” they replied, “as are the pond, the forest, and the swamp.” They were like two kids on a playground where nobody goes.

While in my twenties, I had just such a remote wild cabin experience. I do not know the history of that tiny cabin, but surely someone had lived there at one time. It was pretty shabby and slightly tilted by the time I discovered it, but it served my purpose of needing to escape to a quiet place. It had no running water or electricity, of course, so occasionally I would use facilities at an old mill house nearby; otherwise, I roughed it. It was there that I wrote a song, which I still sing with my guitar now and then:

 

“In the morning of my youth I turned to you,

Sought the beauty of the deep and the friendly woods,

Sang your praises when I saw the sun that rose

Like a blessed lamp, sacred light upon the trees.”

Such experiences are indeed sacred, though sometimes lonely. Fortunately, I happened to have my two sweet dogs with me as companions. Of course, they loved the woods, too. Now, many years later, I live in a large house, where I raised three children, but I still long for the simplicity of a one-room cabin. Actually, I do have a nice little cottage, as I call it, just steps away from the house. Just the other day, I made a nice fire in the wood stove there. These days, I am not so eager to live there due to injuries I acquired over the years; but, every now and then, I heat up the place while I contemplate my life.

Prior to this little cottage, I had a yurt put up out back. “So what is a yurt?” you ask. A yurt is a round structure that is used by sheep and camel farmers in Mongolia, easily taken down and put back up, as they migrate in the summer and winter months. The concept is much like that of a tipi. Modeled after those ancient yurts, my yurt was a contemporary structure, sold by the Colorado Yurt Company, and brought here in pieces by an 18-wheeler—not very rustic, eh? However, it served its purpose for me as an escape from the “big house” and was beautiful inside. Outside, it did not look like much, but inside, it had antique furniture, a large yodel wood stove, a large bed, a sofa, a desk, tongue-and-groove wood floors, and many personal items. Sadly, five years ago, it was completely destroyed by a fire. Nothing lasts forever.

Memories last longer than things, and the memories I have of such one-room, wild “cabins” will last a lifetime. They served me well as part of my spiritual journey through life, and, like Gerard Kenney, they provided an escape to—not from—the wilderness, a chance to become better acquainted with myself and with nature.

I highly recommend Gerard Kenney’s book, Lake of the Old Uncles, especially if you are unable to have a wilderness experience yourself—he will take you there!

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! 

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Christine Maccabee

Consumer Power:

“Think Globally, Act Locally”

Some days I go shopping for food, with enough time to look at the ingredients; whereas, other days, I just speed in, get my few items, and speed out. I love the days I have time to be more discriminate, for, as I take more time to shop, I am giving myself an education as well.

This past year, I have been focusing on not buying anything with palm oil in it. Palm oil production has more than one problem associated with it. After four decades of production, a very small percentage of palm producers are exploring less damaging practices, but the majority have bulldozed close to 70 percent of the rainforests in Indonesia and Malaysia. Such practices are killing and displacing orangutans, elephants, and every other wild creature that depends on the diversity only a rainforest can provide. These mega-companies also use lots of toxic chemicals, as well as inordinate amounts of precious water, affecting the health of underpaid workers and surrounding communities, both human and wild.

Lately, I have been using my consumer power as a modest protest. Sadly, I am no longer able to eat my favorite fig bars due to the palm oil ingredient. However, it is well worth the sacrifice. Some people might ridicule me, saying that my boycott of such products won’t make a difference, but my values and my determination are unrelenting.

If more people knew about this problem, then perhaps the boycott of palm oil products would make a difference. However, even if more sustainable practices are employed, habitat destruction will continue. As we all know, rainforest destruction proceeds at a disturbing rate, globally. Already, the palm oil corporation has its eye on forests in the Amazon, Congo, and Borneo, according to Guardian Sustainable Business News.

Just so you know, palm oil can also be found in margarine, some soaps, and even fuels, so read the labels if this is a concern of yours.

Many of us are familiar with the herbicides and pesticides that unfortunately are used with abandon on agri-business crops. Of course, when we buy our food, we never really know what chemicals were used on/in our purchases, so my approach to this problem is, first and foremost, getting accurate information. Did you know that some commonly used herbicides have glyphosate as a primary ingredient? According to a highly appraised book, White Wash, by Carey Gillam, this commonly used herbicide is carcinogenic (World Health Organization 2015 report). In 1974, it was considered a wonder weed killer, as “safe as table salt” (Monsanto). In her book, Carey Gillam writes, “Testing shows glyphosate residues in bagels, honey, oatmeal, eggs, cookies, flour, beer, infant formula, and the chemical was found in 90 percent of the pregnant women tested.”

So, what are we, as consumers, to do, anyway? For me, the answers are discrimination and action. I will be careful to consume as few chemicals in my food as possible, which means mostly buying organic foods and growing my own. I also plan to write to the companies that use them, asking them not to. In other words, I will use consumer power.

There is an ongoing war against the health of our planet and our people that must be acknowledged and regulated.

I remember the old slogan, “Think Globally, Act Locally,” and it still holds true these days as much as it did back when. But don’t worry, as you go shopping, for you are in good company. Remember, we are all in this together and we can all make a difference.

 

Christine encourages you to come to the films to be shown during Thurmont’s Fall Environmental Film Series. Watch for the dates and times as advertised in newspapers and fliers. Thank You. She also invites you to come up to visit her Sanctuary for Wildlife and Native Plant Preserve, just ten minutes north of Thurmont. You can write to her to set up a visit at songbirdschant@gmail.com.

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.

On The Wild Side

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by Christine Maccabee

How Does Your Garden Grow?

Once the gardening bug bites, you will never be the same again. Most of my best friends are gardeners, and each one has a long tale to tell of their gardening ventures. Each one could write a book, and each book would be as unique as the person writing it. Naturally, each garden is unique as well.

I think of my friend, Frances, in Westminster. Many years ago, she lived in the New Windsor countryside, atop a grassy knoll with a view. Her home was one of the oldest log houses in Maryland, and Frances had multiple gardens surrounding it, from clematis dripping off an arbor to herb and flower gardens just out her back door, to a veggie garden between the cabin and the garage. Her love of her gardens and their beauty directly reflected her beauty and determination, for gardening is not always a bed of roses, as most gardeners know!

To say that gardening is in her blood is putting it lightly. Frances eventually had to leave her precious cabin and gardens due to debilitating illnesses, but she now has new gardens surrounding her home in a suburb of Westminster. These gardens are a source of joy and healing for her, and she literally could not live without them. Whenever I visit her, I am amazed at the diversity of plant life she has in such a tiny area. The birds, butterflies, and bees are also a joy to watch, as we sit on her back porch for a visit.

Thurmont also has its share of garden lovers, whether they grow borders along the sidewalk, in small areas around the base of the house, in planters, or even in larger backyard areas. I remember how my parents had a victory garden after World War II, raising vegetables galore and raspberries from the old country. Of course, they would have done this without the war, as gardening was in their blood on both sides of our German families. They also had wonderful roses of many varieties, which sadly disappeared when my mother had to sell her property and move to a retirement home. Not all stories end happily.

There is much emphasis these days on raising wild native plants, and I am but one advocate. If you were to visit my property, you would see bumble bees of every size and variety and other interesting tiny pollinators, such as the tiny green metallic bees and the bee fly. One day I saw the green metallic bees flying from one purple comfrey flower to another, their green bodies shining in the sunlight, loaded with pollen on their undersides. Also, I am astounded at the variety of pollinators, such as the fascinating hummingbird moth that visit the lavender flowers of wild bergamot every summer. Also, the Japanese beetles seem to prefer the wild evening primroses that grow in abundance, instead of my roses, thank goodness. Every day, I go around to the primroses and capture the beetles in a container with one inch of water in the bottom. I feed these crunchy little morsels to my chickens that eat them enthusiastically. Good protein source!

I have seen beautiful gardens come and go in Thurmont, mostly because the gardener dies or must go to live in a retirement home. One such garden on Hammaker Street was the admiration of many. The owner grew vegetables and flowers in abundance, with just enough lawn to stroll. Another garden on Church Street across from Good Will had the most beautiful rose hedges and arbors, but sadly they are no longer there. Things change—not always for the better—so now it is our turn to create a place of beauty with the little piece of earth we own or rent. You may have seen the gardens full to overflowing on Carroll Street, especially the one on the corner, just before crossing the railroad tracks. Every inch is filled with plants, overflowing across the street around the telephone poles. Ah, such love.

So, how does your garden grow? Sometimes, it is a real effort to continue on in the heat of the summer, but most committed gardeners labor on, though they may occasionally complain about the bugs and the heat. Harvesting and canning, freezing or drying, the vegetables, herbs, and fruits of our labor takes time and patience, but, oh, the reward when the winter cold comes! Gardening is not all fun and games, but when the gardening gets tough, the tough get gardening.

So, guess it is time to stop writing and go catch me a few bugs for the chickens. I wish happy gardening experiences to all my gardening compatriots. You are one of a kind!

On The Wild Side

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by Christine Maccabee

“Earth Stars”

Ever since my early twenties, I have been fascinated by flowers of every variety and, thus, began seriously investigating them. At that time, I was also reading literature about the ancient tradition of mandalas as a meditation tool in India. The mandala has a center that symbolizes the source of life, be it Allah, God, the Great Spirit, or whatever one might call it. The center holds everything else together, like the spoke of a wheel, and without it, things would fall apart and there would be chaos. From that center radiates Creation, or life, in all of its amazing diversity and beauty. Similarly, most flowers have this same feature, with centers from which reproduction occurs in the form of seeds. That center of nectar, pollen, and seeds serves the purpose of ongoing sustenance, thus enabling ongoing life for myriad life forms, including, of course, people.

Captivated by this reality, I created mandalas from various parts of flowers, using stamen, pistil, petals, leaves, and bracts, basically dissecting the flowers carefully and pressing the various parts. Each design I made was unique, and many reminded people of snowflakes. If you look at a flower closely, especially those that radiate perfectly symmetrically from the center, then you will understand my fascination. In fact, there are people who seriously meditate on flowers, thus creating more of a sense of balance in their lives. For me, creating mandalas was a waking and a working meditation, keeping me centered and focused as I created each one; I sold hundreds of framed pieces over a period of twenty years. Now I simply grow flowers.

This summer, I had a newcomer to my gardens: the Morning Star Sedge, a native grass that I did not plant, but which was brought here by a bird, no doubt. I discovered it quite by accident, along a pathway down to my main garden, and was astonished when I saw it. It is not a flower at all, but a type of native grass, used ornamentally by some people in their landscaping. The seed head is beautiful, very star-like and perfectly symmetrical. You may be familiar with its graceful but sturdy grasses from which the stems of the seed heads emerge. The seed heads are a lovely green, which turn chocolate brown by late summer. By early autumn, I am sure that the wild birds will be enjoying those seeds, as well as the seeds of the chicory and woodland sunflowers, which I also have here in my gardens as habitat.

As anyone who reads this column knows, I am passionate about preserving habitat for pollinators and birds. Here on my 11+ acreage, I am purposely allowing close to one hundred wild native plants to complete their entire life cycles, from flower to seed. Such diversity of plant life—no matter how tall and gangly or small—sustains the health of a host of animals, insects, and humans, in this, our rainforest. By August, the final show will begin and I look forward to it.

I look forward to witnessing thousands of tiny Aster flower stars, and hearing the profound sound of untold number of wings whirring as the bees fuel up for the coming inevitable cold weather. The essential Golden Rod flowers will also begin blooming (Golden Rod is not a major pollen producer that creates allergies, as some people mistakenly think), and I will watch as the Monarch butterflies feed on them before their long journeys south. Did you know there are, or were, 2,687 species of Aster and 16 species of Golden Rods in America; on my property, I have about 5 species of each.

The beautiful earthly flower stars, besides providing food for a wide variety of pollinators and birds, are a source of inspiration to humans. Also, it is well known that some have important medicinal properties, such as the Coneflower. I will soon gather and dry the flowers and leaves of my Coneflowers, which will be added to teas I make from other herbs I grow. Coneflowers provide Echinacea, which is important as an immune system enhancing herb. The root is the most potent, so here and there, I will pull some out for their roots.

Unfortunately, there is an ongoing war being conducted against Earth’s stars, in the form of herbicides, pesticides, and habitat loss. Next month, I will continue speaking for the wildflowers and the health of our planet, our people, and all our relations.

Meanwhile, I suggest you walk slowly and often in wild places where wild things grow, and don’t forget to look to the stars!

On The Wild Side

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by Christine Maccabee

What is Delawnification?

First of all, delawnification is not a word. However, its meaning should be pretty clear. At the People’s Climate March in Washington, D.C., this April, one of the speakers talked about the importance of creating and allowing more habitat for native plants and reducing the size of our lawns.

Considering that land as habitat for wildlife is being swiftly devoured by development around the world—turning forests into expansive grassy areas, or into plantations for palm oil, or into parking lots, or you name it—the idea of delawnification is a good idea.

Now, before I offend lawn lovers of the world, I want to say I am not anti-lawn. I understand the need for lawn areas for children to play and adults to play golf or croquet and other polite games of society. Lawns do have a place in our lives. The problem with huge expansive lawns of extravagant size, acre upon acre of lawn, where no one walks or plays, is that those lawns gobble up millions of gallons of gasoline, polluting the air as well as the peace and quiet we all need. Noise pollution is a very real thing in the suburbs, and even the countryside where I live.

When I first moved to my country home twenty-eight years ago, I went crazy with grass seed in order to control erosion of the soil around our home. Being on a slope, it seemed essential. I remember being horrified by the interminable rain that threatened to wash away all of our topsoil, so I was out in the rain throwing grass seeds like a maniac.

However, after stabilizing the slopes, I began to see possibilities of creating large areas of wildflowers, and so began my personal process of delawnification. I killed off grass by putting down black plastic on those same slopes I had sown in grass years before. Leaving the plastic on for one year, I was amazed how wonderfully rich the soil had become underneath it. This actually is a great time for one to put plastic down. By the autumn, you can lift it and find nothing but friable, rich soil. Then, throw a nice mix of wildflower seeds in the soil, and voila! The following spring, there will be flowers galore as habitat for bees and butterflies. There will always be volunteer plants as well, such as daisy fleabane and golden rods, perhaps queen ann’s lace (a non-native, but then, so am I) and maybe even wild wine berries (yum!).

In my meadows, I learned to identify and make teas using medicinals like yarrow, vervain, purple clover, and St. John’s Wort. On one bank, I began growing cucumbers and squash, mulching them with straw and manure from the goat pen and, yes, grass clippings! Grass clippings make a wonderful natural mulch. Also, planting trees on large parcels of land creates shade, as well as multiple advantages for birds and insects, even hummingbirds. I have many gorgeous mimosa trees now, which are a magnet for swallowtail butterflies and hummingbirds. If one allows wild plants to grow between the trees, mowing but once a year in the fall, amazing plants may emerge. Flowers such as black-eyed susans, phlox, even fern in wet areas, may come forth without trying. I have not mowed my old four-acre hay field for two years now due to the small dogwood trees coming up. Once I identify any small trees and protect them from deer, then I will mow in between all trees in the autumn.

The mowing of old fields once a year is especially important to keep the invasives controlled. I learned the hard way why that is important (no details here).

Enough advice as to how you can delawnify your lawn. It does take effort, and, yes, it is not everyone’s cup of tea, but it is one definite way to contribute to the health of our precious planet. Some people dedicate a small portion of their yards to flowering plants—native and non-native—and the result can be lovely. Indeed, I have seen some amazing yards around town this year. Yes, you have something very valuable (not in dollars and cents) if you own land, so have fun making a plan to expand your botanical haven.

As I always say, every little bit helps…and Mother Earth thanks you!

On The Wild Side

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by Christine Maccabee

Springtime!

To say that spring is my favorite time of year is putting it mildly. I love spring and can barely keep myself indoors on a beautiful day like today. Every morning, the birds create a symphony of music, too incredible for words. Then, as early evening approaches, the frogs and toads begin tuning up for their cascade of mating sounds, which to my ears is music—profound music of the spheres and an expression of our earth’s on-going mind-blowing beauty.

Several years ago, I began recording bird songs, notating them on staff paper. Luckily, I have a good ear and lots of training in timings and keys, as bird songs can be very complex; each bird, usually the male, has a repertoire unique to itself and the occasion of calling for a mate or declaration of territory. However, I am of the opinion—and am quite sure it is true—that sometimes birds simply sing on and on just for the joy of it!

To say that I live for spring is true for me, and likely many others. No longer do we have to pull on heavy boots, layers of clothes, hats, and gloves. Devoted mothers no longer have to make sure their children are dressed for twenty-degree weather as they wait for the bus. And the elderly, who sometimes struggle just to get dressed, are freed up as well. Things are lightening up, you might say.

Yes, keeping me inside today will be next to impossible, so I will take a break from typing and go out to plant onions. I must have my store of onions for the winter. See you soon…

Well, I am back, but I only got so far as hanging out the laundry; no onions planted yet. I have so many thoughts, so many feelings today because of spring; I am not certain which song to sing first. I am like the mockingbird with his repertoire of untold numbers of songs, twittering about today. Maybe I have spring fever. It has been known to happen.

As I chased the cat away from the bird feeder, while hanging clothes, I thought of my good friend Walter. Whenever I would ask him if he knew what sort of bird was singing, he always would reply, “Oh, that’s a Tweety Bird!” Funny. Guess that’s me today, twittering away about everything, and nothing.

Now it’s time to get serious, right? Or maybe not. After days and days of stress and worry, we all need time off to go take that long walk or simply plant petunias. I could go on and on about the wild edibles you can put in your salads (violet and dandelion flower petals are so rich in vitamins and minerals). I could instruct you as to how to build a cold frame, so as to eat salad greens all winter, or inspire you to be a seed saver. Or I could tell you the secrets of planting onions properly (I once had a caretaker here who insisted that he knew how to plant onion sets; he told me to leave him alone, and that year, we had no onions because he planted the bulbs upside down!).

However, I need this downtime today to simply enjoy the beauty of this incredible springtime; time to renew my spirit after some rough times. Every day, there are things to deal with: some simple problems and some seemingly insurmountable. But, somehow, we surmount them. I just finished reading a book called Grandma Gatewood’s Walk, and I now have a new heroine, who surmounted far more problems than I ever had. After far too many years of horrible abuse by her husband and devotedly raising eleven children, in 1955, at the age of sixty-seven, she completely turned her back on it all. Setting out in Georgia with a 15-pound sack of essentials, thrown over her shoulder, and wearing tennis shoes, she hiked the entire length of the Appalachian Trail. She even did it two more times and became renowned for trailblazing in Ohio.

I figure if Emma Gatewood could do that, I can deal with my little problems. Think I will just plant those onions and then go take a nice long walk!

On The Wild Side

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by Christine Maccabee

Faith in the Seeds:A Message of Hope for Earth Day 2017

One of my favorite short stories is The Man Who Planted Trees by Jean Giono. A wonderful half-hour film was created around this story, through the use of masterful and inspiring watercolor animation. It takes place in France and is about a solitary man, Elzeard Bouffier, who slowly and quietly reforests the mountains and valleys where he lives. On land devastated by clear-cutting, charcoal industry, war, and ignorance, Bouffier planted thousands of acorns, as well as seeds and saplings of other trees. He continued planting right on through the two world wars until his death as a very old man. He also raised bees and watched as springs and streams came back to the arid land, nourishing flower seeds just waiting for water to flow again. He created life, which brought people and their families back to the abandoned villages.

Monsieur Bouffier, though a fictional character, is symbolic of the many heroic activities by people throughout the world, serving to counteract and, hopefully, maintain ecological balance in a world where consumerism and human activities are taking a major toll. Reforestation efforts in Central America by the wonderful New Forest Project are bringing back the rainforests in El Salvador and other war-torn countries. Here in the USA, cities and towns are being encouraged to become Tree Cities, and our town of Thurmont is passing qualifications to be one of those cities, with tree-planting activities on-going.

Personally, I have faith in seeds as an important component in our efforts to take care of our planet. I am a seed saver of old variety and heirloom vegetable seeds, as well as flower seeds of all sorts, especially ones on the wild side, otherwise known as Natives. According to the Native Gardeners Companion catalogue, which offers customers nearly seven hundred native species, “native plants co-evolved with native insects and wildlife and are deeply dependent on one another, creating healthy eco-systems.” Much like Elzeard Bouffier, we too can do something special on our individual properties, whether with seeds or transplanting bare-rooted or potted native plants. Working together, we all can create vitally important habitat for wildlife with healthy eco-systems.

However, nothing can beat Mother Nature when it comes to saving seeds. She is the ultimate seed-saver. Perhaps you have heard  the remarkable story of some lupine seeds that were found in the frozen arctic soil. Even though these seeds were shown by radio-carbon dating to be 10,000 years old, some of them still grew when planted in 20th century soil!

Reading up about lupine flowers, which are in the legume family, I learned that they are the host plant, as well as clovers (also in the legume family), for the life-cycles of various blue butterflies. So, I began planting blue lupine seeds, and I let my clovers grow in patches. Over the last several years, I have seen many tiny pygmy blues and one illusive eastern tailed-blue, so I know they have found my property! Such are the rewards of one lone naturalist…

When I first read the story of Elzeard Bouffier, I thought he was an actual person. Of course, I was disappointed to learn his was a fictional story, but to make it actual is now my challenge, and everyone’s challenge. All we have to do is care enough to do something. As I always say, every little bit helps, but if you can do more, that’s wonderful.

So, be inspired this spring, and have faith in the seeds!