“I once had a sparrow alight upon my shoulder for a moment, while I was hoeing in a village garden, and I felt that I was more distinguished by that circumstance that I should have been by any epaulet I could have worn.

~Henry David Thoreau

This story most appropriately is being told the week of Thoreau’s birthday. (He was born July 12, 1817 in Concord, Massachusetts.) Somehow I don’t think it’s a stretch to think he would approve.

So, what, you might be thinking, is that blue photo above? It is, my dearest readers, a Pond Skater. Yes, it is. He appeared some three weeks ago in the middle of the doggie wading pool. Normally that pool is being used thusly:

But with the sudden inexplicable and surprise visit of a pond skater, most doggie activity was curtailed, short of Conner’s occasional slurping of cold water, while I stood by making sure he didn’t drink down Mr. Pond Skater.

Honestly, I was completely bewildered how this tiny creature arrived in the middle of a backyard into a wading pool. Utterly flummoxed. I will never understand how that happened. A surveying of the closest body of water, a creek, offered no answers. None. Bone dry. Truly not a drop of water to explain this appearance. Oh, the need is clear. But the deliverance? I never saw one indication this little bug could fly. So?

The Zen of it was here he was. And being wired as Keen Nature Observer/Her Eye is on the Sparrow/Strong Mother Archetype, I felt kind of honored he’d arrived here, and I felt it was the least I could do to learn what I could and see to his well being. Wouldn’t you? Maybe not.

The first big task arose after a few days when I discovered teeny squiggly things in the water. Thinking first they might be a source of food I was relieved, but shortly realized they were mosquito larvae. Yikes. This entailed going out in the early morning, scooping up the Pond Skater into a big bowl, and setting him aside while I emptied the water into the adjacent garden. Nice. I’ve just refreshed the entire wading pool for a bug.

Next challenge was to be sure he had some food. At first I labored over this, thinking of the cabbage whites that flittered about, whom I’d just paid homage to in my Butterfly Journal post, and was not keen on offering one up to a pond bug. But no sooner had I thought it than a small one seemed to succumb in the wading pool. And that was that. A hover bee followed. I honestly wanted to rescue the hover bee, as I did see him fall in the drink, but before I had long to contemplate the Pond Skater rushed headlong over the water to the poor hover bee and within seconds it was still. I’d read about those pinchers. In the mornings that followed it was not too hard to find an occasional cucumber beetle in the roses or an earwig under a pot to offer to him. But how long is this going on? Hmmm.

Each morning when I went out to throw a ball for the Border Collies, I’d check on the Pond Skater, and he remained happily skating about. I even put a chair next to the wading pool so he’d have some respite from the hot afternoon sun.

But, alongside my generosity and respect and interest grew a voice that said, “Really? A pet bug? Maybe you should take him somewhere.” Where?

This morning inspiration moved me to catch him in a bucket, put him in the car, and head out to a nearby lake. Weird, but appropriate. Surely this is better.

Parked near the water’s edge, I walked out to a stone stairway that led directly into the water. Perfect.

Gently immersing the bucket into the water, I tipped it ever so slowly and out he swam into his huge new home. Wow. As I watched him make his way into the current my attention was immediately taken by three ducks who noticed me at water’s edge. Uh-oh. Maybe I should have thought this through.

I am suddenly realizing that these ducks are all conditioned to think that anyone along the water must be there to feed them. No! No! Go back. By now I cannot see the Pond Skater and have to imagine he’s safely well beyond this group of hungry ducks. Or these, now also wondering what’s afoot. Here they come!

At a certain point after one has done one’s best it is time to let go. Here is where I have left Pond Skater. This is his new home. If he becomes dinner for a duck or fish or bird I will console myself that Pond Skaters have been on the planet Earth for 55 MILLION years. They know what they are doing.

Pond Skater is somewhere out there.

I drive home reflecting on the immediacy of Pond Skater’s reality. He did not enter the large body of water fearful or even processing. He simply accepted what was and responded accordingly. A lesson that would not have escaped the observation of Mr. Henry David Thoreau.

Love and creature blessings,
Kathryn xoxoxo

Footnote: Julie’s comment below regarding what Pond Skaters are called in Ohio (water striders) had me googling Pond Skater to discover his other names, which included water bugs, magic bugs, pond skaters, skaters, skimmers, water scooters, water skaters, water skeeters, water skimmers, water skippers, water spiders, or Jesus bugs! Why, I asked myself, would they be called Jesus bugs? Dawning on me: because they can walk on water! 🙂

Book Notes: If you have enjoyed this post you might want to consider purchasing a copy of Kathryn’s book Plant Whatever Brings You Joy, available on Amazon as a Kindle edition or as a Real Book found at Estrella Catarina. Thank you.

Posted on July 18th, 2011 by Kathryn
Filed under: Animals | 10 Comments »

“When one tugs at a single thing in nature, he finds it attached to the rest of the world.”
— John Muir

Donald Worster begins at the beginning. For John Muir the beginning was the High Street of Dunbar in the Scottish lowlands, born 21 April 1838. “He came forth into a world of dressed stone, cobbled streets, and somber controlling civilization, where everything green was carefully tucked away in back gardens.” Muir’s pragmatic father taught his children to grow vegetables in their back yard. Muir and his siblings each had his or her own small plot and learned the value of planting seeds and raising their own food. This, then, was their primary introduction to Nature.

In February 1849 young Muir’s life takes a drastic turn when his father announces to the family that they are moving the next day to America. Muir’s young life unfolds in Wisconsin as a pioneer, working long hours and day after day helping to establish a homestead on 160 acres his father purchases at $1.25 an acre.

Eventually Muir arrives at that point in every young male’s life where he reaches a crossroads. He must choose his own path or stay with the family. As you are probably inclined to know Muir opts for a life of adventure, of botany, of glacier study, of passion for nature and an unexpected destiny that has influenced the entire of America, resulting in the preservation of vast tracts of precious wildlands through the establishment of a national park system. His most important point of entry to this very large calling was most likely his discovery of Yosemite Valley.

“Everybody needs beauty as well as bread, places to play in and pray in, where nature may heal and give strength to body and soul alike.”
~John Muir, The Yosemite (1912)

So within A Passion for Nature: The Life of John Muir one finds what one would expect to find in such a lofty undertaking, the story of the life of John Muir. What one is not expecting to find, however, are the many threads that influence the life of this extraordinary man. For Donald Worster is a master historian and a scholar extraordinaire. And with these gifts he has woven an inordinately complex context of the political and religious and societal influences which bore upon and spoke to and challenged John Muir. The poets and writers, as one might imagine, include Thoreau, Emerson and his own precious Scotsman, Robert Burns. What I’m certain Muir himself did not expect was that his life kept expanding into ever widening circles attracting and maintaining close connections with the Rich and Powerful of the Day. And therein lies his story.

Muir and Theodore Roosevelt at Glacier Point, Yosemite, 1903 (Library of Congress)

To try to summarize or create a synopsis of a nearly 500 page scholarly tome is not going to be the focus of this post. I say, read the book. What I must share, however, is that this book has had and continues to have a profound impact on me. I’m still digesting and I suspect I will be digesting over the next year. For on so many levels this book resonates with my core. Not simply as a gardening blogger; not simply as a nature lover or the pantheist I know myself to be. This is personal.

John Muir w/dog at home in Martinez, CA
John Muir and I share a deep connection with the San Francisco Bay Area. When I read of his living in San Francisco where he could “see Angel Island” I am immediately cast into my memories of living in Sausalito until my daughter was five, in a lovely small house overlooking the San Francisco Bay, and particularly Angel Island. Antonia and I both spent many years listening to the fog horns on that bay, taking delight in small boats traversing the bay, and watching that glistening precious small island as John Muir did. Muir Woods were part of our terrain. As Muir’s story unfolds in Contra Costa County, increasingly his widening circles embrace my own. Imagine my delight and surprise in the discovery that so very many of the writers, trees (the great sequoias), rivers, roads, valleys, creatures that inspired John Muir are the very same that have long touched and inspired me. I say this humbly and reverently. As Muir was inspired to write of what he had seen and experienced, particularly his own deep conviction that nature was inherently wise, are the very threads, however simple, that I have committed to harkening to myself in my own writings. The impulse lives on.

“Civilization has not gone very deep as yet, but we are making some slight progress heavenward.” ~John Muir

Worster writes in his epilogue:

“All those efforts as nature preservation, protecting the high and the mighty, the extraordinary and the ordinary, the obscure and the beloved, flow out of the worldview of liberal democracy. Modern societies have not only fought to preserve Nature in all her forms but also to open those preserved places to any and all human beings, regardless of class or ethnicity, far more so than our universities, country clubs, or gated communities. In that preservation effort they have acknowledged a moral obligation beyond the species. Americans, like other peoples, have followed Muir’s youthful trail of passion toward a more comprehensive egalitarianism in our relations with the earth.”

This is a mighty book, dear readers. It is vital, inspiring and an important documentary of our own history. All and any working in the Earth would be well advised to make time to read it.

Love and Nature blessings,
Kathryn xoxox

Good News! Oxford University Press has generously agreed to send along a copy of A Passion for Nature for a lucky winner! On Sunday July 2nd I will put the names of all those who have left (legitimate) comments on this post in a hat. Winner pulled from the hat will receive a copy of this marvelous book!

AND THE WINNER IS!!!!: Julie, a biology professor in Ohio and perfect recipient of this wonderful biography! Congratulations, Julie!!

Posted on June 25th, 2011 by Kathryn
Filed under: Book Notes | 13 Comments »