Hot and Humid

Beltane                                         Waxing Planting Moon

Savannah has moved into the twin cities.  The jet stream has a ridge bulging into southern Canada and right over our northern border.  That sucks the hot, sticky Gulf air right up the mid-section of the country and plops it on us.  Some weather service sites have us exceeding the all time high of 87 tomorrow, perhaps 88 or even 90.

While those of you in the humid tropics, say Singapore or Bangkok, or even Georgia, may laugh at such a high, temps above 75 are serious business here in the northern heartland.  We don’t mind a few each year, just to remember; but when they come early and stay late like a guest overstaying their welcome, well, sir, we’d prefer they just kick back on down to the Big Easy.  We don’t need their kind in our state, not for long.

No bee work today.  Rainy and overcast in the am while too windy this afternoon.  I’ll head out tomorrow or Monday if we get half an hour of calmer weather.

Staying Within My Skill Set

May 22, 2010              Beltane                    Waxing Planting Moon

While reading an article about Trevor-Rope, a British historian,  I learned that Gibbon wrote Decline and Fall in an attempt to answer the problem raised by the Enlightenment’s idea of progress.  This triggered, for some reason, an echo of the talk by Siah Armajani at the MIA a couple of weeks ago.  A successful artist and philosophically inclined Iranian, he said, “I don’t know how to make legs. [this in response to a question wondering why there were no legs on the figure he said represented himself in an installation currently on display at the MIA in the Until Now exhibition.]  I try to stay within my skill set.”

I’ve not tried to stay within my skill set in that I’ve lived what I call a valedictory life, one typified by reaching to another skill, like say, beekeeping or vegetable gardening or becoming a docent, rather than following the trail laid down by my more obvious gifts:  scholar, poet, writer, political activist, monk [that is, a person oriented toward the inner world].  That’s not to say I’ve abandoned them, I haven’t; but I keep myself off balance by continually being on what I love, a steep learning curve.

This lead me to wonder just what my skill set is and what I would be doing if I chose to remain within it.  A notion came to me, though it’s not the first notion along these lines that I’ve had, but I thought some about what it would mean to stick with it, see it through to the end.

My study contains stacks and shelves of books arranged because they speak to a general interest I have:  the Enlightenment and modernism, the Renaissance, Carl Jung, American philosophy, matters Chinese, Japanese, Cambodian and Indian, Poetry.  You get the idea.

Ian Boswell, a recent Mac grad, and pianist for Groveland UU, said he loved my presentations because they presented a “clear stream of ideas.”  I said, “The history of ideas.”

There is a core skill set:  I have a decent grasp of the history of certain big ideas in Western thought and a much less comprehensive, but still extant, notion of the history of certain ideas in the East as well.  I can communicate about these ideas in a manner accessible to most.

So.  Put that together  with new definitions/understandings of the sacred, the reenchantment of the world, an earth/cosmos oriented approach to the inner life, an historical and ecology examination of Lake Superior, Thomas Berry’s Great Work, a long immersion in the Christian and liberal faith traditions, a now substantial learning in art history, an awareness of and some skill in the political process and work on translating Ovid’s Metamorphosis, an idea begins to present itself.

A series of essays, monographs loosely tied together through a historical, ecological and political look at Lake Superior might use the Lake as a particular example.  It could be the thread that held together thoughts on emergence as a redefinition of the sacred, a symbol reenchanted in another {this is where the work on Ovid could play a role.], a place where the Great Work can focus in another [this is where the political would be important], a look at the history of ideas related to lakes and nations, placing Lake Superior in an art  historical context by examining photographs, drawings, paintings, poetry and literature related to it.

It’s a thought, anyhow.

Fly Dragon Fly

Beltane                                    Waxing Planting Moon

Under the cover of a cloudy sky and a gentle rain I planted tomatoes, peppers and alyssum, spread moss as a mulch and cut the scapes off the garlic.  It’s hard to believe but the garlic will be ready to harvest the middle to late part of next month.

I always turn my computers off during a thunderstorm.  Better safe than sorry.  When I came down at 2:30 to crank them up again after the loud thunder bangers we had crashing through around noon, the clouds had dissipated.  I looked up and saw a fleet of winged insects flying to and fro, everywhere, just outside the windows to my east and to my south.  I went out to see what they were.  Dragonflies.  They flew in various directions, scouring, I imagine, for recently hatched mosquitoes.

The dragon fly has a warm spot in my heart not only because they eat mosquitoes, though that’s enough, but their bi-wing construction and hovering flight also appeal to me.  They have just a tinge of magic and the exotic.

As I planted the tomato and pepper transplants in the suntrap, I happened on a small dark toad.  He had been happily ensconced under the bale of sphagnum moss that I moved when I begin to spread it.  He looked around, hopped a bit and stopped.  I told him I didn’t mean to uncover his hiding place and that I was happy he had chosen our garden in which to live.  He acted like he didn’t hear me.

The Weekend Ahead

Beltane                                   Waxing Planting Moon

Today will see planting under the planting moon:  tomatoes and peppers, alyssum and butternut squash.  Unless it’s too breezy and/or stays rainy this will also be a bee day, too.  I have to continue reversing Colony 1’s hive boxes until July, check the feeder pail in the package colony and replace the new hive box I put on Colony 2.  Part of my deal with the woodenware assembler (Kate) is that I put foundations in the frames and drill my own one inch hole in the hive boxes.  Oops.  Put a hive box on without a hole.  Shouldn’t be a problem to swap it out with a new on in which I have cut a hole.

Gotta head over to Northern Tool right now and pick up the wagon that we’ll use the garden tractor will pull.  We have a young man, Ray, earning money for college.  Which turns out to mean, I think I wrote earlier, trade school.  He mows the lawn so we can change up the lawn tractor and let it become a donkey.  Back in the day I moved garden material myself with a wheelbarrow or we had sons here to do it, but now we’re going to use mechanical help.