Lift

My Brooklyn boyfriend from Bay Ridge has always been scared of the country, though he was loathe to admit it to me when we dated, fearing a lesser stature than myself in just about everything. It was nonsensically competitive, and therefore, doomed to fail. He'd complain about the crickets being too loud for him to sleep well at my mother's house in upstate New York, which made traveling with him exceptionally laborious, as our round-trip flight on "McAir" bore out.

How would he fare out west? A family holiday found my father springing for a ski trip to New Mexico while we were in college, in accommodation of our tastes that were more sophisticated than West Bumblef-ck, Texas could provide. The people were so incredibly rude to us where they lived that we couldn't find any reasons to visit an extremely remote place that took pleasure in being a barren wasteland depressingly littered with broken farm equipment. Not even with free tickets and airfare provided.

So, one lucky Thanksgiving saw us flying pleasantly non-stop from New York with no small plane change-overs to beautiful New Mexico and the Sangre de Cristo mountain range, and what a gorgeous drive it was. The mountains were dusted with snow like a classic Christmas fable, and I thought we'd finally have the happy ending to a holiday story that had eluded us as a family since my parents bitter divorce.

The weather was perfect, too: plenty of light, powdery snow and bright southwestern sun. Until the last day of skiing. We had been doing surprisingly well for non-skiers, mastering the bunny slopes with its lower lifts that surrounded the lodge, which led us to greater heights on the very last day of our trip. Back then, lifts were small, open-air seats with one metal bar to hold onto, and the snow beneath us was strewn with poles, gloves, and hats stuck in the frozen no-man's land of the rising slope.

We'd stood at the bottom of a lift that disappeared into thick, heavy, snow clouds, wondering if it was worth it. I hated the height and the wildly careening seats blown about in the stiff winds, but we reasoned that we were here to experience this, so we might as well do it. Sure enough, my instincts proved correct once we reached the top: a deep squall of fiercely blowing drifts immediately froze our goggles, but we had to make a decision about quickly turning left or right, because the lift was swiftly moving with people skiing off.

We veered left, trying to see a sign half-covered in ice and snow, but as we started our descent, it was already too late. We were on a Black Diamond, expert-level trail covered in compacted blue ice that was impassable, and we were next to a cliff's edge.  We couldn't even skate across it with the edge of our ski blades, so we took the skis off and walked down the mountainside until we reached another lift with another lodge, and then the lights went out and the lift turned off.

Okay....now what? We went inside the abandoned lodge to think. What to do? I guess we could cross-country ski back to the main lodge and our hotel using the service road. Right? The lift operator finally told us the truth: we were seven miles outside of town, and the sun was quickly setting. Well, we thought, it might be okay....he was Mestizo and obviously unused to talking with tourists, but we were teenagers, so he offered us a ride in his old pickup truck instead. Thanks! I was psyched. This trip was over and I was done with skiing, quite possibly forever. Done. 

Of course, my passive-aggressive city boyfriend grumbled that we could have made it back on our own. "This isn't so bad! Look at how level the road is! Oh, Marie. This would've been easy!" The guide shot him a sharp look. "You don't realize how fast the temperature drops at night here." That was true, but I could already see my boyfriend stirring restlessly in his seat. He loved to argue. Yeah, but it wasn't that far....the guide began shaking his head. "You don't get it, son. Cold isn't the only thing that'll get you out here."

He lowered his window just as an orange disk of sun set behind the mountains through a silhouette of dense pines. "The wolves are telling each other we're here." As he said it, we could hear the thin, loud howl of the alpha male. "They're already tracking us, because we're in their territory. They know it's only the three of us." If you've never heard the rough barking of a pack as it runs, I don't know how to describe it to you. It was like nothing we'd ever heard before. Bart turned white, and shut up for the rest of the ride back. The lift operator continued talking with his window down, so we could hear them. "They're following us." And it was true. We heard them signalling to each other with the same speed that the truck drove on the snowy road, speeding across the mountaintops in pursuit, all the way back to the hotel.

Thank goodness for the kindness of strangers.
Happy All Saints Day.

Killer Bee

Killer Bee, indeed.

Last week, the honeysuckle bloomed sweetly after an evening rainfall. It drew me to it, and I wasn't the only one. I noticed a large bee on the hood of a white car parked nearby, as I picked some still-wet flowers for a home bouquet. It wasn't just any fat and lazy bumblebee either: this was a bad-ass hunter (like my encounter with juvenile dragonfly), with the same "no-moving-me" stance. I got closer to take a few pics, and it clamped down tighter on its' smaller bee meal like any champ would. That's part of the point about this life we lead: we consume other life as is dictated by the demands of our highly evolved physiology. That doesn't mean rampant, unchecked, voracious factory-style consumption, with a violent, vicious, slaughterhouse mentality. We don't need that much meat. 

Humans are omnivores, as adaptable and flexible as life is. We are very successful as a species because of it, after millennium following the animal herds we hunted for sustenance, grazing off locally available plants and nuts, gathering those things around us in the environment that we could carry and use. I'm not advocating some trendy "Neanderthal" diet (see our optimal diet here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Human_nutrition), because we are no longer those animals. But, I am most certainly arguing for a return to more compassionate farming, based on our ancient recognition that very few animals have the longevity our species Homo sapien* does. In response to these innate gifts, it is your duty as a caretaker of this planet to preserve biodiversity through mindful eating. Really, why would you do anything else? We have advanced based on empathy as one of our core strengths. This is no time to leave it behind. 

http://www.fieldandstream.com/photos/gallery/hunting/2008/10/bull-elk-takes-wolf-pack

Consider this example from the animal kingdom, from the sentient, sophisticated, and highly sensitive species that is Our Brother Wolf (see more about Native beliefs towards animals here: http://www.pantheism.net/paul/history/native-americans.htm). I saw a nature special on public television that followed one pack hunting a herd: suddenly, the fast-running Alpha broke away from the pack with a second-ranking, younger, smaller Omega to hunt an older Elk, also followed by a smaller, younger animal. After the rest of the pack tired of a futile chase, the pack sagely left their pursuits to meet up with the duo that had camped out in the brush to watch the old Elk huff and puff on the ground. Into the night, the pack maintained their vigil, to the amazement of the group filming them in this unprecedented and hereto unobserved animal drama that is the very stuff of life and death.

In the early hours of the morning the old bull died, and after an appropriate amount of time, so feasted a well-rested pack in rank order. It remains one of the greatest iterations of "Thou Shall Not Kill" I've ever seen. We can consume and live within our ecosystem by carefully observing the laws of nature that already exist here on Earth for us to follow. This world was created for your greater glory, as your destiny and birthright. Go for it! You do not have to live in guilt and shame. Learn more about life on earth, and live more. I want better for you, as I do for all life. It's worth it: http://www.uusc.org/ccc-resources-for-organizing-your-congregation-or-community, http://heritagefoodsusa.com/about_us.php, and http://compassionatefarming.org/.

Bigger bee beats smaller bee in the game of life.

*http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Homo_sapiens_%28disambiguation%29

Wolves

Tonight's a full moon, so it seems fitting to delve further into wolf country. By now, we know the myths that surround them—a wild beast morphing under moonlight. So saturated has it become in pop culture that no self-respecting vampire movie or t.v. show can call itself such without an appearance by the hairy counterpoint. While the vampire is ethereal, cold-blooded and slender, the werewolf is heat, pain, and sweat: earthy, alive, and hungry. They are like mankind at its worst, or perhaps our fantastical best, without suffering the moral implications of a blood feast, like so many hand-wringing vegans. A wolf hunts and eats, without any moral ambiguity, and why should there be? It's what predators are born to do.

Given the current climate, many a pseudo-scholar has entered into this fevered hothouse of best-selling books and movies. My favorite is a wacky British guy who has styled himself a real-life Wolfman, keeping a separate set of stinky scented clothes, so that he can enter pack territory without incident. Without the hammy acting, it's actually a fairly good representation of their society. I love this clip when he gives a pup howling lessons.

How cute is that wolf puppy? "Omigarsh" cute. Behind the kook factor, Shaun Ellis does ingratiate himself into wolf life, sort of like a grown up version of Julie of the Wolves. He reminds me of bear enthusiast Timothy Treadwell, who took too many risks after repeated warnings, ultimately killing himself and his girlfriend in Alaska. There's an incredible Werner Herzog documentary about this disturbed yet well-intentioned man called Grizzly Man. Because he obsessively filmed and taped, there's a chilling scene when his ex-lover hears his death throes through headphones, which were found at the campsite in a recorder. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Timothy_Treadwell.

After all, with nature one must be mature enough to accept that there are real differences between domesticated animals and those of the wild. I respect animals in wildlife by giving them their space, and I feel that this is most fitting. They have their nature, and we have ours. This distance makes me appreciate them all the more. Occasionally, I have seen this gap broached, and I find it to be most distasteful. During art school, a couple of self-righteous hippie types mated their female wolf-dog hybrid with a male wolf, which they treated as pets. When the female gave birth to a litter, she created a den in their kitchen and would not let them enter, forcing the grad students to take their meals elsewhere. "We haven't eaten in the kitchen in about a month!" If I was supposed to be impressed, it was a failure, because I thought to myself "Good. Arrogant idiots." 

As we sat in their chilly apartment, I carefully watched the male pacing around the small living room, eyeing me. Let me assure you readers, a wolf is not anything like a dog up close and personal. When I finally couldn't wait any longer to use the bathroom, the wolf startled a bit when I stood up, scaring me. The hippe dude scolded me (?!) for getting up too quickly. Yeah right, a$*hole, I'm the problem here. He told me he kept the wolf under his control by being the "Alpha" male and playing mind games with it. Watching that guy walk a wolf through a city on a piece of a rope was one of the most ridiculous, cruel, and hateful things I have seen in my life. I sincerely hope the mated animal pair pulled a "Siegfried and Roy"* on their asses. For tonight's full moon, I'll howl from indoors, looking forward to seeing wolves in the wild from a comfortable distance, with a certified guide. 

Stay safe in our urban jungle.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Werewolf

*http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Siegfried_%26_Roy

The Story of Lobo and Blanca

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Julie_of_the_Wolves

Wolves are my favorite animals. It isn't surprising, given my preference for snow dogs, which wolves resemble in some ways. One of my favorite reads as a pre-teen was Julie of the Wolves, the story of an abused Native girl who runs away to join a pack. I made a study of my Samoyed as a girl growing up, and I loved her habits. When I began to learn in earnest about wolves, my admiration for their qualities grew. They are one of the most intelligent, sophisticated, and feeling animals on our beautiful gem of a planet, alongside whales, dolphins, and elephants. They have a complex and highly developed society, with a refined, disciplined, almost militaristic hierarchy. They form strong emotional attachments and unique bonds. Combined with their extraordinary natural beauty, you can clearly see why I was hooked.  

Lakota Wolf, © 2010 Marie Doucette 
 http://www.lakotawolf.com

As an adult, my fascination with wolves remains unabated. I went on a small outing to a wolf preserve in New Jersey. We also took a bigger family trip to Yellowstone, on a tour called Wolves, Bears, and Wild Things. We saw many beautiful animals and incredible landscapes, but no wolves. I was not disappointed at all, because I expected such behavior. They are not summer creatures, and the heat of the day is no time for movement, because wolves travel at night. I know some day I will observe a pack in the wild, at a spot that I hiked to deep in the wilderness, glistening with new snow.*

Lobo

Blanca

You can imagine my rapt attention when I discovered the documentary called The Wolf That Changed America. I do not want to write too much about it, so moving is this true tale. It's an epic adventure, with the creation of an environmental activist, and the greatest love story of all time. See it for yourself, and prepare for an emotional experience you will never forget. Be sure to have tissues handy. http://www.pbs.org/wnet/nature/episodes/the-wolf-that-changed-america/introduction/4260/

*http://mariedoucette.blogspot.com/2010_07_01_archive.html
  http://mariedoucette.blogspot.com/2010/04/lakota-wolf-preservecolumbia-nj.html