I’ve been walking in the dark this week a little more than normal thanks to the new moon and road construction. I thought I would be afraid, it’s been a while since I walked in the dark. Instead I am remembering how peaceful it is to walk in the quiet of the early morning before everyone is awake - and how much I can actually see in the dark!
In truth I think this is a remembering I do again and again each year. The early light of summer gives way to stillness of pre-dawn darkness when I can see the stars again. Early this week the sliver of a moon rose next to Venus. Now Venus rises alone, next to Orion in the east/southeast sky. Owls call to each other and migrating nighthawks swoop above the trees when it’s still too dark for photos.
We seem to be walking in the dark as a nation as well, but it is a different kind of darkness that makes us forget we are all connected to each other. All week I’ve watched the red sun rise through smoke that has travelled over 1000 miles from the western fires. We are connected through the air we breathe, which 2020 has made starkly clear even if you don’t live where you are reminded often that the cold winds come “down from Canada” and the warm moisture comes “up from the Gulf”.
Migration illustrates our connectedness. I’m still waiting for the birds to come this year but slowly (so slowly) they have started to trickle in with a few ring-billed gulls, ospreys and cormorants arriving on their journey south. In 2017 I had a visit about this time of year by a banded Caspian tern. This bird was traveling with a juvenile, most likely it’s offspring. Birds are banded for scientific research and if you’re lucky enough to get a clear number in a photo you can submit it on the US Fish and Wildlife banding site. After submitting the band information on this bird, I got a response from a researcher:
“Thank you very much for reporting and sending a photo of a banded Caspian tern! The bird was banded as a chick at East Sand Island in the Columbia River estuary (near Astoria, Oregon) in 2008. Because we have not seen this bird at our research sites in the Pacific NW since it fledged, it is great to learn the bird is (supposedly) doing well in Missouri. Your report is also very exciting for our study; it is the easternmost location where terns banded by us have been observed!”
Yasuko Suzuki, Oregon State University
According to the researcher, there are two large colonies of breeding Caspian terns in the Great Lakes and central Canada. They will spend their winters far to the south, some crossing into the Caribbean or South America. Ever so briefly they may stop here, in the middle of the country for a rest and a bite to eat. Some call us a “flyover” state, luckily the birds need somewhere to stop on their journeys.
We are all connected. Everything we do affects so many other living beings on our planet. Every tradition holds a version of the golden rule - “do unto others” - for a reason. My heartfelt wish is for us to remember this again as we collectively walk in the dark.
When I started this newsletter I set a goal to write once a week. The first post took me a month, this one has taken two weeks - progress!
Lovely reflections. Thank you.
Karen, your experience of walking in the dark impels me to commend to you a wonderful book by Barbara Brown Taylor called, "Learning to Walk in the Dark." It talks about her intentional experiences of walking or dwelling in dark places as a spiritual exercise in fear, trust, self-reliance, etc. I think you would really enjoy it and it would resonate with you. As for your tern-spotting, that is so exciting! I bet the researchers want to kiss you! And as to your rate of newsletter output, I'm just delighted to hear what you have to say whenever the muse moves you! Take care.