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January 9, 2022: Another Letter to Mother Nature

Dear Mother Nature,

Now seems as good a time as any to have another chat with you. Once again you have given us a sucker punch in the belly. The winds are again blowing hard – the sound is near deafening. And the temperatures have again dropped, the feeling to exposed skin, mainly the fingers, is excruciating.

I know, I know, we have this coming to us. In my last letter to you I determined that we humans have got it all wrong. We’ve been paying homage to a father figure, which is one we call God. We supposedly were created in his image and likeness. If you ask me, this is very egotistical.

Moma and calf

We should have been aligning ourselves with you – and rather than saying wwjd (or what would Jesus do)? We instead should be saying wwmnd (or what would mother nature do)? Isn’t it interesting, wwmnd is woman with the vowels missing. And really, who needs vowels? More fun trying to do without them.

Forgive me for digressing. My concentration is wavering because the wind is blowing so hard. I’m fearful for my horses, goats, and chickens. I’m actually also fearful for the ravens, moose, vowels (okay, I mean voles) who are most likely hunkered down and waiting for this to be over.

The animals don’t deserve to be uncomfortable. We deserve to be uncomfortable. Sad to say, we live in houses, and have food and water on hand. And yet, when our power goes, out or our pipes freeze, we act like it’s the end of the world.

Those of us who are first going to suffer are those who care about the animals. This seems unfair, but then maybe we too have to pay a price for our overly consumptive habits. Then those who don’t care about the animals, just the physical state of what they consider to be nature’s playground, they are going to pay a price.

I ventured outside today just long enough to tend to my animals. It was blowsy and trees were down. Pete took the dogs for a walk; he went up on the ridge trail, which is on Peaches’ Loop. He came back and said that five trees are down. This gave me reason to pause because it means that we’ll have to take a chain saw up there and clear out the limbs and brush, come spring.

No, I did not expect a second storm with this high degree of intensity. And admittedly, I was walking around smug after the first storm for I thought that you were just giving us a warning. I now understand that you are really, really pissed and in a manner of speaking, you are raising your voice. The question is, just how loud do you have to be? Sad to say, I don’t think you can be loud enough. None are as deaf as those who cannot hear, and those who can’t hear are those who don’t care.

Well, if this is the way you want it to be, I’ll go down with the ship.

And rather than curse, I will continue to respect and revere you.


Next: 10. 1/10/22: Another Calm before the Storm

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