I am a primatologist who spends twelve hours most days in the company of a thirteen year old chimpanzee named Bow. I am also an editor with Inverted-A Press.
There are lots of ways that spring announces itself here in the Ozarks.
There are the cherry blossoms, blooming forth one at a time.
There are the pear blossoms, opening up in clusters.
There are the dandelions that spring up on the lawn.
And there are the Weigela blossoms in all their glory,
But one sign that invariably heralds the arrival of spring is the appearance of Jehovah's Witnesses at our front door.
Bow was relaxing in the outer pen today, when there was a knock at the front door. It was two women, and they came bearing pamphlets and an iPad. The pamphlets are an old tradition. The iPad was a new twist. They handed me a pamphlet and invited me to an event celebrating the death of Jesus. The pamphlet they handed me said that at the event there would be an explanation of how "his death can benefit you and your family."
I thanked them for the pamphlet and offered to give them a free book, too, But they declined. They wanted to show me a video about Jesus on their iPad, instead. When I said I didn't have time to watch a video, they said that was okay, I could watch it later on their website. They've gone modern on us!
We parted politely, and I hurried back to Bow with the pamphlet. At first, he looked it over intently, but then he decided to nibble on one of the corners. I highly discourage eating literature, so I took it away.
Anyway, it's definitely spring. No doubt about it!
Bow and I help each other. There are things he cannot do as well as I can. There are things I cannot do as well as he can. His fine motor skills for opening a plastic bottle of soda water are not as good as mine. But when a sliding glass door gets a little stuck in its track, it is Bow who helps me.
We help each other.
Each day is a new day. Each evening the sun sets again. And in the morning it rises.
We are fairly insulated out here in the country. There's a bird's nest right in front of my entrance door on a wild rose bush, and a single blue egg inside it.
This morning it was raining, and I checked on the nest.
There are wood violets and mayapples blooming in my woods.
Every new bloom is an offer of fruit to come.
Swallowtail butterflies flutter right in front of me.
They are so fragile, but they feel safe on my land.
All is calm and peaceful here. But that does not mean that I am unaware of the rumbling in the distance. US Fish & Wildlife, by declaring domesticated chimpanzees an endangered species, have effectively nationalized private chimpanzees, without a single law having been passed. They are now going after a female chimpanzee named Candy in Louisiana, because she has no other chimpanzee companions. Human companionship is discounted. Family feeling does not matter to them.
If they come for Bow, who will stand up for him and me?
When they came for Logan Marr, to take her away from her mother and give her to the woman who killed her, nobody stood up for her. My musical with Daniel Carter, The Debt Collector, has a subplot inspired by the story of Logan Marr.
Today is April 19, the twenty-third anniversary of the Mt. Carmel Massacre. Who stood up for the Branch Davidians when the ATF came for them?
When you live in the country, you get used to a slow tempo and quiet everyday events, like this sweat bee that walks from one dogwood flower to another, not even bothering to fly.
The dogwoods are lovely at this time of year.
In the woods, blue-eyed grass is blooming.
But all of this is a very delicate balance of nature that will be disturbed by the arrival of boots on the ground that have no respect for property rights. Because there can be no liberty without property, just as no flower can bloom without soil to grow in.
Bow and I help each other. But if they come for us, we will need much more help than that. What can you do? At the moment, it would help if you bought and read my books and left reviews, and left comments on my blogs showing your support. It would also help if you vote libertarian in the national and local elections. Because liberty is a delicate flower. And we need your help.
Spring is definitely here. Yesterday afternoon it was eighty degrees out. In the grocery store, grapes are suddenly affordable again. Bow and I are taking advantage of the opportunity,
He was grunting with pleasure when he had his bunch of grapes for breakfast yesterday.
Bow also spent many hours outdoors on his bench, while I roamed the grounds spying all the sudden transformations that the warm weather has wrought.
The hyacinth by the front door is blooming.
The peach trees in the orchard have opened their blossoms. And no sooner had they bloomed, than they began to attract busy little bees.
Bees began to swarm by the fruit trees.
They seem to know exactly what flowers are available.
Some flowers, however, are more popular than others. For instance, though the new trees that were planted only last fall are also blooming, they do not attract any bees.
And although we might suppose that all the flowers growing on the same tree or bush are equal. no such equality is to be found in nature. Even on the forsythia bush, which is now in full bloom, some flowers just seem to stand out.
What is it about this particular bloom that makes it dance in front of me, as if shouting: "Look at me! Look at me! I am different from all the others!"
No two mountains have the same height and no two stalks of grain are equal, as the great Russian writer, Alexei Tolstoy, once wrote. (No, not the author of War and Peace. That was somebody else) There is no such thing as absolute, factual equality. Which brings me to my new book, Our Lady of Kaifeng: Courtyard of the Happy Way. It has been published, and people all over the world are receiving copies even as I write.
The snow did not stay for long. By Leap Day, it was quite nice out.
Bow enjoyed sunning on top of the bench in the outer pen, as well as a rare treat: a tangelo.
It was warm, it was nice, and at dusk you could hear both the birds and the coyotes.
The burnt field began to turn green.
It is nicer now that we are in the month of March. Bow sometimes asks for his blanket, but it is not because he is cold, and not because he needs a blanket.
Sometimes Bow is just reluctant to defy genre expectations and talk about something other than his blanket.
The sunrises have become especially lovely in the last few days -- even nicer than sunsets.
And today, we saw the very first flower bloom by the lagoon.
Its leaves had been singed by the fire, but this crocus pushed through undeterred.
The next flower getting ready to bloom beside the crocus is a daffodil. But a stray dandelion on the lawn has beat it to the punch, already open in bright yellow splendor.
Fair weather is not promised to us, of course. It may yet snow again. It certainly does seem about to storm.
But as far as the flowers are concerned, spring has sprung
Yesterday, I took possession of Orchard House again. The sale that was pending did not go through, so now I have a vacant house again. It's a beautiful house. But it is not our home. Our home is also beautiful, and that is where we live.
Bow enjoying salad in the inner pen
"יש לי בית" Bow said to me the other day, "I have a house." It was in reference to someone else who did not have a house. He offered to share his house with that person. He, however, does not wish to move. He is happy with his house.
Bow has his indoor and his outdoor space, his alone time when he wants it and his companionship when he needs it.
He has his human family and friends. And he has his canine family and friends. And yes, he wants chimpanzee friends, too, but he should not have to give up his home and his family and his privacy and his property rights in order to get that.
No matter how wonderful everything is, it could always get to be even better. But it's important, when reaching for that brass ring, that you do not make things much worse. A step forward would be to have even more freedom, not to give up one thing for another.
The red roses are blooming now in front of Orchard House
Which brings us to why it is that I have Orchard House in the first place. Orchard House was where Bow used to go to school.
When Bow was very small, and Project Bow was in its infancy, we used to have interns who would come and work with Bow, and these interns stayed at Orchard House. But there was a special room for Bow there, too.
It was not a room for Bow to live in, but it was where he went to school for about three hours at a time. The house and grounds at Orchard House are well tended, and the outdoors is tastefully landscaped.
There are many beautiful cultivated flowers that bloom at Orchard House, like these hollyhocks that border the deck.
Orchard House is surrounded by 4.6 acres, some wooded and some clear.
There are several out-buildings on the property, including a carport/garage. While we are trying to sell the property, I am going to be spending more time at Orchard House in the evenings, which means that I will probably taking a closer look at the flowers blooming there.
Orchard House flowers blooming now
But as much as I love Orchard House, it is not home. At home we do not have such fancy flowers, but the butterflies know and love us.
A Common Buckeye on the wildflowers by the fence at my house
There is no place like home. It is good to see other places -- to go to school or work or to visit friends -- but in the end, we each want to live under our own vine and fig tree. Any expansion of our horizons should not be at the expense of our privacy or our property line.
The last time I picked wild plums, there were four of them ripe all at the same time. Count them, four!
Bow enjoys the wild plums much more than I do. He savors them. He takes a bite and then examines what is left, and he eats some more, and then he studies the pit.
When Bow has four blackberries to eat, they just tumble into his mouth all at once, and they are gone. But if Bow has four wild plums, it takes a while.
This past weekend I had occasion to visit the closest mall with my daughter and her friend for a birthday shopping spree. But for me, there was nothing in the stores that I wanted to buy. The mall was full of clothing outlets, jewelry stores, perfumeries, and confectioner's shops. And there were people in the middle of it all hawking baseball cards. I went into a lot of stores and saw nothing that I wanted, and so eventually I sat down and played with my phone, looking at old pictures.
Sitting outside the mall
When I was younger, my favorite three stores to visit at the mall were the bookstore, the toy store and the pet store. But there were no bookstores at the mall, anymore. There was no pet store. And the only thing that could pass for a toy store was the Build-a-Bear Workshop. Gone were the old fashioned toy shops displaying all sizes and shapes of dolls in beautiful clothing, toy trains, hobby airplanes or wooden wagons and rocking horses. That is a thing of the past. But there were flies. Everywhere you went, flies swarmed. What is the role of flies in a modern, air-conditioned mall?
Nobody spoke to me, except one little old lady who sat on a bench next to me at one point. She started off the conversation saying there was nothing in the stores worth buying. I agreed. She said they were sparkly things of no value. I agreed. Then she asked: "Do you know Jesus?" Oh, dear. I always attract religious fanatics. I don't know why. She handed me her tract.
Whenever someone tries to sell me something, I try to sell them something back. So I told her about my novel Vacuum County, which is based on the Biblical story of Nabal the Carmelite. We started talking about David and Samuel and Saul, and the meeting with the witch at Endor. My new acquaintance told me that there are some things in the Old Testament that don't make sense to us, because some other books have been left out. For instance, the reason Saul was required to execute all the civilians, including women and children and cattle, he captured (I Samuel 15: 2-3, 20) -- was because they were really descended from demons. "I don't go in for killing people just because of their race," I told her, and she shook her head at me. Obviously, if they were descended from demons, that's completely different.
That is what is called "demonizing the enemy." We are still doing it today. But as much as I don't share the woman's views on genocide, I had to agree with her that our economy is doomed. I love material things, and I used to like going to the mall. But none of the material things offered at the mall now have any attraction for me. I'd rather go shopping for material things on my own property.
A hidden purple cone flower
Every day I discover hidden treasure, like this lone purple cone flower that grew up out of nothing by the lagoon.
It is past the season for coneflowers, and I did not plant any. But here it is. Or how about these rose pinks out in the pasture?
Or this strange creature on a black-eyed Susan?
If I devote enough time to the task, I can even come back with enough blackberries for dessert.
Sure, there are insects out there vying with me for the blackberries, but they are much more colorful and interesting than the flies in the mall. So at the moment, at the risk of sounding devout, I am actually counting my blessings.
Posts
