Mourning dove

close up shot of a dove
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The mourning dove

Ambles along

Unhindered by the knotted cares of

A world run astray.

Only the wind

Speaks to her

And the great sky

Above,

Where the blue dove

Smiles,

Wreathed in bells of sunlight,

Their light

Falls on ancient stone sundials,

That foretell

The times that are

And yet to be.

Then only the earth-lit rains follow after

That sing

Their song

Of lilting laughter,

That drizzle down quiet afternoons.

Only the peace

Of the presence of Eternity.

The unraveling mystery of the runes.

Overhead fly the geese

Of spring

And the white butterfly

Who flits, twinkling,

Among the sage brush dancing

Gently in the wind,

Their stems still gray

From the length

Of the snowing days

Of winter.

Out of emptiness climbs

Strength,

While the tall cliff anchors time

And in the creek below,

The minnow

Flits on by,

Silver-finned.

The dove takes flight,

Wings whistling

Into the unknown,

Alone, yet not alone,

With her crowds of brothers and sisters,

Where the juniper trees gather

Under the wings of spring,

In the brave winds –

Singing.

© Copyright Sharon St Joan, 2023

Why look at the past?

sand desert statue pyramid
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Some of us don’t find history very interesting. Once in my own distant past, I, unfortunately, had a fourth-grade teacher who had memorized the names of every single U.S. vice-president.  Even at the time, at my young age, I thought that memorizing the names of vice-presidents was not a very imaginative use of one’s time.

However, thank goodness, there is more to history than memorizing names – or the dates of battles – which used to be an important thing to memorize.

An extraordinary number of us, however, do find history dull. Sadly, that may be due to our own level of ignorance. Finding the past dull says nothing about the past; it only says something about the dimness of our brain.

Let’s say I have a friend – someone I met not long ago – just a friend – someone I might meet at the dog park or maybe the neighbor down the street.  Maybe someone a bit older who has lived a long life. If I decide that the person’s life has been boring, then I will never bother to be interested in his or her life. I will never ask a question or express any interest. I will never learn anything about this person.

Maybe my newly found friend speaks six languages or has traveled around the world several times – or spent several years in the Peace Corps – or was a prisoner of war – or a criminal in prison for many years – or nearly died from an illness – or has a family with children and grandchildren – or is an immigrant who grew up on another continent – or the winner of a Pulitzer Prize – or is a famous poet – or won millions of dollars in the lottery – or is a brilliant concert pianist – or is an astronomer with fascinating theories about the universe – or is a hero who risked his life to save his comrades in Vietnam – or is a billionaire, but isn’t telling anyone – or used to be a bank robber.

All this might be quite fascinating, but I may never know if I never express any interest at all in the life of my friend. If I am just not interested, then I will never know how much I am missing or how much I might learn.

This is how many of us approach history. We assume that the present is pretty much all that is relevant and that the past could contain nothing that would be of the slightest interest to us today.

This is like saying that the only place that is of any interest to us is the town or city that we live in. The rest of the world does not exist for us – there are no countries, no continents, no vast expanses of ocean, no cold polar realms, no hot tropics, no jungles, no exotic foreign places – no forests or deserts – no planet earth at all really. Just the street where we live, and that’s it really.

But this is not true of history. The past is not just populated by dull Europeans or unknowable Africans – or boring people who somehow lived out their dull lives before the Twenty First Century. And if you go back a few hundred years — perhaps we might be telling ourselves — they most likely lived in caves anyway.

The Americas

Before the four centuries in which what we now call America has existed, on the continents of North and South America, there were, at a bare minimum, ten or twenty thousand years of culture – with fascinating myths and stories about nature, the universe, the stars, the animals and the plants. In the Americas, people built some of the biggest pyramids in the world and giant cities with complex irrigation systems and incredible works of art, unequaled anywhere. Their myths and the stories provide an extraordinary depth of awareness, insight, and knowledge about how to relate to life and the universe. There are stories about Gods that give a profound spiritual perspective – far more beautiful than anything most of us can imagine today. There was writing extending far back over many centuries, and there were calendars with numbers to keep track of time over not just thousands, but millions, of years. There were worlds upon worlds that we can no longer even imagine.

Africa, the Pacific Islands, India

In Africa too, there were vast movements of people. There were great cities built of stone in southern Africa. In the Sahara, which is now a desert, there were thriving wetlands filled with herds of animals and many people who left their art and history printed on the rocks over ten thousand years ago. In Egypt, there were pyramids, many temples, and gigantic works of art like the Sphinx, believed by some authorities to have been built tens of thousands of years ago, with a level of mathematical precision that cannot even be understood or matched today. There was an awareness of various levels of being with which we have long ago lost touch.

In the islands that dot the Pacific, there are hundreds of giant stone megalithic monuments, including some recently discovered that apparently go back for over 20,000 years.

In India, advanced culture goes back at least seven thousand years, to the Indus Valley Civilization which had elaborate city planning, paved streets, sewage systems, and a complex “modern” civilization, with writing, mathematics, and elegant public buildings as well as private houses. Later, around the first century BCE, there were brilliant Indian scientists and mathematicians who created the number system that we still use today – without which, the current world economy would have remained an impossibility that could never have been developed.

These scientists understood the solar system, the nature of stars, atoms, and gravity; they knew that the earth and other planets revolved around the sun – at a time when people in Europe saw the earth as flat. They had many precisely accurate measurements of physical aspects of the earth and the entire solar system. It would take Europe until around the fifteenth century to rediscover some of this knowledge – known so long ago in ancient India.

The Stone Age

If we go back a bit earlier to Gobekli Tepe, the amazing site uncovered in Turkey in recent decades – it goes back to at least 12,000 BCE. There, giant, beautifully shaped stones in around twenty huge circles were built with precision and accuracy. The entire site was buried and is gradually being excavated.

Here is another thing to think of – many thousands of years ago, at a time that we think of as paleolithic – or the Old Stone Age, when people actually did live in caves – during the times of the Ice Ages – how do we know what was in the consciousness of these people?

Some of the cave art in Europe consists of the most startingly beautiful depictions ever created of animals. It is the equal of any artwork anywhere over a span the ten thousand years or so that followed, up to and including today.  Should we not draw from this the conclusion that these people, far from being primitive, were instead aware and conscious of many levels of reality that we may simply have lost touch with. They seem to have had a profound connection with the inner spirit of the animals they portrayed in art.

What if?

We “modern” people pride ourselves on our technology, which is indeed truly remarkable. But, all the same, it is still technology – it is not a vision of the nature of worlds and universes.

What if magic and miracles are real?  What if all the Gods that modern science dismisses so easily are real and true presences? What if things as they are, are far, far different than our current, scientific, physical, worldview allows?

What if our modern age has got it all wrong – and profound truth and beauty lies just beyond our reach? What if we must journey back a little in time to gain a truer and deeper perspective – to catch an unforgettable glimpse of the immense beauty that is – that we, as the human race have since lost touch with – and that we need to rediscover – if not in this age – then, after the ending of this age, in the brighter age that is to come – one way or another – sooner or maybe later?

A persevering interest in the past – in history – can open doors to many worlds of deeper understanding.

© Copyright, Sharon St Joan, 2023

Wild horses can prevent out-of-control wildfires out west, researcher says. Here’s how — Straight from the Horse’s Heart

By Brooke Baitinger One man’s extensive research into wild horse behavior suggests their presence in the wilderness may help cut down on the size and intensity of wildfires in the western U.S. Roaming wild horses may help cut down on the size and intensity of wildfires out west, according to research from the Wild Horse […]

Wild horses can prevent out-of-control wildfires out west, researcher says. Here’s how — Straight from the Horse’s Heart

Book Review: The Lost City of the Monkey God

rainforest surrounded by fog
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By Sharon St Joan

The Lost City of the Monkey God by Douglas Preston (2017) is not a happy-happy book. In fact it’s rather grim. However, it moves along quickly, and it is profoundly fascinating, with the potential to transform your worldview and your perceptions of the past, present, and future. For a long time there have been many legends about a lost culture, known as the “white city,” in the jungles of Honduras. With the advent of lidar, which is a technology that makes it possible to see through the jungle and to be able to see the outlines of structures that are hidden from view by the thick foliage of plants, it is now possible to view the presence of ancient temples and other buildings long obscured by the jungle.

This doesn’t mean this expedition was easy. Douglas Preston, who took part in the excursion to discover the lost ruins this ancient city, describes a fascinating, but painful, adventure into the thick jungles of Honduras. The old legends turned out to be true. There is indeed a long-lost, absolutely immense, ancient city hidden and previously undiscovered under the cover of the jungles of Honduras.

Putting their lives at risk, the expedition cut their way through impenetrable jungle, plagued by venomous snakes, hordes of insects, horrifying parasites, and intolerable weather to discover enchanting, mysterious, untouched forests and – underneath the jungle – the spell-binding remains of an ancient culture over a truly vast area — along with hundreds of profoundly beautiful artifacts and an unknown ancient writing. This was a civilization older than that of the Maya and as yet completely unknown.

This account is eye-opening from another perspective. With the coming of Europeans to the Americas, it is now generally well understood that the native population suffered profound and irreversible consequences, losing as much as 90 percent of their population in both North and South America. Undeniably, the history of the impact of Europeans on the Americas is a long story of brutality and profound injustice, for which there can be no excuse or justification.

What is perhaps less well understood though is the extent to which the depopulation of native peoples in the Americas may also have been due to the importing of disease itself. Douglas Preston paints a vivid description of the lack of immunity to diseases brought by the Europeans.

That lies in the past. However, he does not stop there – he continues with a jarring description of parasitic disease that is present today and that can only, in fact, be expected to become calamitous in the future, aided by global warming.

This is a book that disturbs our European-centric view of civilization from all points of view. It opens a vista on to a continent filled with a long history that is pretty much as yet unknown to us — especially if we can put — alongside our awareness of this newly found civilization in Honduras — a newly brought to light history of thousands of years of archeological discoveries throughout all of South America (not to mention Asia, as well).

We just cannot continue to sit still, content with our old, minimalist history that is largely focused on Europe — going back to the Romans and Greeks – with Europe having the top billing first, second, and always.

There is so much more to our world that we must now include — especially all the history, still being discovered, of South America.

On top of that discovery, there is more in this book – a rather startling view of the ominous possibilities that may lie in our near future — of horrifying plagues that may await us in a warming world.

If we’re not too afraid of unsettling our worldview, this is a fascinating book! It will introduce us to a vastly different view of history, very real and as yet little imagined. (Tip: If all this is depressing, you might turn to reading about the eternal cycling of the world ages – the yugas.)

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow’s Nature Poetry — Naturalist Weekly

“This is the forest primeval. The murmuring pines and the hemlocks” – H.W. Longfellow. Born on February 27, 1807, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow was a poet, educator, translator, and environmentalist. In a three-part series titled “Longfellow’s Nature Poetry”, the National Park Service explores Longfellow’s connection to the land and how it influenced his writing.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow’s Nature Poetry — Naturalist Weekly

Do you see the wind?

eagle in flight
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The sage brush nods her head

In deference to the sun —

Quite —

Juniper branches wave,

Exultant.

Tiny, brave

Plants rustle in delight.

Did the flock

Of goats startle at the ringing

Of the bells of dawn?

The bald eagle,

With downbent beak,

The first of the season

To return,

Sails — her white head held

High,

Sky queen,

Jubilant,

The stars all gone.

Ravens call

Sparkling black in the air

At the spare

Skeleton

Of an eon past – or maybe yet to be.

An urn

Cools in the quick-running stream.

While, off the coast below,

The gill

Of the fish, finned,

Shines in the magic of the rolling sea

Waves fall

And gleam,

Snow-

Tipped in the path of the fierce wind dragon

While Meenakshi looks on

From the shore,

Sea-shelled.

Fish-eyed Meenakshi

Who danced long ago in the sea

With blue dolphins —

She came ashore

Then from the wandering sea

By the coconut palms, in the wind-deep roar,

Whose fronds bend and bow.

No.

No one sees the wind now.

No one has ever seen

The wind,

Yet the wind is there,

All around, everywhere

The living spirit who enlivens

The earth, who brings a confidant

Day; Vayu – God of the wind,

Just as the Holy One,

Who is never seen at all

Anywhere,

Nor ever heard to speak,

Except in the echoing thunder,

Yet, with nothing said,

Gives

Breath to all that lives,

Including the tall

Red

Rock –

Ancient pillars standing,

Mountains,

The strong frame of the earth, awake

By the lake

Of wonder,

Of bumblebees and lilies,

Under the moon

And the sun,

And the eagle’s wing,

In the wind,

In the wind

That runs soon

Through the open door

In the rain-blown rock.

***

By Sharon St Joan, November 2021

© Copyright, Sharon St Joan, 2021

If you like this poem, you might also like this website, Forest Voices of India https://forestvoicesofindia.com

No

animal big fur zoo
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No space,

Nor time,

No distance,

No night, nor day,

Nowhere,

Only the bobcat who strays

Across the high slanted

Bridge

Of rock, buried in snow,

Overlooking the deep fog lake

Below.

No dance

In the white air,

Lingering, a single chime

Of the Tibetan bell.

Why

Not take

Time

To stay

A while,

Footsteps of grace,

Glimmering eyes

That do not smile.

The moon calling from far across the haunted ridge,

Enchanted

Spell,

Cast in the window,

Through the wise

Year of fire-glow,

Of softly growing snow.

© Sharon St Joan, 2021

Evening

clouds during sunset
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Did you think to thank the evening?

I am the evening,

I have a soul, old and real,

A being – an essence from another age –

The flowering sage,

Spilling gold,

The half-moon watching,

The glimmering petals of time

That bloom

Between the echoes

Of lost places,

The ravens recounting

Tales untold

Of yesteryear,

The wheel

Running on and on,

While the tadpole curls up into sleep.

Did you thank the One

Who made the evening?

Or did you assume that all came together

Just entirely by chance?

A lovely accident

With no intent?

Nothing to see,

An idle dance?

Yet the evening is a petal

On the deepening rose of time

By the haunting cliff, steep,

Blown in the owl-awakened wind,

Gently, as the clouds

Fold up into stars

And the clear sky sings

Her song with crowds

Of hummingbirds that chime,

Recalling the embers

Of lilting Septembers

From far, far away,

Traces of rain remembered,

The wall of China

Winds around the rolling hills,

From lands long ago

In the swirling snow.

© Sharon St Joan, 2021

Written September 14, 2021