Tea With Me: 20th August, 2023 Sunday
So Dream Kite flew out of uninterrupted sleep fog long enough for me to grab some house in Montana I have never been to in a canyon which in summertime is luscious and accessible. Then came Snow. Lots of Snow. Driving with tires not clawed for Snow. A service station in a town hubbing snow savy travelers and we are clearly out of our depth. Snow. Lots of Snow.
So I slept last night. All dog tanks slept also. Little Ochito, 14 weeks had no trouble going into his bedside crate at 8:30 and was quiet til 6 am. I woke at 5:30 not able to find more Dream time.
The sun has shifted her relationship to day. Three weeks ago she peeked her shine at 5:30. Today she winked at bit later at 6. We are at altitude here. Light here is always astounding even when its gray. Fall is coming.
The Pack of Eight raced to their respective outlet doors and I made tea. Sat in the garden for a few sips as Sun painted colorsand her shadow dapples speckled the courtyard walls.
I love dawn.
Now the Pack, relieved of their nightime products, have settled into their morning Tea With Mom nap.
Its peaceful here this morning.
Reports of Weather’s Assaults have breached my Lung Rabies Recovery barriers of no stress news. Maui. Oh Maui. Fire. And a Tropical Storm headed for Baja and Southern California? Reports from Tacoma, Washington of 102f? And BC, Canada too?
Mother Nature is flexing strong.
Eldest is bearing witness to Weather change in her research in Wyoming. She studies Muledeer in the Rockies. Winter hit so hard this last round, slaying huge swaths of her study group. Her job is to go find them when they stop moving. And determine by whatever means what felled them. First it was the males. Then the unbred does. Then the carrying females.
She monitors Death in the Rocky Mountain Winter. And in the Spring, she montiors Birth.
It was slaughter this last Winter. And the Spring’s crop of fawns have dropped like flies if they were born able to move and there were quite a few who weren’t.
She is strong, my Eldest, and fierce in her determination to do whatever needs. And she is a mush about animal life. Her field is a Science one. So she barricades her grief with measurements and clinical observation.
She called early July. I cannot talk to her often as she is out of cell range so I wait for my screen to flash her name. This call came delivering descriptions of failed fawns, born alive but not right. I cried silently as I listened. After a bit, I asked if she lets herself cry. She said, “Yes. I do.” Important, that. But her task is to catalog the effect of weather and the ensuing disruption of food growth patterns which are changing and therefore disturbing the nutritional needs of does in gestation and what is available for fawns as they nurse or forage.
Her job is to study the devastating affects of clmate change on life in this previously prolific and adaptable species. It isn’t just us being washed away from homes or burnt out of historic communities. Its animals and plants.
Mama Nature is coming for us. And she is not doing it subtlely.
As I write, the Sun is painting dapples on my kitchen walls as she tracks her early day path. She spotlights beauty in my home as she traces her day.
If I am present enough to see these lit moments, the zoo thats alive and well in my head ceases for a moment. The effect of Beauty on my highly reactive nervous system is the most effective drug I have found.
This is a podcast interview she did recently. Spend some time with it, if it suits.
Tea was black, creamed, and manukaed. Not sure about the Matcha yet.
Ta.
Tea With Me 