Thank you, Mother. I don't know how you did it
My day ends more peacefully than it began. This morning across the river from my little 8 by 6 balcony, I awoke to find kids of varying ages throwing rocks in the river. Now the throwing of rocks didn't bother me although I did find myself wondering why they didn't just get in and get wet. The river is more stream-like and not that deep. But instead of getting in they proceeded boys and girls alike to see who could pick up the largest rocks and throw them in at the river's edge in hopes of wetting their shore-bound peers with a splash.
I was grateful the ducks weren't around, the ducks that have been here all week, two parents and two babies that follow their folks wherever they go.
Tuesday night there were three babies. I went inside with the ducks visible down river on a rock. On a rock away from the bank were nest
led three furry young ones surrounded by their parents protecting them from harm that might come from the shore.
In the span of one morning, there were suddenly only two babies following their mother. I hoped even into today that number three would show up having hidden in a crevice along the bank, but he or she didn't.
Instead children and campers galore arrived this morning before nine. I found it satisfying to see children outdoors instead of inside until one of the boys in the group threw a huge rock at a duck that appeared.
I suddenly heard myself shout, a shout that surprised even myself, "Stop it. Do not throw rocks at the ducks."
He stopped as did his friends, their heads all hanging down to which I added, "Have fun in the water but don't throw things at the animals. Pick on someone your own size." I could have left that last sentence off but I said it.
The last time I recall saying this was actually in relation to ducks. Over ten years ago I was swimming in a lake at an Arkansas State park when a guy three times my size threw a small boulder into a group of ducks.
I was in waist deep water as was he. I watched him reach down fearing I knew what he was about to do and unfortunately I did as he lobbed a large rock at the ducks. Without thinking, I yelled, "Hey, pick on someone your own size."
He began to walk toward me only slowed by the water and stopped by the verbal prodding of two friends on the shore shouting, "Hey man, it's only a woman."
Being 'only a woman' probably kept me from being beaten up or at least verbally threatened and abused, but it is not okay with me for people to act violently toward animals. I do not like bullies.
In today's situation I wondered why the adults were putting up the tents without the help of the children in the group. (Yes, feet from the river adults put up three tents as this interaction occurred.)
I rationalized that at least two or three of the rock throwers probably felt inferior to another or at least picked on somewhere in life thus to deal with this he threw rocks hoping to wet someone 'lesser' than himself.
I wondered if these were the children who would become wolf stalkers in Sarah Palin's Alaska. It's called hunting, but true hunting involves meeting the animal on its turf and not in the air, chasing them for miles in a helicopter as was legalized by once Gov. Palin.
All day I've quietly dreaded returning to my room and balcony. This is not how vacation is suppose to be spent. So before going 'home' for the evening, we drove through the camp ground across the river. Seeing how the campers are packed in, made me feel a bit of empathy.
We stopped by the skateboard pack across the way and watched local bikers and boarders take to the ramps and fly through the air and something about seeing young people active and outside made things more okay.
We sat on the balcony watching a man fly fish and another family knee deep in water collect rocks. The ducks were nowhere to be seen until I spied the mother and her two young ones, growing larger every day, swimming along the shoreline.
Finally to my relief, she swam and they followed from across the river to the bank nearest me where she ensured her two young ones were cleaned and tucked in for the night .
I watched and thought, 'I don't know how mother's do it, watch over, protect and gradually let their children go.' All I know is I viscerally felt at ease seeing these dear animals tucked in peace for the night, tucked in at peace.
As I turn in I say a prayer of blessing. Bless Mothers, human mothers and animal mothers alike, who instinctively protect their young and guide them along the river of life.
-Dawn, The Good News Muse 5 August 2011
Maple trees are uncommon on my busy, hackberry-dotted city street. Yet here on the edge of my asphalt driveway, the soil holds memory of maples in a strip of lavender and black-eyed susan filled Earth. In this narrow patch of seldom tended soil there has sprouted this summer not one but two maples inches high one waving five leaves when I walk by.
