A Separate Nation

As I've pointed out before, one of my favorite nature writers of all time is Henry Beston. His thoughtful prose can send your imagination off in very different directions. Or let you see a fact from a completely new perspective.

Last night, I was savoring his Herbs and the Earth. He was talking about sage, an herb with a very long history as a medicinal plant and as an adjunct to taste in the kitchen.

This led him into the observation that the spices enjoyed by the ancient Romans because of trade with the Middle East disappeared from the European diet with the fall of their empire. But the fact that made some of my synapses sit up and take notice was Beston's pointing out that the Dark Ages—the early Middle Ages—were a time of continent-wide poverty. I had never had reason to think of that before.

Oooh, I just love the sensation of having the inside of my head scratched.

Which brings me to this photograph, taken this morning, of a pair of cedar waxwings taking a minute's rest in their restless hunting of the insects that hover over the river's surface. Watching them made me think of this passage from Beston:

"The animal shall not be measured by man. In a world older and more complete than ours, they move finished and complete, gifted with extension of the senses we have lost or never attained, living by voices we shall never hear. They are not brethren; they are not underlings; they are other nations, caught with ourselves in the net of life and time, fellow prisoners of the splendor and travail of the earth."

I've long thought that humans who believe that animals and plants are beneath us because they don't have "feelings" like ours or who can't "think" like us are pretty stupid. It is us who do not understand. It is us who are the arrogant idiots who make the world uninhabitable for ourselves. It is us who won't be missed when our tribe finally blinks its last on this beautiful planet and finally leave it in peace.

I have no idea what it is like to flit from a branch on a river. I have no idea what the glint of the water looks like from these birds' perspective. Try as I might to be attentive, most of what nature does goes unnoticed by me. I cannot read the weather like these creatures nor would I be able to protect myself if caught in a storm as well as they do.

I cannot speak bird but they obviously know something about humans because they will not let me come too near. I am the untrusted stranger in their nation. It is I who needs to be respectful.

The term "save the Earth" is another example of our patronizing outlook on life. The Earth is going to be fine. Lady Nature will recover in time from our plundering and looting. We should really be talking about saving human life—if we think it's worth saving.

We are the trespassing nation.