Gunshots down by the bay.
Hunters taking careful aim at Canada geese.
Goose soup tonight, perhaps?
I prefer to glimpse them flying overhead, winging south, honking loudly, taking turns at the tip of their “V” formation, letting their fellow travelers rest as they face any challenging winds.
Barry announced this morning, “I think we’re done cutting and splitting our wood for the season.”
(I also prefer to see trees with beautiful leaves shining upright in the woods at this time of year. But, then again, it’s nice to be warm in the wintertime…and once you’ve tried wood heat, you’ll never want to return to gas or oil or electricity. If we burn fuel or eat meat, we’re not innocent travelers on this planet, oh no, even though we may like to think so.)
The man or woman aiming a gun at feathers is realizing a basic truth: if we eat meat, a creature has to die.
(Some people say a carrot weeps when it’s pulled from its soil-home, too. It may. I’ve never heard it weep, but neither have I learned carrot-speak. Perhaps next year! But then again…how I love carrots. Tonight we’re having carrot soup. No goose soup for us tonight. Since Kristina, one of our teachers, brought carrot soup to school that her husband made–I have been salivating for carrot soup. Haven’t really sought an official recipe, but the frozen veggie broth melts in the refrigerator now. A delightful base upon which to begin…)
I may drive to town for groceries this weekend. A minimum of twenty-four miles of fossil fuel used and polluting the atmosphere for delicacies and preferences we don’t really need. Do we really need cilantro atop our carrot soup? (YES, YES, YES begs the inner cilantro-lover. Do we really need more peanut butter? Yes, Yes, Yes, I’m sure the peanut butter-on-crackers lover insists.)
Someone once noted–was it perhaps me?–that you can’t walk in the woods without killing ants, innocent spiders, invisible mites and other insects.
What kind of footstep do we leave on the planet? Sometimes it is a soft footstep, aware of its actions and attempting to live the most compassionate life possible. At other times it is a careless footstep, answering exclusively to its own desires.
Sometimes delightedly serving a plate of tender geese to hungry children is the most compassionate and connected action. Other times, burning trees to heat a freezing house is a good decision. Sometimes pulling squiggly carrot-children from their hearth and making carrot soup is the best.
Today I will try to be aware of the gifts and beauty surrounding us. I will try to make good decisions…and perhaps fail…and try again tomorrow. You too?