After just a few intermittent days of sun and warmth, we are back to unremitting gray, depressing darkened skies and snow – spring snow, that melts into muddy blackness in hours, before the next snow dump briefly hides the muck. Around my home that muck is worse than usual, much of it the blackened ashy residue of last spring’s wildfire that somehow clings far more readily and tenaciously than ordinary spring mud.
I find it a challenge not to become depressed as the exceptionally endless gray periods of this past winter have extended far longer than usual, through all of February and now much of March. One of the normal blessings of living in New Mexico is how much sun we receive. I remember only one other time in the past 50 plus years when, in my corner of the state at least, we had such week upon week of gray weather. One of those was the first summer I moved up here, near Mora, from my previous home just south of Santa Fe. I never needed my light summer clothing that year – it didn’t get either bright or warm enough to shed long-sleeved blouses. That was the summer of 1990. I questioned what I had done to myself by moving… thankful to realize by the end of that year that it had been an aberration, not repeated until this past autumn/winter/now spring when it has been gray for weeks on end.
I have a close friend who lives on the Oregon coast – and have teasingly accused her of sending her natural climate down here to torment me, while she responds that I’ve caused her to have to cope with too much hard-to-tolerate heat. The exchange of “normal”, apparently part of the shifts in pattern reflective of climate change, between here and there displeases us both.
I am mindful of the scientists warning that our concepts of normal must also change. Well aware that I should be grateful for the snow bringing much needed moisture to this still drought-stricken state, I ask for the virtually unobtainable – winter weeks of sunshowers, those ephemeral hours we sometimes enjoy in summer, when one can be sitting in sunshine and watch it rain hard just a quarter mile away. In past years something akin would occur from late February throughout March and sometimes into April – a heavy dump of snow over a 12 hour period followed by bright sunshine melting the piles, filling the creeks that run into the lake that supplies water to Las Vegas (the original one) NM. It is the unfamiliar gray day after gray day for a week or more at a time, all through this past winter and now into spring, that I find hard to endure.
It is probable that the gloomy weather contributed to my decision last week to get baby chicks. My flock of hens (and a few roosters) is sizable, their egg production more than I can readily dispose of since a few long-time customers have moved elsewhere. I do not need to enlarge, nor really to renew the egg factory. I just want something that, when I look at it, says “spring” and gives me reason to smile. See if you don’t agree.
1eclecticwriter 
World Enough and Time
May 25, 2020The wear and tear of time, plus assorted horse and motor vehicle accidents and a couple slip and falls have collectively resulted in a task of aging. More of my time than I wish had been needed over the past 18 months has been spent sorting out the causes of a variety of body pains, the triggers that set them off, and what treatments can reduce the pain to livable without creating new and different health problems. Along the way I verified the now-scientifically-proven hypothesis that ups and downs of the barometer are felt in the joints in advance of the visible weather changes they herald. I succeeded in identifying a sluggish gallbladder that the tests my doctor ordered merely confirmed. I’ve adopted some preventive herbals treatments and now have a few that have proven effective when different types of pain become too strong to ignore.
So I’m about as settled into effective symptom management as I expect is possible. And trying at the same time to settle into accepting that I can only respond to, not control, the variables, so will always have to be flexible in facing what each day presents.
All of which activity I now find may have had a different ultimate purpose than the obvious one of helping me become more comfortable in my daily activities. The detecting involved is now being called upon for quite another challenge. I want to sort out what underlies the so far inexplicable fluctuation in egg production from my small flock of hens.
Some of the variables – weather in particular – are probably the same as those that affect my pain levels. Cold and damp are not helpful. High wind is also probably as disturbing to the ladies as it is to my joints. But other potential factors are unique to the flock and as yet unidentified by me. I’m considering their amount of food (type also) and access to water in the small bowl they prefer (the bigger one that assures they do not go without is consistently shunned). I try to note whether our protective dog has been barking more – or less – at the variety of four legged visitors who pass nearby. Is she engaged with running off stray dogs who can be considered a threat by the hens , or merely alerting that the neighbor’s cows are in an adjacent pasture? Might there be a snake or a passing skunk disturbing them? Are some of them, like me, just feeling the aches and fatigue of age? I know there is one that must be recovering from the exquisite pain of laying the largest double yolk egg I have ever seen!
Two of the hens have gone broody, despite not having a rooster around to impregnate them. They will, I trust, resume laying when they fail in their attempts to hatch sterile eggs. Will they be challenged into more consistent production by the presence of 5 new flock members, including a young rooster? Or will they instead divert their energy to the establishment of a new pecking order with the youngsters put in their bottom-of-the-pole place?
Without access to comprehensible feedback, such as my own body gave me, I question whether I will ever have answers that enable me to reliably collect eggs from everyone each day. No matter – puzzling my way through the variables is a good distraction from equally unanswerable questions about what lies ahead for us all as we move on into the changing world we are glimpsing. As often as I have heard, and have quoted to myself, that the only certainty is change, my mind continues to try to find answers – certainty – in complex situations which defy resolution. Undoubtedly that is why I relax at night with crossword puzzles and Free Cell. Solvable challenges, with set answers.
That same mind that likes order and seeks connections recently made me aware of a list of seemingly unconnected situations. Green ice in the Antarctic, shrinking of the polar caps, bark beetle devastation of forests in the southern Rockies, insect destruction of olive groves in France and Italy, more frequent and more fierce storms of all types all around the globe, non-seasonal temperature extremes setting ever new records, spread of hostile insects like the killer bees into environments where they have not previously been known, and of course now the worldwide spread of virulent new virus-based illnesses. A quick and easy answer is “climate change” if the question is “what is the cause of all these negatives?”
But when the question is “what is the solution?” no such single simple answer presents itself.
Nor is there a single simple answer to my questions about how I will adapt to a recently changed pattern in my personal life, a change that is still evolving, with key decisions yet to be made. In past years my life circumstances enforced the learning of patience – waiting for the time to be right for significant alteration in employment, companionship and other facets of daily life. Now I seem to be facing the opposite lesson. Or maybe just a different facet of patience – learning to step back and observe fast moving changes without feeling I have to act or “figure it all out.”
Just as I am unlikely to sort out all the influences on my chickens’ egg laying propensities, and I know I don’t have many answers to the multitude of manifestations of change in the environment; just as I know my scope of action in our tormented civil (uncivil) society is limited to what I can do in my immediate surroundings; so too I need to remind myself daily that my mind is not in charge of finding answers to my personal challenges. Those require detachment, patience, observation and tolerance of uncertainty.
The way forward for me personally, and for the larger society as well, will show itself in due time.
Who knows, maybe I’ll also be gifted with an insight that turns my poultry yard into the most prolific egg production unit in the region. Wouldn’t that be fun!
Tags:human potential, pain, patience, plagues, poultry, relationships
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