I would like to coin a new word: roadlessness. It appears most commonly as an adjective, simply as roadless, in its use within conservation circles, such as in "roadless wilderness areas." The first roadless wilderness area was established in 1924 by the U.S. Forest Service in southwest New Mexico. As a U.S. Forest Service employee, Aldo Leopold was instrumental in the development of the concept and its initial implementation. My purpose in coining this new word is to be able to speak of roadlessness as an essential component of wilderness and not simply as a descriptive characteristic or quality of a wilderness tract within which all motorized travel is not permitted. The core element of roadlessness is the complete absence of motorized vehicles of any number, size, and configuration. Pristine wilderness areas are not without roads in their own right, such as game trails, the migratory routes of prehistoric and native peoples, and the very lay of the land itself.

A Google search for roadlessness results in a few hits, most of which are for various on-line dictionaries. The term appears to have been used in a few U.S. Forest Service publications. My claim to coinage may have been premature. If that be so, I make a claim to encourage its common usage and expanded meaning. One Google hit was Tom Turner's 2009 book, Roadless Rules, where Roadlessness is the title of one chapter, and curiously, the word appears no where else in the entire chapter.

The local library provided me with a copy of the collected works of a Canadian outdoor writer, Andy Russell. The book is titled Wild Country, The Best of Andy Russell. I was struck by an observation made by the editor in the introduction which cited a pivotal event in the life of Russell, that is, the establishment of roads within Canada's public lands and the Province of Alberta, in particular. Road building on public lands in the 1950's was an occasion for Andy Russell to rethink his lifestyle and enterprises and to significantly alter both. After I read this brief reference to the very opposite of roadlessness, I found myself thinking of works and authors where I have previously encountered discussions of the intrusiveness of roads in public lands. As I pulled a few volumes off my book shelf and reviewed the notes of other reads, I was struck by the timeframe during which this concept entered the outdoor and conservation literature. It was early in the 20th century. I suspect that it coincides with the rise of automobile ownership within the general population.

I offer the following list of authors by way of history and background and as my inspiration to coin a new word and/or encourage its common usage.
     Edwin Dahlberg, 1882 - 1971
     Aldo Leopold, 1887 - 1948
     Sigurd Olson, 1899 - 1982
     Eric Morse, 1904 - 1986
     Andy Russell, 1915 - 2005
     Mark Spragg, 1952
     Philip Connors, 1972 (?)
Looking at these birth years, I am struck with how quickly the automobile was seen as posing a critical impact on wilderness. The majority of these folks were contemporaries of one another, although I doubt that they all were personal acquaintances of one another. (My brief list is in no way intended to be complete, by any means or measure.)

I will grant you there may well have been and continue to be considerable nostalgia for the old ways among this group of folks, but there was also a keen insight into where things were headed and how important it was to let some places just be--places where man travels afoot, on horseback, or by paddle and portage.  Roadlessness is essential to the preservation of the ecosystem--the natural community of flora and fauna within their particular geography. These are places that move in geological epochs and evolutionary eras, where we get to experience our own vulnerability and ever so short season on this earth. Where else do we learn that we have more in common with annual grasses and flowering plants than with perennials and even less with that which sustains itself and all else?

There remain those times that, even at 71 years of age, I find myself in situations pondering the question "Just what rule applies here?"

The situation is in reference to counter seating, as in restaurant lunch counter, and applicable to all meals and ever so brief repasts taken in this setting. My observation is that folks always leave at least one stool in between themselves and patrons already in situ. Rule One can be stated as "One or more vacant stools shall remain between individual patrons." An exception is when two or more folks are a party of sorts and then side by side seating is permissible.

Rule Two comes into play when there are insufficient empty stools and Rule One cannot be applied. Before taking an adjourning stool, the expectation is that new arrival asks "Is this place taken?" One does not ask "May I join you?" The latter question may assume or presume a level of engagement beyond a common activity in a shared space and more of a shared activity in a common space. Such engagement may follow simple co-presence, but it is impolite to couch one's request in the terms of a pick-up line, albeit veiled, thinly or otherwise. Rule Two can be stated as "Ask prior permission before occupying an adjourning stool." A Sub-rule to Rule Two is that the new arrival is to select an empty stool next to an individual of the same gender. If that is not possible and the only available stools are next to individuals of an alternate gender, then select a stool next to the individual who appears to be in a party of sorts thus allowing for their safety in numbers.

There is also a Rule Three, commonly called The Good Morning Rule, which applies when taking a stool next to an individual with whom one has some familiarity. The new arrival simply establishes occupancy accompanied by the usual sound effects to make one's presence known, a proverbial knock on the door. The appropriate time of day greeting follows. A quick mutual assessment of the tone indicates to the co-seaters what will follow--quiet or conversation. One individual may throw out a teaser line referencing the weather--current or forecast. The response or lack of a response from the other sets the mood and/or tone--quiet or conversational.

Even with the best of intentions with the goal of living the self-examined life to the fullest, these situations are wrought with potential and actualized errors. Not everyone knows these rules, nor is everyone conscientious in applying them. Finally, there are folks whose primary objective is not a bit of nutritional sustenance, but the maximization of the opportunity to mingle--social sustenance. When faced with a rule violation in such a situation, a call to 911 is inappropriate. At these times, it is best to reach back, find the necessary reserves to push through the next 30 or 45 minutes and focus on your cold toast.

From a very small sample size, I have reason to believe that these same or very similar rules apply to bar stools. From my limited experience, I have found that there is a greater propensity for conversation over quiet between occupants of bar stools. I have heard talk that couched or thinly veiled pick-up lines are more acceptable in the bar context or, at least, a lot more common. Humor is frequently employed as a test or teaser line. The topic of Bar Rules, as an ancillary set of Stool Rules and their additional Sub-rules, warrant further study and, hopefully, clarification.

The house kitty corner across the street is for sale and has been for a number of months. Either I am curious or simply have too much time on my hands, I have been taking note of folks who stop by to take a look. Some are escorted by one of the local real estate agents; others appear to be "just looking" as they walk the yard. A third group is even more subtle; these folks slowly drive by and turn onto the side street (The house sits on a corner lot.) to get the view from another perspective and determine if the property has a possible "better side." The boldest of these drivers-by may even turn into the alley for a third point of view.

I try to get some idea of the particular folks looking the place over and who must might be a potential purchaser and eventual new neighbor. There are out-of-state and in-state license plates among the visitors. The vehicles, for the most part, are quite modest. If there has been a Corvette or a Hummer among those stopping by, I have missed them. The visitors/interested parties/prospective buyers range in age from young adults to well matured adults. There also has been apparent off-spring of these folks some of which are of the teenage variety.

After who, the question becomes why. Is the occupant-to-be intending to make this their primary residence or will it become a part-time residence or second home? The second home option raises an additional question: will the house be part of the local short-term rental market? Will it appear in the Airbnb system?

My speculation has me favoring year-a-around owner occupancy with the addition of children and pets. I won't speculate about the probability of a backyard chicken coop, but I won't rule it out either. My quick read of the city ordinance on the subject of animals would allow for the keeping of fowl as long as they are not at large. There is a reference to "barking dogs and crying cats," but no mention of noisy roosters or fowl without noting gender.

More questions come to mind:
What will be the new owner's personal philosophy with respect to the proper maintenance height of grass and the insistence mono-culture over vari-culture lawns?

What are the personally acceptable outside dates for the display of outside Christmas/Holiday lights and decorations? Will their tastes tend towards the minimalist or the extravagant? Will they be even more discrete and limit themselves to interior decorations? Will they be non-celebrants of this or other holidays? (There is, in fact, a city ordinance which stipulates that "holiday lighting" is exempt from provisions of the ordinance between November 30th and January 30th. That destroys my argument that fireworks are holiday lighting. Or are they permitted during that 62 day window?)

Are they dog or cat people? Inside or outside? Big dogs or not so big? (I don't size cats.)

When the realtor and any prospective buyers are around, I try to maintain a low profile staying inside and away from the windows. I don't want to negatively influence the decisions of these folks. They will have to make their call based on externals, that is, the appearance of my place, as to whether or not they would like to buy a home in my neighborhood. They can fantasize about who might live in that red house kitty corner across the street from the one they are considering. If they should find out they are wrong at some future date, they have only their fantasy to blame. My rationale will be that I have enough difficulty living up to my own self image, let alone trying to fulfill some one's fantasy.

By the way, my lawn mowing philosophy is medium height with regular mowing.

I have a bit of a follow-up to offer to my post of July 20th, where I brought up the notion of the inappropriateness of humor within the context of commentary on our current political scene.

I have noticed a change of tone in Garrison Keillor's recent columns. They appear on occasion in the New York Times and more regularly in the Reader, the free paper out of Duluth, MN. (The Reader offers itself as "The Best Paper Money Can't Buy.") Traditionally, Garrison has employed humor in his critique of and comment on imagined as well as real events--be they based in Lake Wobegon or Washington, DC. Recent columns appear to have set aside the humor. The Reader's by-line may be telling; Garrison is described as a "columnist, radio host, and author." Wikipedia continues to describe Garrison as an "American author, storyteller, humorist, voice actor, and radio personality."
(Emphasis added.)

Rather than the use of humor for diversion or a satirical critique, Garrison quietly offers an alternate focus by way of counterbalance to the chaos in the enterprise of politics and governance. He celebrates communities marked by civility, compassion, and diversity as he writes of the summer solstice in Norway or summertime travel in New York City subways. We are challenged to reach for our better selves enriching our lives and the lives of those around us by celebrating the diversity of thought, political identity, ethnicity, race, geography, and socio-economics present in our national and international communities. We are asked to take note of the goodness that surrounds us, the capacity for resilience and repentance--the former always a good thing--the latter when appropriate. We avoid mocking the sickness present in certain spheres. We get on with healing--doing right by folks.

The summer of 2017 marks a return to a former practice and a re-found disregard for marauding black bears. After a few years of absence, the hummingbird and thistle feeders are back up. There were a few nights early on when I took the thistle feeder in at dark and put it back out in the morning. I no longer bother. I haven't seen any bear activity in the immediate neighborhood. The next-door neighbor has a dumpster, which would seem to be a prime target in the immediate area. It had been raided by the bruins in summers past. For the summer of 2017, it appears that it is no longer or not yet on the bears' list of preferred dining spots.

An article in today's local newspaper (Ashland Daily Press) reports that 40% of the diet of bears "harvested" in northern Wisconsin was comprised of bait. Hunters can bait bears for 180 days from mid-April through the bear hunting season in late October. The Department of Natural Resources estimates that some 4 million gallons of bait are consumed annually. It could be that hunters are providing bears with the good stuff so dumpster diving for sour food scraps mixed in with the regular household trash, to include cat litter and dog poop, no longer has the charm that it may at one time held.

But I digress. I intended to talk about birds and bird feeders or is it more appropriate to call them bird bait stations? It all comes down to the harvesting euphemism.

In any case and perchance due to a bit of good luck or the lack of bad luck on my part, the feeders have been left for the birds. Hummingbirds and gold finches make for quality touches to the yard. Each, in their own way, is not unlike a flowering plant in the landscape. Unlike flowers, the presence of these two is not limited to a brief period of bloom like most perennial flowers. Each also brings its personal style. The hummingbirds define kinesis. The particular characteristics of their flight remind one of fighter pilots. They may not have the white silk scarf of the movie version of a World War II ace, but the adult males have an iridescent magenta ascot when the lighting is just right. Magenta may not the most accurate color descriptor, but once I read this description of the color in Wikipedia, it just seemed to be so right, hands down.  "Magenta is an extra-spectral color, meaning that it is not found in the visible spectrum of light. Rather, it is physiologically and psychologically perceived as the mixture of red and violet/blue light, with the absence of green." (Wikipedia) Much about hummingbirds is unexpected, that is, outside of the usual spectrum of possibilities that we commonly observe in nature, so why should we not describe their coloring as an "extra-spectral"?

The male goldfinches are decked out in full bling mode--gold leaf tuxedos with black accents. They look stunning in any light--the full sun of mid-day to the half lights of dawn and dusk. The females in their spring gold (Yes, spring gold was a Pontiac Firebird color in 1969.) attire make for handsome couples on the two perch thistle feeder.

There is a single chick-a-dee that hangs around the yard and frequents the thistle feeder. There is a working man quality to his black, gray, and white outfit. It may not stand out all that much on the summer stage flush with greens. I easily recall the contrast such an outfit brings to a winter scene in its stark monochrome. Chick-a-dees and nuthatches are to winter what hummingbirds and goldfinches are to summer. I am more than willing to accommodate an occasional one or more of these winter regulars to stop by during the tourist season. If it insures the return of several when the pretty birds of summer are long gone, I am all the more willing to welcome them to the table of summer treats. I am simply paying forward to the winter of 2017-2018.

I have not used this blog to comment on the national or state political scene since last fall. This action or lack of action has been the result of an explicit decision to avoid the topic. I haven't changed my mind with this post, but I will comment on not commenting on that very topic.

So many of the events of the past eight months defy traditional political analysis. Journalists have been forced to alter their practice in order to maintain some semblance of relevancy and legitimacy. Comedians and humorists are having more than enough material for their extended daily monologues and weekly columns. It is as if we are faced with a choice of crying or laughing and we choose the latter. I have asked myself the question: "Are there times when laughter as an alternative to crying is an indefensible choice?" In such cases, the laughter may well come at too great of an expense. It belittles the seriousness of the underlying situation and makes light of the potentially disastrous consequences of the behavior of those responsible for governance. I have answered this question for myself by avoiding most late night and cable comedy shows altogether. Abstinence also seems to be a good policy when it comes to limiting one's exposure to cable news. The repetitiveness within the 24 hour news cycle makes for more hype than information.

As I collected my thoughts and made a few notes as I began this post, the language of the theater clearly dominated as I considered my choice of descriptive words with which I could speak of the contemporary political scene. In addition to scene, there was actor, stage, drama, tragedy, comedy, fantasy, science fiction, minstrel show, make-up, costume, and suspension of disbelief. It is as if the script has been torn up and the director fired. Are we watching several one-man shows all taking place on a single stage at the same time? 

There are those things

Only a lover can do

Wants to do

Will do

When I read that La Civilta Cattolica recently published an article titled Evangelical Fundamentalism and Catholic Integralism in the USA: A Surprising Ecumenism, I had to look it up. I even printed out a copy which is now marked up by a yellow highlighter and a red pen. A read and a number of rereads have me thinking and noting connections between this piece and other recent reads.

An aside for background on this publication is warranted. The title translates as Catholic Civilization. It has been published continuously since 1850. All articles are subject to revision by and the approval of the Vatican's Secretariat of State prior to publication. The purpose of the publication is to "promote a catholic culture, thought, and civilization in the modern world. . .in fidelity to
the magisterium of the church." (Wikipedia) In other words, it is considered an official organ of the central authority of the Roman Catholic Church.

The article is a critical analysis of the political scene in the United States with particular emphasis on the collaboration of Christian-Evangelical fundamentalists and Catholic integralists in pursuit of their socio-political goal of "a problematic fusion between religion and state, faith and politics, religious values and economy." It points out the danger in using this particular orientation to address a full range of issues from ecological crises, to ecumenism, to religious liberty in a secular state, and to armed conflict. There is a directly stated challenge to the "non-allegorical understanding" of biblical texts with the added caution that  ". . .a unidirectional reading of the biblical texts can anesthetize consciences or actively support the most atrocious and dramatic portrayal of a world. . ."

Those quotes from the article remind me of the response Noam Chomsky gave to an interviewer's question whether there were religious motivations that framed Chomsky's social justice work. The response reads: "No religious motivation, and for sound reasons. One can contrive a religious motivation for virtually any choice of action, from commitment to the highest ideals to support for the most horrendous atrocities. In the sacred texts, we find uplifting calls for peace, justice and mercy, along with the most genocidal passages in the literary canon. Conscience is our guide, whatever trappings we might choose to clothe it in." (New York Times, July 5, 2017)

Reinhold Niebuhr in his work The Irony of American History published in 1952 notes that there is a "mixture of good and evil in all human virtue" and "even the best human actions involve some guilt." When Niebuhr speaks of American exceptionalism, it is in the context of the "sin of American exceptionalism." Human communities and, most certainly, nation states claim innocence "according to their own official myth and collective memory."

I think what these three voices are saying is that any and all human endeavors fall short of perfection, if for no other reason than the simple fact they are human endeavors. Everyone and everything is a work in progress and will remain so as long as there are human actors. Niebuhr describes original sin as "the inevitable confusion between the relative (the individual in context) and the universal." Making use of the language of Christian morality, sin may be a simple and well-founded acknowledgment of the limited capacity of the human species and the individual person for perfection. Such a state is simply not attainable in either our personal lives or our corporate endeavors. Is it from this perspective that Pope Francis speaks of universal "sinner-hood" and poses the question "Who am I to judge?" The central message of the La Civilta Cattolica article is that no socio-political structure, nation state, or human organization can lay claim to absolute superiority, perfection, and the ultimate incarnation of the ideal. The human endeavor that wraps itself in the cloak of the absolute good and all others in varying degrees culminating in absolute evil is only masking its false and preposterous claim to that which is humanly impossible and that which is inhumane.

Does a moral equivalency argument have any place in Christian moral thought? Can one even raise this question with any degree of legitimacy in a discussion of New Testament Christian morality? Does it provide another angle of insight into Pope Francis' question "Who am I to judge?" Quantitatively there are manners of degree when it comes to human activity. Can such methodology be applied in Christian moral thinking?  Or is there no qualitative difference that can be used to justify certain actions or ranking of actions? If this is a legitimate question and a perspective that the individual Christian is to make use of in evaluating the relative merits or moral uprightness of his/her own and the behavior of others, are we left with anything other than saints and sinners indistinguishable from one another living in anarchy or in a vision and version of heaven?

I don't have a clear answer. The message in all this may well be there are no clear answers. This is one more aspect of the human condition that is simply incapable of perfection. Wisdom, or simply old age, may be that time that has been described in various ways, one of which I will try to paraphrase: When I was young I knew lots of things with lots of certainty, now that I am older I know a lot more things with a lot less certainty.

THE QUESTIONS OF THE DAY.

As we see additional states legalizing the recreational use of marijuana, the following question comes to mind.

When will Cannabis futures be traded on the Chicago Merchantile Exchange as an agricultural commodity along with corn, soy beans, pork bellies, canners, and cutters?

What will be the unit of measure--pound, hundred weight, or bushel?

I will not be in the market to purchase and trade Cannabis futures and options. I suspect a bullish high will precede a bearish low with all paper profits going up in smoke, as it were.

With the assistance of a forester, I have learned of the presence of several members of an invasive species in my yard. They are invasive simply by their presence well outside of their normal range. Having found their way into the local environment they certainly seem to have flourished. I will leave them right where they are; they are a whole bigger than I am by 10-fold or more. ( I could gather up a tape measure, protractor, pen, and paper and calculate a more accurate measure of their height, rather than guesstimate how many of me's would it take to stand that tall.) In addition to the disproportionate comparison of height, they are also a whole lot better looking than I.

I am speaking of a group of three Grand Fir (Abies grandis). They are known by several common names, including Western White Fir. There are two varieties and their home range is the Pacific Northwest. The home range of one, Coastal Grand Fir, (var. grandis) is the Oregon/Washington coast and the western slope of the Rockies.  The home range of the other, Interior Grand Fir, (var. idahoensis) is the eastern slopes of the Rockies and the Cascades. They are reported to be hardy to zone 6. According to the United States Department of Agriculture mapping, these particular trees are currently residing in zone 5 or 5a, so they may be pushing that limit. They grow in elevations from sea level to 5,100 feet. My yard is a little more than 600 feet above sea level. One characteristic I have made note of over the years is that they don't drop cones like most pines. The 3-4" cones form only within the top 10 or so feet of the tree. The cones fall apart or disintegrate in place, if you will, approximately 6 months after pollination. One does not find intact cones, that have dried and released their seeds, on the ground. According to the forester the needles have a characteristic lemon or citrus odor when crushed or broken. (I am able to concur with this observation.) The species is a valuable source of lumber and is one of several species marketed as hem fir.

Off to the side of this small grove of Grand Fir and the several off-spring which they have produced are several White Spruce (Picea glauca). This is a species of the climax boreal forest and thrive in zones 3 through 7. A northwestern most slice of Wisconsin apparently makes the grade as boreal forest country. Therefore these folks are more native. All in all, the locals and the interlopers are getting along just fine. The Grand Fir, if true to their nature and adequately supported by the immediate environment, will continue to increasingly tower over their Spruce neighbors in the years ahead.

I can only speculate how the Grand Fir arrived in northern Wisconsin. The story is told that a previous owner of several lots in this city block was an employee of a county or state forestry department. Before these lots were developed and partially cleared for home sites, the owner planted extra seedlings that he had brought home from work. (I do not know the circumstances under which he found himself in possession of "extras.") I estimate that this all took place prior to the outbreak of World War II during the days of the WPA.

I find myself wondering if there are stands of Grand Fir elsewhere in the county. Did they thrive well and long enough to be harvested for paper making or some other wood product in the years since? Are any still standing today?

This is one of those posts that as it begins I have absolutely no idea where and how it will end. It may be very brief, and it may simply end.

Today would have been my father's 105th birthday. I don't know what it is about the number 5 and numbers ending it 5. I recall noting what would have been his 95th birthday and what was the 5th anniversary of his death, both of which occurred in 2007. These days were not marked by a passing thought of their significance in this respect, but by a certain persistent attention to, if not preoccupation with, the events of 1912 and 2002.

A Google search on the meaning of the number 5 reveals some interesting comments. Five is the number of the human being: four limbs and head and also five senses. It is also the number symbolizing marriage as it combines the female number 2 and the male number 3. I am afraid all this seems rather arbitrary, and doesn't strike me as helpful in answering my question: what is it about the number 5?

Now that I've pointed out this apparent significance to myself, I can only imagine that I will continue to dwell on the cycling of 5's going forward. I may be hooked by what occurred without any explanation during the past 10 years or the mystery of why it continues to occupy my thoughts or a combination thereof. It will not be be anniversary itself that has me thinking. It will be thinking about the anniversary that has me thinking.

Next month will mark what would have been my mother's 95th birthday. December will mark the 15th anniversary of my father's death. Two grandchildren will celebrate their 5th birthdays later this summer--one in late August and one in early September. That is a lot of 5's to think about during the remaining half of 2017. It may be best to think about the full range of 5's rather than to dwell on any one or just those with similar characteristics and emotional impacts.

This is that time of the year

should one come to a fork in the road, 

one may easily come to the conclusion 

that someone is making hay 

in the old way.

They say young men dream dreams and old men dream the dreams of youth. That might well be what reminiscence is all about. In the process of aging, not unlike both good and bad wine, dreams become memories subject to both aggrandizement and minimization. How dangerous is either? It may depend upon the presence or absence of an intermediate step and a well-founded appraisal of that intermediate step. The intermediate step in question is some degree of the earlier actualization of those dreams. Reminiscence (1)retells our close calls with greatness, disaster, and the in-between degrees of the same, (2)recalls who we once thought we were and who we would become, and (3)simultaneously provides entertainment for others and a reassurance for ourselves that we may continue to have access to a future with memories not yet made and reminiscences not yet given voice.

I suspect there is a degree and varying degrees of danger in reminiscence. Sometimes it feels like driving in reverse with only the view through a clouded rear window to guide one. At other times it feels like driving forward while looking back with only the backside of the rear-view mirror for guidance. The latter only works well when the vehicle is sitting in one's driveway with the motor running, the transmission in park, and the parking brake engaged. Tapping the gas pedal creates the sounds and shimmy of the perception of actual movement. This is about as safe as it gets. At least until someone takes the keys away.

Wresting with demons
-real or imagined-

is just a little bit easier 

with an angel as one's 'corner man,'

even if only an imaginary one 

-as it seems she might be.