“Haut les coeurs!” — High the Hearts!, from the French… The Role of Beauty in These Times

When I lived in Cannes, my neighbors of the villa taught me a slogan they were utilizing to get them through their dire campaign involving Le Pen – for which they had to vote three times in the departement of their births, which meant leaving the haven of Provence.

“Haut les coeurs!”, [sounds like “o, liqueurs!”] conveys the sustaining command to hold high our hearts, no matter what.  The French are masters of this art, as their revolutionary scene of Marianne in the midst of the battle, hearteningly conveys.

 

https://i2.wp.com/resources3.news.com.au/images/2013/10/25/1226746/604343-liberty-leading-the-people-marianne.jpg

 

NJWILDBEAUTY readers know that my own heart has been leaden, so that I have not been able summon the Muse to craft new blogs.  A certain level of joie de vivre is essential to these ‘pages’, a joie seriously lacking.  My heart does not even  feel red any longer — rather, the grey/yellow-green of this morning’s discouraging sky.

 

willow-weep-for-me-1-abbott-marshlands

“Willow, Weep For Me”, Spring Lake, Abbott Marshlands, January 20, 2017

 

A British friend writes us, warning that we not “fall into the Slough of Despond.”  A kind of “Pilgrim’s Progress” is our plan this day, although it’s too late about the falling.  My friend’s warning is timely and urgent – that we not descend further; above all that we do not wallow.  Attention to the beautiful and the wild, she urges, has never been more important.  I’m considering this, considering…

 

beckoning-tree-spring-lake-abbott-marshlands-1-20-17

Beckoning Tree, Spring Lake, Abbott Marshlands, January 20, 2017

 

France’s Marianne, with her brave, billowing Tricoleur [flag] sustains me in these times.  Although we choose somewhat different garb, her spirit is required now.  We of this young country would call it “The Spirit of ’76”.

All my life, I’ve carried the spirit of our true Patriots, our Founding Fathers and Mothers.

But now — this recent scene in Trenton’s Abbott Marshlands is the world I deplore and dread — sheer desecration of our wild and sacred spaces:  We can expect far more than this — the visible and the invisible — as with pipelines beyond counting.

 

how-the-world-will-look-in-this-regime-abbott-marshlands

Present, at the Marsh.   Future, as we move on from this day.  Note small sign honoring habitat and the creatures whom we stand to lose…

And, to forge my way out of the Slough of Despond, I begin balancing images from this Abbott Marshlands pilgrimage upon “Inauguration” Day.  You’ll see that even in an overcast time, even when muddy trails greet hikers, beauty prevails.

But birding is why we are here.  Susan Burns, –indispensable Willing Hands (volunteer) at D&R Greenway events–, does so to save habitat, for birds in particular.  Here, she’s memorizing subtle gadwalls; dapper northern pintails, merry black and white coots; interspersed with jazzy orange, forest green and new-snow-white shovelers, — the rare ducks of winter — on waterways of the Marsh. 

 

susan-burns-intent-upon-gadwalls-abbott-marshlands

Susan Burns Intent Upon Rare Winter Ducks at Abbott Marshlands

 

Regarding the next image, Susan and (other birding friends and) I never know whose side we’re on.   “Nature raw in tooth and claw” is why we SAVE wildlands!  That balancing act, where everything cycles into use and blessing for everything else.  She and I conclude that this raptor must have been a great horned owl…  These clusters punctuate our waterside trail, followed by lacings of “whitewash” — excretions — typical of owls.  Of course, we’ll never know.  But without this preserved wild natural habitat, neither owls nor prey could survive.

 

the-way-of-the-wild-abbott-marshlands

The Way of the Wild, Abbott Marshlands

 

beavers-breakfast-abbott-marshlands

Beavers’ Breakfast, Abbott Marshlands

 

beaver-point-abbott-marshlands

Beaver Point, on the Yellow Trail, Abbott Marshlands

 

In the Marsh, Nature’ processes, –almost invisible, way beyond time–, are at work on every side.  Here we marvel at the splendid tapestry of fungus performing its slow transformative service upon the majestic felled beech.  Susan and I insist, — yes, aloud, yes, to the tree — “You are beautiful, imposing, arresting, even in death!”

 

beech-fungus-abbott-marshlands

Beech Fungus, felled beech, Abbott Marshlands

transformative-fungus-on-felled-beech-abbott-marshlands

Beech Fungus at Work near Beaver Point

 

Preservationists “pay any price, bear any burden” [JFK Inauguration] to save land and water to foster slow and sacred processes in force since before time itself.

Historians now grant Dr. Charles Conrad Abbott every honor for realizing and daring to state that artifacts he discovered in this Marsh give evidence of Lenape presence and use for 10,000 years and more! 

But Nature’s actions and interactions have been dynamically present here far far far far longer.  Who are WE to intrude, let alone arrest or destroy>

 

evocative-weeds-abbott-marshlands

Weeds Evoke my Mood, Spring Lake, Abbott Marshlands

 

even-the-weeds-hold-beauty-abbott-marshlands

Weeds Surpass my Mood, Spring Lake, Abbott Marshlands

 

natures-mourning-abbott-marshlands

Nature’s Mourning

 

We are told that the Lenapes named this Spring Lake in their own far more beautiful language, because it was born of a spring.  We are also told that the beavers were the engineers…

In its center, though invisible to my camera, are coots, gadwalls, pintails, shovelers and a plethora of gulls.  Over our heads here and at another watery site deep into our journey, we were circled and circled by an enormous mute swan.  It may be mating season — he sure acts like it.  We decided that this swan, circling us at least six times, was a teen-ager in a white convertible, cruising as did my best friends and I along Detroit’s Woodward Avenue in our teens.  That swan was simply displaying how spectacular he is, how absolutely irresistible.

It is so still in the Marsh, that we were overwhelmed by the irreplaceable whisper/roar [a kind of ‘whuff whuff whuff’] of air in the mute swan’s wings.

 

all-will-be-well-spring-lake-abbott-marshlands

“All will be well. All manner of things will be well.” Julian of Norwich — Spring Lake, Abbott Marshlands

Advertisements

Dear Mr. Snowy —

Snowy Owl, First NJ Sighting, LBI, November, 2014 by Ray Yeager, Fine Art Photographer

Snowy Owl, First NJ Sighting, LBI, November, 2014 by Ray Yeager, Fine Art Photographer

Oddly enough, this is a letter to an owl.

I avidly studied a recent Audubon article on the phenomenal irruption (visitation by many creatures not usually in our region) of snowy owls, particularly in New Jersey, during the winter of 2013.  Although I read everything I could find on snowies, after being gifted with their presence, at the Brigantine last year, I learned much that I never suspected from this splendid nature magazine put out by National Audubon.  Sometime in the night, after finishing the startling story, I wrote what you might call a fan letter:

Dear Mr. Snowy

here I thought you’d been driven down here

by an unaccustomed dearth of lemmings

that your sleepy golden eyes

encountered in wild reaches

of Brigantine Refuge

signified starvation

that being this far south

is half a hell for you

lacking your protective background

of snow on sand or tundra

but now I learn

that science

geolocators

and feather samples

reveal you to be absolutely bursting

with health and vigor

part of exceptionally large clutches

in your native Arctic

that you are capable of taking down

your very own relatives

–black ducks, mergansers, eiders–

not only coasting, pouncing

on Jersey mice and voles

but taking spectacularly in flight

and even sometimes on water

you can end the lives

of great blue herons

meanwhile, you sit here

blinking on snow-sifted sand

planning next kills

There is an intriguing sequel to writing this letter.  A few hours after I penned it, I was at work at D&R Greenway, where my job is to do what it takes to save New Jersey land, especially as habitat, especially for birds (my personal mission.)

In walked Ray Yeager, new friend and new artist to us.  Ray’s spectacular photographs, –not only of wild creatures, but also of wild preserves–, were the most purchased art works in our previous exhibition, “People of Preservation.”

Ray had just completed a seven-hour vigil along a very specific part of the Jersey Shore.  With the season’s first snowy owl!

Its portraits filled his camera.  We all crowded around, marveling.  With Ray’s permission to share his masterpieces, including for a November 26 article in US 1 (Business) Newspaper, “A Winter’s Tale,” I attach his most recent snowy.

Realize that irruptions rarely take place back-to-back.  Decades can separate them.

Know that November is early, even for a ‘normal’ irruption.

Get out on winter’s trails, in remote and treeless stretches near our coast.  You may be gifted with snowies, likely or not!

And do whatever you can to preserve what remains of our beleaguered state’s open spaces, so such wonders can unfold.

OWL THOUGHTS — 6 p.m. POLE FARM OCTOBER

Great Horned Owl by Brenda Jones

Great Horned Owl by Brenda Jones

(with honor to splendid poet, Joy Harjo)

 

OWL THOUGHTS

 

she heard some owls

who were distant and peremptory

and would not be gainsaid

 

she was searching

for the harrier

a fox

sight or sound of coyote

(though scat would do)

the black bear of last Monday

 

it was dusk

sun swallowed

only tatters

of a pewter sky

 

owl murmurs

filled forests

as light

had washed the sky

 

Carolyn Foote Edelmann

October 16, 2014