Unfortunate News

(I was in the heat of this post when our internet cut out. It was revived this afternoon. This chronicle, delayed from Wednesday, is predictably upsetting. Had I been able to finish writing as my sadness flowed through that moment--you might have accurately caught my gist. And I am rambling…)

My plate is full. I should be scurrying around trying to make sure everything that needs to be handled before full-time holiday mode sets in is complete. I have a list a mile-long, with 'secure a job' at the top.

When I refreshed my email, I had a link to this article regarding an old beaver pond in the Beartooth Mountains of Montana boldly waiting in my inbox. I can all but guarantee you will have no interest in the contents of this article... but I had to share my devastation. I am momentarily flustered and quite off track.

So I am here, writing, at noon on a weekday. I poured another cup of coffee. I have The Avett Brothers playing on Pandora. My Rocky Mountain Field Ecology pictures are pulled up... and I am scanning for the old beaver pond. The author of the article, nature/wildlife photographer Dan Hartman, took my Ecology 491 class to his treasured spot, this old beaver pond, on our May 2008 trip.

These are the images I have from my brief visit to the (Beartooths and) pond. They are low-quality, forgive me, I was working with 3.2 megapixels. It really is a gem to be "treasure[d] for its' purity... packed with diverse habitat."

I am struck by the harsh reminder of the way life often works in this world. I am unmistakably disheartened for Hartman's loss. This was his place. Then the reminder: life is a game. We question the rules, the fairness--unless of course it is going our way. I have been discouraged by the roadblocks in my path; my skill set limits me from competing on the level I would prefer. I want to stop. To complain. Worse though are the losses--exceeding my control--I am forced to accept. The game continues and sitting out is never an option.

Living in an area of exploding suburbia, habitats are being ruined faster than I can blink. We, the destructors, place an insurmountable challenge on our creatures, whether deer or songbird... and they never have a voice. I do not have the answers for exploding population, for our need to reconstruct and redesign nature. Instead I have distrust in we--the destructors. I have loads of raw emotion--genuine sorrow for the creatures we continually take from. The ones who silently forge on in this game of life.