7/16/2026

This picture isn't from the Smoky Mountains.

 It's my backyard in Michigan where the Canadian wildfire smoke has crept in on little 'cat feet,' as Carl Sandburg would say.

 There is an air quality warning today as temperatures are high and the smoke-to-particulate ratio is harmful to health. 

Things in my world are not okay, and as if to emphasize that, a bird crashed into the sliding door at first light this morning. Did the smoke in the air disorient it? 

Maybe,  but strangely it's not the first time it's occurred this week. It reminds me of those Alfred Hitchcock movies where there is an ominous sign of foreboding as the curtain opens.

For lunch today, I would like to enjoy a salad. 

But cyclosporiasis cases continue to rise, as the produce associated with them hasn't been definitively identified. One recommendation is to avoid lettuce altogether.

 As a science teacher for many years, I feel it is my duty to sound a few alarm bells. These environmental events, although natural, could have been avoided if we had valued scientists and organizations that monitor them.

 Although merely pre-teens, most of my students were thoughtful stewards of the earth. We learned about the conservation of natural resources, their management, and the role that government regulatory agencies play in keeping our country safe. There always seemed to be a safety net.

 I took many classrooms on walks for Clean Water, and the organization explained that they used an UV light to make the protozoa in the water unable to replicate, so people drinking it didn't get sick.  These water cleaners were for undeveloped and poor nations. Not the United States.

 Without being too controversial, I want to ask you all ...are you okay with less oversight? Do you want to go back to the days when overfishing the lakes led to an alewife die-off, and air and water quality issues made swimming off-limits? There was no E. coli testing done back then on beach water that might be too contaminated for swimming. 

Today, we can look back, with the help of the DNR, to understand why things happened and to make changes, so they don't happen again.

 Forestry has long been studied by federal departments both in the United States and Canada, but you don't have to be an expert to understand that when weather patterns in these areas are altered, and there is no rain, things turn dry and brittle. If you don't believe it, do the research. Earth is getting warmer. This affects climates all over the world. Temperatures are through the roof on all continents this summer. 

The United States has cut into the Food and Drug Administration budget so much so that a parasite that is found on crops in third-world countries is presently sickening thousands of its citizens due to backing off on regulation that ensures the safety of our food supply.

 Advances in established procedures have been put on hold during the restructuring of the national budget.  I walked by a gas station today, and the price of gas has spiked from 3.83/gallon yesterday to 4.15 over night. 

How many of us are ignoring the fact that our world becomes less safe by the day?

I read a book the other day about people so fed up with politics that they turn off all media. In a perfect world, that might be the thing to do, but today, life should not be more difficult than it was fifty years ago.  We have to speak up. Talk to each other. 

When simple science is put aside for the immediate gratification of citizens, who ultimately pays the price?

 Thanks for listening. 

6/24/26

Two questions.

Is empathy taught?

 Why do I love watching birds?

 You might think these topics couldn't be farther apart, but hear me out. 

As a young girl doing a sleepover at my great-grandmother's house, I remember following the scent of coffee to the breakfast room in her farmhouse. It had a picture window overlooking a fairy-like yard with an old-fashioned bird feeder that looked like a house without walls. Up with the sun, she filled the feeder with tasty treats for her daily visitors, and if the great grandkids were visiting, we got a soft, slow, thoughtful lesson in animal habits.

 She knew all the types. Which ones would peck at the bag of suet or choose the loose seeds that lay on the ground. The blue jays were the bullies. The songbirds loved thistle. It is a tangible memory, languishing in my pj's on a long, slow summer morning, listening to the soothing timbre of her voice. 

Suddenly, like a shot, she's out of her chair and rapping on the window. To see her body move like that was startling; the cause had to be something serious. I remember her pointing to a black squirrel who climbed up the feeder and was sitting inside it, scarfing down the seeds by the handful.  Sweeping through to the back steps, she was outside in her housecoat, her feet hastily pushed into an old pair of boots.

 It had to be something wildly offensive for that squirrel to be where he was, glomming up all the seeds and leaving grandma's frustrated, feathered friends clicking and tweeting in disgust. This was better than television. What would she do to it?

 This is where the empathy part comes in. As she fled out the back, she picked up a small bucket with a lid. It was filled with dried ears of corn. She took a few and threw them on the ground, and just as quickly retreated. 

Back at the table, she poured herself a cup of black coffee and caught her breath.

 "Those squirrels are bullies too, huh, Gram?" I asked. 

"Oh, honey, no. The squirrels deserve breakfast, too. I forgot to put out the corn."

You see, my old gram believed that everyone had a place at the table. The lesson that day wasn't about cardinals or nut hatches; it was about stewardship. Well, if only on the smallest scale. But I liked the idea, and it was part of what made that place magic. 

Thanks for listening.