Rivenrock Gardens Cactus Blog

  That is a question I hear often, it was great to come across a web page that explains it well…. so now you can find about about what the standards for ‘organic’, sustainable, and other categories on the food that you might find in the market.

   How often have you ever heard people asking “Why did God create ticks”?  Now a daring and bold writer has gone out into the world asking this retorical question to some of the country’s leading scientists. And she put it into an article, go to ‘The Life Story of a Tick’ by Constance Casey for the inside scoop. You will likely find out a lot of little tidbits of tick info.

  New products development can take a great deal of time, and this product was no different,
but we are happy, and proud to be able to say that our cactus is now an ingredient in the
new Aveda product line called ‘Green Science Skin Care’.

  Yes, four different products in that line,
and each one has our Opuntia robusta organically grown cactus.

   Wow, cool!

   This line of products started selling a couple of months ago in parts of Asia,
and now is selling at your own Aveda Salon near you.

   It is a fun thing to be knowing that people the world over will be using and enjoying products that have our cactus as an ingredient.

   Organic farming is difficult to do on a huge basis. Part of the tenet of organics is the pull away from a monoculture environment wherein all the plants in a field, on a farm are of one variety or species. With diversification on a small organic farm, there is more interaction between the groups of plants, more rotation that might be practiced, and the movement from host to refuge plant for the good and bad bugs. This overall can have a very healthy effect on the plants and help to keep pest populations within manageable limits without the farmer having to resort to ‘control’ methods.

   Part of the problem with the modern organics movement is the plethora of large farms now signing on as ‘organic’ and trying to revert to the organic production of their grandparents. Unfortunately, organics is more difficult on a large scale, and these folks who are coming in often seem to be chasing the organic dollar rather than entering into agreements for organic production based upon philosophical reasons.

  Just recently this has been brought into the forefront due to a large cattle operation that is accused of violating organic standards and falsifying records. You can read the entire article at ‘USDA’s Organic Factory Farming Scandal Continues to Unravel’.

 is one of the pests that causes us some problems in our cactus plantings. The adults eat the tops of the leaves, leaving holes here and there. I suspect that they also lay eggs in the plants and this causes the entire plant to die.

   I looked at a number of websites that describe this insect pest, here are some of the best….

Bug facts site has a great article on this pest.

OK State University has a short articlethat also shows the insect in its larval stage where it would be described as a white worm or grub. This is the stage where they enter into plants near the ground, and tunneling through cause damage and rot to follow usually killing the entire plant.

   The National Sustainable Agriculture Information Service has among the best articles on this little critter.

   Yeah, they are a pest alright. And since we are organic, about the only thing we can do is put out sticky traps of yellow. But that would only be a small percentage gain. So we’ve just suffered through it, they are a constant headache, but cause only a small percentage of damage, still, you want all the leaves to be beautiful, but such is never to be. We live in a world in which nearly half the harvest is lost to insects, diseases, animals, mismanagement, theft and confiscation.  I guess I’m lucky that all we get is the occasional deer, gopher, ant, scale and cucumber beetle.

The Lions scream on the hills

Originally written in April 2006

  The Lion, the witch, and the wardrobe is a marvelous book series for children. Written by C.S. Lewis it shows the majesty of righteousness and has a Christian type character which I think all Christians would recognize.

   It has recently been released as a movie version which I think fully captured the books intent and meaning. I am well pleased with how Disney Pictures did the movie. The stunning computer work which created the full scope and ‘other worldliness’ of the books was so well done as to be mesmerizing.

   While watching the movie, and the beauty of the ‘King of Narnia’, the Messianic Lion Aslan, Vickie and I had to discuss our own Mountain Lion. He comes through our area on occasion, eating deer and goats, scaring people, and giving us all a good reason to walk about armed to the teeth.

   People sometimes report seeing a Mountain Lion here, but more often we just hear it screaming near the house. There have been times when I was in the orchard on the hillside, some ways from the house, and I hear it screaming near the house as I am walking home. It is unnerving to walk toward a scream like that, knowing you are walking toward something your entire being is screaming at you to walk away from. It is at times such as this that I will pick up a few stones to throw at it if I see it, to keep it from charging or stalking me. If I am still in the orchard I might pick up a pitchfork and ax from the shed and walk home with those in my hands. I feel like a peasant from a Frankenstein movie, marching on the castle toward the monster to do battle with archaic weapons.

   There was another time that I had to walk to the well in the dark and cycle the pump on. The lion was screaming outside near the house. So I went out with a shotgun and flashlight. As I was waiting for the pump to fill the tank I walked along the road so I was away from the brush. A neighbor came driving by, parked some ways from me with his lights on me, and hollered cautiously out the window “are you OK John?” It was a touching moment, and I could hear the worry in his voice evaporate when he heard me explain the reason I was standing along the road with a shotgun.

   But this all began with a talk of the Chronicles of Narnia, did it not? Well, Vickie and I had to remark during the showing of the Lion Aslan that our own Mountain Lion has been unheard by us for half a year now. Perhaps it is dead… and then the silence was deafening. You see we have a pond next to the house, it is full of frogs that chirrup all the night long on their orgy of excessive tadpole making. And when the frogs stop making noise it is like an alarm ringing because something is out there and scared them. Then, through the partially open window I heard it, the scream of the mountain lion, and it was close. We walked out onto the dark porch, proceeding cautiously, making sure the skunk was not out there. We stood on the dim porch, under the overhanging roof, deep in the shadows and listened to the close scream, then farther away we hard another scream, that was repeated twice. Then our own closer lion screamed again, and the other one repeated the scream twice. Over the next ten minutes we heard these two lions call to each other across the vastness of the open canyon. And our own lion which was behind our house, perhaps a few hundred yards and to the Northwest crossed the hillside behind us to the North, it then went along the spine of the hill to our East, and then followed that to the Southeast, and eventually the two screams became too faint to hear. In the span of ten minutes we’d heard this local cat cross two miles of densely wooded land without us ever hearing anything other than it’s screams.

   I know that having a local Mountain Lion is a luxury most Americans will never know, and I relish the thought that I live in this wild area, that so befits my own philosophy and nature. I wish this area to remain remote and wild like this, and I understand the feelings of the people who were born in this canyon and regret the opening up of the land that has happened in the last thirty years. The telephone was the first to come in during the seventies. Then people started coming into the canyon settling on their widely spaced houses, mostly out of sight of one another. And we encroach on the Lions territory, causing it havoc in its normal course of business. But the lions and the other animals seem to have come to terms with the new inhabitants of this canyon, we provide food of sorts to these animals with our imported meals-on-the-hoof. Many are the chicken coops that have been broken into by bears here, or tunneled into by foxes. Few goats remain; the rest have been eaten by the lions. Owls take the occasional cat. And mice are attracted to some barns where large amounts of feedstuffs accumulate and give them food, they are seized upon by rattlesnakes as a nice food source.

   Nature is full of bounty when there are not too many of any particular species, but the ‘balance of nature’ is not a balance at all. It is indeed a see-saw with the individual species rising and falling depending upon the vagaries of weather and disease. The fox population reached a saturation point here a few years ago, we had foxes coming up nightly to search for food near our house, and Whitey made sport of chasing them away from the house, while they in their cunning minds made sport of Whitey by running around bushes and coming up behind Whitey until he was the chased. The foxes got to a certain level, and then an epidemic of distemper caused their numbers to fall quickly. Now we do not see too many foxes. And now I have only a memory of standing at night in the canyon watching as the glowing eyes of foxes search left and right, criss crossing like soldiers on a search and destroy mission as they make their way toward me, not knowing I am standing there like a stature on a rock.

   Yes, the foxes are gone, and a few months ago with the lions gone for some time I heard a pack of coyotes yipping near the house. This was a sure sign to me the lion was gone, and while I have no fear of coyotes, I’d rather have that dangerous lion around ‘cause he kept the deer population down, and they eat my cactus. The coyotes will eat our cats. When you have lions around the coyotes stay away (they are pretty smart critters).

   Seasons come and go, the tides rise and fall, and populations and empires wax and wane. There is a time for everything, and we can only guess at and apply our learning to predict the future. Hope for the best, but prepare for the worse. As for me, I put a lot of trust in Mossburg, and Smith and Wesson.

It appears that the people with the most courage were the first to die here.
Maybe that is true everywhere
~Elena Filatova~

    Europe along with most of the rest of the world has seen a continuous succession of wars. Rarely is a generation allowed to go without some conflict between itself and some neighbors. When one studies history one can become quickly caught up in the futility of humankind; how our petty squabbles can degenerate into full-scale warfare and the killing of millions.

    And now I find a website with some really interesting first-hand amateur excavations along the sites of both ancient and more recent wars in the Ukraine. This is particularly fascinating to me since some of my own family fought in this area in the Second World War. The website is called The Serpents Wall due to the ancient town fortifications stretching for miles along the river.
    The author has a companion site called Gulag Tales in which she has stories she got from local inhabitants of the Soviet Prison System called the gulag (again, I had two uncles locked into that miasma, both of whom lived through the ordeal).
    And she also has another site; Chernobyl-Revisited, detailing her motorcycle rides through the Chernobyl area. She carries a Geiger counter and has information on the effects of radiation. It is a striking montage of photos of a place she calls ‘The Land of the Wolves’ as nature is now reclaiming this area from the humans who had to leave after the nuclear disaster of 1986.

All Along the Watchtower
Jimmy Hendrix

The Mountain Lion

…while outside in the cold distance,
a wild cat did growl,
two riders were aproachin’
and the wind began to howl…

Bob Dylan, ‘All Along the Watchtower’

   We had known that there were always Mountain Lions here, but they always run from people, don’t they?  I have been near two wild lions that I know of, and doubtless many more. I have walked these roads and hills at all times of the day and night, but always felt confidant that I would be returning home. I often thought of the animals that sat along the trails in the brush, waiting for me to pass so that they may again return to their animal ways in the absence of the human presence. I never had a great deal of fear of animals, the Coyote, the Badger, the Bobcat, the Bear would all retreat to the path sides when I was getting near, and the Lions would retreat before I would ever realize I was near them for the most part.
   My instincts told me that the animals would be reluctant to be in human company unless they had become acclimated through constant contact and being provided, intentionally or not with food.
   I was the TOP of the food chain, the epitome of the top species in the area. The one that all other animals avoid out of instinctive fear.
   How arrogant of me to think that all the animal kingdom was afraid of me, because it turns out, not all do all the time.
 

   Neighbors had been seeing a large lion around here for the last year on a near constant basis. In this area of few houses for a multi-mile stretch of canyon with a high deer population, shade, shelter, and remoteness one would expect a couple lions to be in the area. But this animal has been suspected of taking livestock, namely goats. But due to the size of the animal it could be said that the animal is deriving the very highest amount of food from the native fauna and not man’s domesticated animals.

   A couple nights ago on 2/22/99 our son Jimmie came home at about 8 PM and saw a very large mountain lion in the driveway sitting near our parked trucks, maybe 15 feet from the house. It was staring at the wood pile, where presumably our cats were hiding. It ran away when Jimmies’ car got within 20 feet. Across the driveway and into the oak canyon it went.

   I felt sad for myself that I had not been able to see this cat myself. But I had something much, much better coming to me.

   The next night, while in the driveway at dusk working on something on the back of the truck I heard the bushes on the side of the driveway rustling, the side the cat had disappeared into the night before. The sound sent a tiny bit of apprehension through my body. But, hey, I’ve always known there were lions around me, and as long as they are not cornered they are ok. As long as you are not near their cubs they are ok. I mean, they run away from you, don’t they?
   It was at that time that I saw my neighbor across the hill traveling through the hillside brush, flashlight in hand. Hollering to each other and straining to hear we greet each other. He is on the hillside looking for his lost goat he explains. Now he has only one left, I recall last summer him having a half dozen grazing on the hillside. “I had one that disappeared last month” I hollered to him. And told him of the cat that Jimmie had seen the night before. We laughed about my apprehension from the brush rustling, and went about our business.
  The next evening, after work, Vickie my wife told me that our last goat Angie had not come over to the feeding area. She is fenced into a half acre to graze that small piece intensively, she used to have a couple other goat helpers. So the area is well grazed with less brush than would have been found a year before. But you still cannot see to the end very well, it is nearly 200 feet to the back gate there. The area is fenced roughly triangular and narrows to a corner yet is 100 feet at the wide area.
   One cannot easily see the gate at the end from the gate we use to access it from the wide front. The goat could have been toward the back at any time, and been hard to see at some points due to the heavy branch and leaf structure of the live oak trees. So we did not worry till the next morning when she did not show up for her morning rations which she never missed.
   That afternoon Vickie went to look through the large tall  and heavy front gate to peer into the canyon area. On the way walking the fifty feet from the house to this gate she saw what she took to be a large brown dog running across the hillside behind our garden. It ran along the hillside and into the depths of the oak trees within the canyon.
   She told me of this when I came home, but I did not expect that this ‘dog’ might actually be a lion. I decided that the lion might have taken the goat, but that it would probably carry it a ways up the canyon farther from our house.  And I expected no problems with wild animals, after all, lions run from you, don’t they?
   Opening the large heavy well hung easy to swing front gate I entered the small side canyon our house is built beside, I ventured into the fairly clear ground of the canyon, covered with oak leaves, and small clumps of grasses and forbs cover the ground. There is also a light coating of duff, small branches and twigs that litter the ground under and between these trees.
   It was not quite dusk, being 5:30 PM at a time of year when it gets dark at 6:30. I walked underneath the thick canopy of the Live Oaks, many of these trees so large one could barely wrap ones arms around them, they grow fairly thickly. But there is a good tree-ground clearance due to the goats reaching as high as they can, and some selective pruning I have done, to increase the leaf ground clearance so the grass burning will not likely cause the oaks to flare up. Once inside the canopy one can see 50 feet or more quite easily, and I scanned the ground for signs of the goat, I inspected the barbed wire topping the field fencing around for signs of the wool of this goat. But I saw nothing. Due to the rocky soil footprints are not easily retained and I saw no sign of anything other than the narrow trail I was walking on, part of an old game trail, and trod by the goats.
   On and on I walked, the area narrowing as I approach the triangular area at the end where our last gate is. One last tree to pass, one of the largest in this side canyon. Under it’s massive branches I passed on my way to the gate at the end. The usually closed gate was open, I have a piece of chain I merely wrap around the post, the goats had never pushed against the gate hard enough to open it. I went through the open gate to get to the next forty feet farther. Due to the practice of building two sets of fences between properties, there was at this area due to the rough terrain a large area between the fences, an area into which livestock sometimes escaped and were contained until they were herded back home and the fence repaired.  I crossed the fifty foot area, skirting the small bushes that grew in this area which got no regular grazing. Looking across the next gate I noticed nothing to give an indication of the lost goat.
   Then my attention was taken by the sound of a tightly stretched fence with something running into it. Looking back I saw a very large mountain lion running into the fence by the oak tree I had passed under before getting to my own open gate. The cat was trying to run from me, like lions always do, and this animal was so spooked that she has forgotten about the fence.
   I was amused by this aspect of animal nobility gone haywire, and laughed aloud. I wasn’t afraid of this cat, once it saw the open gate it would pass through it, toward me till past the gate, and then most certainly up the hillside it had just been running toward.
   So I called to the animal in a reassuring tone, telling it I was retreating up the hillside to allow it to pass through the gate and away, so I could then get through the fenced area it was trapped in.
   The animal looked at me, calmed down and started indeed walking toward the gate as I retreated some up the opposite side of the canyon than it had been trying to get to. The animal was out the gate, and then came walking toward me, I waved my arms and hollered “hey! You’re going the wrong way”. The animal then instead of turning and running away crouched down about 45 feet from me, low to the ground, her baleful eyes glaring at me, she advanced step by careful step, her belly to the ground, her muscles bunched and like springs under the sleek hide,
    All of a sudden it occurred to me that this cat was coming after me! I had not thought that this would happen to me! I am 6′4″ and weigh 230 lbs. Lions would not want to take on a person like me, especially now that I know she is here. She should be leaving, running away instead of coming after me.
Step by step she advanced toward me, her neck strung along the ground, her chin just inches from the oak leaf strewn dun colored ground. She did not slow down as I spread my arms wide to appear larger and hollered at her, she kept coming.
   I pulled the knife I carry always, a small 3.5 inch BUCK 102, I spread my arms again and hollered at the cat, still it came, slowly, calculating, sizing me up.
   I took a half dozen steps up the hillside but the deep leaf litter makes one slip down the hill some, I was getting into deeper brush here, and did not want this cat being able to get twenty feet from me and not be able to see  her. I decided she was a bit away from the gate  having come some twenty feet from the gate to come after me. I retreated straight down the hillside she had been coming toward me up diagonally. I went straight down keeping the widest part of my body toward her, thinking my strategy if she sprang at me. I assumed she would get within twenty feet or so and then make a low hard fast rush at me, coming up to get my upper half in those claws and my neck in her jaws. My instinct would be to put up my left arm and let her take it as I tried to get my right arm behind her claws sinking the knife hopefully at least once into the cats chest. I figured that the knife would be wrenched from my hand as the animal either pressed to me and bit me to pieces, or when she would try to get away having been injured. At the very best I figured to come out of it with a half torn-off arm, and hundreds of stitches if I got through it alive if she did charge.
   So it was important to me to not do any of the things that would cause her to charge me. Strangely enough my mind raced through all of the scenarios, the brain cells were opening all the files that dealt with proper behavior in this kind of situation. ‘Don’t turn your back and run, you’ll be an attractive target. Don’t look the animal in the eye, that’s a challenge. Be mindful of your stature and body language, make yourself look as large as you can, pick up anything you can to make yourself appear larger. Open your jacket or shirt to appear wider to the animal. Let it know you’re aware of its presence. Don’t hunch over, appear as big and strong and healthy as you can. Project the image of the healthy one of the tribe, the predators usually take the weak and injured.
   I did not want to have to pull my arms in to unbutton my shirt, because I had the sense that this animal already knew many of my capabilities, and if I had my attention diverted it would take that as the moment to strike. I merely held my arms out and retreated straight down the hillside toward the  creek. This mainly kept us from getting much closer together because she halted when I started down, it seemed she was watchful of what I was doing and wanted to establish my next moves before she reacted. I got to the creek bottom and squatted down about 30 feet from her and picked up the only good sized piece of wood on the ground. But it was so large, it was about twelve feet long, and as thick as my thigh. Trying to pick up the heavy piece of oak, and still keeping my knife in hand I struggled to keep the heavy end higher than my body, I figured if the cat jumped toward me from it’s higher elevation it would be slowed a bit by the large log and my force pushing it into the cat. I had to walk toward the cat to get to the gate, the cat was part of the way up the bank, and  twenty feet from the gate, , When I passed it at one point there was no more than 16 feet between us. I made it to the gate, and walked through it. I shut it behind me, but did not wrap the chain around it. I continued walking away from the cat, and in not many steps was away from the gate and losing sight of it in the light brush between us. Then, it jumped the gate, and was on the same side as me, low to the ground and advancing towards me again.
   “This cat really wants to eat me!” I thought, part of me wanted to run of course, but the rational part of me kept me from running for it. Whenever I increased my walking speed a bit the cat got into a bit of a trot that seemed like the prelude to a full fledged rush and pounce. When I slowed down a bit the animal slowed down and started that low steady creep towards me again. When I went too slow the slow steady creep towards me came within twenty five feet or so, and the animal seemed to become ready to make a quick rush, it’s hindquarters would bunch up a bit, and the shoulders would tense as if in preparation for a quick couple jumps and a pounce.
   The whole time the animal did seem to be sizing me up. It appeared to be regarding me in the same way it might a buck deer in full antlered splendor. It seemed to realize that I had some protection system, like the buck deer does, yet it seemed to know that it could take me down with little risk of injury if it got me unaware. All it needed to do was to follow me for a time and I would likely trip over a log or stone. Or I would weary of the backwards walk and turn away for a second. The odds were in the favor of the cat as long as I stayed within the forested area where it felt most at ease.
   The gate was getting nearer, I had been taking quick looks behind to study the path and avoid obstacles. I saw the seven foot tall gate looming nearer, the cat was maintaining her same overall distance of 30 to 35 feet. When I was twenty feet from the gate, near the end of the oak trees I started a sprint to the gate, getting to it I shut it behind me and latched it.
   Looking behind I saw the lion, standing straight legged to see over the forest debris, looking at me behind the gate, I think she had stopped when I took off running into the clear area.
   I ran into the house and my wife told me afterwards that my lips were white.
   It was a very fun experience to have had now that it is all done. Although at the time I figured that this animal was really devoted to the idea of eating me, and saw no difference between me and the common deer around here.
   I was food, this lion saw me as common prey, something that might have some defensive mechanisms, but you must merely take it while it’s defenses are down.
   This was a new experience for me, it was exciting while it lasted, I was thinking at the time it was happening how rare an occurrence this is, how many people now days have such a thing happen to them? Not many I would think. Yet I knew the odds seemed to be 50/50 that the animal would attack, it seemed committed to the attack if the proper circumstances (for it) presented themselves. Therefor much of my actions might impact on the reactions of the animal.
   I was very lucky that I was not jumped by the cat while walking below it while it was in the oak tree, looking upon the ground for the goat remains I did not notice the cat in the tree, and doubtless walked within a close distance from it.
   The next day about the same time after work I went to the gate and even made noise and did some calling in a loud voice to warn the cat I was there. I walked toward the gate and there was the cat, she had been drinking from the pool that gathers from a spring in the canyon and makes it such an attractive spot for wildlife. This time she was running from me as I approached from the open area, and peering into the darkness of the oak canopy I saw her stop 50 feet in, and standing sidelong to me she looked at me and then leisurely walked into the depths of the forest.
   As I said, it was an unforgettable experience, and one I shall always treasure.

UPDATE: Dec 2003

  The last article was written a few years before this one. In that time we have heard the lion screaming in the trees behind our house and in the hills near us. It comes occasionally and we can hear it in the evenings and the mornings for about three weeks until it goes off on it’s circuit again to visit other areas in it’s territory. These Pumas have a large territory that can encompass some one hundred square miles. They will make their rounds in this large area. Going from canyon to canyon, sitting in the trees or on the cliffs over water holes and creeks where they know that deer are likely to come by to eat and drink. When they have made a kill they tend to spend a few days eating it, and then they may go on to another creek in their territory to wait for their next victim.

  This lion comes by and spends a few weeks here killing a few deer, and then it goes on to it’s next area on its large circuit. Some of our neighbors have seen it on their back porch, or screaming at their horses from outside their stables. It is here and it is healthy. There is a lot of controversy in the neighborhood regarding this cat. Some want it killed outright, others don’t mind it so much, but have a bit of unease knowing it is here. I am among the latter, I know there are lions here, and I don’t mind that so much, I just wish the darn thing weren’t so dangerous. But I tell ya’, it does keep me on my toes when I go walking outside our house, I scan the trees when I am walking into them, I keep an eye on the cliffs as I walk near them, and when I go into the canyon behind our house where that cat stalked me, and where it killed the deer shown in these photos.

The photos above were taken minutes after the lion killed the fawn shown. I just happened to come by after it happened. There were scuff marks nearby showing where the lion had done a short chase after the animal, perhaps fifteen feet. The area where it killed the deer was littered with scraps of hair from the deer, including a large sheet of skin that was torn from the animals flank during the tussle. After killing the fawn the lion dragged it some ten feet away so it could dine in a less dirty area.

This is the third day after the lion killed the deer. It is pretty much totally eaten now, the lion stripped all the flesh off the ribs including eating the ribs tips. The flesh along the spine has been taken off very efficiently. The local dogs discovered the deer today, and one of the legs wound up on the neighbors doorstep a few hundred yards away. The vultures also have found it, and they are working on taking the last of the meat off of it. The lion will not be coming back to eat this anymore. This fawn gave the lion some three days of eating, and I’d imagine there was some thirty pounds of meat that the lion got from this small fawn.

This is the deer on the sixth day after its untimely demise. The deer has been stripped to the bone totally by the yellowjacket wasps and the vultures. In less than a week there is virtually nothing but bones left. This shows the utility of nature. The animals all get their work done efficiently, taking all organisms to their base level. In time the bones will work their way into the soil, the phosphorus and calcium in them will become part of the soil, just as the deer itself will be dispersed over a large area as the animals that ate some of the deer scatter their scat. This is part of the way that nature spreads everything around, giving a little to all, and very few areas have more than they can use. Any area in nature that has much will see some of that go away to other areas that are not as fortunate.

Lew’s Mountain Lion Info Page

Mountain Lion Attacks On People in the U.S. and Canada

Living with Lions, a personal site with a sensitive yet practical side

A news-like listing of wild animal attacks through the world. Updated often!

How to Avoid or Survive an Encounter with a Mountain Lion

Man saved by his wife when attacked by a California Mountain Lion in Jan 2007

  A shrunken head museum online. It is sad, thinking that each one of these heads was once a person, killed for a trophy. I read a most interesting book written in 1912 called The Sea and the Jungle. It was a true story about an expedition up the Amazon in a steamship, further upriver than any other such ship had progressed before.  At one point in the story the local shopkeeper heard of a gold strike in the jungle, he left and was never heard from again. Some months later a native came through with some shrunken heads he had purchased from inland tribes. And one of them was the European shopkeeper. His friends bought the head to remember him. Who knows where it is now.

Originally Posted April 1, 2005

  Painted Ladies, the small butterflies that resemble the large monarchs have made a huge pilgrimage to the Central Coast the last couple days. Huge volleys of them roam the countryside, I see thousands crossing the highways before me. On my travels along the coast I have had my windshield splattered with yellow spots from their fragile bodies as I drive heedless and full of wonder through these little colorful denizens of the fields and vales.

   They make their yearly pilgrimage from Old Mexico to the hills of the American West at this time. And this year with the huge amount of rain and the recent warm weather their numbers that have survived the trek this far are beyond any I recall ever seeing.

   At this moment the world waits as a Pope lies dying in a dark room in the Vatican. This Pope, a deeply committed man, the idol of my deceased grandmother is soon to pass from this world. He will come into the arms of a loving Creator and will sit at the feast tables of the New Jerusalem. My thoughts and prayers go out to him, and to all who regard him with the high level of respect he has accrued throughout his papacy. He is a refined man, yet a common man, one of the men of the earth. Born into a common family in Poland, he worked with his hands as a young man, and never lost his touch and connection with the common man. On the wall in my grandmothers room to this day is a photo of the Pope. A photo of a strong man, firm of face and rugged in body and spirit. His connection to the peasants of Eastern Europe is perhaps what drew my grandmother to him. She was also of common peasant people of Eastern Europe, and the Nazi and Communist invasion of her homeland was the same as what the Pope encountered. Yet from both families, triumph from the ashes and smoking ruins of a devastated Europe was the end result. True, none of our family made it to the height of power and influence of the Pope, but when you come from starvation and nothing, to get to the point of even a warm house and plentiful food is a high achievement.

   And now, with butterflies stuck in my grill, and the sad news on the radio, I travel these lonely roads; alone, but not lonely. I am surrounded by the awesome beauty of these coastal hills, the verdant green, rolling on in wave after wave of velvet-lining over geologic formations squeezed and folded by seismic forces. The Pope came as a seismic force into our lives through Poland from God, and the butterflies come with the soft flutter of wings through Mexico from God. And my tires roll on, through the day, a continual succession of miles eaten up by rubber as my life continues, and the butterflies and the Pope die.

   God bless them all.