Friday, 24 April 2015

Higher Intelligence

Biking down the trail in the white light of the sun. It’s hotter than I ever remember an April in the mountains to be. And though I live in a temperate rainforest where moisture loving cedars and hemlocks grow from soil covered in mosses, today the air feels as dry as it is in sagebrush country. This year, the snow left early. Its meltwaters feed our creeks. This has many of us thinking about drought which leads to thoughts of California. Wondering what it would be like to run out of water as I peddle toward the beaver ponds near the river. 

All around me, the valley is greening. The smell of cottonwood resin mixes with the dank aroma of skunk cabbage. I take note of a patch of nettles that I’ll pick from on the way back, and a nice assemblage of dandelion buds (nettles = wild superfood; dandelion is a tasty master detoxicant). Above the marshland I see a harrier cruising. My eyes can only keep up with it for a few seconds–just long enough to really feel the hawk’s presence–the way its talons have formed in relationship to its vision; how its body is shaped in accordance to the environment it thrives in, and that after being on this planet for a few thousand years, it continues to live in bloody harmony with its surroundings, adapting to the changes survival requires. As I watch this member of the Accipitridae fly in the scorching heat of the afternoon, I wonder if we're entering a new paradigm. I mean this in the most grounded, practical sense

The world is no longer as it was. Climate change is changing everything now. 

The result of industrial civilization is obvious and undeniable–melting ice sheets, thawing permafrost, massive drought in some places, torrential rains and flooding in others, sea levels rising. Yet, as this global ecological shift occurs before our eyes, dramatically altering the landscape and our existence, most of humanity behaves like Easter Islanders, stuck in a way of being that simply wont be sustainable in the new world that’s taking shape. We could probably survive in it; we might even be able to thrive in it, but we’d have to behave like an intelligent animal–one that is highly responsive to the changes that are occurring, and we'd have to be willing to adapt to them. In this new paradigm, any system of governance unwilling to do so is not only obsolete, but it is on its way toward extinction. 

The hawk disappears beyond the far edge of the marsh almost as fast as it appeared, leaving me with the feeling that it possesses a higher intelligence that most of us are missing.

painting by: Stephanie Kellett