Text to Self

In the course of reading, reading anything at all really,  we make connections between the text or reading material and ourselves. Unfortunately, not all of these connections are productive or positive.

This morning the LA Times carried a story I've followed about a man and his dogs. Out in the Antelope Valley two pit bulls attacked and killed a woman out for a walk in her neighborhood. The man had 4 pit bulls and knew they were dangerous but did not make sure they were fenced in.  In fact the dogs routinely roamed the neighborhood scaring the residents. The two dogs were euthanized, the owner faces criminal charges, and the other two dogs are being rehabbed for adoption.

I've kept track of this story only because I read the paper every day, not because I go looking for it. It's also a story that sticks in your head.  There are so many dogs out and about and so many owners who think their dogs don't require leashes that it's easy to identify with this story.

This morning I put on my pink and blue Nikes, my headphones, and my shades and headed out to walk the neighborhood exercising my arthritic knee. Upon leaving the house I noticed two large dogs roaming the street. I don't know what kind of dogs they were and I didn't recognize them. One had a collar. They looked like boxer/pit bull mixes but I don't really know. Since they were sort of hanging around one house I thought perhaps they belonged to the neighbors.

I continued to walk across the street and they started to show some interest in me and began moving toward me. Normally I'm not afraid of dogs, but am cautious about strange dogs. I'm not stupid. However, with the article about the murderous pit bulls fresh in my mind I turned around and headed back toward my house. Honestly I thought about going on, about how ridiculous I was being but I stepped back anyway. What a wuss!

In the not too distant past I purchased some pepper spray online to defend myself and my dogs against other aggressive dogs. I'd had a couple of close calls with unleashed dogs. But I stopped carrying it and had to do a quick search of my cupboard to find it. It was behind my recipe box, a green cylinder with a red spray button. I made sure I remembered how to use it and left the house again.

This time the dogs were closer to my house and one trotted over to follow me down the street. He gave up after a few yards and turned around to find his friend. I walked swiftly down the street and around the corner and when I got back the dogs were gone. Probably back in their yard.

Did I feel foolish? Kind of.  As far as I know no one around here has been mauled by a dog in at least 10 years. Like lots of horrific news stories I took that one and applied it to myself.  In that I'm not alone. Newspapers, TV news outlets, and other media would have us believe that the world is a very dangerous place. In fact our society is far safer today than ever before. We are not likely to be kidnapped, stabbed, shot, or mauled by dogs.

Every time we make a connection between ourselves and the horrors reported by the media we are incited to fear our fellow man - or dogs as the case may be. Caution is a good thing. Being alert to one's surroundings is also smart. But letting that caution morph into fear and affect our actions isn't so smart and it's pretty stressful too. Thinking of ourselves as prey will not make us safer just more anxious.

Birdless in Huntington Beach

Moving to Huntington Beach from Torrance some 20 years ago required some adjustments.  My yard in Torrance was filled with roses, camellias, and gardenias.  We had a vegetable garden that grew luscious tomatoes and crisp peppers. In other words, we had great soil. This house sits on soil contaminated by oil.  It's hard dense clay and no matter how many times you amend it that wet clay seeps up and takes over. So when we moved here our gardening days ended.

However, we were rewarded by a backyard full of songbirds. The carrotwood trees we planted along with the ficus tree provided food and shelter for an abundance of birds. Redwing blackbirds and tricolor blackbirds were regular visitors to both the trees and our bird feeder. We also had the requisite sparrows building nests under the eaves of our patio. Once or twice we had a large gorgeous yellow headed blackbird on the back wall. Small hawks came to hunt sparrows who hid out in the ficus tree until the hawks got bored. Cormorants occasionally roosted, wings spread, in the trees as well.

After a few years all of the blackbirds were driven out by European starlings an aggressive non-native bird from...you guessed it Europe! The reedy banks of the lake in Central Park a block away which were home to the blackbirds were also taken over by the starlings. The starlings did come every year to eat the red seeds of the carrotwood trees which pop out of hard shells in the spring. They did such a good job that we never had seeds on the ground only the hard shells.

This year, for the first time in 20 years, we have no birds at all in our trees. The carrotwood trees dropped their seeds and shells in abundance only to be swept up and put in the trash. A trip to the park reveals a modest population of great-tailed grackles, a new addition to our area, but no starlings or blackbirds. There are mallards, Canada geese, and cormorants living there. Occasionally a mallard couple will try to take over our pool or a hummingbird will zip by but that's it for backyard birds.

I haven't consulted the Audubon Society to discover the reasons for changing bird populations but I can't help but think that the absence of native birds in my own backyard is a subtle but notable sign of environmental damage. It feels empty and silent in my yard now even with the cars passing by behind the wall. The birds connected me to the natural world while living in world of concrete and slump stone.

Life's just not the same without birds in the yard.