EARTHLY LOVE

WELL AHEAD OF EARTH DAY, NASA this week released this stunning high-definition image of Earth, taken from the newly launched Suomi satellite. What a glorious sight -- you can just feel the breezes wafting over the turquoise waters in the Gulf of Mexico shallows.

And the media are using the stunning images to bolster the case for the group who've been called "the deniers." A provocative op-ed in yesterday's Wall Street Journal, signed by 16 climate scientists, ran a related NASA photo  to assure us there's "no need to panic" about the dangers of CO2 in global warming.

In a follow-up online interview one of the signers, physicist William Happer of Princeton, argued that the UN's IPCC (Inter-Governmental Panel on Climate Change) computer models greatly exaggerate the predicted effects of CO2 on global warming, and we need to continue to monitor the situation for "decades" before the science can be definitively settled. The piece, by the way, spoke exclusively of CO2, and did not mention other environmental pollutants. 

What's an average citizen to believe? Empirically, the weather seems weird lately. Clearly the glaciers are receding all over the globe with startling speed: I have witnessed that personally. And I frequently read that only slightly warmer ocean temperatures can cause violent storms. The WSJ article did not mention this, but I have read elsewhere that the insurance industry is building that information into new models.

There are at least two scientists I plan to read. The first is a social scientist, Maxwell T. Boykoff, who argues in "Who Speaks for the Climate?" (November 2011) that the media's handling of climate change depends on how the issues are framed. The other is a climate scientist: Britain's Mike Hulme, author of  "Why We Disagree on Climate Change" (May, 2009).  Hulme says what we need is "dis-census," not consensus -- a multidimensional conversation about the physics of climate change, as well as responses to the humanitarian, ethical, and social issues that arise as we try to understand how to live on our planet.

OUT THE WINDOW

At long last snow -- not the sodden stuff that rearranged our Halloween last fall -- and turned off the power for four days -- but fluffy flakes that dance and swirl in gusts and trace tree limbs outside the glass.  One of my first acts on moving here some years ago was to remove a solid wooden side door that blocked the view, and install a pair of sliding glass doors that offer twelve feet of  view across the patio and ponds to the trees and birds and animal visitors in the woods and wetlands. It was an instant and wondrous transformation.  Perhaps the most important part of a house is how it frames the world outside -- what you see from your windows while you're snug and safe inside.

This week's New Yorker has a meditation by Donald Hall on window reverie. A living master poet of New England life, he still lives at Eagle Pond. It was once his grandparents' farm in Wilmot, New Hampshire, and I can picture it because of his own writing and that of his late wife, the poet Jane Kenyon. The New Yorker piece includes a image by an artist named Kikuo that beautifully captures the melancholy of age and infirmity -- as well as the solace of home and the natural world.

Gazing out his window, Hall observes, "After a life of loving the old, by natural law I turned old myself. " No longer a writer of poems, he is still a master of the essay, and his recall of earlier generations, of his own life and wife, of their illnesses (who could believe that he would survive cancer, while his wife, some 21 years younger, would not be cured?), of his loss and inevitable decline, of his view from 83-year-old eyes, is moving indeed. His watching and his reverie feel companionable on the page, and I am grateful for his words. 

Once, on a vacation in Ireland, I was struck by the view from the window in our room, and started a series of photographs of the view from each room we stopped in.  It became a habit, whenever I traveled, to record and later to recall these window views. It's exhilarating to wander out of doors, but it's also rewarding to sit quietly and observe the passing scene.

I watch the snow descend from trees in sparkling sheets. I watch the Carolina wrens pull peanuts from a feeder that hangs from an eave, then retreat as a sharp-billed downy woodpecker moves in.  At the sunflower feeder, which hangs on a wire that runs from house to maple tree down by the pond, there are chickadees and titmice and finches. The finches are dull brown now, but gradually in the spring their golden transformation begins -- is it coaxed out by the sun? More likely the golden feathers (on the males, mostly) are designed to make them more attractive mating candidates.  On the ground small armies of juncos glean and quarrel over spilled seed, then scatter as a large gray squirrel takes over.  Outside the window, the pecking order constantly repeats -- the bigger bodies and the sharper beaks prevail. The timid move aside -- sometimes meekly, often with a gesture of protest.

I mark the seasons with the breeds and colors of birds.  Like all bird lovers, I have made a pact with them -- I keep their feeders filled, and they reward me with their visits. The most miraculous are the pair of Carolinas who nest beneath the bridge that crosses the stream between the two ponds. Their plump bodies, their rich rusty feathers and their marvelous caramel breasts are delightful;  their purring trills are  Baroque arias that soothe me as I work. They are normally a southern bird, which may be why they hug the house in cold weather. 


All the birds are welcome companions. It is a pleasure to work so near the natural world. I tend to lose myself in my writing, and they help me keep in touch. When large numbers arrive, I look up and check the clock to learn it's time for lunch.

It will snow again tomorrow, the weather forecasters say. For lucky us, it's on the weekend (but how the schoolchildren will complain they have no "snowday"!)

MOVING INTO 2012

THE YEAR IS OFF to a good start -- enjoying warmer than normal weather, discovering some wonderful reading to hunker down with, and finding challenging and satisfying work. But reading is sedentary business, and so is computer work. So I felt it was time to get up and move.

I don't trust New Year's resolutions (they never last), but my body has been feeling stiff and achy lately. During a recent visit to the doctor, I worried that  one shoulder seems to be freezing up, and noticed that lately it's hard to get dishes down from the cupboard. So I asked for some safe shoulder exercises. He quickly printed half a dozen out on his computer.  In gratitude, I've been doing them daily and feeling better.

But that was a bit of a wakeup call.  Jane Fonda -- the longtime exercise guru -- advocates for regular exercise in her newest book, Prime Time. Although, she says, exercise is important at any age, after a certain age exercise is NOT optional! The doctor's heart was in the right place: "Use it or lose it," he offered.

I am not alone.  Dominique Browning, author of the book and blog Slow Love Life (both excellent) wrote a post this week about her need to return to yoga. One of the great things about Dominique's blog is her large following, and one of her followers, Barbara, wrote enthusiastically about NIA, and included a link to nianow.com. Sounded great, and I found a link to a catalog from our local rec department.  Again, it sounded doable -- it was advertised for "all levels of ability" -- so I thought it might work. I tried calling the rec department, but "accidentally" called the number of the trainer, Joan, who's a certified muscle therapist.  She was very welcoming, non-judging. As with the shoulder exercises, I felt she offered something that would help, not do me in. So I signed up.

The first class met the next day. At Joan's suggestion, I arrived early, and she showed me a couple of basic steps -- a"cha cha cha" move that lets you shift your weight from one leg to another, and a"jazz square" sequence that's a basic routine to move you, dancing, from place to place.

Like the instructor, the class was warm and welcoming.  A real community, where everyone wants to win, with very little competition (None of the "I exercise better than you do" or "I look better in my exercise clothes than you do.") The session was tiring but satisfying. It covered both physical exercise and mental agility -- we were encouraged to face our frustrations, ugh/shrug them off; then we were asked to cross our arms in front of our face and loudly say "Cancel" to our frustrations, and finally spread our arms out to the sides and calmly say, "Clear"  to open up to the new. And so we shook off the grievances of the past, and moved into the new year.  I can see you might think it all a bit hokey, but it was really a lot of fun, in good company. And I'm only a little stiff today.

You can see a NIA class with co-founder Debbie Rosas, and a lot of West Coast folks -- all of whom weigh less and are uniformly younger than the people in my class (also, those in the photo are in full NIA costume, unlike the more varied group I worked out with) -- at this link. (Follow the link, because the video doesn't play from my blog.)

After the exhilarating first class, I searched for NIA on Wikipedia and found that it's a blend of 9 separate muscle, movement, and mind-body disciplines, and that NIA stands either for Non-Impact Aerobics or Neuromuscular Integrative Action, whatever that is. NIA is much catchier -- like those Monty Python people who say "Ni."


Here are the nine:


Martial Arts: t'ai chi, Tae Kwon Do, Aikido 
Dance Arts: Modern dance, Duncan Dance,  Jazz dance
Healing Arts: Alexander Technique, Feldenkrais method, Yoga


These are activities I can healthily and enthusiastically subscribe to.


I look forward to stepping smartly into this new year.