My prior post appeared on both the WUWT and Icecap websites, which was wonderful, and filled me with gratitude towards Joseph D’Aleo and Anthony Watts,
It has been my fate to write my entire life because I wanted to, and without any support. No can accuse me of being “in it for the money,” because I haven’t made any. I am not beholden to any editor, in the way Norman Rockwell was beholden to the Saturday Evening Post, and this makes me very free. However it also makes the pleasure of being “published ” especially sweet.
However I couldn’t sit back and enjoy the sweetness. In fact the sweetness was a bit of a distraction, during a blustery day with a nasty chill in the air. We had to go backwards to spending time dressing the kids in winter clothes, at the Childcare on our farm, as I also had to bury all my tender seedlings in hay, to shelter them from a looming, very-late frost.
Weather has a way of interrupting poets and poetry.
I itched to slump at my computer, and see what people had to say about my prior post, but the complete failure of Global Warming to warm New Hampshire kept me busy with stuff I’d not need to do, if it was warm.
By the time I could study the comments at WUWT (Icecap has no comments,) the initial flurry of comments was over, and I’d lost my chance to enter the fray and perhaps influence and direct the discussion. However I did post the following comment, at the end of a long day:
“OK. 9:30 and I can finally unwind and see what sort of uproar I have caused. I can’t stay up too late, however, because I’ve got to be up early to fight frost on the morning of May 14. (Global Warming….HA!)
First, a few have commented they don’t give a flying whoop if the cranes live or die. That is perfectly fine with me. I’m not one of the bird-lovers who wants to tax others to save my personal preferences. The fact of the matter is that it was relatively few people who brought the whooping crane back from a low point of between 21-24 birds. (Accounts vary.)
These people made a huge effort, and spent a great deal of time they were not paid for. It was a thing called “volunteering,” and, “a labor of love.” Some modern types might not understand such effort, because they see life in terms of looting, and know the guy who runs the United Way charity makes (or made) a quarter million a year, (which doesn’t seem all that charitable. In fact it seems like getting fat off the poor.) However that is not the way true charity works. You’re not suppose to say, “What’s in it for me?” You’re not suppose to go to college and get a PHD in generosity, and become filthy rich being generous.
Think of someone like Mother Theresa, spending half her time in the reek of the filthy slums of Calcutta, and half her time groveling for money so she could help the poor. She saw plenty of hell, and witnessed every reason there is to curse the wealthy, but she was too busy with her labor of love to waste time hating.
Some will say she cared about actual people, and not dumb birds. I have no idea if she was a bird-lover or not, so I’ll switch over to Saint Francis, who apparently did care for birds. However he was not one of these bird-lovers who detested humanity. His labor of love involved caring for both birds and humans.
This is just my long-winded way of saying some have it in their hearts to embark upon a labor of love. They don’t do it to gain notoriety, or to annoy others, or to become filthy rich. They do it simply because they care.
It was this sort of person who saved the whooping crane. They spent time in mosquito-filled, stinking swamps, and in the boring waiting rooms of congressmen, and groveling and wheedling in the offices of fat-cats, all because a majestic and beautiful bird was about to vanish from the face of the earth.
The whooping crane was once widespread on the gulf coast and up the Mississippi valley. True, it was never common, but the passenger pigeon was once so common it darkened the skies, yet was erased from earth. The whooping crane was a few score birds away from a similar fate, when a few bird lovers got to work.
Some of you don’t give a hoot about owls, or a whoop about cranes. Your labor of love lies elsewhere, and I wish you well with your endeavors. However those of us who do like the sight of a whooping crane or eagle in the sky are rather glad the old bird-lovers worked as hard as they did.
The thing of it is: They were not annoying and abrasive, which some young and modern environmentalists unfortunately tend to be. Doing what they did tended to make them poorer, not richer. (In terms their banker could understand, at least.) Lastly, they spent far more time working damn hard than they spent whining and griping.
Most importantly, those old-timers saved the whooping crane. How can modern environmentalists look themselves in the eye in a mirror, knowing their efforts may wipe the whooping cranes out?
Perhaps it will take the actual extinction of a species to snap people out of the trance they seem to be in. However maybe posts like this will wake people up more swiftly.
It is now 10:30 and I’ll have to wait until tomorrow to reply to some of the other comments my post, (which is actually more of a question,) has generated.
My question has not been answered to my satisfaction, so far. In fact all some of the “answers” do is generate a whole slew of follow-up questions. But that will have to wait until tomorrow.”