Owls and Greece

The screech owl is back outside the bedroom window tonight.  A very, very soothing sound.  And I got a note from a friend suggesting that I might want to move to Greece.  I presume he read my recent post critical of David Brooks‘s recent commentary on the economy.

I am not really interested in going to Greece.  I think I would choose France first.  And while I know that owls have an important place in Greek mythology, especially as they are associated with the goddess Athena, I am not sure I would find a place that has a screech owl perched outside my window at night.

So let me make my post about David Brooks clear.  I am critical of arguments that don’t fit our contemporary economic system.  We exist in a global economy now more than ever.  It is an economic system which is more interconnected and interdependent than ever before, too.

Commentators like Brooks — and conservative thinkers generally — act as if old ideas will fit the new world.  This is an interesting position to take, by the way, when you take a moment to assess how well conservative economic policies have helped strengthen our global economic position.

Instead I argue that we — through our government — should invest in our future.  That’s what government does.  It lets us work collectively for a better society, a better future.  And here in the United States it has pretty much been that way for the get go.  We had the first Gilded Age about 100 years ago that didn’t do much for American society generally, but we got through that and got better.  Now we are entering a second Gilded Age of inequality and lost opportunity.  It is time to correct that.

I would argue, for example, that a healthy and well-educated citizenry is a valuable public good.  Having financial security and education to compete in the new economy will be essential if we are going to compete.  If we are going to remain competitive in our traditional economic positions, the American worker will have to settle for standard of living that is not consistent with expectations in this country.  Perhaps that’s what we want.  Lower standards of living, more inequality, and less opportunity.

But I think most Americans want to see middle class standards of living, more equality, and more opportunity.  So we can’t look at guys like Mitt Romney who cannibalize struggling industry, put fragments of it on life support, and outsource the majority overseas as exemplars of good economic practice.  That kind of “job creator” we can do without.

Instead we should be defending education, rebuilding our infrastructure, and planning smartly for a more efficient and competitive future.  We need new ideas, not badly rehashed ideas that have proven less than adequate in the first place.

The private sector is not doing this.  It is investing in countries that have lower costs and less regulation.  There…I said it.  but we don’t want to be those countries, do we?  Look at the social, political, and environmental costs that people in countries like China must bear.  Certainly they have a growing middle class, but I would argue that Americans — at least currently — still enjoy more freedom, wealth, and opportunity.

When the private sector cannot provide for the greater common good, government has a role to play.  We can all pitch in and reinvest in the tools and systems we need to be better, stronger, and more competitive in the future.  I can stay here in the United States with American owls outside my window.

That is my point.

A Walk Away From the Order of Things

A deer hiding behind branches is eating grass

Image via Wikipedia

Darkness sets in early now and this is especially so in the cover of thick woods.  At almost the moment I stepped into the woods I saw a deer quietly pulling at some remaining green leaves on the path’s edge.  She looked up and stared, only 20 yards apart.  The deer waited motionless — frozen but seemingly unconcerned – and so I took a couple steps toward the animal.

I expected the deer to move quickly off the path, but instead she resumed eating.  I got a few feet closer and she looked up again, her ears pricked up high and straight.  This time she appeared more alert, with her neck taught and chin firmly pushing upward; she seemed to almost be standing on toe-tips, ready to to spring away.  Instead the deer took a half hop into the woods and was gone.

I kept walking slowly, trying to be quiet and casual.  I’m certain I must have seen this same deer many times.  I looked around for some of the others but found none of them.  When I reached the point where the deer had been feeding I looked into the woods and she was there, maybe 20 feet away.  She didn’t seem alarmed at all.  In fact she turned her gaze away from me to rub an itch on her flank, then slowly looked up again at me.

I thought of taking a step toward the wood, but didn’t really see the point.  I realized I would have been disappointed if the deer let me get any closer.  I’m worried enough as it is.  She seems too tame.  And as I am fretting about this the deer took a half step toward me, stretching her head in my direction.

I had ever been so close to a deer before and so I don’t know what deer do, but she seemed to be lifting and lowing her lip; I presume taking in my scent.  She didn’t seem at all stressed otherwise and so I worried more.

I know I am not the only person this deer sees.  We are in a city, after all, and even if the places she haunts are less known, certainly other people share my path often enough to see the deer.  It likely is a daily experience for her.  But I feel responsible…or responsibility, perhaps.  And so I worry.

This poor deer has grown so accustomed to people that she lingers easily when people are near.  What will happen when someone decides the city needs to cull the deer?

In a way I feel like my friendship with the deer in this park is a betrayal.  I give them no reason to fear me and I never spend more than a minute watching them.  By stopping, looking, and moving on I sense that I am telling them I am not a threat.  But I am a threat.  Not me specifically, but people like me.  And maybe my actions train the deer to misjudge people.  They don’t see us as a threat.  They don’t hide when they sense us approaching.  I don’t like to think about it.

(It was dark and getting darker fast.  That’s for sure.)

So I continued my walk.  The cemetery looked especially nice tonight.  My camera phone doesn’t handle low light very well.  But I did get a decent picture of the changing maples.  Cemeteries looks rather nice in the fall season.  I wonder if there’s something archetypical about that.

I’ve mentioned before that I find it ironic on these evening walks through the woods that the cemetery shines brightest, like a refuge of some sort.

Is this another of my silly posts?

No raccoons tonight, but I did stop and hope one would appear.  You have to stop in the woods.  Stop, stand still, and listen.  Tonight was a breezy and sounds were hard to pick up.  Nevertheless when you let your ears survey what is happening around you, you do pick up a lot.  Tonight I wasn’t disappointed.

I heard an owl calling from high up in one of the very tall, very old cottownwoods.  It was a great horned owl, I think…well, I’m pretty certain.  It called out on an interval spaced by a minute or two.

A tip for finding an owl — they are not easy to spot, especially in the dark — is to use a kind of triangulation.  Listen and get a general bearing.  Then move a short distance keeping your eyes fixed on a point in the direction from where you heard the owl.  Stop and wait.  Hear again and look again, adjusting your reference point.  Naturally your perceptions will start to home in on the owl.  At first I thought tonight’s owl was near the cemetery fence, but it turned out to be nearly on top of me!

Finding owls when you hear one in the woods can be a difficult task because their call is so throaty, soft, and muffled.  I gave up on actually seeing my owl tonight.  It was getting spooky dark.

In fact through the brush I saw moving figures heading toward another corner of the woods.  Druids, I suspect.  So I figured my time to linger had likely run out.  The night shift has things to do and who am I to get in the way.

I still worry about those deer though…

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