Messages For Our Times

Rainbow over Lake Wingra, Rick Neiss photo

Ann and I often say that we live in a great neighborhood (Dudgeon-Monroe) here on the near West side of Madison. Our apartment is on busy Monroe Street across the street from Lake Wingra and a section of the University of Wisconsin- Madison Arboretum.

Dudgeon-Monroe is walkable with many restaurants, two coffee shops, our bank, a drug store, library, and Trader Joe's. Trader Joe's is a destination for out-of-towners including my brother Lou and sister-in-law, Corine when they are visiting. Prospect Gardens is a twenty minute walk from our apartment and is an integral part of our neighborhood.

On recent walks to Neuhauser Pharmacy, caring for Madison since 1914 and my family since 1986, five things caught my attention.  I consider these as messages that say much about my neighborhood while helping me cope with our current times, marked with rapid change, polarization, and divineness.  I share the five for your reflection with one that includes comments on two recent Prospect Gardens work sessions.

This statement is near the door on the sidewalk of Colectivo Coffee Shop. Initially I thought it was a clever reference to the flower breaking through the crack of the sidewalk plus the need for courage during these challenging times. Then I noticed a second similar statement further down the sidewalk:  "It takes courage to see the light."  This peaked my curiosity. The QR code led me to the Milwaukee based Courageplus.org.  Their mission-like statement reads: 

We give LGBTQ+ youth a sense of community centered around care, safety, and acceptance – while bringing about real systemic change.

The following poem by Less Herrick calls for courage and love given other societal forces besides those directly impacting the LGBTQ+ community. The poem refers to the implementation of Federal Immigration policies in Minneapolis and the killings of Renee Good and Alex Pretti.  

Courage

I almost stopped believing in the ocean.
Imagine that. I almost stopped believing
in the music of such massive natural splendor.
I had lost sight of it, lost sight of hope
because innocent people were killed
by people in masks, hiding their faces,
their shame parading as providence,
their weakness posing as policy.
But then, I remembered the tides.
I was restored by the courage of poets
whose songs sounded like ocean waves
guided by the moon. Even now, there is music.
Children laughing on the swings, a student
learning the saxophone, a woman reading
her rough draft by the lake, a father whistling
a love song in his native language.
Courage is from the Latin word  cor,
which means heart, which means we are a heart of poets.
As in, take courage, take heart. As in, the widow
was grateful for your encouragement, your giving heart.
As in, the heart of your convictions.
What I mean is: we are made of love
and therefore larger than their terror.
As a great poet said, they can cut back all of the flowers,
but they cannot hold back spring.
We are a massive natural splendor, too.
In the end, all we are is love and love and love.
In the end, the ocean and the music might save us.
Meet me at the beach. Bring your light.
Bring your songs. I’ll wait for you.

Love as an antidote to the suffering of our times is suggested by this mural. It's on the outside of  the building housing Strictly Discs, known for its selections of vinyl records. The wish is attributed to John Prine (1946-2020), American singer-songwriter and guitarist who blended folk, blues, and country music. His music is often viewed as social commentary and protest. 

A few years ago I purchased from Strictly Discs several vinyl records for our daughter Emily, who has her own collection. I once had a collection.  

A reminder from one of my favorite poets, Mary Oliver, is on the back of a newly painted bench. Another bench and a small bench-like table with "All You Need is Love, Love" are in a shady area near the Harrison entrance to the Southwest Path. I often rest sitting on one of the benches.

"Pay attention" + "Be astonished" +  "Tell about it": wise affirmations for our lives and for our times.  

Across from Strictly Discuss on the window of  Monroe Street Framing is this beautiful painting that includes "Grow with the Flow."  There is a different painting for each season. 

Many neighbors have flower gardens in their front and back yards. Some have replaced their lawns with native plants as recommended by Homegrown National Park ((URL for more information). Rain Gardens are plentiful. Throughout Madison there are community vegetable gardens with individual plots such the eastside Atwood Gardens and the University Heights Gardens.

Madison has many public gardens. Some of my favorites are Olbrich Gardens, UW Botany Garden (off of University Avenue) and UW's Allen Centennial Gardens on Babcock Drive. When I worked on campus, I often had my packed lunch in Allen Gardens.  

Prospect Gardens continues to "grow with the flow." We are now beginning the seventeenth year. This year "growing with the flow" has meant restoration of some areas and replanting. 

On May 16th, Laura, Astrid, and Sheila joined me to finish removing weeds and installing native plants in the Regent side section. Here's Shelia and Astrid weeding and digging up a section. 

That was a long day for me starting about 9 am with buying the plants at the annual UW Arboretum plant sale. We ended at about five o'clock with Laura and I  fencing the planted areas. 

My plans to retire as crew chief are on hold. Unfortunately Becky can no longer be co-chair with Ryan, who manages the list server of volunteers. I am more involved with the Gardens than expected;  spending many hours besides scheduled work days. Meanwhile Ann, my wife, wishes to announce that she has "come out of retirement" from being a volunteer.  She was especially helpful while I pruned  two overgrown forsythias. She cut down the large branches for easy transport. Thank you, Ann 

Here's Laura weeding near the pottery bells mobile. The pottery mobile has been in the Gardens for several years; way before the Pandemic. I noticed a man carrying it while I was working at another Garden along the bike path. I commented on the mobile's uniqueness and he replied that it was for sale. I offered ten dollars which he accepted. 

Thank you Laura, Astrid and Sheila. Your generosity and helping hands are so appreciated. 

Rabbits are now a major challenge. Without fencing, as recently learned, new plants are the rabbits choice. Rabbits ate three of the six purple poppy mallows that I recently planted. I fenced the remaining three on a hot sticky day. 

Once again staff and enrollees of Operation Fresh Start helped tend the Gardens on June 3rd. Accompanying Conservation Supervisor Taylor were Avi and Makei. In the picture, next to Taylor (in the yellow T-shirt) is Avi and next to me is Makei.  Ann took the picture, provided the treats and helped with weeding.

Thank you, Ann, Taylor, Avi, and Makei.  You all worked diligently. 

We accomplished our goal of  removing blooming Bishops weed throughout the Gardens and which we never planted. A few days later Laura, in disbelief, shared an article favoring the plant while misidentifying variegated snow on the mountain for regular bishop's weed. Furthermore, according to the article, despite "vigorous growth and invasive tendencies" bishop’s weed is "useful in the right setting." I whole heartedly disagree-- its a tenacious plant that outcompetes other plants.  

Along Monroe Street are poems engraved in the sidewalks. This one gives passersby a brief history of Monroe Street by identifying what no longer exists. Four of the six  (Ken Kopp's grocery, Dardanelles, Edgefest , and Mallatt's)  disappeared since we moved into the neighborhood in 1986. I recall all. 

Ken Kopp's meat counter was a favorite. His grandson now has a small restaurant across the street from Camp Randall. When our daughter was a child, we enjoyed Edgefest on the Edgewood High School campus, with games, rides, and food carts. Such good memories.   

The poem reminds me that Prospect Gardens and our neighborhood is constantly changing and that impermanence is a reality of life. All phenomena and life itself are constantly changing. 

Faced with dizzying change exacerbated with the unfolding of artificial intelligence, messages like the five help keep me balanced and moving forward. Some commentators consider artificial intelligence as being the second industrial revolution, fundamentally altering our society and way of life. 

John O'Donohue's poem, "For Presence" provides  additional helpful messages as we experience these rapid societal changes.

For Presence  

Awaken to the mystery of being here 

and enter the quiet immensity of your own presence.    

Have joy and peace in the temple of your senses.

Receive encouragement when new frontiers beckon.       

Respond to the call of your gift and the courage to follow 

its path.

Let the flame of anger free you of all falsity.

May warmth of heart keep your presence aflame.

May anxiety never linger about you.

May your outer dignity mirror an inner dignity of

soul.

Take time to celebrate the quiet miracles that seek 

no attention.

Be consoled in the secret symmetry of your soul.

May you experience each day as a sacred gift woven 

around the heart of wonder.

I end with an update of the young cranes (colts) who are a sacred gift and that add wonder to my days. Here they are on the shore of Lake Wingra. It is June 3rd on a warm, gentle evening.

I'm amazed at how fast they grow. These two were hatched in early May. Feathers are appearing. The length of their legs and necks have significantly increased. They now look like miniature cranes.

  

Here's one on June 12th. The day before on my way home from Lake Wingra, I joined the family as they made their way from the park down Knickerbocker. They leisurely walked in front of me, a few feet away. We approached the intersection of busy Monroe. 

They seemed to wait for me to push the button that stops the traffic, which I did. Afterward, the family, walking in a straight line, with the colts in the middle between the parents, leisurely crossed busy Monroe. I and other passersby on the sidewalk looked in wonder as cars waited for the family to pass. The family was heading to a bird feeder in a backyard at the intersection of Knickerbocker and Gregory. They will feast on the seeds on the ground under the birdfeeder.  

Glory be and halleluiah!  

  

 

   

 

 

    

Renewal and Nourishment

Easter, Passover, and Ramadan with their elements of renewal and spiritual nourishment have past. May has arrived and Spring continues offering opportunities for feeling renewed and nourished. Spring is widely recognized as a time of transition from winter’s dormancy to new life, growth, and hope. 

Over the years volunteers and I have sown seeds in Prospect Gardens. This poem by Wendell Berry, farmer, philosopher, poet and conservationist, expresses how being mindful of sowing seeds generates feelings of renewal and nourishment.  

Sowing the seed,

my hand is one with the earth

Wanting the seed to grow,

my hands are one with the rain

Having cared for the plants,

my mind is one with the air

Hungry and thrusting

my mind is one with the earth

Eating the fruit,

my body is one with the earth. 

Feeling renewed and nourished by Spring can be challenging given the negativity surrounding us and notably politically related events. Yet once again, the Redbud trees within our neighborhood are at their peak including those located along a path in the UW Arboretum which I often take on my walks. Now I check on the Canadian goose sitting patiently on her nest on the west side of a small island in the middle of a storm water pond  across from Gates and Brovi. Nearby, the gander stoically sits, usually in the water or in the grass bordering the pond. He will become very involved in raising the goslings. Hopefully, I will see the goslings. The eggs will hatch any day.

 Further down the path and on the west side of the Spring Trail Pond (commonly referred to as the "Duck Pond")  a Sandhill Crane is nesting while her mate stands guard. He too will co-parent the colt. I observe them from a safe distance through my binoculars. The female hardly moves while blending into the dry reeds surrounding the nest. The male occasionally preens himself, bending his long neck to reach the back of his under-belly.   

The “Duck Pond” is also in the University of Wisconsin-Madison Arboretum and a short walk from our apartment. Large numbers of native mallard ducks inhabit the pond year ’round.  Water from a spring flows into the pond and makes it way into Lake Wingra just beyond the tree line. The water is warm enough year-round to remain unfrozen during our winters. Sometimes steam rises above the water as the ducks enjoy the warmth and call out to each other. 

The Duck Pond was dredged and created in the 1930s, with much of construction done by the Civilian Conservation Corps (CCC). The nearby stone walls, associated with the site, were also built by the CCC. I often during a walk pause and sit on these walls; resting while being nourished by the Spring sunshine and warm breezes.

Patches of delicate trout lilies are another indicator of  Spring's renewal.  Once again they break through the underlying layer of brown leaves and spread across the both sides of the path I walk on. Their return and beauty nourish my spirit.  

These reflections remind me of childhood Spring time on the farm where I was born on and reached young adulthood. A creek leading to a large size pond were easily seen from windows of our four square farm house.  As a result of Spring rain, the creek and pond often flooded and overflowed. I can still hear the pleasant sounding rushing water as I watched from our house porch, just off the kitchen. 

The rushing water and returning Red Winged Blackbirds near the pond contributed to a sense of peace. However, male birds were very protective when their mates were nesting. Our farm was at the dead end of a mile long gravel road which had a patch of swamp after you entered the road from Highway 29.  During nesting season when my siblings and I walked down the road, as we often did to get the mail from the mailbox at the other side of Highway 29, the males squawked and dived-bombed towards our heads. Walking fast and waving your hands above your head helped prevent actual head contact by the defending males.   

Polandi: Early 1950s, I'm 2nd on right side, first row  

A Spring ritual at our one room school house was to track signs of Spring and create a written record.  Among my entries, along with the Red Wind Black Birds, were Robins, Swallows, and Killdeer. Robins did not remain during winter as they now do here in the Madison area.

Robins were the first to return followed by the Red Wing Blackbirds. The Killdeer and the Barn Swallows arrived later. Flocks of Barn Swallows built new or returned to old nests under the eves of the barn. Their nests went from one end to the other, covering the eves on both sides of the barn. The Swallows' chirping and callings were music to my young ears and brain. 

Killdeer were fewer in number and more solitary. They nested on flat open spaces in our pastures or along the roadside to our farm.  Killdeer when startled made a sharp sound and scampered away at a quick pace. 

During Spring my siblings and I enjoyed the birth of animals: goslings, calves, piglets, kittens, and puppies. Chicks were ordered and delivered to the Pulaski Post Office.  After being picked up, several boxes of peeping chicks were released in a special building known as a 'brooder."  An electric heating bulb along with heat from a wood stove kept the brooder warm during cold Spring nights. My Mother religiously tended the fire, sometimes during the night. I helped my Mother feed the chicks while she watched over them as they matured. We did not consider the chicks as pets. Eventually, the chickens and geese were slaughtered and sold. 

My early positive feelings about Spring laid the foundation for appreciating the season as an adult. On April 25th, we began the 17th year of tending Prospect Gardens, a continual experience of renewal and nourishment.

Ten volunteers joined me on a day with puffy white clouds, blue sky and warm temperatures. In front and to the right is Erica. Sitting on the third step is me, then Alice, Astrid, and Ann N in her stylish sun hat. Near the right handrail is Dan. In the back row are  Clara, Kaylee, and Peggy. 

Shelia and Laura are not pictured. Thank you all. Your generosity and warm spirits made for a nourishing day.  Removing stinging nettles was the major task. This year they had spread throughout the Gardens. Some day lilies were removed and will be replaced with native plants.  Plant stalks were cut back and the orange snow fences taken down. 

We accomplished a lot while enjoying each others' company. Break was especially enjoyable. Astrid read a poem she wrote about her Westmoreland neighbors. She mentioned people, plants, pets, and unique things like a woven tapestry around a tree. To me, the poem is another example of being nourished by the daily extraordinariness of neighborhoods. Thank you, Astrid, for sharing a result of your mindfulness and your love of your neighborhood. 

 Here's Clara and Kaylee, two West High School's Leo Club members. Your youthful energy and hard work really made a difference. Good luck with those AP exams you mentioned. Thank you for taking time from your busy schedules. 

Dan and Astrid spent a lot of time removing Stinging Nettles. Dan was a first time volunteer while Astrid is now a veteran. Thank you both. Dan, here's hoping to see you again. 

Last week I talked to a couple harvesting young Stinging Nettles and young Bishops Weed. They were just off the Southwest Path and in the Westmoreland neighborhood. The young women praised both plants as tasty food and said they were excellent in salads.

  

Alice and Shelia removed day lilies commonly known as "ditch lilies."  They have been in this section for years, predating the Southwest Path. Day lilies  are aggressive, spreading and claiming new territory. Perhaps the mild winter was a contributing factor. Thank you Alice and Shelia for once again volunteering.

Erica getting ready to cross the path in search of more Stinging Nettles on the Fox side of the Gardens. A few were found. She also found and pulled a few garlic mustards which several years ago were prevalent throughout the Gardens. Last season we had none. Thank you Erica for once again volunteering after a hiatus. Welcome back. 

Thank you to Laura also (not pictured) but a very long time loyal volunteer.

May you too feel Spring's power of renewal and capacity to nourish your mind and body. I end with this Mary Oliver's poem that underscores the power of nature and ends with reminding us we are all embedded in the web of life.  

Wild Geese  

You do not have to be good.

You do not have to walk on your knees

for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.

You only have to let the soft animal of your body

love what it loves.

Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.

Meanwhile the world goes on.

Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain

are moving across the landscapes,

over the prairies and the deep trees,

the mountains and the rivers.

Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,

are heading home again.

Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,

the world offers itself to your imagination,

calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting -

over and over announcing your place

in the family of things.