Slingshot!

To any who dwell in the San Fransisco Bay Area of California, be advised to pick up issue #112 of Slingshot!  The famed and free radical newspaper can be found at the Long Haul in Berkeley, or in various cafes and street corners across the bay area. This latest edition contains an illustration by yours truly--and one by my friend the artist and nature interpreter extraordinaire Lesley McClintock. 

The editors of Slingshot gladly accepted my drawing of a battle between a cougar and a wolverine.... and embedded it within an essay by Steph Turner about "Narrative Sharing" as a means of rethinking communication and transcending political differences.  Evidently, my battling beasts have not mastered this skill.  Or perhaps they have, with narratives of "This caribou carcass is mine!" "No, it's mine!"  Or perhaps the meanings of the wolverine's snarl and cougar's hiss are lost in translation.

Lesley, meanwhile, took it upon herself to illustrate a drama of epic proportions.... As oil pipelines slash through the United States and Canada, they wreck forests, farmlands, and the traditional homes and territories of indigenous peoples.  In British Columbia, 66 kilometers south of the colonial town of Houston, a brave team of Native Canadians--the Wet'suwet'en--have chosen to resist.  Their territories are due to be ravaged by the proposed Enbridge Northern Gateway and Pacific Trails Pipelines (PTP).  In response, they have built a permanent encampment, directly in the pathway of said pipelines. The Unist'ot'en Camp includes a cabin, smokehouse, root cellar, outhouse and sauna; and is permanently occupied by members of the Unist'ot'en and Likhts'amisyu (both clans of the Wet'su'wet'en.)  They grow berries and crops in traditional farming practices (effectively permaculture.)  They also practice traditional governance and claim sovereignty, noting that their lands were never ceded to the Canadian government.  The Wet'suwet'en anticipate a total victory in their fight against the "carbon corridor."  I hope that they succeed. 

Generally, I have been feeling the burn and the freeze of the climate crisis and fossil fuels, as my recent string of blog posts might indicate.  I agree with the words of wisdom by the astrophysicist Neil deGrasse Tyson: “Aliens might be surprised to learn that in a cosmos with limitless starlight, humans kill for energy sources buried in the sand”.

Pipeline illustration by © Lesley McClintock, accompanying an article in Slingshot by © the Unist'ot'en Camp Collective. Said article was the source of information for my paragraph on the Unist'ot'en Camp.

Night prowlers and day petters

Every ranch has its cat. Rock Bottom Ranch is home to three: Titan, Teton, and Cecil. They entertain children, keep the ranchers safe from mice, and threaten native songbird populations. (The dark side of domestic cats has been scientifically documented. Hence, I contend that the ranch should cap its population at three.)

The cats show remarkable tolerance for the visiting children who cannot resist the urge to pet—sometimes en masse. Quite recently, one child held Titan in her lap, while six other hands stroked his fur, and one poked his eye, by accident. The cat didn't flinch, as tolerant as a father lion at play with cubs. Titan seems to have accepted such handling as part of his routine, as natural as climbing fences or stalking birds in the wetland.

In the woodlands beyond the ranch, other cats lurk. Titan's big relatives. They walk silent as shadow; they see us but remain unseen. They observe the ranch and our animals, ready to pounce on the unsuspecting. We kept a few domestic geese at the ranch, until the bobcat found them. Before dark, we must lock the goats inside, for cougars are on the prowl. Living with predators is part of ranch life. We protect our livestock as best we can.

Over a year ago in winter, snow covered the mountain peaks, and the foliage upon them. In search of exposed greenery, an elk ventured downhill, to the valley. He found Rock Bottom Ranch, and its goat pasture. He set to munch, beside his fellow ungulates. Enamored with the luscious grasses, the elk stayed in the pasture--perhaps until a little too late. A cougar leapt from out of hiding; her claws and jaws delivered a swift end to the elk. He became sustenance for the cat and her cub.

Of all terrestrial animals, cats seem the most graceful. Humans are awed by their elegance, stealth, athleticism. They populate our stories and art, and we name countless sports teams in their honor.

I present from my sketchbook a lynx and an imaginary beast which looks sort of feline. I have not yet had the privilege of so close a view of a wild lynx... it is based on photos. I had one close encounter with a cougar in Oregon. That story is for another day.