community, connection, creativity

lasting essence of the ephemeral

Feb 01, 2025

Western Gulls at the North Oregon Coast. january 2025. photo by anne richardson

dear sojourners,

during a lengthy stretch of moistureless days, nights dip below freezing. birdbaths are mini-skating rinks. i must remember to add fresh water each morning before House Finches, Song Sparrows, Black-capped Chickadees stop by. i swear they give me stink eye if i forget. seventeen days lacking rain. no puddles to sip from. my small contribution to their well-being. the red breasts of male Finches flashes in the bare branches of Dogwood. momentary awe if i remember to pause. pay attention.

seventeen days lacking Rain. looks like we set a record for minimal rainfall for january. this is not a record to crow about in the Pacific NW. grateful that Rain finally returned today. it is tumbling gleefully outside. i scowl at anyone who complains. we need this wetness to flow us into february’s first week. it was predicted for six days but the icon for Rain keeps falling away. five. four. now three days. instead they’ve subbed in Snow. i’ll accept what relief is offered. and we need snowpack on the Mountains. even blue Skies need a winter’s pause.

i spent a four nights at my beloved North Oregon Coast last week. january Ocean chose calm murmurs over riotous clatter (unlike my november visit, when storm dominated Coast). Sky blue as Lapis. Wind still most hours—even in the evening. chilled morning gave way to shedding coats as Sun warmed Sand. a pair of Eagles eyed humans, Dogs, Debris. they watched a lone fisherman in the shallow Surf atop the vantage point of the renown Monolith. no migratory Birds are present. Gulls and Crows are not interested in engaging. perhaps Eagles will have more success fishing than the lone man.

Ocean, ancient in her oceaning, ever ephemeral dance of Waves and Tide, once again offered me perspective: humans as a species and the mischief we create is a blip in time. a destructive blip though. i find solace in knowing Ocean knows no borders despite our desire to name and confine Oceans (and many other “bodies” of Water.) Ocean as a being is comprised of many Beings. is a multitude of entangled Beings.

the more i study about this amazing world, the more foolish i find the concept of “the individual,” though for simplicity in our noun based language we tidy ourselves into a neat package of “one.” much energy spent focused on claiming what is “mine,” though i am willing to admit i take up much space looking very much like a solo being.

then there are “Western” Gulls. Gulls, these Beings that have been around 30 million years. gathering as community in the calm at a convergence point where Creek flows into Ocean. i have an enduring fascination with Gulls. what i perceive as their playfulness. persistence. squabbling robust community. and beauty. when they rise en masse from Sand and Surf it appears as chaos…or dance. i vote for dance. winter is food scarce for them i assume, and yet even the dead Jellyfish that were strewn from one end of the Beach to the other did not appeal to their not finicky tastes.

death usually finds me when i am at the Coast…or perhaps i am more aware. one of my quirks. dead Birds usually. last time a Seal. occasionally scant remains of a Whale. perhaps due to lack of recent storms and lower Tides, at first it was “only” the Jellyfish that Ocean had laid upon Shore. then i considered Driftwood.

selection of Driftwood and Jellyfish. photos by anne richardson

Driftwood was once, obviously, a Tree. as it has come to rest upon Beach it now appears as stump, log, cut wood, ship debris, or in another form. it dawned on me that these selections of wood before me in various sizes, decay, form were once seeds, then seedlings and grew and grew and grew into Trees that held Birds and Nests and Fledglings. Owls peered from the top of their branches seeking prey in the dark of night. Squirrels, Martens, and other Critters used them for shelters and homes. Spiders wove intricate webs among their branches or against their bark. bark that was covered with Lichen and Moss. a world of Insects, Bees, and other small Beings thrived in this community, and sometimes were the cause of their demise. some held the scars of scorching fires. their roots were complex communications networks, aided by Mycelia. and so much more. the stories held in each piece of Driftwood would fill a human library. what could i learn from these “castoffs” scattered along the Coast? would i even know what questions to ask them? perhaps it was enough to appreciate their beauty. and notice life in death. decay as life. in its complexity it is simple. in its simplicity it is complex.

and then there was the setting of Sun each evening. each night brought a different arrangement of color depending on clouds that rose from the horizon. one night blazed heart-beat red. another tangerine and melon flesh. while another evening calmed to peach with hints of lavender. the final night a duvet of gray covered the sky. as Sun slipped away, a frayed piece of the duvet gave way to allow hints of Salmonberry to adorn the fading day. Ocean murmured in my ear. Eagles that sat atop the Monolith in daylight had left. i held my own tender heart. held my own ephemeral nature. remembered that though i could not see early rising Venus in the night sky like i had the other three nights, Venus was there. far away planet another reminder that Earth is but one of a multitude.

my vision is different when i slow. an ephemeral vision? tied less to time…more to Tides. Ocean has always been here—always would be in some form. and the Gulls, Crows, Jellyfish, Driftwood. life and death and life and death would continue to cycle.

ephemeral and quiescence—two words that have fallen into my life recently. one familiar. one new to me.

ephemeral: synonyms: fleeting, transitory, momentary, brevity, fugitive, evanescent. a word that is buoying me in these unsettled times. hard times. it doesn’t give me a pass on sorrow. or uncertainty. or Grief. but does offer perspective. and focus. if i am embodied momentarily on the timeline of this planet (which i don’t see as a line…but that’s another post), well then how do i want to engage? a question not seeking an answer so much as being held with tenderness.

quiescence: discovered in Nan Shepherd’s book, The Living Mountain. gorgeous book that i borrowed from the library and wanted underline and mark up! so now looking for my own used copy. (summary below.) anyway, one of her chapters was on “sleep” and she used the word quiescence. synonyms: inactivity, dormancy, quiet, induce sleep-like qualities, calm, rest. as the human world seems to be in constant chaos, constant exhale, taking time for quiescence is vital for me (and perhaps you) to maintain the energy i need to engage in ways that are, i hope, nurturing and kind.

“The Living Mountain is a lyrical testament in praise of the Cairngorms. It is a work deeply rooted in Nan Shepherd's knowledge of the natural world, and a poetic and philosophical meditation on our longing for high and holy places. Drawing on different perspectives of the mountain environment, Shepherd makes the familiar strange and the strange awe-inspiring. Her sensitivity and powers of observation put her into the front rank of nature writing.”

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which brings me to the three c’s:

the three c’s: i am not a “front-line” person. but as i was walking along the Coast last week, i wondered about how i could support my small bit of the world. i may not be able to stop the disintegration. the upheaval. but i do believe in the capacity of human kindness is as deep and wide as the capacity for cruelty.

Community: i am continuing to engage in my communities. i have several in my life. reaching out. staying engaged. being that open person who listens. noticing and seeing where i can be of support.

Connect: i am sending notes to my “beloveds”…friends and acquaintances to let them know they make a difference, they are loved and appreciated. if i have physical addresses i send cards. otherwise a photo or text with encouragement.

Creativity: photos, writing, even reading to stretch my curiosity is a creative practice for me. when i first started engaging with Corporeal Writing, they had a saying “Make Art in the Face of Fuck.” i wasn’t as clear on the concept as i am these days. art is salve. a balm. it is fluid. create people!!

so these are my three c’s: community/connection/creativity. if they appeal to you, please engage as you wish. oh, i also limit my amount of social media intake as an act of self-kindness.

insights from Lichen

i can’t close this post without sharing this: i’m slow reading “Entangled Life, How Fungi Make Our Worlds, Change our Minds & Shape Our Futures” by Merlin Sheldrake. the chapter on Lichen blew my mind. i already thought Moss and Lichen were cool, but after reading this chapter i thought “queer ways are flexible and adaptive. rigid forms/structures stand for a while, but they can’t last. hmm, isn’t creativity and art queer?”

here is a link to the paper, “Queer theory for lichens” where lichenologist Toby Spribille draws on information to make these arguments shared in Sheldrake’s book.

“Its author [of the paper] argues that lichens are queer beings that present ways for humans to think beyond a rigid binary framework: The identity of lichens is a question rather than answer known in advance. In turn, Spribille has found queer theory a helpful framework to apply to lichen. ‘The human binary view has made it difficult to ask questions that aren’t binary,’ he explained. ‘Our strictures about sexuality make it difficult to ask questions about sexuality, and so on…Yet it is no longer possible to conceive of any organism—humans included—as distinct from the microbial community they share a body with [note: Lichen are an “extroverted” symbiotic being]…Our bodies, like those of other organisms, are dwelling places. Life is nested biomes all the way down.” (pg 90-1)

as i read about Fungi/Lichen and continue to read Erin Manning’s book, “The Minor Gesture”, (mentioned in my last post, wild are Fires, wild are Crones,) i see how seeped our system of study is in one way of viewing the world…and that is through a neurotypical, western lens. b has to follow a. intellect is restricted to a narrow view of understanding. even in doing research certain boxes have to be checked for grants. it stifles creativity. there needs to be room for expansion and an openness to be uncomfortable. allowing for mystery.

for your reflection:

what/who/where are your communities? how are you engaging? what does “being supportive look like to you?”
who are your connections (some of this may overlap with community)? how do you strengthen these ties?
what does creativity look like to you? how are you creating these days?
have you considered the idea the “binary thought” may be a human construct and that the natural world offers many examples of symbiotic relationships that may ask us to expand our views? what do you think about the concept of our bodies being “dwelling places?”
how are you being in the midst of all that is transpiring? how are you extending kindness to yourself? are you holding your own heart in kindness?
i’d be interested in hearing how you are navigating these churning seas.

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