Random reflections on this autumn day

• I'm one year retired. No regrets. I love my free time and am enjoying life in a whole new way. 
• Since I retired, I've published three books: a poetry collection (Movements Through the Landscape); a memoir about growing up in Tarrytown, New York (A Town and a Valley. Growing Up in Tarrytown and the Hudson Valley); and a meditative book about gardening (The Gifts of a Garden). All of them are available for purchase on Amazon. I am working very hard to market the latter book, although I'd like all of the books to sell a bit if possible. Sending prayers into the universe for support.
• Marketing books is a job unto itself. I wonder how well other authors do this job.
• Forty years ago, I started working at Memorial Sloan-Kettering Cancer Center. A wonderful workplace, one I will never forget. It changed my life in all good ways and showed me what good leadership really is (professional generosity and wishing others well). 
• I think about those friends and colleagues who are no longer with us. I wish they were still here--Liza, Thu, Debby. You left us too soon. 
• I think about friends who are ill and what they go through every day, living with anxiety and the knowledge that they cannot do what they once could do. 
• Enjoyed visiting the new Munch Museum: Munchmuseet in Oslo today with my husband. We visited the old Munch Museum at Tøyen when I first came to Oslo; I was only vaguely aware then of Edvard Munch's paintings. Over the years I've developed an appreciation of his works. The museum is worth visiting. 
• We ate dinner at Villa Paradiso (Italian restaurant) afterward. I thought how nice it was to do this together, go out on a Saturday afternoon, and I mentioned to him that we should do things like this more often. He agreed. He will be retiring soon, so it will be interesting to see what life will be like then when we have more time together. 
• Munch was preoccupied with sickness, death, mortality (his mother and sister died of tuberculosis when he was young). Illness in general, including mental illness. His was not a very happy life. But he was an amazing artist. The acknowledgment of our mortality. Some say it becomes more acute once one turns sixty. All I know is that I've been living with this knowledge since I was a teenager and watched my father experience heart attacks and strokes. His first heart attack occurred when I was twelve years old; he died when I was twenty-nine. Mortality became real to me as well once I read Gerard Manley Hopkins' poem 'Spring and Fall--to a young child' as a teenager. Perhaps I shouldn't have read it and internalized it. But I did, and it has stuck with me since then, especially the last two lines: 'It is the blight man was born for, it is Margaret you mourn for'. Do we mourn for ourselves, for the knowledge that our lives will eventually merge into the river of time that sweeps us all onward?
• Everyone ages. Some are more afraid of it than others. Some feel the need to change their faces and looks in order to stay young-looking. But it doesn't really work. It changes how you look even if it may make you look younger, and if you are a celebrity, everyone comments. If it changes how you look, does that change who you are? Do you really believe that you are younger? I don't judge others if they want to go down this road, but I think it is probably easier to just accept the gradual changes associated with aging. Look in the mirror. Or don't. My mother would have said 'just live your life. Get on with it'. She was right about so many things. 
• Does having faith make it easier to deal with one's mortality? Perhaps. I'd rather have faith than not have it. But no one knows what life is like after death, since no one has come back to tell us about it, except Christ. And one must accept his words about eternity, in faith. 
• Faith is defined as 'complete trust or confidence in someone or something'; also 'a strong belief in the doctrines of a religion, based on spiritual conviction rather than proof'. Our society requires proof, evidence, hard facts. Hard to come by where the afterlife is concerned. If someone we once knew and loved rose from the dead before our eyes, I think we would freak out completely. 
• I am now a gardener. That is my identity for at least six months of the year. I am happy in that knowledge. Working with the earth completes me. I don't need much else when I am in my garden. My soul is happy there. It's where I find God. That's all that matters to me. 
• I share my garden photos with others, and they tell me that I am a master gardener. It's nice to hear, but it's not why I share the photos. I want to share the beauty that my soul 'sees'. I hope that others find peace and serenity the way I have found it. That's why I wrote 'The Gifts of a Garden'. 
• I think about so many things when I am working in my garden. There is something about weeding that encourages reflection. I connect with my garden in a silent communion; we talk without the actual utterance of words, but they are uttered in my head. I've learned that if you treat living things well, they will shine. They will do their best to be the best versions of themselves that they can be. If it's true for flowers and plants, it's true for humans (and animals) too.
• As a country (the USA), we need less emphasis on what divides us, and more emphasis on what unites us. The media have had far too much to say about what divides us. But we can choose to listen to it, or to not listen to it. I choose the latter, most of the time. Many women I know have done the same. There is no point in becoming an angry person if that anger does not lead you in the right direction, toward something positive--changing yourself or the situations that infuriate you. If you are constantly angry at everything, your anger is not rational or logical. 
• The orange-haired man appears to be imploding. It had to happen at one point. He's an old man now and he looks it. His behavior borders on deranged. How he's kept up the facade for this long is anyone's guess. 
• As Tania Tetlow--the new president (first woman president) of Fordham University--states, 'we build a common good with ethics, empathy, and faith'. Not with amorality, hardness of heart, and lack of faith. Humans must have hope in order to go on. Our job as Christians is to appeal to that hope in every person we meet. 

And one more poem--Violets--because what she writes about is what matters

Who has not felt the fleeting sorrow for living things that are wiped out or destroyed in the name of progress (however necessary)? 

VIOLETS                  by Mary Oliver 

Down by the rumbling creek and the tall trees— where I went truant from school three days a week and therefore broke the record— 

there were violets as easy in their lives as anything you have ever seen or leaned down to intake the sweet breath of. 

Later, when the necessary houses were built they were gone, and who would give significance to their absence. 

Oh, violets, you did signify, and what shall take your place?

(from Devotions--Penguin Publishing Group) 

Another Mary Oliver poem--Almost a Conversation

Almost a Conversation            by Mary Oliver 

I have not really, not yet, talked with otter 

about his life. 

He has so many teeth, he has trouble 

with vowels. 

Wherefore our understanding 

is all body expression— 

he swims like the sleekest fish, 

he dives and exhales and lifts a trail of bubbles. 

Little by little he trusts my eyes 

and my curious body sitting on the shore. 

Sometimes he comes close. 

I admire his whiskers 

and his dark fur which I would rather die than wear. 

He has no words, still what he tells about his life 

is clear. 

He does not own a computer. 

He imagines the river will last forever. 

He does not envy the dry house I live in. 

He does not wonder who or what it is that I worship. 

He wonders, morning after morning, that the river 

is so cold and fresh and alive, and still 

I don’t jump in.

(from Devotions--Penguin Publishing Group) 

Mysteries, Yes--a beautiful poem by Mary Oliver

Mary Oliver is fast becoming one of my favorite poets. I love pretty much everything she writes. 

Mysteries, Yes

by Mary Oliver

Truly, we live with mysteries too marvelous
 to be understood.

How grass can be nourishing in the
mouths of the lambs.
How rivers and stones are forever
in allegiance with gravity
while we ourselves dream of rising.
How two hands touch and the bonds will
never be broken.
How people come, from delight or the
scars of damage,
to the comfort of a poem.

Let me keep my distance, always, from those
who think they have the answers.

Let me keep company always with those who say
“Look!” and laugh in astonishment,
and bow their heads.

The Gifts of a Garden is available on Amazon

My latest book, available on Amazon in three formats: e-book, hardcover, and paperback. 

The Gifts of a Garden: De Angelis, Paula Mary: 9798435180572: Amazon.com: Books

(front and back covers shown; design by Paloma Ayala) 

Late summer garden--photos

As promised, some recent photos of my garden (August and September). Autumn is approaching here in Oslo, and gardening season is winding down. I went to my garden today after having been traveling for almost two weeks. The summer asters are in full bloom, the climbing rose bushes have bloomed for the second time this summer, the coneflowers look beautiful (see photos), likewise (some of) the gladiolas (see photos). The giant sunflowers grew very tall while I was away; their height is impressive, at least eight feet (see photos). The other photos were taken during mid- to late-August, when gooseberries, red currants, black currants and raspberries were harvested. The Folva potatoes were harvested at the beginning of September. 

yellow coneflowers

coneflowers and gladioli

giant sunflowers

the (mostly) perennial garden

garden project for this year--assembling and painting a garden bench

a lot of zucchinis (as usual)--they're easy to grow

a good year for gooseberries

pumpkins 

a lot of potatoes (one type--Folva)

Just about sums it up (the work world, that is!)

 

Autumn is almost upon us (saying goodbye to the bumblebees)

The garden has an autumn feel to it these days. Outdoor temperatures are still around sixty-five degrees or so during the early to mid-afternoon, but once evening comes, it's chilly in the garden. And it gets dark much quicker now. I had my annual garden party for my friends/former colleagues this past Wednesday; it was a lovely sunny day but after 7 pm it got very chilly. We had a very nice time, and when they left, I cleaned up and headed for home (around 9:15 pm), at which point it was very dark in the garden. I kept expecting to meet the badger family that lives somewhere in the vicinity of the Gamle Aker church; I can always tell when they've visited my garden because they dig little holes in their hunt for insects and worms to eat. I don't find them bothersome, but they have been known to kill and eat chickens, which is exactly what happened recently to another allotment gardener who kept hens. We are not allowed to have hedgehogs in the garden for the same reason--badgers. 

Autumn is also the time of year when dead worker bumblebees are more visible, I assume because their lifespans are so short (about two to six weeks). That means many of them have been working beside me in the garden since late July/beginning of August. I have grown to love bumblebees; I call them the jumbo jets of the garden, as I've probably alluded to before. They are so bulky compared to honeybees and their buzz is louder. You hear them coming. There were many more bumblebees than honeybees this year, probably because the garden no longer has honeybee hives. Bumblebees are great little pollinators, and I love seeing my garden flowers covered with them. 

Last night, near my greenhouse, I came upon a rather disoriented bumblebee on the ground. She was clearly struggling to walk and fly. I picked her up carefully, put her in my palm and patted her gently. She clung to my fingers for dear life. I knew she was dying, so I found a pumpkin flower and placed her gently inside it and placed the flower under some larger leaves so she wouldn't be disturbed. I gave her a few drops of water and left for the evening. Today I came to the garden hoping against hope that she had only been tired and had flown away, but that was not to be. She had died. All part of the natural cycle of life and death, I know, but the death of this little creature tugged at my heart. I buried her in the pumpkin flower in the coral bell patch. I wish it wasn't so sad to lose them. Bumblebees work so hard collecting pollen that they bring back to the hive, they do their jobs, they don't live long, and they often die alone outside the hive. Not much of a life really. Perhaps that's why my heart goes out to them. I am always gentle with them, and I love watching them flit from flower to flower. Their little lives are precious to me, as are the lives of honeybees and most of the other insects in the garden. 

Who knew that having a garden would change me the way it has? I am sure other gardeners feel as I do. I don't want to kill insects for no reason. I don't want their needless deaths on my conscience. I know there are some readers who will ask me if I feel the same way about hornets and wasps. I don't know, honestly. I do know that I don't kill yellow jackets if I can help it. I swat them away but I don't kill them. They are irritating, but they are also little lives. They buzz around in search of food, and it's not their fault that nature outfitted them with a taste for barbecued meat. Trying to peacefully coexist with nature's creatures is the best policy in my opinion, although I know that it isn't always possible to do so. But we can do the best we can to not destroy their habitats, and in the case of bees and other insects, to create gardens that are inviting to them. Gardens that welcome their presence. 

Garden update--August 2022

June and July were busy months in the garden. I wasn't there as often as I would have liked due to vacation and family get-togethers (all enjoyable), but when I was there I was efficient. My project for this season was to rearrange/transplant many of the perennials from the main garden to other locations because they have grown so much in the past few years and need more space and increased air circulation. The hostas especially had grown quite big, but they were almost not visible because they were located at the back of the main garden behind some taller plants. Since I had to take up all of the strawberry plants this year to plant new ones, I decided to allocate some of the 'strawberry patch' space (two patches separated by the entrance path) to the hostas. When I took up the four hostas, they naturally split into three plants each, so that I was able to plant twelve new plants, six in each patch. They are doing quite well and are flowering. I also bought eighteen new strawberry plants and divided them between the two patches; I planted them below the hostas. They too are spreading out and doing well. I also transplanted an astilbe (false goat's beard) as well as a forsythia bush, and both are doing well. Online gardening sites don't recommend transplanting in the summertime, probably because temperatures are too warm. They suggest the autumn for such activities, but here in Oslo the summer temperatures have hovered around 70 degrees Fahrenheit. That is an optimal temperature to do transplanting; warm enough without being stifling hot for the plants. I water well before and after transplanting and for at least a week following transplanting. We've also had quite a bit of rain during early August, so that helped the plants to adapt and thrive in their new locations. 

The crane's bill plant had also become quite large and was starting to crowd the nearby Phlox and peony plants in the main garden. So I took it up and divided it in half, planting both halves along the street fence. The other crane's bill plant was transplanted from its location at the entrance garden arch to a place further along the path fence. All of them are doing well. 

I bought two new Phlox plants, a new astilbe, and a new coral bell plant--all perennials--and filled in the empty spaces with them. I really like Phlox plants; they come in many colors and have a lovely mild fragrance that you can smell when you get near them. I divided the summer aster plant in two and planted both in the main garden where the hostas used to be. One of them is flowering and the other is on the verge of doing so. 

Of six pumpkin plants, three have produced pumpkins of a good size. A fourth plant has just started to grow a pumpkin, but the growing season is winding down here, so I'm not sure how big this pumpkin will be. It was a banner year for raspberries, gooseberries, black currants and red currants. Ditto for the zucchini plants--how many zucchinis they produce--it's amazing! The cucumber plants have given us some nice-sized cucumbers, and the tomato plants are loaded with ripening tomatoes. My string bean plants did not do very well and I'm not sure why. Likewise my gladiolas; some have flowered, most have not. Those that have bloomed have 'faded-looking' flowers, white at the edges. Strange. I've never seen that before. I googled it and the online info said that the corms could be too old. Or that thrips may be a problem (but I haven't seen any sign of these bugs). My blackberry bush is not productive either, but it doesn't appear to be suffering from any infestation. Only one of my two American blueberry bushes produced berries, which I don't understand and have to read more about. The Norwegian blueberry bushes both produced berries. Both yellow coneflower plants are big and beautiful; I love them. The rhododendron bush has also grown larger this year; it's been more or less the same size since we rescued and planted it in the garden back in 2016. The magnolia tree is starting to grow taller. But the true beauty in the garden this year was my wisteria--it is growing and expanding like crazy, and flowered early on. I cut it back a few weeks ago and it still keeps on keeping on. My pride and joy. 

I have grown very fond of ground cover vegetation--pachysandra and hostas, for example. Pachysandra grows so well in my garden and is a hardy plant. It's also lovely to look at. Hostas likewise. The bumblebees love the hosta flowers, as do the honeybees. There were a lot of bumblebees in the garden this year and that was good to see. Some honeybees as well, but not as many as in previous years since the hives were removed from the garden. The bumblebees do a great job of pollinating plants, so there's no worries there. 

My final project for this gardening season was to assemble and paint a chemically-impregnated pine wood bench that I bought from an online garden store. I painted it a forest green color and am happy with the results. Both the impregnation and the paint are designed to withstand all sorts of weather conditions, so I'm hoping that bears out. August is nearly at an end, so it's just to enjoy the rest of it, which I plan to do now that most of the heavy garden work is done. Put my feet up and read a book!

Gardening season is winding down. Of course there will be a lot to do in the garden to prep it for the winter months, so I won't be out of work during the autumn months. I've cut down the old raspberry canes already because for some reason the new cane growth for each plant has been vigorous this year. I'm not the only one who has commented on that. 

The beauty of gardening is that from one year to the next there is always something new and different to tackle, understand, accept, and work around. There's never a dull moment in the garden. There's always work to do, and when you sit down to relax, the sparrows fluttering around and spraying water here and there in the birdbath will entertain you, as will the jumbo jets of the garden (my pet name for bumblebees). Watching them land on and take off from flowers will make you smile. If I am in a bad mood before I enter my garden, I leave with a better mood, a grateful heart, and a smile on my face. Nature has a way of centering me and making me realize what is important here in this life. And what is important is not what society says is important, that is for certain. 

I'll post some photos of my garden in my next post. 

Do as I say, not as I do

Maybe I'm paying way too much attention to the analyses of the current political situation in the USA. It seems to me that no matter what the orange-haired man says or does, it has null effect on his supporters, who believe just about everything he says and continue to defend him. How is that possible? I wish someone would give me an answer, stat. In the meantime, he continues on his merry way, doing what he does best--double-talking and behaving exactly as he wants. But the rest of us should just do as he says, because of course he knows what's best for the country. Anyone who disagrees with him is out to get him. 

My closest friends and I attended Catholic grammar and high schools. We were taught that hard work pays off, that doing your best leads to a job well-done and satisfaction all around. We learned to tell the truth, that lying was bad and counterproductive, likewise cheating on exams. We learned that honesty was the best policy and that having personal integrity was important. We were taught to honor our parents and older people generally. We learned to respect authority. We were taught not to pick fights, and bullying was frowned upon. Our parents told us to try and make peace with the bullies, and if that didn't work, to ignore them. It usually worked out.

Over a long lifetime, I've witnessed many different kinds of behavior, both good and bad. My work experiences during the past forty years have shown me that doing your best does lead to personal satisfaction for a job well-done, but it is no guarantee that management will be satisfied. Management plays by its own rules. Giving your all is not necessary (or even desired) in order to get noticed or promoted; cutting your efforts to fifty percent can guarantee the same results as one hundred percent effort (I have tried this once or twice and it's true). Why is that? The answer is politics. Who you know is more important than what you know or how much effort you put into something. That is what Catholic schools and parents should have taught us, but didn't. Because they wanted us to make a difference in the world. I understand that. Take cheating on exams, for example. Cheating is anathema to those of us who grew up under Catholic educators, but in the modern world, many students would tell you there is nothing wrong with cheating on an exam in order to get good grades. Because good grades will give you leverage. Good grades will guarantee that someone will check off the box 'does well in school' and that opens doors for the cheaters down the road. But in the end, getting into some ivy league colleges (if that's your thing) also comes down to how much money daddy and mommy donated to the university of choice. Something else we weren't taught in school. Think of some of the recent college scandals where celebrity parents tried to buy off universities and individuals so their children could get into good schools. Thankfully they went to prison (albeit short prison sentences) for their unlawful behavior, but what kind of example does this set for their children? I'd wager that the only thing that bothers some of these parents is that they got caught. Nothing else. Because again, who you know and what college you went to trumps most everything else. 

Why do I bring these issues up now? Because it appalls me that we as a nation are going down the road toward re-electing a man whose amorality knows no bounds. It scares me to think that the potential end of democracy as we know it lies in the hands of a reality television persona and his family. It appalls me that everything in the world comes down to greed and grifting. Lying and dissembling are rampant--in politics, in the media, in churches, in schools. We don't react as a society anymore to bad behavior. We accept it almost apathetically as long as it doesn't impact us personally. But when we don't stand up to politicians like Trump and his cronies, we tell our children that it's ok to behave like he does. When we don't stand up for what's right, for how we were taught, we hand over power to the bullies. The entire GOP can't manage to find their collective balls in order to stand up to him. It's a sad commentary on what our society has come to, how low we have fallen. It's even sadder when the Catholic church defends and promotes a man like Trump, a man that fifty years ago they would have vilified. The priests preach from the pulpit about the importance of voting for a man who presents himself as anti-abortion. Whether or not he is against lying, cheating, grifting, and bullying is unimportant to his constituents and supporters. Anti-abortion trumps all, and Trump trumps everything and everyone. How low we have sunk. 

Updates on Freya the walrus

More online articles about the killing of Freya the walrus, which has more or less been unilaterally condemned internationally. There are many voices in Norway who oppose it also. Additionally, as my friend Jean pointed out, this killing was not euthanasia, which is normally defined as mercy killing. This was no mercy killing, it was a premeditated killing (she was shot) of a wild animal that certainly did not deserve to die at the hands of callous and cruel humans. She was killed because she was 'perceived' as a threat to human life, not because she actually was one. 

Freya, Hvalrossen Freya | Europeiske dyrevernere raser etter Freya-avliving: – Vi kan ikke bare drepe alle som er til bry for oss (nettavisen.no)

Dutch marine experts condemn killing of walrus Freya - DutchNews.nl

Norway PM Defends Walrus Killing Amid Global Outrage - Life in Norway

Did Freya need to die? Why euthanizing its celebrity walrus was ‘Norway in a nutshell’ (nbcnews.com)

Backlash to killing of Freya the walrus who made home on Shetland | The Scotsman

Photographer Who Befriended Freya the Walrus Outraged at Her Slaying | PetaPixel

Freya the walrus: Photographer who befriended animal condemns her ‘murder’ by Oslo authorities in Norway | The Independent

Freya, a Famous Walrus, Is Killed and Norwegians Are Divided - The New York Times (nytimes.com)

And a short info article about walruses:

Walrus - WWF Arctic (arcticwwf.org)

Photos from Oslo-Dalen-Utne-Rjukan-Oslo trip

As promised in my recent post (A New Yorker in Oslo: Oslo-Dalen-Utne-Rjukan-Oslo (paulamdeangelis.blogspot.com), I'm posting some photos from our recent trip around Norway, with overnight stays at Dalen Hotel (one night), Utne Hotel (two nights), and Rjukan Admini Hotel (one night), with a one-day trip to Rosendal. 

Unfortunately, since Freya the walrus was killed by Norwegian authorities, I am ambivalent about promoting tourism in Norway. It's a beautiful country, yes, but not one that is friendly to visiting wildlife. 

Dalen Hotel

The grounds of the Dalen Hotel, facing the Telemark Canal

The Haukelifjell mountain area

Haukelifjell mountain area

Utne Hotel from 1722

The picturesque town of Utne 

Hardangerfjord

Hardangerfjord

Baroniet Rosendal Manor House and Gardens 

The grounds of the Baroniet Rosendal

Leaving Utne by car ferry

Rjukan Admini Hotel

The lovely town of Rjukan 

The killing of Freya

Much has been written about the murder of Freya, the young female walrus who made the fatal mistake of entering Norwegian waters. It has been uplifting to read that many Norwegians absolutely do not support the needless and cruel shooting of an animal that brought joy to so many. The authorities who made the decision to shoot her are callous and should be held accountable. But they won't be. Because this is Norway anno 2022, where no one is held accountable for anything they do. I saw and experienced that often in my former workplace. If you try to get the name of a person 'responsible' for a particular policy, action, or statement, you won't get it. You'll get the names of people in the department that made the decision, yes, but you'll never get to know who actually made the decision to do this or that, in this case, to kill Freya. This is done to 'protect' the person who made the decision from hate mail, threats, and so on. Understandable? Unfortunately, yes, because in our day and age there are so many nutcases that walk the streets looking for someone on whom they can vent their aggression and craziness. But it never had to come to the point of killing Freya, and someone should be held responsible. There were so many other alternatives available, and the authorities settled on the easiest one--pick up a gun and kill the animal(s) causing the problem. That is often the alternative that is chosen in Norway. It is not a nation that opts to learn how to coexist peacefully with wildlife. 

My husband calls me 'dyrenes venn', which translated to English means 'friend of the animals'. He says it affectionately when I tell him about the bumblebees that died in the garden flowers, or the cat that takes a nap in my greenhouse, or the birds that take a communal bath in the birdbath. He knows that my interests lie in preserving life of all kinds to the best of my ability. I am not their literal friend, rather a protector of some sort. I sometimes feel like I am channeling my mother, because she used to behave the same way. That doesn't mean that I am able to prevent them being killed all of the time. I do step on (and kill) ants and other insects, but I don't do it intentionally. Every time I see an ant on a city sidewalk scurrying across the pavement, I step around it because I know that it's on its way home to the anthill after a busy day. Not so different from us humans. My garden has revealed the connection to all life that exists, no matter how small and insignificant, from the tiny ants to the larger brown slugs (which the garden board would like us to kill but which I cannot bring myself to do any longer), to the large crows and magpies that frequent the garden. I have a particular fondness for the light brown spiders that scurry around on the greenhouse floor when I disturb them in my hunt for a rake or other tool. They are harmless, more afraid of me than I ever could be of them (I'm not afraid of them). My husband likes spiders as well; he does not kill them and actually welcomes them in his boat because they do the job they were put here on earth to do and don't bother anyone. Even yellow jackets, as annoying as they are, have a job to do. I'm not always sure what it is, but I am not interested in killing them for no reason. And that is the crux of the matter--killing any living thing for no reason is just plain wrong. Doing so places you in the realm of the psychopaths. 

Reverence for life. I have that reverence and perhaps have always had it, but it is full-on now, I think because I am getting older. Our lives and the lives around us--human and animal alike--are short. It makes no sense to end lives needlessly. It's just cruel and shows that we lack empathy for living beings of all kinds. In that respect, I am beginning to consider the use of animals for food. We still eat meat, but much less than we used to, because I see that animals suffer at our hands in the meat industry. I saw that last summer when we stayed at a historic hotel that also raised chickens 'humanely', as the owners proclaimed. I didn't think the conditions for the little chicks were so humane; thousands of them were packed into a huge sunless garage with small windows, and fed and watered there. They never roamed outdoors, never felt the sun on their bodies, never foraged for insects and food on their own. I thought that if this was humane treatment, what does inhumane treatment look like? Perhaps I don't want to know. 

I want to live in a world that doesn't kill beings like Freya, who seemed to like being around humans. Whenever we establish any sort of bond with animals, birds, and insects, we are responsible for how we treat them. That means that we should not pursue those bonds if we are not willing to step up to the plate to protect the beings in question. It means that we don't encourage dangerous wildlife to become human-friendly. It means that we do not kill them unless our lives are actually threatened by them in a one-on-one confrontation as sometimes happens. I am not advocating for the anthropomorphization of animals (attributing human characteristics or behavior to an animal). I am simply saying that learning to coexist with them is the best policy. Let them go about their business as we go about ours. 

Freya's needless death, her murder, has been news now for the past few days. The media will move on from her and her death will be forgotten or relegated to the back burner in the relentless quest for more important stories. But I will not forget her, nor will I forget how Norway treated her. The way a country treats animals has a lot to say about the country. The lack of empathy for Freya tells me all I need to know. 

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I'm adding a postscript to this article, an update as to what the authorities have done with the body of Freya. They transported her body from Sandvika harbor to Ås, where the veterinary institute on the Ås university campus autopsied her. The distance from Sandvika to Ås is about 26 miles. God knows when and how they transported her; no one even knows at what time they shot her. Transport probably happened at night when no one was around to protest. That would be appropriately cowardly for these types of authorities. So to be completely clear: they had the money to move her dead body 26 miles so that she could be autopsied, but not the money to sedate her and to move her further out to sea, which probably would have cost far less. They took the easy way out as I wrote in my previous post about Freya. I hope their consciences plague them for the rest of their lives. 

Not one of Norway's finer moments--rest in peace, Freya

Image taken from https://images.app.goo.gl/yUjWbQmKC8owbqVH7

The Oslo fjord has had an unusual visitor since June, a young female walrus that was given the name Freya. The name Freya means 'the Norse goddess of love and beauty'. Unfortunately for the walrus Freya, there was no love shown for her when authorities ended her life (shot her) a day ago because it was easier for them to do that than to sedate her and move her to a safe place, away from the gawking humans who endangered her life, not the other way around. But the reasons given for euthanizing her were that she posed a threat to people, those wonderful human beings who gathered to watch her swim around and sunbathe on boats in different Oslo harbors, who gawked at her and did not leave her alone. Who swam in the water in the vicinity of where she was. Who harassed her. Idiots. She seemed to like being here and didn't seem to be in a hurry to leave. But she would have left eventually. Of course she would have.

Atlantic walruses, of which Freya was one, make their home in the icy waters around Norway, Greenland, Canada, and Russia. Freya had apparently been on a bit of a world tour, visiting the UK, Scotland, the Netherlands, Denmark and Sweden. Photographers posted many photos of her over the past months. She chose to spend part of the summer in Norway. Norway shot her. Norway killed her. No other country ever considered that possibility. Norway did. Even the prime minister supported the decision to kill her. Shame on Norway. Shame on this country. Shame, shame, shame. 

What this country did to Freya breaks my heart, and has changed my view of Norway for good. I don't trust the authorities anymore to make good decisions concerning wildlife of any kind. After all, this is a nation that still kills whales and like Japan, defends the practice. This is a country that shoots first whenever wildlife encroach on human territories; the solution is always to shoot them (wolves, for example) and to show the carcasses of the dead wolves on television. I've always wondered why the media allow that. Why do we need to see the bodies of dead animals? To convince ourselves that they are really dead? The authorities also killed an entire rabbit population on the island of Gressholmen in 2004 (Alle kaninene kan bli skutt (aftenposten.no); the reason given was that they were destroying the native vegetation. But the rabbits had been there for years and the vegetation grew back every year, as native vegetation usually does. Seeing the rabbits was part of the attraction of visiting the island. The authorities never listened to other alternatives. They always know best, these bureaucrats. They are arrogant and callous. 

Other countries take different approaches to such visitors. San Francisco in California allowed Pier 39 to become a home for sea lions when it was clear that they were using it to camp out. Food (fish) was plentiful and the marina area was protected. It became a tourist attraction, yes, but at a distance. You are not allowed to walk among the seals, and that wouldn't be a good idea anyway. The sea lions live there but also migrate to the Channel Islands during the summer months for breeding season. I remember seeing them when we lived in the city in 1993; it didn't take a doctoral degree to understand that one should stay a safe distance from them. Most people seemed to respect that. The city didn't consider shooting them as far as I know.  

I understand protecting yourself and defending yourself if confronted with an aggressive and dangerous wild animal. Freya was neither; she was a wild animal, yes, but she did not go after human beings. The opposite was true; the human beings hounded her. She paid for their idiocy with her life. We have not learned to coexist peacefully with wildlife. We say we want wildlife around us, but we don't, not really. It's a lie we tell ourselves. The death of Freya merely highlights that. 

The international reactions to Freya's death have not been positive for Norway. I'm glad to see that. You are free to disagree with me about this story; it won't change my feelings one iota. Here are some links to media articles about Freya's death: 

Walrus that attracted crowds in Oslo fjord euthanised: officials (france24.com)

Freya, the 1,300-pound walrus sinking boats in Norway, euthanized - CNN

Walrus Freya who became attraction in Norway's Oslo Fjord put down - BBC News

Walrus named Freya that drew crowds in Oslo euthanized by Norwegian authorities - CBS News

Norway Kills Freya, a 1,300-Pound Walrus Who Delighted Onlookers - The New York Times (nytimes.com)

Bee rescuer and bumblebee butts

I have officially become a bee rescuer in the garden. Specifically, I rescue them from drowning in the birdbath, which they frequent often when the weather is very warm, as it has been for the past week. They land on the rim of the birdbath to drink the water, but sometimes they slip into the water and don't seem to be able to swim back to the edge. It doesn't happen often, but when it does, I am usually able to push them to the edge with my (gloved) finger or a short stick so that they can crawl up the rim right to the edge and dry their wings off before they take flight again. I've rescued mostly honeybees, but today, I rescued a yellow jacket as well by pushing it to the edge with my (gloved) finger. It did not need to dry off its wings before it took flight the way honeybees need to. The wings of a yellow jacket seem to be longer and more slender compared to those of bees, which are shorter and wider. It's only my observation, but bees use a much longer time to dry their wings, fanning them at intervals as though to get rid of any excess water droplets that may still be present. 

I've also noticed that bumblebees like to take naps in flowers. Sometimes when I think they're dead, I find out that they're only resting. They work hard enough, so that a nap perhaps is what they need to keep them going. The lifespan of bees varies quite a bit from what I've read online. The worker bumblebees' lifespan is from two to six weeks, whereas queen bumblebees can live for a year on average. The lifespan of worker honeybees is between 6 and 7 weeks in the spring/summer and 4 to 6 months in the autumn; queen honeybees live for 3 to 4 years on average (Bee Lifespan: How Long Do Bees Live? - AZ Animals (a-z-animals.com). 

There are a lot more bumblebees than honeybees in the garden this year. I have come across several dead bumblebees, and I always feel a tinge of sorrow when I see them. Such short lives, such industrious little creatures. I am no longer afraid of bees as I was when I was younger. But of course it goes without saying that I respect them and have learned to coexist peacefully with them, I let them go about their business and they let me go about mine, They do protest a bit when I water the garden, especially the flowers that they frequent, and they let me know by buzzing about me. But it all returns to normal after a minute or two. 

I saw a cute photo the other day on Facebook of a bumblebee that had fallen asleep in a flower. Its little butt was sticking out of the flower, and the person who posted it made a cute comment about bumblebee butts. Here are similar photos that I found on this website, Tired Bumblebees Who Fell Asleep Inside Flowers With Pollen On Their Butts » Design You Trust. I did not take these photos, so please credit the website if you use them. I think they're adorable. Enjoy!