Rebecca Anthony ; the truth as I recall it, with honor, with humor

                                                                         Animal Intelligence   From dolphins to prairie dogs, ravens to dinosaurs scientists and lay people have been judging sentient beings for centuries, comparing their intellectual abilities to human abilities and always finding the finned, feathered and furry ones wanting. As children, many were taught that the all important opposable thumb, the ability to use tools, problem solving capabilities, our huge cerebral cortex and the fact that people have emotions were the key components that separated apes (read Homo sapiens) from the rest of the animal kingdom. Humans were considered to have superior intellect and were the gold standard by which all other animals were measured. For example, scientists stu...

                                                                                                                                                                                     Buddy                                                                   ...

     Carrying the weight of celestial events and other musings on learning to be alone     One of the most difficult things about being alone, whenever in my life I have found myself there, or, put myself there, is not having anyone with whom to share experiences. If you were to put yourself in my shoes for a moment (and a moment is plenty long…don’t try to do it longer than that or you’ll be reaching for bourbon or hydrocodone or Hollywood) it might make some sense. In my first 25 years of life I was never alone, unless I was in solitary confinement.   I was born number nine of eleven children.  Counting my parents, we were a family of thirteen. Sometimes we had a grandmother or friends staying over and often we had foreign exchange students so, until my oldest brother moved out of the house, there were 13+ people there. Like it or not.   We were privileged. Our house, if you included the basement, which you must, had three stories....

I think I have been holding my breath for weeks awaiting this rain.   The heat, cast-iron hot and immobile, breathless, dehydrated me; a mere pile of salt.  For days I sat, hardly moving, unable to think of anything but my breath.  It’s not supposed to be 97, 99, 100 degrees for so long in July. But I couldn’t get around it. I was forced into the moment. The heat, by herself, with no swimming pool, no air conditioning, no billow of air, allowed no escape.    We were all in it, sweating, breathing the same air as mummies; dusty, stale, ancient as the pyramids. The lettuce wilted. The crops failed. The birds went into hiding.   Then the rain came. Loud. Pounding. First the lightning came and then the thunder at a distance. Then a huge blast of wind pushed from the south, through the trees, rocking their trunks, upending nests. As fast as it hit us it passed and was gone.  It tore open the pores of the Earth, the impenetrable crust, making ...