Grace. Do I really believe it’s possible to receive “unmerited divine assistance”? Do I really believe that I’ve been granted “approval, favor, mercy, and pardon”; that somehow, I’ve received “a special favor”? Do I show a “disposition to kindness, courtesy, or clemency”? Is grace the “attractive trait or characteristic” of my life?
Thoughts From the Porch:
It’s been a gray, dreary, and cold weekend here in North Texas. There were
rumors of sleet around us, but here in Fort Worth it was a constant drizzle. I
spent several winters in the Colorado High Country and I’ve never felt the cold
like I do here. It’s the kind of bone-piercing cold that feels like thousands
of tiny needles poking you all at once. Of course, I’m much older now and maybe
it was simply youthful exuberance that made the cold more bearable. Today is to
be warmer and it’ll be seventy in the next couple of days. I’ll quit
complaining now…
I had to run to the grocery store yesterday afternoon. It wasn’t nearly as busy as usual. Everyone must have opted for Netflix binging rather than dealing with the weather. When I got home, I paused on the porch to enjoy what gray light remained of the day. I’d love to tell how I got tom enjoy the quiet at the end of a long, dismal day, but that wasn’t the case. The caterwauling of hundreds of Grackles in the surrounding trees put an end to any idea of quiet enjoyment of the porch. It was so deafening I couldn’t even hear my inner voice, much less the next-door neighbor saying hello as he walked to his vehicle.
Some of you might be
unfamiliar with Grackles, so allow me to explain. The “Great-tailed” or
“Mexican” Grackle is a medium-size bird originally native to Central America.
According to Wikipedia, they’ve increased their range by over 5500% and can be
found through much of the United States. I’m convinced however, that the
greatest concentration of them are in my trees…
I don’t wish to offend
bird lovers, but I don’t like Grackles. If we lived outside the city limits, I
would have no problem declaring open season with the shotgun. Don’t get me
wrong. I love birds. They bring color and song to our quiet little cul-de-sac. Grackles,
not so much. They are, like city pigeons, flying rats. Noisy, flying rats…
Please don’t judge me if
you’ve never experienced a flock of Grackles. They are incredible foragers and
they have little fear of humans. They mock efforts to shew them away. They fly
together in huge flocks, often darkening the sky and even been known to interfere
with traffic.
Several years ago, the
Grackle problem got so bad in downtown Fort Worth that a noise cannon could be
heard going off in hopes of driving them out of the city center. Sundance
Square, the jewel in the crown of Downtown Cowtown, was so noisy and covered in
bird droppings it was difficult to find a safe place to sit and enjoy a summer
evening outdoors. The city sought to drive them away lest they deter commerce
and conspicuous consumption. Unfortunately, they ended up in quiet little
neighborhoods like ours. You wouldn’t believe I wash my vehicles and sidewalk
regularly.
That being said, I
noticed something somewhat unique to our Grackle population. They were all
yelling (it can’t really be called ‘singing’) over one another creating
incredible dissonance when all the sudden it was eerily quiet. I’m not talking
about the noise fading out. It was as if someone yelled, “lights out” and the
entire flock stopped at once. It went from a din to silence in the flick of a
switch. Looking up I couldn’t see a one.
I guess I’m a bit
simple. Little things really intrigue me. The Grackles may be flying rats but
they’re awesome flying rats. Now I know there’s several scientific and
biological reasons for their unique abilities, but to go from unbearable
dissonance to complete silence in a second is pretty darn awesome. It’s not as
though there were a few birds here. We’re talking about a flock of hundreds of
birds acting as one. Sometimes I wish people were like that…
I sit at my newsfeed
every morning, only to be greeted with all the dissonance around me. Everyone
yelling at everyone else. Everyone shouting how right they are. Everyone
screeching to be heard. Everyone screaming out for their self-interests. Sounds
a lot like the Grackles to me.
Imagine if whole
neighborhoods, whole communities, acted as one. You know, for the best interest
of the ‘flock’. Imagine if my selfishness was replaced by concern for my neighbor,
my community, heck, for my planet. Imagine if, instead of yelling to be heard,
everyone got quiet together, changed the manner of discourse and talked to one
another. I don’t really expect it to happen, but what if…
You’re right, I’m a
dreamy-eyed idealist. Maybe the world needs more idealists. It tends to get
beaten out of children in favor of being a practical, rational adult. It’s a
little ironic that Jesus said we should “become like little children” if we
really wanted to live out the Kingdom of God. Like John Lennon sang, “People say that I’m a dreamer, but I’m not
the only one…”
Thoughts From the Porch: The last few days have been a preview of Spring in North Texas. It was shorts and tee-shirt weather and even hit the eighty-degree mark. Yesterday morning was a reminder that Winter won’t be leaving for a while yet. Today was the coldest day of winter so far: a mere 25 degrees. I know my friends in Chicago and the Midwest are saying, “what a wimp”, but it drove me to the desk in rapid time so here I sit, coffee at hand and Stevie Wonder on the stereo.
February is the shortest month of the year as far as the
number of days goes, but it seems like it’s unending. Regardless of what a
large furry rodent says about Spring’s timing, February will last for months.
That’s what February does.
The good news about this February is that the ribbon cutting for Opal’s Farm is going well. Invitations are being sent and we’ve had a great response given those who have sent their RSVP. We secured tents in the event of inclement weather (it is Texas…). Thank goodness it fell in an interminably long month. Maybe we’ll get everything done…
As I write this it’s mid-morning here in Fort Worth. I rarely
sleep in and never on a work day. However, I feel into bed quite exhausted last
night. Apparently, I never set the alarm. Even without the alarm I’m usually up
and about by 7 AM at the latest. Today it was well after 8:00. My body said “stop”
and I must have listened, at least subconsciously. It’s taken several cups of coffee
to clear the fog hanging around my head, but here I sit.
Yesterday, Ms. Opal and I had the opportunity to speak to a Food
Justice class at Texas Christian University. Thank you, Dr. David Aftandilian,
for asking us to make a presentation about Opal’s Farm. He also works with the
Tarrant County Food Policy Council and I can’t begin to tell you how much that
work is appreciated. My work with Opal’s Farm has brought me in contact with so
many people who work diligently to improve food justice and access for the
residents of Tarrant County and North Texas.
The greatest difficulty I face when speaking about food scarcity
and access is the time limits imposed by everyone else’s schedule. I easily go
on for hours about these issues for hours. That’s why I’m so passionate about
Opal’s Farm. I have no doubt that everybody would love to resolve hunger and
food injustices, not just in Tarrant County, but everywhere. Unfortunately,
that problems so big that it often seems too abstract to solve. I’m under no
illusions. Opal’s Farm won’t settle the entire problem, but it will make a dent
in it. It’s something tangible. It puts the face of our neighbors, people who
live right here in Tarrant County. It addresses their needs one person at a
time.
I have a friend who’s been in the substance abuse and
recovery field for over twenty years how she managed to stay so positive when
the problem can be so difficult and frustrating. She said her focus was on the one,
not the many, that made her work so important. Like her, I know I can’t “fix it
all”, but I can do something. Farming is the first step.
“If you can’t feed
a hundred people, then feed just one.” — Mother Teresa
Ultimately, Opal’s Farm isn’t about the food it produces nor
the access it provides. Those are the means to an end. The end is serving
people, of transforming lives by being of service, by offering opportunity,
education, and simple human dignity, but it begins with a farm…
Thank you again to TCU for inviting Ms. Opal and I to speak.
Thank you to the college students eager to learn and seek solutions. Thank you
to all the folks who are working to find and create solutions to food
injustices, poor nutrition, and hunger for all our neighbors. Thank you to all
our fellow urban farmers who work diligently to ward the solution. Thanks to
all of you who jump in and donate to become “farmers” along side all of us at
Opal’s Farm!
“As we let our light shine, we unconsciously give other people
I know you’re going to get tired of hearing this – Opal’s Farm is having a ribbon cutting on February 15th! I just can’t help myself. I’m compelled to shout it from the rooftops!
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