This post is a response to an April Poetry Month challenge issued by Mary Lee Hahn at her blog, Poetrepository. She found some family photos this summer at her home place and thought it would be fun to write poems about them this month. Carol Wilcox (Carol’s Corner) and Kevin Hodgson, (Kevin’s Meandering Mind) are writing some awesome poetry this month (as always) along with Mary Lee.
Considering Anna Atkins and the Brown Algae of Britain
Was it love that moved her
over a slippery beach at low tide
collecting her specimens,
lifting seaweed
from the rocks? Even before Darwin,
she was a seer,
one who sought pattern
in a world of difference,
saw change hidden beneath
the relentless waves.
Who will remember all of
the small things,
the odd little things.
the silent, still
and mute things?
No one walks through
mud anymore. None
collect things – the variety
of the finches’ beaks; the sex life
of barnacles; these
are beneath our notice.
Who slogs among the leeches
of the Malay Archipelago
to bring home beetles? Who
climbs the thin-aired Andes?
Who scuffs among tundra plants,
swatting at mosquitoes? Kneels
to inspect mosses? Or listens
for the seabirds lost
to the fog of the Pribilof Islands?
When did this change? Was
it gradual, this forgetting how to see?
Did we lose it slowly
like the light leaves
the sky at the end
of the day, when suddenly,
we look up from our chairs
and notice that darkness
surrounds us.
– Steve Peterson
I’m using images from the New York Public Library’s digital collection, in this case, a set of photos from the digital collection of Anna Atkins’ book, Photographs of British Algae. You can read more about her here. I was intrigued that she was an early believer in evolution, albeit of the Lamarckian kind.
I write this on Earth Day, a day I usually do not celebrate since, as my partner says, “everyday needs to be Earth Day.” This poem is probably harsher than I really believe, although, these days, it is easy for a person to despair. Recently, I read about how some are thinking that this newest “epoch” should be called the “Anthropocene“, since we humans have made quite a mess of things.
When did this change, indeed. When did it become acceptable to blind ourselves to things like the bleaching of the Great Coral Reefs — 93% bleached. Yes, we have made quite the mess here…
Sigh.
PS — thank you for teaching me about Anna Atkins!!
I knew about the loss of coral reefs, but not about the 93% figure. wow.
Recently I heard about some researchers who are studying adaptability in corals with the idea that they might be able to breed (or genetically engineer) corals that could withstand warmer ocean temperatures. Hmmm…two thoughts: not sure it’s good to tinker that way with organisms and, has it really come to this?
Walking through mud
comes easy
for me;
I am always looking
down anyway,
instead of up,
and where you all notice
the sky and clouds,
I only see the scattered remains
of soil and time.
–Kevin
Thank you, Kevin! I have to remember that for some mud-walking is still preferable to the indoor activities on their devices. I’m certainly not anti-device, but I do worry that we lose something when we forgo the world that is muddy, insect ridden, and “un-clickable” for the world that we can click through with ease. What can I learn when I have to wait for something to happen (and maybe it won’t), rather than make it happen?