Category: Sustainable living

“Blurtso goes green” (IV)

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It sure is warm in here, said Harlan. It sure is, said Blurtso. That’s because a greenhouse, said Alex, turns solar energy into thermal energy, which in turn creates a convection process. What? said Blurtso. Solar energy, said Alex, passes through the glass and gets absorbed by the ground and plants. The plants convert the sun’s short wave infrared rays into long wave infrared rays—into heat energy—which can’t escape the glass. Because the air is trapped, the warm air near the ground rises and the cool air near the ceiling falls, turning the greenhouse into a convection oven which forces the air to become warmer and warmer with each rise and fall. A convection oven? Said Blurtso. Exactly, said Alex. Does that work on a small scale? said Blurtso. Of course it does, said Alex. So I could bake a pumpkin pie, said Blurtso, in a miniature greenhouse?

“Blurtso goes green” (III)

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Your greenhouse was all we talked about today in class, said Harlan. Really? said Blurtso. Yes, said Harlan, the professor gave us an article to read about Degrowth Theory. Degrowth theory? said Alex, isn’t that an oxymoron? An oxymoron? said Blurtso. Yes, said Alex, a concept that is made up of contradictory or incongruous elements; growth implies increase, “de” implies the opposite, so you might as well say decrease. The professor explained that, said Harlan, he said the word implies the increase of communities choosing to decrease their consumption, a world where more people choose to live a simpler lifestyle. What does that have to do with my greenhouse? said Blurtso. Your greenhouse, said Harlan, is a local, self-sustaining environment, you could live forever in this greenhouse if you chose to. Except, said Blurtso, for pumpkin pies. You could grow pumpkins, said Harlan. How would I cook them? You’d have to plant some fast-growing trees, said Harlan, and use the wood for fire. Or use solar energy, said Alex. Isn’t it hard to grow solar panels? said Blurtso. It’s impossible, said Harlan, but you could trade with others in the community who had what you need, and eventually reduce the size of your environmental hoofprint. My environmental hoofprint? said Blurtso, I don’t think my hoofs are too big.

“Blurtso goes green” (I)

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Hmm, thought Blurtso, the grass in Pablo’s greenhouse is getting out of control… I’d better do some serious grazing.

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This is going to take longer than I thought…

“Blurtso looks at the snow” (XXIII)

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I can understand why people don’t think they’re part of nature, when the wind, rain, sun and snow seem to do what they do without trying, while humans struggle to do what they do. On the other hand, humans don’t struggle to struggle, they struggle without trying.

“Blurtso meets Kahlil Gibran”

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Kahlil Gibran, said Pablo, in the section, “On Children”, writes:

“Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life’s longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.
You may give them your love but not your thoughts,
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow,
which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them,
but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.”

That’s very profound, said Blurtso. Yes, it is, said Pablo.
I wonder, said Blurtso, if Gibran was a donkey in a former life?

“Graham Cracker Crumbs” (IX)

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“A lesson in beauty”

Because the flowers hide patiently
under the cool blanket of autumn,

because the spring comes quietly
with the sound of melting snow,

because the breeze touches softly
with the fresh fragrance of summer,

I will have to learn to see,
to listen and to feel,
if I am to find you.

“Graham Cracker Crumbs” (VIII)

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“I cannot offer”

The hills do not know me
and the waves erase my name,
I cannot offer the gifts of the earth.

I cannot offer the broad mountain and wild rose,
the moody sky and its quarreling clouds.
My hooves are frightened,
they fall on the rocky path,
and they tear on the virgin thorns.
Because its waters do not call me,
I cannot offer the gifts of the earth.

But you sprang from the soil.

You awoke in the blue day
that echoed in the trees,
opened your arms, and embraced the dawn.
Your voice flew from branch to branch,
and your happy hooves played,
laughing with the stream.
The wind whispered secrets of the stone,
and the sun sketched your soul
with stretching shadows.

I cannot offer the earth,
so I wait the night in silence
to admire your midnight crown.

“Graham Cracker Crumbs” (VII)

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“With two hooves”

With two hooves and a full heart
I have fashioned a poem.

It was born of a fragrant branch
cut from the top of a white mountain.
With a delicate blade I shaped it,
refined its roughness,
I smoothed, sanded, and stroked it
until it had the softness of your snout.
With a dark varnish
I released the blood in its veins.

It was born as you were, it is yours.
I traveled the winds of salt,
where the waves ache
and the rivers meet and mix.
At a silver lake I listened.
I crossed the seasons,
and found in the fountains of spring
the voice that knows your name.

With earth on my hooves,
I bring this poem
to the silent place where you keep
the secrets of your heart.