In a raucous world swirling with disinformation, ringtones, screen time, polls, screaming, cursing, grousing, finger pointing, inflated egos, election projections and slumping jack-o-lanterns, I find diversion necessary. 

One enjoyable way is to take some quiet time up in a November oak tree. Ironically, the practice of of becoming one with a sturdy oak tree from 15- 20 feet off the ground with my bow and arrow, helps ground me. 

Here in my sylvan bully pulpit I am the Master and Commander of this rather small platform that I have hung on the tree. Once my safety harness is fastened and I’m settled in the predawn graying of the morning, I generally smile like I did when I was thirteen and my father ushered me into my first deer hunting tree. It’s so good to be here.

My focus here, in the nearby faraway, is not on today’s election day. Instead it’s aimed at the possibility of spying and maybe killing a passing deer. 

Ironically I am bombarded by all sorts of distractions while hunting.

Squirrels commonly steal my focus.  Oh so many squirrels! Today there was a feisty red squirrel wrestling with its treasure of a cob of corn discovered from a nearby picked cornfield. 

And suddenly the focus is diverted by trumpeter swans, passing overhead, softly bugling their morning chatter. 

Then there was the disturbance made by a reddish-hued fox sparrow raking and rustling the fallen leaves with its long toes. A scrounged seed was the prize to help  fuel this stout sparrow on its southward passage.  

The most lingering of distractions were the scores of crows that filtered into the bare oak canopy just east from my arboreal hide. They were mostly quiet with only an occasional caw. Most of the vocalizing were subdued short bursts of clicks, clacks and rattles. What were they communicating to each other?

Watching these corvids finally drift away, almost buoyantly. in their seemingly carefree flight, I silently thanked them for grabbing my attention and presenting me with questions. 

Less than a half hour later, with the midday approaching, I found myself wondering how that red squirrels prize of field corn might taste if I gnawed on it?

The rain began to fall and soon I was reminded of the wise words of a late Yukon friend who often declared, “Any fool can be uncomfortable.” 

Prodded by a growing hunger and a now dampened enthusiasm, I climbed down and headed northwest, the same direction as the crows, back to our house.

As I approached the house I could see smoke coming out of the kitchen chimney and I felt a gratitude in knowing that Nancy had a lively fire burning in the kitchen. And there would be coffee, and a lunch of scrambled eggs with spuds, kale and onions.

Soon I was sitting down in front of the fire and I asked, “Nancy what is keeping your attention on this election day?” 

Casually she answered, “Oh I’m going to make a skirt out of bra cups today.”*

“Of course you are.”

Like I said, my attention is constantly hijacked.

Like every day, this day demanded attention and to think that it is barely noon. 

* An explanation might be useful here. Miss Nancy is embracing her enhanced role of being an artist and  has been selected to exhibit her visual art called Skirting the Issues It is a collection of creations that poignantly portray various topical issues in our society. The show will be in the fall of 2025 at the Hallberg Art Center in Wyoming, Minnesota.

Filed under: Uncategorized