It’s been one heck of a decade. I’ve had several new jobs, a few ‘new’ careers, all with the same outcome: disillusionment. I’ve owned a few new automobiles and enjoyed each and every one. I’ve read oodles of hateful and distasteful social media posts, but I’ve read and liked or shared many, many more that were kind, funny and full of love and humanity. I’ve had to say a painful goodbye to a loyal, beautiful dog, but I also welcomed into my life a wonderfully fun, lovable, silly and energy-filled pooch that has taken over my home and a big piece of my heart.
The world has changed a lot over the last ten years, for good, bad and very bad. I started this blog to share the micro, local and global issues that were impacting wildlife and the environment. PerchSpective has and will continue to strive to inform, educate and champion these issues and hopefully engender even just a small tidal wave of response. I care deeply about what’s happening to animals and wild spaces, and all I’ve asked (and will continue to ask) is that others care too.
In looking back over the decade soon departing, many good things have happened, many experiences and memories have been made, and for these I am truly grateful. Most importantly in 2010, I was living on a proverbial island of isolation. But at the end of 2019, I find myself part of a truly wonderful, social-media spurred group of people who are closer to me than few have ever been.
I am blessed and grateful to have these people in my life and to know that I belong.
So goodbye 2019 and good riddance, don’t let the door hit you on the way out. But before you go, I just want to say thank you. Thank you for giving more then you’ve taken away over the past ten years. Time marches on, life changes, and decades pass. The 2010’s have been better than the 2000’s, so bring on the 2020’s, I’m strapping myself in for what promises to be another wild ride – en garde 2020!
Dear Lucy, As I recall I left you last letter with my account of being knocked over just outside the park in Mouse Town. The trumpet wielding maniac, whom I’d previously referred to, turned out to be none other than my dear friend Clive who’d been sent into a frenzy after having a bumble […]
via 79 – The Mouse Town Autumn Musical Extravaganza — The Postal Adventures of Morris Mouse
As a culture writer I’m supposed to turn you on to some cool Euro detective drama on Netflix. Sure, I’ve watched them, and I have to say, not only are they mostly humdrum or clever without being smart, they’re not as interesting as what’s happening on Law & Order: SVU every week. Storylines that are…
via “Law & Order: SVU” is the most important show on television — Quartz
Where has the magic gone from childhood? Must adulthood negation the mind’s flights of fancy? Does being a ‘grown up’ have to shut the mind’s door to wandering through those shadowy nooks and crannies of childhood memories? Crevices where dragons lurked, waiting for the child in me to summon them out into the sunshine to play in fields of fairies and lightening bugs. The world is much darker and sterile as an adult, with so little wonder and imagination allowed to stir or escape from the depths of our memories.
With so many places currently a tinderbox of strife, stress, and violence, I long for those bygone days when there existed, most definitively – dragons! Tonight, I am going back in my mind. I’m going to walk along those hallowed halls of memories, allow my fingers to once again trace the walls and crevices of childhood memories, and call out to those fantastical beasts lying within. I need to find that magic that for a brief moment in time, filled my mind and days with magic -and hope.
This article, and a myriad of others, posits that telling our own stories is difficult, filled with obstacles and obstructions. Nonsense. Every one of us has inherited the gift of storytelling – ever since we first uttered a sound or word to others around us on the great plain. Mothers have told stories to their babies for millennia, just like fathers have told stories to children and elders to community members. Societal norms, traditions and customs have all been shared through storytelling. Here we are in 2017 with technology and tools at our disposal to tell our own stories to everyone in a plethora of ways.
It’s not complicated to tell one’s story or to spin a tale of adventure and intrigue. It’s part of our DNA, we just have to chose the format that best suits how we want to tell our story and then begin.
“Stories,” writes Lisa Katayama, “help us make sense of our world.”
via “What If People Could Tell Their Own Stories?” — Discover