HEARING FROM HERRING

A global problem with local impact. Still not understood the decline in what are unfortunately seen as "bait fish" will lead to a catastrophic decline in sea life if the overharvesting does not stop soon. Harvesting from lower in the ocean food chain is an all too familar example of the trail to ecosystem destruction. Think of a forest impacted by over cutting. Soon the large trees are gone and harvestable timber is redefined as younger and smaller growth. The demand for wood fuel in many parts of the world strips the forest of the growth of small trees and bush. If conditions allow it grassland appears for a time until over grazing and erosion finishes the job. On the way back home after a weekend in Maine, my alternator and battery quit, resulting in a night at Motel 6, not quite the fun poet Obeeduid had had the previous two nights camping out at Lake St. George State Park. Developing awareness and raising consciousness the poets Gary Lawless and Karin Spitfire held events all summer in the coastal towns of Maine where an once thriving sardine fishery allowed small town factories to process and can the fish for later consumption. The closing of the last operating sardine factory this year punctuated the effort.
One cosmic connect of the extra day on the road was the discovery of a column in the Worcester, MA. Telegram & Gazette newspaper (8/20/2010) by the outdoors writer Mark Blazis (markblazis@charter.net) The title "Giants gobbling up fish"

SHOW CAVES OF CENTRAL PENNSYLVANIA

Crave an underground view
streams flowing out of dark chasm
deep below surface
water currents head down to deeper lair.
Darkness of side passages
branch channels in limestone
room to crawl away from the electric light
but not on a wild cave adventure today.

A Show Cave is all upright
grandmother with a walking stick
teenage girl shivering in shorts
stairs to climb, damp flattened floor
the wiring nearly as old as discovery day.

Light brought to show melting form.
Eyes open to beautiful structures
Water drip carried stone deposited
grows an inch in a hundred years.

Later shut my eyes and minds-eye
sees the glowing multiple forms
calcite crystal flowers, thousands of stalactites
pure white flowstone not frozen
but so slow time stills.

Inconsequential cave crickets above the entrance
the usual tales of fish without eyes
names carved on walls
near the surface roots dangle down,
they find a way.

Ceiling and walls black from woodsmoke
natives stored their corn
made a trading place for tribes
spirit world was strong
phosphorescent flakes a star map to a different heaven.

Our guide calls cities concentration camps.
She is still pissed about the small pox blankets.
She has been touring this stone
for most of her life.

July 31, 2010
near Huntington, Pennsylvania