The only sounds are crows and wind. The winds resemble distant trains without the reassuring rhythm. They persist too strongly, and while I can’t say that the trees object and are complaining, many have retreated to their shelters for the winter.
No, this is not a pulse of power; it seems a determined, endless current, though it really is only a wave, the rhythm of which is not obvious yet. While I’m outside, that doesn’t reassure me very much.
As for the crows, I guess it’s nice to see them as a couple. I could not persevere without a partner. However that may be, maybe they don’t all feel the same way. How obvious it is that crows ain’t people makes me hesitate to make the observation at all. Their sound is as it always is, complaining, objecting, it sounds like. I don’t hear that so much in warmer weather, probably because other sounds interfere with my perception. Maybe because my mood is different. That observation is faulty, too, since I have no way of knowing how crows perceive the cold. I am only projecting.
The silence of the others makes me think that way, though.
On the other hand, today some silences relax me. I hear few cars, no lawnmowers, no leaf blowers, no trimmers. Good. Let them who think they are in charge sit at home and distract themselves with the TV or some other thing depending on electricity — and forget that today tells them they rely on nothing sure. Today says that we live on a planet, not a spaceship, or that if we’ve converted the planet to a spaceship, we’d better stay inside.
It’s also a reminder that while social evolution works fast, biological evolution drags its long, slow length across the desert of time, dependent on hap.
We need not know the meaning of haphazard if we know hap, which is chance. By chance, at about the time of my grandparents, someone figured out how to control (to some extent) and distribute electricity. Look at the difference since the turn of the 20th Century. However, my genes and my son’s are certainly almost identical to theirs.
If the electricity simply went away, I am not well adapted to do without it, though I may do slightly better than most. My genetics would not be able to help me. I would simply die of the cold, or the heat, or the lack of water, or the lack of food.
Someone objected to a general fuss about the fossil fuel companies by challenging us all as to whether we’d given up our cars. Well, no, that kind of social evolution would be too much for me right away. I do the obvious, driving a fuel-efficient car, conserving energy at home, supporting efforts to replace fossil fuels. That’s social evolution.
The crows weren’t talking about that, but the tone they use should suggest it.
— Jim Calhoun, Transition Voice