Read the original column in Noozhawk
A few days into the Olympics I was frustrated with the coverage. I wanted a variety of events without consigning myself to a part-time job as a couch-potato.
The highlights coverage started at 8 o’clock, but I was jet-lagged and tended to fall asleep in the first hour.
One day, doing errands around town, I overheard three different conversations extolling Peacock TV. I took the rare step (for me) of purchasing the coverage halfway through Olympics, at the cost of $12 for a month. Thanks to Peacock, I watched impressive Olympic displays whenever I wanted.
Peacocks have impressive displays of course, though irritatingly loud if they live in your neighborhood. We all love animals. We admire their beauty and their strengths, so different from ours. Mostly, we like them when they’re under our control.
Not many animals were invited to the Olympics, but horses participated under tight control in jumping, dressage, and cross-country events.
The day I watched the jumping competitions, my friend Jane was in a terrible horse accident, when wild animals in the form of yellowjackets tangled with her horse China.
Jane and friends were riding on a mountain chaparral in Gaviota when the horse in front of her mare stepped on a yellowjacket nest.
China couldn’t escape the furious stinging on the narrow trail and bucked Jane off. She fell on the trail and was stomped by her frantic horse.
Jane feels fortunate to have escaped with contusions, a broken rib, and some staples in her head, plus “an amazing helicopter ride,” she told me.
I suffered a far less consequential tangling of wild and human interface a few months earlier, in Big Bend National Park. As a light sleeper, I was conscious enough at 3 a.m. to feel something scamper lightly over my sheet-covered ankles.
“Mouse,” I yelled. My husband didn’t stir.
“MOUSE!!” I screamed.
I got up gingerly, reluctant to touch the floor with my bare toes. Dave sat up groggily. I switched on the light but saw nothing.
“Maybe you dreamed it,” he said.
“Maybe I did,” I agreed doubtfully. We stood there stupidly for a minute or two more, until something jumped up on the screen door.
“Oh, it’s a lizard,” I said, relieved. “I feel a little better about that.”
I turned on the room light to look for a broom to shoo it out of our cabin. With better light, it turned back into a mouse, staring at us with dark round eyes as it clutched the screen door. Almost cute, until it ran down the screen, scurried against the wall, and disappeared into a suitcase.
We finally succeeded in diverting it back toward the door. Propping the door open, we designed a generous escape channel using boxes and trash cans. He scampered through the doorway and disappeared out into the night.
We latched the door closed and secured all our food items. Pests!
In the struggle for control between insect pests and agriculture, last week marked a hard-won win for the earth’s ecosystem.
For more than 150 years, we have applied chemicals to agricultural plants, initially at unknown cost to the soil. The risks have been apparent now for decades, but in the case of the pesticide DCPA (Dacthal), chemical companies stalled in providing the information that proved the damage.
The EPA chose emergency action on Aug. 6. It was the first such action in 40 years. Data showed that exposure to DCPA by pregnant people can result in changes to fetal thyroid hormone levels, risking irreversible damage to brain development.
Most at risk are agricultural workers, but also farm neighbors and consumers.
What will become of our produce? If we continue demanding blemish-free fruits and veggies, the chemical companies will continue to stay ahead of the EPA in designing pesticides that favor aesthetics over the environment.
Or, we can embrace organic foods and support the Ugly Produce movement. It’s up to us to keep our earth nest habitable.
I woke up the morning after the mouse incident almost having forgotten it. Making the bed, though, I spied mouse droppings on the bedspread. Repulsive proof that it wasn’t a bad dream. I pointed out the turds to Dave.
“Oh, no,” he said. “I was eating on the bed. That’s muffin crumbs.”
Another animal out of control.
Karen Telleen-Lawton, Noozhawk Columnist
This article was published on August 19th, 2024 in Noozhawk – you can read it “in print” here.
Karen Telleen-Lawton is an eco-writer, sharing information and insights about economics and ecology, finances and the environment. Having recently retired from financial planning and advising, she spends more time exploring the outdoors — and reading and writing about it. The opinions expressed are her own.
KTL at CanyonVoices dot com