January 13th, 2013 by Michael Tabor
It’s Sunday, January 13 in New York and I don’t even have to put a coat on. The truth be told, we haven’t had a single cold day all winter; of course we have the rest of this month, February, and March but still. Whether or not we have frigid temperatures and tons of snow for the remainder of winter, the fact remains, that the climate has changed and scientists have confirmed that the planet is warmer.
Now the big question is: Is it our fault or is it just the earth’s normal course of events? The answer should be obvious to everyone except for excessively money – grubbing big business who see the human induced emissions of greenhouse gasses, but refuse to acknowledge it – “More government regulation with this economy, let my grandchildren worry about it”. It really is a form of denial or just a question of plundering gluttons who just don’t care about anyone but themselves. The notion that extracting fossil fuels from the earth and releasing prodigiously unspeakable amounts of pollutants into the air goes without major consequences is absolutely ludicrous. We are in a nutshell, killing ourselves! We as a collective species have been on the road of self – destruction and extinction since the industrial revolution. There isn’t a single accredited scientific body who disagrees with the fact that man – made pollution is responsible for the insidious destruction of the earth’s atmosphere.
Here is a brief list of the culprits:
Emissions by major industries
Power stations such as smoke stacks, power plants, manufacturing facilities, waste incinerators, etc.
Emissions from cars and trucks (just Google image LA smog and it will sicken you)
Fuel combustion in homes and businesses
The use of solvents and homes and businesses
I can go on and include household activities such as wood burning but don’t go crazy and get rid of your fireplace, besides, if we still had winters, there’s nothing more cozy than a drink and a nice fire on a cold night.
So to conclude, for the sake of our grandchildren, we MUST go green. I know many republicans have attacked the Obama administration for wasteful spending on solar investment but if we want to save the planet, we simply have no other choice.
So WhaDaYaThink ? What do you think? Note: if you’re really interested in the actual chemicals i.e. carbon monoxide, sulfer oxides, etc. just go to Wikipedia and plug in air pollution. The environment is just as important as the gun problem, whereas guns are really a national issue concerning only the United States, climate change is an international issue – global warming.
September 26th, 2012 by Magdalena Tabor
An article appearing on NBCnews.com today rankled me enough to protest the senseless slaughter of an entire wolf pack in Washington State consisting of no less than 8 wolves. And why??? Because rancher Bill McIrvine has not done enough to protect his cattle grazing on public land. His convoluted idea that there are radical environmentalists conspiring to introduce Gray Wolves to the detriment of ranchers who lease grazing land is absurd, when it is he who has done nothing to prevent the wolves from doing what comes naturally. The Gray Wolf, on the endangered list, has only just begun to proliferate over the last ten years, and now sadly, an entire pack must be destroyed because of the stupidity of just one person.
Long a subject of controversy, Ranchers versus Conservationists advocation of wolves, the two can readily co-exist by separating wolves from domestic livestock. It’s a no brainer – open land, open hunting. Wolves don’t understand they’re not supposed to do this. Man with his brain has to delineate the line by making it a visible one. We have McIrvine to thank for not using his and compromising an entire species for his ineptitude.
74% of the public vote NO in the decision to eliminate the pack. They are being destroyed as we speak. Get smart, America. Endangered or not? Extinct or not? It’s up to you. Make McIrvine assume responsibility for his non action. He wants grazing rights without lifting a finger. Then points it at us when the end result is what’s to be expected. Go eat a burger, you foolish excuse for a human being. Get yourself endangered with a huge topping of cheese.
So……….whadayathink? What do you think? Even ranchers have commented on McIrvine’s lack of wit. As ranchers, they expect a certain number of cattle to be lost to wolves but they use preventive measures. Even so, they are not opposed to wolves. If they can understand we’re all part of the chain, why can’t McIrvine?
July 12th, 2012 by Magdalena Tabor
Years ago. our little cabin in the woods had a campfire pit built nearby, composed of rocks dislodged from the walls assembled by farmers when there were fields instead of the now surrounding forest. Three trees were felled to use as “benches” around the campfire where we’d huddle roasting ears of corn or marshmallows long into the night. The familiar faces of family members glowed with warmth in the firelight and at the stories they told filling the night air. Since then, some have passed on, our circle broken; the rocks removed and scattered to the wilds. Our rustic seating area disintegrated over time, meshing back into the earth from which it sprang. Even so, the memories remain. Star studded nights call them back to this place, sequestered from all else. I wanted it back. The people along with the memories. At the very least, the campfire in its rightful place once more. A primeval force rekindled by a tribal instinct.
Last summer, I attempted to do just that. While Michael napped in mid afternoon bliss, I trudged up the hill to borrow my brother’s wheelbarrow. No one else was around for the weekend. I was on my own. I knew just the place to garner the rocks needed to recreate the pit. Wheelbarrow in gear, I barreled down the hill to the old stone wall that ran along the roadside. The wall was in a state of partial collapse and I would help it along by removing only as many rocks as needed. In an effort to get as close as possible to the wall which was situated up the other side of the ditch, I had to get down into the ditch itself. It was full of water but no matter. I splashed the barrow into it where I promptly became stuck. In the country, flip flops are not the wisest choice in footwear. The mud sucked at the soles. Squoo-utch! Squoo-utch! One for each foot, thus rendering me immobile. I was like one of those dolls with the suction cups stuck on a dashboard of a car. In attempting to disengage myself from the mud sucking ditch, I fell over sideways into the muck. Great! I heard myself laughing at my own foolishness. I struggled to my feet, slipping out of my flip flops which held fast to the mud as I tugged at first one and then the other, releasing its grip from the mud monster. I began again, this time carefully avoiding the ditch, and climbed up to the wall. I dropped rocks into the barrow with a satisying resounding thud at each collected prize. Filled to the brim, I jumped back down (barefoot) and gripped the handles of the barrow that proved too weighty to move. It buckled and shifted to one side, toppling into the ditch very much as I had done earlier. I had to remove some of the rocks to lessen its load. This done, and still with considerable effort, I forced the barrow out of the ditch and up onto the road with a grunt. Then went back for the remaining rocks with which to refill the barrow.
I was now ready to haul my load of rocks to its intended site. It wouldn’t budge. I removed some rocks yet again. Ugh! Still too heavy but I somehow managed to inch my way up the road, and I do mean inch in its every literal sense. I was determined, with all the backing of my deceased relatives cheering me on, to labor at my task like a demented workhorse. I began to break into a sweat, not having had the foresight to realize how….very….far….my destination lay. I….just….couldn’t….do it. Abandoning the wheelbarrow in the middle of the road, hoping a car wouldn’t happen along, I walked the rest of the way to get help. Now, the road is a private one, composed of dirt, and just as natural a country road as one could imagine; wide enough for just one car, that dead ends after a mile or so. It wasn’t likely that a car would come along; the only houses were a couple of vacation homes and a neglected campsite or two. But with the way my luck was running, I didn’t want to chance it. I went back. Tried again. And again. And a ….gain. Until eventually, I came within sight of my destination. Close enough.
Now for the fun part….
I would assemble the fire pit. Fairly soon however, I ran out of rocks. It wasn’t even half done. I couldn’t go back and repeat the insanity. Instead, I grabbed rocks wherever I could, even risking entering the forbidden (ja, das ist verboten) poison ivy area where everyone is repeatedly warned to steer clear. Certain I was immune to the unassuming little plant, I plodded on. Still….not enough rocks. By this time I was overcome by an overwhelming desire to squash the project in favor of something less arduous. In exasperation, with no energy left to wave a flag of defeat, I simply gave up. Someone would help me next time. Michael. My brother (maybe not, if he ever finds out I bent the frame underneath his wheelbarrow and frantically bent it back into shape weakening the entire structure). The main thing is, I made some new memories; in the form of an itchy, scratchy, miserable rash on both legs that lasted for weeks and grew progressively worse as time wore on, defying every conceivable remedy. Never underestimate the power of a tiny little plant with three very distinctive leaves. When (if) the fire pit is finally built, I’ll be itching (pun, most definitely intended) to tell this story around the campfire. It needs no embellishing.
June 24th, 2012 by Magdalena Tabor
While bike riding in the nearby Massapequa Preserve yesterday, I came across a glorious sight. Twelve swans floating as one in the creek that’s fed from the large pond a little further upstream. Other people also stopped to observe, one remarking “Six pair”. Everyone knows that where there’s one swan, there are usually two. Thus, multiple swans should turn out in pairs. They mate for life (something we humans can learn from). I spent a few moments drinking in their beauty before continuing on my way.
On my reverse trip, it seems that a Swan Lady had appeared, knee deep in the water, looking magical as the swans surrounded her. Then it became apparent, as the scene tarnished by the fact that she was feeding them along with a smattering of baby ducks. We were always told not to. Had something changed? As if reading my mind, she turned to me and said “It’s actually good for them. It’s wheat bread, not white”, she added in defense, as each swan politely took its turn accepting her offering by hand. I was somewhat skeptical but thought that she might be a swan expert, so certain was she in her conviction . She seemed pleased with herself at saying they had finished off the loaf. She had brought two and immediately began doling out the second one as more people gathered to watch. “Do you have any bread for the birds?” she asked a set of toddler twins. “If you do, then you can feed them too”.
On the other side of the preserve is yet another pond, along with a prominently placed sign facing Merrick Rd. DO NOT FEED THE WATERFOWL. It was posted by the Department of Environmental Conservation listing the reasons:
Concentration At Unnatural Sites
Spread of Disease
Costly Management Efforts
Cumulative Effects (one person feeds them, then another and so on)
Devaluation of the Species
And so, dear people, please leave nature to itself. It’s quite capable of providing for itself without any “help” from us, however well intentioned. It’s done so since the dawn of time. Take the bread home and spread some peanut butter and jelly on it for your kids. There are other ways of teaching your children about nature, beginning with suppressing the urge to feed the birds. They are not starving. They beg for food the same way your dog or cat does but the added distinction lies in the fact that these creatures are wild. So enjoy them at a distance with all the respect that they deserve. Meanwhile, the Swan Lady has prompted me to request another sign from the DEC to be posted at the Swan Lady’s site. It seems that it is she who needs to be re-educated, not I.
June 14th, 2012 by Magdalena Tabor
Fracking – The extraction of natural gas from the earth using un-natural methods.
Fracking – The decimation of the land affecting all living things.
Fracking – The polluting of groundwater to the detriment of all.
Fracking – The promise of jobs in exchange for a lesser quality of life.
Fracking – Big business versus the rest of us.
Fracking – An easy fix for an uneasy existence.
Fracking – The means to an end of life as we know it.
Fracking – The lazy man’s solution to alternative energy.
Fracking – Irresponsible measures taken in a grand show of national independence.
Fracking – The invasive drilling of the earth with no regard for the consequences.
Fracking – A dirty word for a dirty business.
Fracking - A bad idea for a good many reasons.
Not in New York. NOT ANYWHERE. For more information and what you can do to stop it, Google “No Fracking” or contact NY Officials directly at amillionfrackingletters.com….