Welcome to DU! The truly grassroots left-of-center political community where regular people, not algorithms, drive the discussions and set the standards. Join the community: Create a free account Support DU (and get rid of ads!): Become a Star Member All Forums Issue Forums Culture Forums Alliance Forums Region Forums Support Forums Help & Search

H2O Man

(73,232 posts)
Tue Jun 24, 2014, 07:32 PM Jun 2014

Strawberry Fields Today

">>>No one I think
is in my tree; I mean it
must be high or low.
That is you can't, you knw,
tune in, but it's alright.
That is I think it's not too bad."
-- John Lennon; Strawberry Fields Forever

I went for a walk this afternoon. Probably the time could have been better spent had I invested my energy into working on my lawn. Or cleaning the house. But I had a lot on my mind, and needed to spend some time talking to myself.

Walking near the Susquehanna River in the summer is an adventure. The paths along its side are the same that human beings have walked for ten to twelve thousand years. I’m sure that, at different points in time, other people have walked the same trail that I was on today, trying to clear their heads. And in the future, others will do the same, looking for answers to some of the same existential questions that I asked myself today.

(The name "Susquehanna" comes from a phrase regarding the strawberry fields along its edges in Chenango County.)

At one point, I noticed the dark soil that indicates that, long ago, there was a fire pit on the first terrace above the river’s bank. Upon closer examination, I found some scarlet-colored sand stone, shattered by the fire. Inside the pit were two broken, pocked arrowheads. A hunter had no doubt had success in killing his prey; perhaps his family sat around the fire while their meal was cooked.

Upon closer examination, I found four decorated sherds of pottery, another four arrowheads, and a flint drill. The arrows were all of a type known as Levanna. They are thin, well-chipped triangular points. The pottery is from the same cultural phase; it had been decorated with a net that would have been the type used for fishing the shallow rapids of the river.

The 11 artifacts all date back to approximately 900 ad. Maybe the individual or family using them had enjoyed the warmth of the early summer’s sun, much as I did. The sounds of the river’s rapids would have been much the same, though these people would not have had the background noise of automobiles driving in the distance. Nor would they have watched an airplane in the distance, circling around a small airport that is found on a field that, in colonial times, was the site of an Iroquois village.

Whatever those people were thinking about, and perhaps discussing as they sat near the fire, are long forgotten, no matter how important a topic it may have been at the time. Likewise, the issues demanding my attention will pass, soon enough. But they are real to me today.

In mid-May, my younger son called me from a hospital in Binghamton. He and his brother were there with their mother. She had been misdiagnosed in February, and had just been told that she had cancer. Thirty days later, she died.

I’m very proud of both of our boys. They are young adults, living busy lives -- work, college, girlfriends, and all the other things that fill young men’s lives -- had cleared their schedules, and taken good care of their mother. Their two younger sisters -- mine by way of a second marriage -- had also provided much-needed support. Although the boys’ mom and I split up more than a quarter of a century ago, we were good friends in recent years; my daughters really liked her, and she enjoyed spending time with them.

The day after she died, one of my close friends had a couple of medical tests come back bad, and he is going to have open-heart surgery in a couple of days. Then, the day before the funeral, one of my siblings had troubling news, and was diagnosed with yet another serious illness.

In theory, everyone who is born will eventually die. I leave room for myself to be the exception to this, but I try to be realistic, by assuming there is at least a 50-50 chance that I will die before reaching 200 years of age. I keep in mind a Woody Allen quote: “I’m not afraid to die; I just don’t want to be there when it happens.”

After picking up the artifacts, I turned to walk back to where I had left my automobile. As I looked at the river, I thought how human beings had enjoyed an intimate relationship with it for thousands of years. Even in the time period when my childhood took place, lots of people were connected to the Susquehanna. They fished, canoed, and swam in its waters. Today, most people in my area don’t tend to notice that river, unless its waters are either extremely high or low. They see it through their car’s windows as they drive by it.

I try to make a conscious effort to take nothing for granted. Not people, not water, not anything. We are all part of a bigger cycle, involving a bigger system. At times, it is filled with pleasure; at other times, its painful. But its all part of the miracle of life. We shouldn’t take it for granted. Nor should we view it from a disconnected seat, through the false lens of the mechanical world.

Peace,
H2O Man

15 replies = new reply since forum marked as read
Highlight: NoneDon't highlight anything 5 newestHighlight 5 most recent replies
Strawberry Fields Today (Original Post) H2O Man Jun 2014 OP
thanks for writing this. really well done. mark eagledove Jun 2014 #1
Thank you. H2O Man Jun 2014 #6
Condolences to your sons alsame Jun 2014 #2
Thanks. H2O Man Jun 2014 #7
Beautiful....as always. My sympathy to you and your family. May all the memories of livetohike Jun 2014 #3
Thank you. H2O Man Jun 2014 #8
very sorry to hear of your wife's death bigtree Jun 2014 #4
Thank you! H2O Man Jun 2014 #9
Beautifully written. Frustratedlady Jun 2014 #5
Thanks. H2O Man Jun 2014 #10
We were born to die, Unknown Beatle Jun 2014 #11
I posted this song on another thread but I like it so much I will post it again. I like the way it Uncle Joe Jun 2014 #12
^ Wilms Jun 2014 #13
very nice. nt xchrom Jun 2014 #14
This morning H2O Man Jun 2014 #15

H2O Man

(73,232 posts)
7. Thanks.
Tue Jun 24, 2014, 09:25 PM
Jun 2014

She was a nurse who lived a very healthy lifestyle.

We had some adventures, her and I. A good friend and great mother.

livetohike

(22,059 posts)
3. Beautiful....as always. My sympathy to you and your family. May all the memories of
Tue Jun 24, 2014, 07:59 PM
Jun 2014

good times bring comfort and peace.

H2O Man

(73,232 posts)
8. Thank you.
Tue Jun 24, 2014, 09:29 PM
Jun 2014

That Girl was taking (emotional) care of everyone around her. Knowing her has been one of the best things about my life.

Last November, I brought my daughters to the boys' house for Thanksgiving. She and her husband were there, too, and we all had a great time. I kept thinking that pretty soon, she and I would be grandparents.

bigtree

(85,813 posts)
4. very sorry to hear of your wife's death
Tue Jun 24, 2014, 08:05 PM
Jun 2014

. . . reading your remarks, I'm reminded of how nature carries on in its determined and unrelenting way. In time, it will reclaim all of our lives to its interminable task. How very fortunate we are to be able to experience it all together.

H2O Man

(73,232 posts)
9. Thank you!
Tue Jun 24, 2014, 09:31 PM
Jun 2014

I've been going through old photo albums and boxes of pictures; I've been able to give the our sons a lot of nice old photographs from back in high school, etc. If nothing else, I've proven that their mother and I were young once -- something they didn't really believe!

Frustratedlady

(16,254 posts)
5. Beautifully written.
Tue Jun 24, 2014, 08:08 PM
Jun 2014

Condolences to you all and may those with medical challenges enjoy an uneventful recovery.

H2O Man

(73,232 posts)
10. Thanks.
Tue Jun 24, 2014, 09:34 PM
Jun 2014

I remember the first time I saw her: we were in junior high school, and I told my friends that I would marry her one day. As it turned out, one of my friends was her older brother, and he told her what I said.

It's a strange time.

Unknown Beatle

(2,671 posts)
11. We were born to die,
Wed Jun 25, 2014, 12:08 AM
Jun 2014

what we do in between is up to us. Unfortunately, some people don't have a choice. Some governments decide what people will do and not do.

Uncle Joe

(58,029 posts)
12. I posted this song on another thread but I like it so much I will post it again. I like the way it
Wed Jun 25, 2014, 12:29 AM
Jun 2014

reverses time, depicting an old couple turning young and death to birth beginning with that longing for what they/we had and which passed too quickly.




I'm sorry for your loss, H2O Man, Peace to you.

H2O Man

(73,232 posts)
15. This morning
Wed Jun 25, 2014, 07:39 AM
Jun 2014

I'm going for a walk along the banks of the Unadilla River. The stretch that I'll be walking at was known as "where the voice of this river sings." It's where, as kids, my brother and I would keep track of the late-May moon phase, and go and watch turtles lay their eggs in a gravel bank. One day, we counted 18 turtles. I suspect that their ancestors had used the same gravel bank to deposit their eggs.

From that spot, I can look straight up the mountain, to a very steep area with massive rock ledges, where I excavated a small cave over about a seven year period. I found three distinct levels of occupation: late woodland; early woodland; and late archaic. Lots of pottery, pendants, and projectile points and knives.

I'm too old to get up and down that mountain like I used to. But, last year, my friend and I climbed it. We found three nice spear points, all dating about 1,200 bc. My nicest one was about 4 inches long, without a chip out of it.

Latest Discussions»General Discussion»Strawberry Fields Today