What’s on the roster? Another supermoon, a partial lunar eclipse, Saturn doing its ring thing, and something called International Observe the Moon Night, plus more more more.
Nights are cooler, the afternoon sky is a crisp blue, and the outermost leaves of the giant maple tree across the street are tinged in red. It must be time for fall foliage predictions!
“From the standpoint of daily life, however, there is one thing we do know: that we are here for the sake of each other – above all for those upon whose smile and well-being our own happiness depends, and also for the countless unknown souls with whose fate we are connected by a bond of sympathy. Many times a day I realize how much my own outer and inner life is built upon the labors of my fellow men, both living and dead, and how earnestly I must exert myself in order to give in return as much as I have received.”
The Canadian Museum of Nature is situated in Ottawa’s Victoria Memorial Museum Building, a giant stone edifice built over a hundred years ago. Its mosaic tile floors, carved wooden bannisters and stained glass windows provide a lovely backdrop for exhibits old and new.
Can’t go in person? Here’s a brief video tour:
We started at the top, in a temporary exhibit on insects. Some icky, yes, but the longevity, creativity and adaptability of that class of creatures is fascinating.
Next stop wolves, then the Arctic, then Earth, Mammals, Water, Birds and finally, Dinosaurs.
The fossils throughout were impressive. Giant whale? Check. A complete Daspletosaurus torosus (a cousin of T. rex) skeleton? Check!
A bit of fun from a Museum palaeobiologist:
I also picked up a box of Canadian rocks to remember the beauty and complexity of the geology beneath our feet.
Example rocks include rose quartz, quartz crystal, bornite, amazonite, sodalite, pyrite, amethyst, hematite, copper, labradorite, jade, rhodonite and fluorite. Lovely.
And in the floor of the Fossil Gallery, an embedded spiral* shows the extent of geological history as we know it, complete with a tiny section at the end for the Cenozoic era, age of mammals, with an even smaller epoch at the end featuring the rise of humanity.
* I should have taken a picture of this but did not, and can’t find a picture of it online. Here’s a different version to give you an idea.
This is why I love history in general, and museums in particular. On the one hand, a long-term perspective is very good at making one feel small, but on the other hand, there is real joy in knowing that you are a part of something so very big.
The experience was both humbling and delightful.
* * *
The aforementioned spiral is at the feet of this fine fellow. D. Gordon E. Robertson, CC BY-SA 3.0 via Wikimedia Commons
“This afternoon, burn down the house. Tomorrow, pour critical water upon the simmering coals. Time enough to think and cut and rewrite tomorrow. But today-explode-fly-apart-disintegrate! The other six or seven drafts are going to be pure torture. So why not enjoy the first draft, in the hope that your joy will seek and find others in the world who, by reading your story, will catch fire, too?”
I’m toying with an idea and I can’t decide if it’s crazy or cool. Here’s a peek inside my head:
“Hey self, maybe we should try something a little bonkers.”
“Why not? Sounds fun. What do you have in mind?”
“What about writing a bunch of drabbles?”
“One-hundred word stories? We do that all the time, so sure.”
“What about writing a hundred drabbles?”
“A hundred? As in, One hundred? 100? Ten times ten? Roman numeral C?”
“Yep. Because numerical symmetry. One hundred hundred word stories.”
“I know you like challenging goals but that’s completely bonkers.”
“Yeah?”
“Absolutely. Also… pretty cool, actually. Hmm.”
So there you have it, my current writing target dilemma. A project like this would be a fun challenge but the real question is whether it would help my writing or distract me from larger projects.
What do you think, is this idea too much or not enough? Crazy? Cool? Bit of both?
So, here’s the thing: I don’t really like the Middle Ages. I feel a little bad about that because if you have a History degree it seems like you are obligated to keep an open mind about even the worst centuries, but it’s true. The Middle Ages are very much middling in my book.
Is this bias a result of the (relative) lack of historical records, the goofy headgear, or the whole Black Death, Inquisition, feudal lords fighting over tiny territories, and “Bad Times All Around” vibe that so many of those centuries have?
Well, maybe.
However! While reading an interesting article on a medieval herb garden (as one does), I realized that the era was into some of the things that I am into: the many uses of plants, bookbinding, woodturning, weaving, dyeing, and a wide variety of handmade hacks designed to moderate the vicissitudes of life. (The fantasy genre also owes a lot to that time period, and to be fair the bycocket, or Robin Hood hat, was pretty cool.)
So, yeah. It’s possible that I might have a touch of the medieval in me. Which goes to show that I shouldn’t rule out whole swaths of history, or people, or things. (Except the Plague, I continue to be very much down on pandemics. For, you know, reasons.)
So while I’m never going to be a fan of petty monarchs, famine, uncertain hygiene or strict class divisions, the next time the topic of the Middle Ages comes up, I’ll do my best to keep an open mind.
“Don’t let the fear of the time it will take to accomplish something stand in the way of your doing it. The time will pass anyway; we might just as well put that passing time to the best possible use.”
Where did my imagination take root? In a yellow-brick house on a quiet country road, filled with bright windows and built-in bookshelves containing a wide range of genres, including science fiction and fantasy.
I remember that house well, not least because a friend recently sent me a listing for it on a rental site. It was odd to see the rooms looking so empty, with none of the life that still populates my memories. Even so, it was good to visit the house again.
And to remember what it was like to look out at the old willow shading the little creek behind our house, and dream.
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