Worked stones and Native American grinding stones.
An old well house
Cairns made of field stones (some covered in grapevines):
Old stone walled pig pen, with modern corrugated metal shack (predators were kept at bay with shotguns):
Thursday, May 28, 2009
This Land
This farm has pieces of its history scattered all over itself!
Worked stones and Native American grinding stones.
Worked stones and Native American grinding stones.
Heat
Soon we'll be looking for the cold spots in the pond. We were hot today in the field. It was strangely nice to be relatively still on the ground and finger weeding all day, though the ground itself was hot. We talked of thermoses of iced lemon water, and using ice cube trays to make popsicles on cherries from the cherry tree. As if our fantasies were coming to life, Elena brought us strawberry popsicles at a crucial point in the afternoon. At lunch time, we saw a flock of cranes spinning up and up and up on the air currents rising from the valley, taking advantage of the warm day's flow to boost their migration effortlessly and gracefully.
Local Food
We've been eating a lot of local food! We've been able to harvest strawberries from the rows that were left from last year's crop, which Allan has reserved for our own use! We brought those and some home-madebread to a farm-and-community pot luck. We're all aspiring bakers, so we've been eating exclusively our own bread, and soon we'll get our share of local flour from a guy who grows and grinds his own grains. We had some folks from Living Lands Agrarian Network over for a pond swim and potluck on Friday night, and they came arms overflowing with fresh salad greens, while we provided mint for the mojitos and herbs for the beans. This week we also found some wild cress, called Upland cress,
which we ate one lunchtime in a delicious salad with some Miner's lettuce thrown in, and another time with some sauteed foraged mushrooms. We're doing our best to appreciate and use what is growing around us while we wait for the main veggies to come in -- which is much more interesting when sharing and trading with friends. We've made a lot of food with goat whey that Living Lands folks have given us, left overfrom their own goat cheese making. We've used it for oatmeal, bread, and soaking beans. It's fresh and healthy and full of good protein.
Last week we feasted on a wild goose they had shot with a bow and arrow at Riverhill. We've also been making really delicious herbal teas - lots of mint tea, and also thyme-lavender-fennel frond tea, which changed from light purple to a hot pink when we added lemon. We've been
using a lot of allium scapes (the flower heads) - fried in a light tempura batter was phenomenal!Planting update: last week we planted peppers, more cukes, more potatoes, jerusalem artichoke, melons, collards, salad mix, more carrots. This week we (almost) finished planting potatoes, and we planted a sea of tomatoes.
Tomatoes, just getting started:
Sorting rotting Jerusalem artichokes:
Saturday, May 16, 2009
The Lower Pond
It's getting hot in these foothills! Upper 90's this weekend and into next week, and this is only a taste of the heat to come. Luckily, we have an oasis, and we all jumped in this week. There are two ponds on the Riverhill property, an upper and lower. The lower is big, fresh, and deep, with appropriate diving and sunning rocks surrounding it. There's a large raft, too, that our young black labrador Simon likes to share with the crew. It's a beautiful spot, cleansing the body and invigorating the spirit! It's amazing how good it feels at the end of a long day in the field. Yee-haw!!!
Cultivating, Trellising, Irrigating, Seeding, and Transplanting!
We're getting the vegetables in the ground! Since last Friday, when the ground was finally dry enough to till and prepare beds, we've seeded or transplanted the following:
Cucumbers
Sunflowers
Basil
Zuchini and yellow zuchini
Tomatoes (Early Girls)
Bush beans
Raspberries
Eggplant
Peppers
Potatoes
Kale
Chard
Carrots
Turnips
Cabbage
For each of these crops, of course, we've prepared the beds and set up the irrigation system. This involves tilling and amending the soil (which Allan does on his tractor, but can be done on a walk-
behind tiller); calculating and planning the lay-out of the rows and aisles for the crop (which crop should go here? how much and what kind of space does this plant need to grow? what kind of space is required for harvesting? what orientation should we lay these beds to achieve a flat row for irrigating?); preparing the beds appropriately (staking and running string to mark the rows and aisles, raking the beds (or digging the trenches, for raspberries and potatoes), or building trellis or stake systems for the plants to climb; and laying down the irrigation.
Cucumbers
Sunflowers
Basil
Zuchini and yellow zuchini
Tomatoes (Early Girls)
Bush beans
Raspberries
Eggplant
Peppers
Potatoes
Kale
Chard
Carrots
Turnips
Cabbage
For each of these crops, of course, we've prepared the beds and set up the irrigation system. This involves tilling and amending the soil (which Allan does on his tractor, but can be done on a walk-
behind tiller); calculating and planning the lay-out of the rows and aisles for the crop (which crop should go here? how much and what kind of space does this plant need to grow? what kind of space is required for harvesting? what orientation should we lay these beds to achieve a flat row for irrigating?); preparing the beds appropriately (staking and running string to mark the rows and aisles, raking the beds (or digging the trenches, for raspberries and potatoes), or building trellis or stake systems for the plants to climb; and laying down the irrigation. 
The irrigation system is set up by measuring and cutting and fitting 3/4-inch polytube to 2-inch T-shaped risers that attach two valves (with pressure reducers) to underground PVC piping. The polytube runs down the end of the bed, and drip tape is attached to this polytube and then run down each row. Stake everything in place, flush the system, and then drip drip drip! The irrigation system is fed from three large tanks sitting at the top of the farm property, into which water is pumped every evening from the well. During the day, though, the entire system is fed by the pressure of gravity only.
Once the beds are prepared, we can set our seeds, or plant our little transplants, which had been started in the greenhouse. The seeds are awesome: each one stores all information it needs, so that the seed "knows what to do" as Allan put it. We simply give it the environment it craves, (as best we can figure) and off it goes! In a matter of weeks, we'll be able to harvest its leaves or, a little later, its fruit!
Other tasks this past week: We've continued to cultivate the alliums and strawberries, trimming flower heads (and runners on the strawberries) so that the energy from the sun and the soil will continue to go into filling out the plant (for better production later), and of course weeding to reduce competition for nutrients and sun. We dug trenches for the 400 raspberry bushes we planted (our beautiful stick garden, we call it, as right now it looks like a bunch of twigs in the ground.) We built a re-bar trellis for the cucumbers to climb, and posted six-foot metal stakes to which we'll attach horizontal strings as the tomatoes grab and grow.
Talked more about building a chicken coop - a project slated for next weekend. The plan is to get around 20 chickens, enough to have a couple dozen eggs a week to supplement the veggie harvest.
Only a few more weeks until we can eat from the farm!
Once the beds are prepared, we can set our seeds, or plant our little transplants, which had been started in the greenhouse. The seeds are awesome: each one stores all information it needs, so that the seed "knows what to do" as Allan put it. We simply give it the environment it craves, (as best we can figure) and off it goes! In a matter of weeks, we'll be able to harvest its leaves or, a little later, its fruit!
Other tasks this past week: We've continued to cultivate the alliums and strawberries, trimming flower heads (and runners on the strawberries) so that the energy from the sun and the soil will continue to go into filling out the plant (for better production later), and of course weeding to reduce competition for nutrients and sun. We dug trenches for the 400 raspberry bushes we planted (our beautiful stick garden, we call it, as right now it looks like a bunch of twigs in the ground.) We built a re-bar trellis for the cucumbers to climb, and posted six-foot metal stakes to which we'll attach horizontal strings as the tomatoes grab and grow.
Talked more about building a chicken coop - a project slated for next weekend. The plan is to get around 20 chickens, enough to have a couple dozen eggs a week to supplement the veggie harvest.
Only a few more weeks until we can eat from the farm!
Saturday, May 9, 2009
Artist Scientist Human Being
It was hard to leave the farm Friday night. I quickly got used to the tranquility of the place, and I'm sure I'm not alone in that. The serenity is a part of what we all were seeking when we signed on for the season, I'm sure, both as an end in itself and as a suitable environment for personal projects beyond learning to farm. One of the interns, a chef, seeks inspiration for moonlight farm dinners he'll create every month for CSA subscribers and others. I seek a clarity of mind that will allow me to be creative and open in practicing my writing... not really sure where it will take me, but appreciating the process itself. 
Every other Wednesday night throughout the summer Alan, Jo, his children if they are able, and the interns will share a family meal and explore a reading or question relating, in an open way, to the basic question of Why We Farm. This first week, Alan posed the question: Is farming art, or science? We discussed the ways in which farming is creative, intuitive, an aesthetic endeavor, and a medium for the farmer to express an idea -- all ways in which farming is an artistic process. At the same time, farming relies crucially on detailed observation, knowledge of chemical and physical processes, experimentation, and an effort to control certain environmental variables in support of optimum conditions for growth. There was a discomfort among some with calling farming a science, though, a visceral reaction against associating what we are doing at River Hill with the efforts to control the growing environment, the genetic manipulation of seed, and the hubristic attitude of the leaders of, say, Monsanto: if what they are doing is science, then we must insist that what we're doing is art! But of course, this would be both to deny the aspects of investigation and discovery in the practice of farming that gives it a natural scientific character, and also to concede that Monsanto's mission is an exemplar of what we want to call scientific practice. This would be inaccurate on both counts. Monsanto's motive is profit, and though the corporation utilizes scientific research and information it is in the service of this profit motive. The guiding values of business don't necessarily mirror the guiding values of scientific practice. There may be a good reason for Monsanto to believe that all environmental variables are controllable and all scientific laws are codifiable and exceptionless: this underwrites their product design and marketing campaigns. But must all scientific practice be guided by this idea of recovering necessary laws? Do all scientists believe that, if they can uncover just one more variable then they'll have discovered the exceptionless generalization that is the sole objective of scientific research? Must we believe that, unless it is exceptionless there is no explanatary value in a generalization, 'This causes That'?
Around the dinner table, we all wanted not to betray what we were calling the 'magic' in nature, or what was historically called 'God,' by adopting an attitude of arrogance in the face of the complexity of our medium. In graduate school, I defended what we called 'defeasible generalizations' as legitimate and explanatory laws in science: 'A fish egg becomes a fish' is true, even though most fish eggs fail to develop according to this natural tendency (they're eaten, or crushed, or dried up). There is a reductionist impulse within the scientific community, for sure; population biology is more respected by some than natural science, for populations of organisms are, it seems, more predictable than any one individual, and the move to a higher level of organization is prompted by a search for 'invariance' in scientific pronouncements. I've argued that this search is futile and defeasible generalizations are everywhere. And that this is perfectly acceptable and extraordinarily valuable science. We can have our 'magic' and work with it, too.
The ancient philosophers were biologists, and physicists, and mathematicians, and psychologists, and political engineers, and poets all at once. The conceptual division between artistic and scientific practice was blurry, and I think this is just fine, if you can live in the gray. Philosophers love the Idea and the Ideal. Ideals are beautiful, and human beings are attracted to beauty. My attraction to them is a deep and powerful force in my life. The ideal of love, for example, is one I've wrestled with over the years. When my love for a past boyfriend wasn't enough to make our relationship a healthy one, given different approaches to life and my relative immaturity in matters of relationship, I was wrenched to the core. I spent a lot of time blaming myself for my selfishness, hating myself for the weakness that I believed marred the beauty of love itself. Everyone deserves love and care and affection and understanding. But of course, to believe that sacrificing my own happiness in the service of loving someone else manifests an ideal of love is simply immature. This is one way of falling from an ideal, involving a misunderstanding of it -- narrow, shallow, or flawed.
Another way we can fall from an ideal stems from our entrenchment in a broader system that distorts it or makes it impossible to achieve. Many ideals are community ideals, realizable only by many of us working or living together in a certain way, with particular attitudes, and common aspirations. To bring this back to farming: the dream some of us share at River Hill is not merely scientific, nor exclusively artistic, but wholly human: it's a particular vision of the good life for human beings, lived in association with and respect for the non-human world, in appreciation of its beauty, and with gratitude for its nourishment. These attitudes of appreciation and gratitude and respect inform and shape all that we do on the farm -- the way we work the soil, our attention to the intracacies of the ecology within which thrive our vegetables and our selves, our exploration of the ways of nourishing our bodies and spirits and minds to the deepest level through food, friendship, art, physical activity... and a wonder- and awe-filled gaze towards the magnificent -- and magical -- earth that sustains us.
Why do we farm? To live as closely as possible to a certain ideal of human life, a life that actualizes all our human capacities to their fullest, and in a beautiful way. Is this an 'opting out' of the society whose ills we criticize? How much are we making a difference by living a life guided by an ideal? Humans are attracted to the beautiful, and to manifest this beauty is one step in the larger project of consciousness raising for sure. But to wrestle with or influence the field of broader society's real life options within a political and cultural and economic system that's grown up piece by piece -- and guided by disparate and conflicting values -- is another part of the puzzle. The puzzle is immensely complex and multi-faceted, like ourselves, and like our earth. Deciphering this puzzle is an endeavor, I'm sure, both artistic and scientific.
Every other Wednesday night throughout the summer Alan, Jo, his children if they are able, and the interns will share a family meal and explore a reading or question relating, in an open way, to the basic question of Why We Farm. This first week, Alan posed the question: Is farming art, or science? We discussed the ways in which farming is creative, intuitive, an aesthetic endeavor, and a medium for the farmer to express an idea -- all ways in which farming is an artistic process. At the same time, farming relies crucially on detailed observation, knowledge of chemical and physical processes, experimentation, and an effort to control certain environmental variables in support of optimum conditions for growth. There was a discomfort among some with calling farming a science, though, a visceral reaction against associating what we are doing at River Hill with the efforts to control the growing environment, the genetic manipulation of seed, and the hubristic attitude of the leaders of, say, Monsanto: if what they are doing is science, then we must insist that what we're doing is art! But of course, this would be both to deny the aspects of investigation and discovery in the practice of farming that gives it a natural scientific character, and also to concede that Monsanto's mission is an exemplar of what we want to call scientific practice. This would be inaccurate on both counts. Monsanto's motive is profit, and though the corporation utilizes scientific research and information it is in the service of this profit motive. The guiding values of business don't necessarily mirror the guiding values of scientific practice. There may be a good reason for Monsanto to believe that all environmental variables are controllable and all scientific laws are codifiable and exceptionless: this underwrites their product design and marketing campaigns. But must all scientific practice be guided by this idea of recovering necessary laws? Do all scientists believe that, if they can uncover just one more variable then they'll have discovered the exceptionless generalization that is the sole objective of scientific research? Must we believe that, unless it is exceptionless there is no explanatary value in a generalization, 'This causes That'? Around the dinner table, we all wanted not to betray what we were calling the 'magic' in nature, or what was historically called 'God,' by adopting an attitude of arrogance in the face of the complexity of our medium. In graduate school, I defended what we called 'defeasible generalizations' as legitimate and explanatory laws in science: 'A fish egg becomes a fish' is true, even though most fish eggs fail to develop according to this natural tendency (they're eaten, or crushed, or dried up). There is a reductionist impulse within the scientific community, for sure; population biology is more respected by some than natural science, for populations of organisms are, it seems, more predictable than any one individual, and the move to a higher level of organization is prompted by a search for 'invariance' in scientific pronouncements. I've argued that this search is futile and defeasible generalizations are everywhere. And that this is perfectly acceptable and extraordinarily valuable science. We can have our 'magic' and work with it, too.The ancient philosophers were biologists, and physicists, and mathematicians, and psychologists, and political engineers, and poets all at once. The conceptual division between artistic and scientific practice was blurry, and I think this is just fine, if you can live in the gray. Philosophers love the Idea and the Ideal. Ideals are beautiful, and human beings are attracted to beauty. My attraction to them is a deep and powerful force in my life. The ideal of love, for example, is one I've wrestled with over the years. When my love for a past boyfriend wasn't enough to make our relationship a healthy one, given different approaches to life and my relative immaturity in matters of relationship, I was wrenched to the core. I spent a lot of time blaming myself for my selfishness, hating myself for the weakness that I believed marred the beauty of love itself. Everyone deserves love and care and affection and understanding. But of course, to believe that sacrificing my own happiness in the service of loving someone else manifests an ideal of love is simply immature. This is one way of falling from an ideal, involving a misunderstanding of it -- narrow, shallow, or flawed.
Another way we can fall from an ideal stems from our entrenchment in a broader system that distorts it or makes it impossible to achieve. Many ideals are community ideals, realizable only by many of us working or living together in a certain way, with particular attitudes, and common aspirations. To bring this back to farming: the dream some of us share at River Hill is not merely scientific, nor exclusively artistic, but wholly human: it's a particular vision of the good life for human beings, lived in association with and respect for the non-human world, in appreciation of its beauty, and with gratitude for its nourishment. These attitudes of appreciation and gratitude and respect inform and shape all that we do on the farm -- the way we work the soil, our attention to the intracacies of the ecology within which thrive our vegetables and our selves, our exploration of the ways of nourishing our bodies and spirits and minds to the deepest level through food, friendship, art, physical activity... and a wonder- and awe-filled gaze towards the magnificent -- and magical -- earth that sustains us.
Why do we farm? To live as closely as possible to a certain ideal of human life, a life that actualizes all our human capacities to their fullest, and in a beautiful way. Is this an 'opting out' of the society whose ills we criticize? How much are we making a difference by living a life guided by an ideal? Humans are attracted to the beautiful, and to manifest this beauty is one step in the larger project of consciousness raising for sure. But to wrestle with or influence the field of broader society's real life options within a political and cultural and economic system that's grown up piece by piece -- and guided by disparate and conflicting values -- is another part of the puzzle. The puzzle is immensely complex and multi-faceted, like ourselves, and like our earth. Deciphering this puzzle is an endeavor, I'm sure, both artistic and scientific.
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
Love Song
There was music on the farm today. My first brush through this magic, but just another manifestation of it at Riverhill... with new characters. The musical talent was eager and open, and we got the first glimmer of what this will grow into: something to anchor our experience in the spirit and the light of the place. Something timeless.
I wish my love were here with me.
I wish my love were here with me.
Monday, May 4, 2009
Liberating Alliums
First day of work, and in the morning we liberated alliums! Not the whole patch yet -- the onions and shallots and garlic were planted last fall and the weeds were prolific to say the least. Having a crew of four to five working on them was essential, and we 
only made it through about two and a half sections of four rows each in about four hours.
only made it through about two and a half sections of four rows each in about four hours. It's been stressed that body mechanics is key, and I thought of that today: think yoga poses, think core strength, think comfortable, think changing position frequently.... but at the same time, don't think too much at all. That is, don't think too much about the enormity of the task or the pain in your back: the anxious mind nourishes distress. Instead, focus on the purpose of the task. We were liberating those shallots from the encroachment of nutrient-robbing, water-hoarding, sun-hogging weeds! We were giving these plants their light and their life! We were encouraging the growth of some 15,000 alliums for the culinary benefit of our 130 CSA members and their loved ones, who need this essential for a season's worth of home-cooked nourishment! Suddenly, it was time for lunch.
The day went speedily, with an extensive tour of the farm in the afternoon. As we walked the perimeter of the farmstead, Alan described to us not only the agricultural, but also the historical, archaeological, and the ecological aspects of the land. One of the things that drew me to work for Alan this summer is his and his wife Jo's deep respect for the land and its creatures. They do so much to honor their environment and a sense of place, going way beyond the dictates of organic farming and tight purse-strings. Multiple layers of water conservation, erosion control and protection of surrounding waterways; habitat development and the encouragement of a diversity of animal life on the farm; the protection of meaningful historical structures throughout the fields such as stunning field stone cairns and Native American grinding stones --- all these details are given as much care and attention as the growing of quality vegetables and woven seamlessly into the aesthetic and the spirit of River Hill. Seamlessly, though not effortlessly, and the time and energy devoted to these aspects is impressive, given the inherent challenge of farming itself. Perhaps most admirable is that this stewardship of the land is not an afterthought, or an optional add-on, or a 'value-added' to the image of the farm, but rather (as it seems to me) the only way Alan and Jo know how to relate to the land that surrounds them, the land for which they've taken responsibility. I now share the responsibility for River Hill Farm, and this brings me joy.
The day went speedily, with an extensive tour of the farm in the afternoon. As we walked the perimeter of the farmstead, Alan described to us not only the agricultural, but also the historical, archaeological, and the ecological aspects of the land. One of the things that drew me to work for Alan this summer is his and his wife Jo's deep respect for the land and its creatures. They do so much to honor their environment and a sense of place, going way beyond the dictates of organic farming and tight purse-strings. Multiple layers of water conservation, erosion control and protection of surrounding waterways; habitat development and the encouragement of a diversity of animal life on the farm; the protection of meaningful historical structures throughout the fields such as stunning field stone cairns and Native American grinding stones --- all these details are given as much care and attention as the growing of quality vegetables and woven seamlessly into the aesthetic and the spirit of River Hill. Seamlessly, though not effortlessly, and the time and energy devoted to these aspects is impressive, given the inherent challenge of farming itself. Perhaps most admirable is that this stewardship of the land is not an afterthought, or an optional add-on, or a 'value-added' to the image of the farm, but rather (as it seems to me) the only way Alan and Jo know how to relate to the land that surrounds them, the land for which they've taken responsibility. I now share the responsibility for River Hill Farm, and this brings me joy.
Saturday, May 2, 2009
First Day on the Farm
First day. Loneliness
as I drive to the farm, but
as I drive to the farm, but
peace as i retire.
I am writing this as i go to bed, belly full of soup and freshly baked bread, excited for the summer. The crickets and frogs are singing outside the screened window. I can't wait to hear the birds chirping in the morning.
This place is beautiful and calm. I'm taking in a little at a time - today, getting settled in my cabin-style room, organizing the interns' kitchen, and playing with the dogs. Tomorrow, I'll explore the property - wander down by the pond, roam the tilled fields imagining what soon will be, search for the fruit trees. And then I'll explore the area a bit by taking a hike by the river and later going to a community movie night at the old theater in town. The interns are wonderful. I can tell there is so much to learn about and from them. They will be fine people to work beside.
In addition to growing beautiful vegetables, we've got building projects this summer! A mobile chicken coop, a rack for drying tomatoes in the sun, and a hoop house. There was talk around the kitchen table tonight of fermenting, and canning, and mushrooms, and cheese-making, and baking bread... so much we can and will do. This is it. This is my soul lifting. This is my character strengthening. This is my self expanding. This is my love spilling out upon the world.
This place is beautiful and calm. I'm taking in a little at a time - today, getting settled in my cabin-style room, organizing the interns' kitchen, and playing with the dogs. Tomorrow, I'll explore the property - wander down by the pond, roam the tilled fields imagining what soon will be, search for the fruit trees. And then I'll explore the area a bit by taking a hike by the river and later going to a community movie night at the old theater in town. The interns are wonderful. I can tell there is so much to learn about and from them. They will be fine people to work beside.
In addition to growing beautiful vegetables, we've got building projects this summer! A mobile chicken coop, a rack for drying tomatoes in the sun, and a hoop house. There was talk around the kitchen table tonight of fermenting, and canning, and mushrooms, and cheese-making, and baking bread... so much we can and will do. This is it. This is my soul lifting. This is my character strengthening. This is my self expanding. This is my love spilling out upon the world.
Friday, May 1, 2009
May Day
One day before heading out to the farm. I'm excited to meet the crew I'll be working with for the next five months, to hear their stories and their dreams, and to begin glimpsing a view of the world and our project from their unique perspective, expanding and deepening my own understanding of what I am undertaking. Everyone I've had the privilege to spend quality time with has enriched me in a new way, and I am grateful to all those with whom I've crossed paths. The time in the field this summer, I'm sure, will be quality. And so I look forward to sharing this path through River Hill Farm.
My intention in writing this blog is maintain a relatively heightened level of awareness in what I am learning and doing, as well as a focus on the 'why,' for me, now. The blog is one tool to keep me grounded... and by that I mean firmly rooted in my present experience. This doesn't mean I won't think or write about my past or future; rather, it means I'll live the present in the fullness of who I am today, one who is rich in history and in love and in optimism.
Today is May Day, whose two most significant celebratory themes are joy and gratitude for the fertility of spring, and honor for the historical fight for workers' justice. I'll fold the spirit of this day into myself and my life, that I may show respect for both the importance of work/play balance in the social well-being of all people, and the vital role of nature's abundance in the physical well-being -- or rather, existence -- of we human beings, as of all the beautiful creatures on earth.
My intention in writing this blog is maintain a relatively heightened level of awareness in what I am learning and doing, as well as a focus on the 'why,' for me, now. The blog is one tool to keep me grounded... and by that I mean firmly rooted in my present experience. This doesn't mean I won't think or write about my past or future; rather, it means I'll live the present in the fullness of who I am today, one who is rich in history and in love and in optimism.
Today is May Day, whose two most significant celebratory themes are joy and gratitude for the fertility of spring, and honor for the historical fight for workers' justice. I'll fold the spirit of this day into myself and my life, that I may show respect for both the importance of work/play balance in the social well-being of all people, and the vital role of nature's abundance in the physical well-being -- or rather, existence -- of we human beings, as of all the beautiful creatures on earth.
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