A Zoo Visit, Flower Farms, and How to Have Optimism in Hard Times (for Us, and for the Arts)

McMurtrey’s Flowers with late sun

Flower Farms and August Slips Away

It’s the time when every day that’s not too hot and too smoke-filled has to be celebrated before, in Taylor Swift’s immortal words, it “slips away like a bottle of wine.” So we took a trip to our local u-pic flower farm, McMurtrey’s, and gathered a big bouquet of sunflower, dahlias, and zinnias, and a trip to the zoo, among other things. Tonight we’re going back to Bob’s Corn and Pumpkin Farm. I’ve gotten overheated and probably breathed too much smoke in the process for an asthmatic, but it just feels like we need to get out while we can.

Lion cub and dozing mother at Woodland Park Zoo

Zoo Visit to Woodland Park Zoo

Our first visit to the Woodland Park Zoo in some time, and there were a lot of changes! There is now a raised walkway through a forest-dwelling center, with bigger enclosures for the red panda and a new red tree kangaroo. There’s a new Pallas Cat, which did not appear, two new lion cubs, a baby giraffe, and not new but seasonal, the butterfly house. So, we spent more time than usual and really had a good time. I’m a little jealous of the Cincinnati Zoo, which just got a new fennec fox baby.

Glenn and I in the Zoo’s rose garden, pink roses

How to Have Optimism in Hard Times (for Ourselves and the Arts)

I had the privilege of spending time this week with a couple of younger poets, and one of the subjects was the feelings of despair and anxiety these times have brought on, for ourselves as women and individuals, for America, specifically for the arts in America and the environment. I was born in a pessimistic decade, when the economy, the music, the fashion, the President—basically everything sucked. (The brown and orange polyester alone gives me PSTD.) When I was born, people were standing in line at gas stations. Stagflation had arrived, with its high unemployment. We were just getting out of an unpopular war. The year I was born, Roe v. Wade was decided, and with it, a sigh of relief for women’s rights. Flash forward to now—gas is crazy expensive, interest rates are up, Roe v. Wade was repealed leaving women having miscarriages to be imprisoned (depending on your state’s level of crazy), jobs are getting harder to find (especially ones NOT training AI to replace humans), our President sucks, and the music and fashion are okay but remind me vaguely of the more optimistic decade, the nineties. As someone who has experienced more than five decades, I will say that this will not last forever, and though it feels like the end times now, things can get better.

Not without everyone’s help, of course. People need to take the lead in voicing courage, support of women, the arts, and the environment, creating new jobs and demanding better support for science and medicine. We can vote and use our dollars not to support billionaires (ahem, Bezos and Musk) or corrupt politicians. We can also use hope as a weapon—to envision a better future is an act of rebellion against what currently is. It’s what science fiction writers like Octavia Butler dared to do decades ago—the Parable of the Sower, for instance, imagined a world that empowered empathy, love of nature, and cooperation. We can memorize poems, buy books and art, patronize museums and libraries, refuse to give in to the people that say National Parks, Poetry, and Art are worthless (the current administration, for instance). Did you know America spends the least on the arts per capita compared to the rest of the world? Here’s the breakdown:

Federal, state, and local governments in the U.S. combine to spend roughly $7 per capita annually on the arts, compared to $47 in Japan, over $50 in China and Australia, and upwards of $218 to $246+ per person across the United Kingdom and Western/Northern Europe.” (latentviews.substack.com)

When governments spend more on the arts, not only do artists benefit, but the community, and it actually creates jobs! (Check out Ireland’s experiment giving money to artists in the last few years.) We need to not just ask for, but demand better of our local, state and federal governments on protecting air and water, the rights of women and children and immigrants, the support for scientific study and the arts. We need to get louder about this, not give up. Because things can change rapidly. Hope can start out of small local attention and grow. I’m not giving up, and I’m still working in perhaps the most American-despised art form, the poem. I still plant flowers and trees, and donate to causes that protect animals, trees, women, and yes, poetry. I’m not making much money but even a small amount counts. Not becoming paralyzed by fear and anxiety—which is what oppressive governments and billionaires would like for us, in order to continue doing evil on the planet—is imperative. 

Anyway, September, a month of new beginnings, is almost here. I have felt an almost unreasonable optimism ever since the day of the solar eclipse (solar weather absolutely has an impact on my mental health, what about yours?) What can you hope for that feels almost unreasonable—a better relationship, a better job, better health, more safety and joy for you and your loved ones? Maybe there are small steps right in front of you that will lead to a better future. I’m just one woman (an over-fifty, disabled one at that) but I do feel like better times are ahead, as long as we take action and don’t give up. There’s a Buffy quote I love: Anya (as the vengeance demon Anyanka) says, “You trusting fool! How do you know the other world is any better than this?” Rupert Giles replies, “Because it has to be.” My other favorite quote is, in the time of pagers, “If the apocalypse comes, beep me!”

Anyway, envisioning the world you want isn’t just the mantra of phonies trying to sell you phony manifestations—it is really a first step in making the world into what you want. Hope is powerful, even more powerful than hate.