Discuss: Spectral Light

Beautiful and thoughtful article, exploring the line between the way we “lefties” want the world to be and the way it is.  Last night I was at a forum here in Kampala about whether Uganda should expand sports-hunting as a wildlife management tool (all hunting was illegal here from 1979 until a pilot program began in 2001).  It is so easy to have a battle between “hunting is right” and “hunting is wrong.”  This article has challenged me to find the ground in between when I write about last night’s forum.  Thank you, Amy.

And Grant - lighten up, man.  Where do you think the cities used to be?  On the edge of wilderness.

Thoughtful and well written.  Whether we like it or not we are part of the whole.  Religion and technology have helped to disconnect us. 

It is all about balance.  When things get out of balance, nearly 7 billion people on the planet competing for habitat with other species, there is going to be conflict.  The key I believe are the 3Rs, respect, responsibility and reciprocity. 

There is a big difference between recreational killing, which is neither sporting, not manly and hunting to feed one’s family or protect one’s property.  I happen to be a vegetarian, a former wilderness survival instructor, who also manages ranch land.  I own guns and have with regret shot and killed varmints that have eaten my garden. Living a bit on the edge, I always try to first figure out how to protect that which I have brought into the mix rather than take out the wildlife that naturally assumes what is here is fair game.  It has worked pretty well.  It is a constantly changing dance and I have to adjust as does the wildlife.

Armed with an AK-47, in the shape of my Rottweiler, together we existed in that magic place between predator and prey. The definition was in the eye of the beholder.
Walking with her in the urbanhoods of Denver, a gang banger would see me as
prey.  Not noticing that I had the lead wrapped around my waste twice: that I had leather gloves on, with the rest of the lead wrapped around my wrist: blocking our way. My comment: “Please move. I would really hate to let go.” They moved.
Who was the predator and prey? Magic moments.
Moving to the desert in southeastern Utah.  I introduced her to the desert. Oh, how she loved the desert. I didn’t know how much until she did the unthinkable. My AK-47 in the shape of my Rottweiler, ran away into the desert. To me, she was this sweet baby girl, to the ranchers around, she became fair game. She was considered as much of a predator as a coyote, to their sheep and cattle.  Her sentence assured - no questions asked.  In her joy of freedom, she became predator of their prey - in the eye of the beholder. I will never know what she was up to when she ran away. Those were her magic moments!