Earth Day and roots in North Idaho
Earth Day — the first — was April 22, 1970. All of us girls — finishing our senior year in high school — remember it for one supreme reason. We could leave the skirts and dresses at home, and wear jeans to school. That scandal was so successful that more than leaves changed in the fall. The new school dress code allowed girls to wear pants.
It seems natural on Earth Day to get out and enjoy nature. My daughter, visiting from the Big City, and I did that the day after — exploring the Kootenai National Wildlife Refuge last Sunday. A short hike led us to Myrtle Falls. I have no idea if this beautiful tiered cascading waterfall is named for a woman, or the tree — which is more a Mediterranean species. If a person, then I'd love to have known her.
We drove the five-mile tour loop along a portion of the vast open valley, circled by the Selkirk Mountains. No animals — but birds galore. We spotted a great blue heron, geese and swans, a bald eagle, hawks, and a bright mountain bluebird atop his nesting box.
The bluebird sighting was especially significant. This girl of ours eloped over twenty years ago — marrying at the airport boarding gate before catching a honeymoon flight. At home in the same city — at this unknown life “altering” moment — I saw my first eastern bluebird. It was such a reason for wonder that I took the time to be still and open my heart to joy.
After I learned of the impulsive wedding — and how her dad and I were “uninvited” — the bluebird moment was the next best thing to having been there. I gifted our daughter an art piece with the quote, “May you follow fellow dreamers, and may the bluebird follow you.”
Just as the earth doesn't spin without upheaval, so does a life together. The airport marriage ultimately didn't work out — and our girl is presently negotiating an amicable split. She's still following dreams — and needs the bluebird more than ever.
Being in nature is healing. I often think of the Bible's declaration that God has revealed Himself in what He has made. Knowingly — or unknowingly — that's the draw to get out there and touch the earth. There is a connection that transcends human ingenuity — a reason to treat it with respect.
On the wet drive back from Bonners Ferry we saw two herds of elk in fields — and almost home, near the road, a quartet of these regal creatures. Our daughter missed an Earth Day birthday by one day — but this year we rotated it so we had both. It was a wonderful double celebration.
Those Earth Day roots took hold in her early. She's out in nature as often as she can be. Idaho “skinny” — the northern Panhandle — is fat with earth's offerings. They are backyard close.
April 22, 1970 — 53 years ago — might have been Senator Nelson's idea of an inaugural Earth Day. But I have a different take on that. I believe the celebration — and care — for this stunning earth began much earlier. All the way back to ”In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth.”