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The
Martha's Vineyard Times is a weekly publication.
May 5 - May 11, 2005 Edition
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North Road How would you finish that line? May 5, 2005 By Russell Hoxsie, M.D. The Martha's Vineyard Times once ran an invitation to write a short piece which would begin with the words: “it's a sure sign of spring when…” The following is what grew from that challenge. It's a sure sign of spring when we see all those dead rabbits on the road. A family member uttered these words as an actual matter of fact one early evening on our way home up the North Road. Light continued well enough to make out details in the front of us and into some of the fields to the north. In fact, we had seen several deer grazing up-Island from Seven Gates Farm and we slowed down to gaze at these slender graceful beasts, forgiven at moments like that for the ravage done to our garden every spring. The utterer of those words about dead rabbits on the road being a sign shocked me. She is particularly partial to our friends in nature. An evening watching “Old Yaller” or “Lassie Come Home” will reduce her shirt-front to sop and a box of tissues to empty. Despite the partiality and contrition deeply felt for any animal suffering, we continued for a time to employ at least the thrust of her remark as an augury of spring. Rabbits are not on our list of nature's favorites. In fact they displace deer as worst intruders at home because of the heartbreak of a lost jungle of tulips in April and May or the decimation of a fresh row of green beans before the tiny stalks have had a chance to grow more than three or four leaves apiece. The rabbit has become a focus for dislike for our family who will tolerate, even smile witlessly in silence at, two deer standing ears akimbo in our front yard of a morning when the rime shines on our lawn. Simply put, the distant reflection of morning's sun on Cuttyhunk and watching deer graze on our shrubs bring satisfaction that the day bears promise. Those words, when first uttered, brought gales of laughter to everyone in the car that evening, not really out of hatred for one of God's creatures, but because of the phrase's incongruity with thoughts of spring. After all, spring is the beginning of renewed life on the earth, not a reminder of needless mayhem on our highways. I'm sorry to say that the repetition of the phrase about dead rabbits in the road brought laughter for a couple of years. Not until this moment in writing down those simple words have I appreciated meaningful remorse or regret for derogating the pitiful suffering of our long-eared friends on roads crowded with automobiles from the end of June until fall. Now I read that the fishes of the seas and ponds and rivers have received attention from those worried about cruelty to all our friends of nature. And I knew a saintly lady who spent a better part of her 90 years trying to discover a more humane way to cook her favorite lobsters. Perhaps introducing them to cold water before turning the heat up was her answer. I never heard what conclusions she made. Now our phrase is hackneyed and ignored, seldom uttered, never laughed at, except for the barest shrug and exhalation of breath. The world has greened in the intervening years since that memorable North Road excursion. Yes, there are still women with twenty-twos who pop off a few rabbits that raid their gardens and more than enough hunters in the woods in December to reduce our deer herd. Yes, the beasts in the wild devour the next in line on the food chain to remain alive and, if extinction threatens a species, man and Congress rush to its rescue, which means, undoubtedly, the species will survive and continue to eat in its fashion. Perhaps in this stage of our human development all we can hope for is a spreading sensitivity to all of creation, abandon human cruelty, cease all forms of deprivation, and face the fact that we too are in the food chain, although, fortunately for the moment, quite near the top. Many may think I am thrusting a tongue-in-cheek rap at the environmental movement, and that I am at the bottom end of the green-peace movement scale. They may be excused their suspicions. I am simply living in the era in which I find myself, trying to adapt and survive myself with a long way yet to travel. |
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