“It was so cold today that I saw a dog chasing a cat, and the dog was walking.”
(Mickey Rivers)

  

November’s chilly promises have begun to fulfill themselves in earnest now, though I admit taking great delight in the fact that they are not yet accompanied by the rains that force that chill right down into one’s bones.  Instead, I simply freeze my fingers off standing outside in a most welcome frequence of low, brilliant sunshine; understanding why the squirrels flop on high, leafless branches as the warming rays soak into my layers of clothing.   There is certainly no SAD (Seasonal Affective Disorder) here; indeed, more days than not have held a goodly measure of simple happiness as we all go about the business of continuing our preparations for winter.

The bare trees now afford a different and better view of the hawks that hang out in the ‘hood.  We can often spot them a block or more away and Matilda’s big honking lens is able to snag evidence of their presence.  Such distance pushes Matilda to her limits, to be sure, and while I will actually walk down the block to get the best shots when the light is clear, I like the challenge of picking them out from their hiding places.  This red-tail was out assessing the prey situation from a backyard tree of a house on the block behind us, maybe 400 feet away and about 50 feet up.  The light was grey and flat under snow-bound skies and I hope I never get used to being able to get such really good glimpses of what they do way up there:

 

This beauty was shot on one of those short walks early last week.  The overcast morning sky had begun to break up into moments of clear blue, giving the brightness and clarity needed to show off the exquisite detail of these agile predators.  We suspect this Cooper had already managed to snag a good breakfast for it sat on this perch for literally all the midday hours; unfortunately the temperatures were too cold for me to sit with it and wait to try to take an in-flight shot.

 

Of course the most hilarious posturing by the Coop would occur when the gusty winds had blown that wonderful light back to almost complete grey again:

 

All wildlife takes weather pretty much in stride, but it was so frosty the other morning, even the furballs showed visible signs of protest:

 

This little one stands out because it is becoming more obvious each day that it isn’t feeling all that well (and damage to its ears an outward clue something is going on).  I’ve started the serious, reinforcement feedings and hope it’s one of Eleanor’s kids, for then it should continue to show up and so do ok.  Logic doesn’t completely alleviate worry, though, so I’ll be out doing daily spotting even more diligently than is the norm.

While all the squirrels are busiest this time of year and so afford the most “personality” kind of photo ops, the pine squirrels have become a particular source of amusement.  At almost any time of day, Pipsqueak or her kids or sometimes what appears to be all of them are darting around the backyard, commandeering the feeder at every opportunity and spending inordinate amounts of time chasing the larger squirrels out of the yard altogether.  The other day, this little one was especially obnoxious, going to far as to get into it with Pipsqueak her Self, who promptly pulled rank and gave such a scolding the young piney slunk off to the top of the fence to sit in penance:

 

I think most every one of us knows exactly how it felt…!

“Home is a name, a word, it is a strong one; stronger than magician ever spoke, or spirit ever answered to, in the strongest conjuration.”
(Charles Dickens)

 

I enjoy traveling.  Seeing new places, new faces; getting away from the daily grind here and dipping my figurative toes into a new pond.  It’s energizing, and it’s fun. 

Really.

But I love the quote above; home is, indeed, where my heart is and it felt so good to get up this morning after a desperately-needed full-night’s sleep and be able to spend a few, freezing minutes out in the backyard.  Bob had spotted the Cooper’s hawk when it positioned itself in the big maple tree next door – prime photo op even in the snow-impending gloom, but by the time we hastily unpacked Matilda it had happily shaken its tail and flown off.

Much to my surprise and a little to my chagrin, when I walked outside to see if perhaps the Cooper’s had merely flown into one of the trees in a nearby yard I realized that I’d missed an even richer photo op.  Apparently one of the numerous pigeons had been the Cooper’s breakfast, but I hadn’t seen it when I’d looked outside earlier because the hawk had taken its unhappy meal just out of the line of sight from the back door.  If I’d had the sense to actually step outside when I’d made my backyard activity check, I’d have seen it; instead, all that remained were feathers, wings, and a few bones.

But the furballs were out in full force, stuffing themselves and starting to make faint chases that portend the upcoming winter mating rituals.  We had to bring all the big pumpkins up from the basement due to a couple of meltdowns, and the temperature drop has foraging for winter fattening and winter stores reaching its annual peak so I took full advantage of it: 

 

Just as I thought I was done and ready to head back inside, a rather small fox squirrel caught my attention.  She was hesitant yet shyly friendly; at first I thought perhaps it was one of Eleanor’s kids, but upon closer inspection I realized I’ve no idea just who she might be.  Strangest thing of all was the deja vu that came when I began processing the morning’s photographs – for there was the spitting image of my late love, Boyfriend:

 

I’ve a small photograph of Boyfriend in my den, one of many taken of him during the years he came ’round daily to visit; he is in the same pose and the photograph was taken about this same time of year.  Those short, round ears and that blunt profile were unique to his endearing old soul, marking his progeny for all time yet none to the extent I saw this morning.  It is as if a tiny piece of what I now fondly think of as the “old guard” came by to grace the yard once more, and brings back a thousand memories of hours spent sitting quietly outside handing out shelled nuts to that beloved cast of characters. 

Memories that bind my heart here.

 

“’The law of unintended consequences, often cited but rarely defined, is that actions of people—and especially of government—always have effects that are unanticipated or “unintended.”’  Economists and other social scientists have heeded its power for centuries; for just as long, politicians and popular opinion have largely ignored it.”
(Rob Norton)

 
I recently had the privilege of observing a trial held in Oakland County.  The case was a serious matter:  the driver of a vehicle making a left-hand turn was charged with the subsequent death of a passenger in another vehicle, after that other vehicle collided with theirs in a residential intersection.

The driver who ran his car into the other vehicle was elderly, the driver making the left-hand turn had a blood alcohol level above the legal limit.  On the surface, it was a case where two people who should not have been driving crossed paths with tragic results and one where alcohol was immediately presumed to be the blaming factor.

But as in the Gary Davis case and, as with most of life, things are not always what they first appear to be.

As witnesses were called and testimony presented, it became more and more evident that the matter was not cut and dried.  Indeed, the old adage “Speed kills” came to mind as both common sense and physics pointed out that the force required to hit another vehicle and not only reverse its natural trajectory but to also roll it and push it many feet past the point of impact ought to be enough force to cause passenger restraint systems to engage.  Such failure to engage was testified to be the source of injuries severe enough to subsequently cause the passenger’s death.

But while all the myriad details of the case are fascinating, what has put my proverbial panties in a wad was not only the verdict of guilty of OUIL causing death and injury rather than giving the driver turning left a DUI or convicting on a lesser charge of negligent homicide but the way in which it was decided.

Throughout the trial, several jurors displayed a propensity to nap while the prosecution was on direct examination of its witnesses.  Certainly technical Q&A, as was required in this particular case, can become tedious, however, the jury had indicated to the judge more than once that they did not want to be tied up for even a whole day with a trial.  Upon learning they would be returning on a Monday for deliberations on what would be almost two weeks of testimony, many were visibly displeased.

After being given their instructions, the jury took barely 1 ½ hours to find the defendant guilty as charged.  After they were thanked and dismissed for the final time, the judge stated to those in the courtroom that they were “shocked and dismayed” at the verdict.  Later questioning of the jurors by the judge and attorneys found that they had decided to dismiss the validity of ALL expert testimony – including testimony from police officers, medical doctors, and accident reconstructionists – and dismiss the lion’s share of evidence to simply conclude that a drunk driver turned into the path of an oncoming vehicle that “might have been going a little too fast”.

Everyone has a “bullshit radar”, whether they choose to acknowledge it or not, and this is where mine went off.  It is obvious that the jury neither listened to the instructions they were given, nor did they take their duty with any degree of seriousness.  Justice may be blind, but she isn’t deaf, dumb, and stupid.  Yet that is what a group of 12 people – a “jury of your peers” – would like us to believe.  We’ve all heard about cases where innocent people are sent to prison for crimes they did not commit; now I can better understand how such a thing can happen. 

And it makes me very, very angry.

The wisdom inherent in the structure of law created by our Founding Fathers came at a very high price and even today blood continues to be shed in its defense.  While no system is perfect, the checks and balances and the primary directive of “innocent until proven guilty” – and that guilt proven beyond a reasonable doubt – is without a doubt a most precious gift given to insure the safety of the collective from tyranny and abuse.

Yet what I witnessed was 12 people who cared more about getting back to whatever it is that occupies their days than about the protection of the rights of all of their fellow citizens.  When asked to perform a duty that stems from a privilege bought with the currency of rivers of red blood, they whined, they complained, they ignored, they slept, and in a demonstration of the modern sound-bite, instant gratification era, they took the easy way out and made a snap judgment based primarily upon emotion.  Once called lynch mob mentality, this is the very thing our legal system was designed to prevent.

It is not only cause for dismay, it is shameful and it is a travesty.  

These 12 people are certainly not, in any way, a jury of my peers.  If you live in Oakland County, you’d better pray they are never yours.

 

Roseland Park Cemetery
Veterans of Foreign Wars section

On this Veterans Day, my heartfelt thanks go to those who have served,
to those who currently serve,
and to those who gave everything to protect the freedoms we enjoy.