Strong Sun, Strong Medicine (July 08)

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Strong Sun, Strong Medicine (July 2008)

For the Chippewa, this particular lunar cycle from mid-June to mid-July is called Strong Sun Moon, and its totemic animal is the flicker. The flicker people born under this moon are associated particularly with ornamentation, so I read, of all people most keen on decorating their dwelling places and immediate environs.

These actual and mythic facets of the season are particularly fitting -- the sun certainly is a potent force easing into midsummer, sizzling and strong. If it were not so, the peppers, corn, squash, eggplant and tomatoes, to name a few edibles crucial to our traditional heartland diets, would not ripen properly. The winter's chill would not get baked out of our bones thoroughly, to the point where we beg for mercy from the heat. We need that blazing sun in order to contemplate the idea of winter again with growing equanimity. And plunging into lakes and rivers would not give the same hilarious relief were it not for the burning rays during Strong Sun Moon.

As for flickers, almost daily here on the ridge I see these stocky individuals swooping from meadow-like lawns into the woods, giving loud, outraged protests when their explorations into tasty food sources are interrupted. It is not a melodious cry, but because of a longstanding fondness for flickers, I do not judge the bird harshly for that. The western cousin of these yellow-shafted flickers, who wears a peach-colored shaft instead, was a constant companion as my husband and I hiked the Sierra for years on end. My feather collection includes many bright flicker feathers scavenged off the forest floor.

Perhaps I was a flicker person in a past life, for the beauty of house and garden is also of great important to me. I don't mean expensive, by the bye. No, only tasteful (according to my taste), a joy to the eye, and restful to the soul. At this time of year the focus shifts from house to the garden, where flowers, fruits and veggies mix it up in a botanical brotherhood of equals. We always plant more than we can possibly use, so the invitation goes out to sundry acquaintances to hustle over and stand in awe of the cornucopia. We delight in showing off the dazzling palette of colors and shapes. Some of the garden's objects of admiration are to be devoured, some to festoon the house in vases, some only to be admired for their "statements" to the rest of creation, but all serve to humble the most original among us. Wisconsin offers the perfect Eden, a veritable catalogue of the staggering floral variety and abundance in nature.

Every moon cycle has its virtues and also its stresses. Besides coping with heat, one of the challenges for me in this period is that certain bluebirds each year try to set up housekeeping in the stovepipe of our woodstove. (You silly things!) I anguish as I hear the flutter of little wings beating against the stovepipe again and again. I coax, I curse, I tap out messages in Morse code, I pray, but nothing serves except to wait and hope the bird will drop down into the stove box in time to be rescued and released before death overtakes it. This excruciating ordeal happened again last week. When I was finally able to reach in and gently lift out the small culprit, cradling him in my palms, my heart expanding to see signs of life. "Go and sin no more," I advised, as he recuperated for a few seconds on the deck railing before sailing off to rejoin his mates. He'll have a lot to tell the grandkids. "Did I tell you about the time...?"

The strong sun brings on a kind of stupor that can pass for serenity, if you feel the need. And since raccoons persist in digging up all the potted plants on my deck, no matter how ingenious I get trying to foil them, I need serenity bad. My requirement for beauty on the deck may have to be abandoned for some other goal, like beauty from the deck. Staring off into the farming valley below isn't too shabby, as the saying goes. Maybe I should just let go of the idea of deck gardening. As poet Gary Snyder writes, "The true affluence is not needing anything."

I would add that Strong Sun Moon also brings danger, in the form of heatstroke, sunstroke and sunburn. A judicious amount of absorbing the orb is clearly good medicine; too much is a danger to life and limb...and nose. A nasty skin cancer was recently gouged out of my dainty proboscis, so I am here to testify to the wisdom of slathering yourself with sun block. Careless or intemperate exposure to sun's rays, now that the earth's atmosphere no longer has as thick a protective blanket of ozone surrounding it, is to court disaster. It still doesn't seem natural, but fair skins' days of sun-worshipping ‘til they're crisped and shriveled are over.

Busy old fool, unruly Sun,

Why doest thou thus,

Through windows, and through curtains call on us?

~John Donne

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