My grandfather told me about shooting prairie chickens off the tops of oat shocks when he was a boy. By 2021, the prairie chicken count had fallen to 251 males. In the 1950s our family would drive two hours on a Sunday afternoon just to see Canadian geese. Today I need only arrive at a…
“The earth is the Lord’s and all that is in it, the world and those who live in it.” (Ps. 24: 1 NRSV) In the context of a discussion on environmental stewardship, a Pentecostal friend recently posed a question. “If you came upon a burning house,” she asked, “what would you do first – try…
Last month I wrote with some nostalgia about little rascals mounting expeditions to find some wildlife to hunt in town and finding relatively little (“Urban Wildlife I,” Feb. 24). Part of this dearth of wildlife in town was due to the diligence of local Dutch residents in keeping things neat and tidy. Bushes were trimmed; trees had no lower branches. Shrubs were mostly bridal wreath (spirea) and ground-hugging junipers.
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