The Unseen
I’ve been feeling a sort of blankness lately, which I think is the general vibe of January. January is notoriously the hardest month for freelancers. I find it hard to do much of anything when it’s cold—my body says: contract, constrict, conserve resources—which generally looks a lot like fetal position + a big blanket. Add a couple of fuzzy warm little bodies to the mix and it’s all over. And yet, I’m restless. My fingers ache for the feel of moist soil; my face longs for sunshine, my muscles desire the satisfaction of accomplished weariness. Adaptation to the frozen ground and short days has forever been challenging for me.
One delight brought by the snow, however, was discovering the evidence of nighttime travelers across my field. I’ve seen deer and rabbits; neighbors have seen a fox (yes, I am very jealous—I have not seen her yet); I’ve heard what I believe was a bobcat before. It’s one thing to know they are around, but another to be able to trace their paths. The mornings after the snows, I went out and began tracking. A couple of curious deer had jumped into the yard, felt weird about it, and jumped back out. Bunnies hopped through the woods in random patterns. One morning I even found a funny little feet + tail track (perhaps a vole?) that let straight to a hole, an entry into the underworld beneath the snowfall, propped up by last year’s dead grasses.
But the fox intrigued me the most. I followed the paths she took: some along ones that I have cleared, others according to her own whims. Foxes’ gait is what is called “perfect walking”—the back foot steps into the track just made by the front—and is meant to conserve energy. Sometimes they backtrack along the same path, which makes determining their movements even more challenging. My neighbor told me last summer that she had seen a young fox playing with dog toys on their deck—and I think that there were tracks of two foxes, one set of prints a bit smaller.
I was entranced. I only noticed the cold when I slipped my mittens off to snap photos. There is so much that happens around us that we do not see, that is only made visible through a perspective change—even something that we might consider misfortune or unpleasant. This feels rich with meaning…think of all the invisible webs of care that surround every one of us, and often only become felt when something shifts.
I’ve been setting a trail camera out to try and sneak a peek of my nocturnal visitors. No luck yet—but I’ll be sure to follow up if I get any takers for my photo booth!
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With the news of the ceasefire in Gaza, I am urgently trying to raise funds for my friend Fedaa’s crossing fees so that she and her family can evacuate once the Rafah Crossing opens again. We do not know if the ceasefire will last, or if there will be a return to bombings after the first phase, which is set to last 6 weeks. Therefore, it seems critical to try and get Fedaa out of the area by then. Fees are high; she requires $20K to evacuate herself, her husband, and their three children.
How you can help:
-Donate to Fedaa’s GoFundMe, set up by her family in Sweden. The currency is in the Swedish krona; $10 = kr111.
-Donate to Fedaa’s Chuffed fund to provide for daily living expenses. It costs about $500 per week to survive in Gaza right now. This fund allows Fedaa to purchase food & warm clothes for her family.
-I am organizing a raffle to raise funds; are you an artist/maker/something else and want to donate an item or service to the raffle? Email me at evelyndevere@gmail.com!
-Share Fedaa’s campaigns with your friends and family! Follow her at @fedaafamily on Instagram.