Virginia Arthur, Author

Author

Menu

Skip to content
  • FICTION NOVELS BY VIRGINIA ARTHUR
    • Birdbrain
      • Get A Taste of the Adventure Awaiting You in the Pages…
    • Phat(‘s) Chance For Buddha in Houston (Or How I Spent My Summer Vacation)
    • TREED
    • STEM and LEAF PLOTS. Ten Eco-fiction Short Stories.
  • About Virginia/Contact
  • Buy the Books
  • What is Eco-fiction?
  • Classes, Public Speaking, Freelance Writing
  • Angst and Observations About Writing from the State of Virginia

Gyrations

  • Gladys Night and the Peeps July 27, 2025
  • Stop Cutting Down Trees to “Celebrate” Anything! Go Live! A Christmas Paradigm We Need to Change. November 18, 2024
  • Fill It And They Will Come-Because They Have To. A Story of Climate Change Refugees. June 20, 2021
  • I Think We’re Apart Okay, Right? December 20, 2020
  • The newest has bloomed! November 18, 2020
  • Dispatch from the Emotional Flatlands. August 19, 2020
  • Your President, Precedent, Is a Land Developer. Save YOUR Public Lands and Environmental Protections NOW. August 15, 2019
  • Update: REAUTHORIZE THE LWCF! Contact your legislators now! DONE. For now anyway. Thank you! September 2, 2018
  • Virginia’s Newest E-Novel is Due to Sprout September 2018! Get It! Read It! Review It! Then Go Save a Tree! Thank you! September 1, 2018
  • Get Me Out of the American Bounce House. Please. May 26, 2018
  • California Dreamin’… January 3, 2018
  • It’s The Crapping Season Again, Otherwise Known as Summer. June 21, 2017

Author Archives

arthurauthor

Got Frogs?

California is confused about its nature, literally.

For a state that over the past decade has repulsed anything with the letters G, O, P in it, it now manages its own nature through a political program set up by George Bush Jr. Perhaps you’ve heard of it and yes, like anything else associated with George Bush Jr’s administration, the name of it is Orwellian. It’s called the “Healthy Forests Restoration Act” implying of course that before the “act” we didn’t have any, healthy forests that is. Other names for it could be, “The Human Arrogance Perpetuation Act” or “The Nature Destruction Act”, “Blame the Biodiversity Act”, “We Won’t Take No Stinkin’ Responsibility for Nothin’ Act”, “Get ‘Cher Hands on Easy Money Act”.

Once in California, there existed an ethic about tearing stuff up. Oh yea, we tear stuff up, but there was a tacit understanding among the citizenry that we tear stuff up judiciously. Instead of letting OHV’s tear up the desert, we ask them to tear up the desert only in certain areas. Logging in CA used to be called, yup, logging and it took place only in certain areas; never in state parks. Pesticides were taboo. In other words, the destruction was kept track of more or less, managed. Nature preserves were nature preserves. Wilderness areas were wilderness areas. State Parks didn’t have “foresters” on staff. Of course, what administration trashed this paradigm? Bush Jr’s.

The Healthy Forest Restoration Act sounds nifty but it doles out money, to the tune of millions, for thinning and brushing projects, ANYWHERE, under the guise of “fire safety” and no piece of land ANYWHERE in California is immune now to being logged, brushed, chained, bombed with pesticides because, of course, it’s for “fire safety”. It’s all for YOUR SAFETY.

Of course, this is complete b.s. Ask me because not only did I clear (along with my neighbors) and we all still lost our HOMES MADE OF WOOD in the 2003 wildfire in San Diego, I hear from hundreds of people who did the same. “We cleared but our house still burned down.” Of course you did and of course IT did. The “Healthy Forests Restoration Act” doesn’t include any incentives/funding for shoring up a HOUSE against a fire, like putting on a fire safe roof, purchase of barricade gels, installation of water tanks for a neighborhood…it only cuts sht down, chains stuff out, sprays pesticides all over…this is all it does. Our houses, made of wood, sitting on steep slopes because they were PERMITTED by the counties (the steep slope ordinances mysteriously discontinued)–naaa, don’t talk about all the hypocrisy–just cut all your trees down.

It’s been danm hard to get used to–the sound of chain saws just about anywhere, the dropping of old oak trees, the decimation of a once thick wildlife- supporting chaparral layers, and everybody’s in on the game. CA State Parks now logs in the state parks, of course for “fire safety”. The truly ecologically pristine places in CA were once held by our state park system but they’re gone. CA Fish and Wildlife now goes in and, yes, destroys excellent fish and wildlife habitat, of course, for our safety. Even the so-called “Sierra Conservancy” is in on the game, getting millions…then up creeps the Biomass Boys who want to build plants all over to burn this evil stuff that was once the home of quail, salamanders, foxes, bobcats, deer, and hundreds of species of birds…the list is far longer than this.

Why? You know why. Because the “Healthy Forest Restoration Act” doles out “grants”–MONEY like candy and if you’re a cash strapped public agency, hell, you’ll chain out some juniper, spray pesticides all over God knows what (they don’t know) if it means a FTE or a few thousand. Policy, ethics? Na.

Today I heard native frogs, thousands of them, in the valley below my house about the same time I watched a flock of hundreds of sandhill cranes fly overhead. “FROGS?” I said to myself. “FROGS?” Frogs mean clean water. Frogs mean no pesticides. Frogs mean a healthy ecosystem. My neighbors aren’t spraying the wetlands I guess this year, not yet, because when they do, the sound of the frogs will end, immediately. The pesticides kill the tadpoles/frogs on contact and who determined this through indisputable research?

We have a new Rachel Carson and his name is Dr. Rick Relyea. See his research at his website:
http://science.rpi.edu/faculty/rick-relyea
Like Rachel, he is being attacked by the chemical companies that manufacture these poisons. He deserves our support.

Frogs calling by the thousands didn’t used to be a big deal in California but now that everyone can do anything to the land in the name of making us all “safe”, the sound of frogs calling from a wetland is a thing to stop you in your tracks, unique, precious, and rare. I almost wish they weren’t calling because now all I will do is listen for the day they all die.

February 16, 2016 by arthurauthor Posted in Uncategorized Tagged California and Fire Clearing, California's Nature, Frogs and Pesticides, Got Frogs?

Ground Control to Major Tom

A brilliant star the likes of which we will never see again has gone out.

http://www.vox.com/2016/1/11/10750056/david-bowie-chris-hadfield-space-oddity

David, here’s to your atoms becoming cosmic dust.

The stuff of stars. We will all be joining you someday.

In sadness,

VA

January 12, 2016 by arthurauthor Posted in Uncategorized

And This Year’s Darwin Award Goes To…

YOU GUESSED IT!      YES!      THE HUMAN SPECIES!

But first, let’s back-track just a bit. The human species is the only species aware of its own death throughout its entire life span. (Hope I’m not the first one to tell you this).

How long do we get on earth? Average is about a total of 75 years +-.

Within that 75 years, how much individual freedom do we get (i.e. once we have “grown up” at least physiologically/physically; this is ages 18-75)? Subtract 18 from 75 and this is 57 years. We get roughly 60 years on this planet to do everything we want to do in addition to trying to earn a living to get food and shelter (which is getting harder and harder to do, at least in America, if you are not born rich).  60 years! This is nothin’. Geologically, it really is nothin’.

Awareness of our life span is why we are the way we are, on the far extreme end, narcissists, to the other end, loving providers but no matter how you look at it, we don’t get a lot of “alive” time.

So if we cannot escape awareness of our own deaths, is giving the Darwin Award to the entire human species somehow unfair? We live such a short time, we are in essence FORCED to be selfish and care only about our own existence. Add in our primate biology and state of evolution, and shit, it’s amazing we’re still around at all!

If the human species truly cared about future generations, it would not KNOWINGLY be fucking up the quality of life for future generations and it is. 2015 is warmer than 2014 which was warmer than 2013 which was warmer than 2012…you getting this yet? If this yearly temperature increase of the planet continues, life on earth, including for the human species, will be uninhabitable. The people alive right now are just hoping like hell it gets “uninhabitable” after they have lived out most of their lives or even died. We may be the last generation on earth (defining a generation as 100 years) that lives on an inhabitable earth. All others that follow after us
(50-100 years from now) will be fucked. Who cares.

So the Darwin Award goes to THIS GENERATION of human beings currently alive on the planet that COULD do SOMETHING REALLY BIG about climate change, but of course, they won’t because it isn’t yet affecting THEM badly enough that they give a shit so the narcissistic denial goes on. We don’t REALLY give a shit about future generations because we can’t–so instead of cogito ergo sum, it’s more like quia non videtur esse non possim (because they did not think, I cannot exist).

ERGO, the Darwin Award was always destined for the human species and let me just say, indeed, it is well-deserved! Well done human species! WELL DONE! You can do one thing perfectly! Cause your own species to go extinct! BRAVO!

November 22, 2015 by arthurauthor Posted in Uncategorized Tagged human primitive state of evolution, human stupidity, humans awarded the Darwin award, humans causing their own extinction

And Now For the “What the Hell?” Category

Dogs. Pound. Show me the ones nobody wants. Contemplate. Consider. Leave. Can’t sleep. Toss. Turn. Go Back. Ask to see the dog and pray like hell it is still there. It is, thank God. Tell them you will take it. Look through the glass and see it scooching’ on its back, hairless, because it has fleas. Watch it cry, paw. Suddenly you want it very bad.

Bring it home. Bathe it. Brush it. Love it. Licks your face. Tells you it’s grateful. You return the sentiment. Now the story can start.

So this beagle I got from the pound I named Theodore was renamed/misspelled Theeadore by my vet. I liked it and so it is. While we never know for sure with pound dogs, he appears to be a “BEANTER”=beagle-pointer. Yea. I know. Holy shit. So I let him. Every day for about an hour, I let him scatter small mammals, namely CA Ground Squirrels, and stop whining about the poor buggers. The dog is incompetent. He hasn’t killed anything. In fact, while Theeadore is in frenzy, barking, howling, being what he is, the ground squirrels run or pop-up ten or so feet away then hang out, watch, take notes, clean their paws, make a few calls, smoke a cigarette…I am glad Theeadore doesn’t comprehend this as this could cause him to feel seriously humiliated, and he is very sensitive.

Per the latest biological science, native ground squirrels are moving into more residential areas, for me, rural residential, and they have parked their prolific hides in the culvert that holds our driveway up. Lots of holes. So Theeadore is permitted to explore this area not to kill anything but to hopefully move the cute little varmints out from under the driveway. He’s been doing this now for a few months. He has never caught a single one and it appears some of them, not all of them, are moving out.

I tie him on a red cheap ass ‘climbing rope’ I got from the hardware store for $2.99 and God help anyone who actually took it for a climbing rope but they’re dead now if they did so no worries on this front. Last week I went to roll up this rope and noted clean little cuts in it (see photo). It’s not humans because the fellow humans I share this driveway with LIKE Theeadore displacing the ground squirrels from our culvert berm that is now full of holes and therefore, destabilized. So who is doing the cutting? By damn if it isn’t the ground squirrels! I saw one of them gnawing away at the rope that until then, I just left out in the yard. (It did not let me take a photo possibly worried about the legal implications.). We all understand that if that rope ever breaks, Theeadore with his giant nose is gone. It’s already happened and he boogied down the canyon. I found him on the road below.

The rope has now been cut in FOUR places.

Do the ground squirrels know what they are doing and why they are doing it?  What the hell?

Theeadore doing what he is genetically programmed to do.

Theeadore doing what he is genetically programmed to do.

Who let the dogs out? A gang of Ca Ground Squirrels!

Who let the dogs out? A gang of Ca Ground Squirrels also doing what they are genetically programmed to do?!

August 17, 2015 by arthurauthor Posted in Uncategorized Tagged Who Let the Dogs Out? Ground squirrels.

Pink! It’s the new green in California!



BUT EL NINO WILL COME TO SAVE US, RIGHT?

July 31, 2015 by arthurauthor Posted in Uncategorized Tagged CA Burning, CA On Fire, California Burning

Acorn Woodpeckers and the End of the World

(Smoke in the air)

No matter how insane the world, I would always have Mother Earth to retreat to. I have lost everything I have ever cared about, literally. About ten years ago, I was slammed with the loss of the love of my life, my mother, then my home and business burned down in a catastrophic natural and National disaster– wildfire.  I was minding my own business at the time.

I went to a Buddhist monastery, to deal with the grief which you never really “deal with” except to say you figure out how to be the new person you become after loss. All those grief books that refer to “getting over” grief and “recovering” from grief seem to think living life and experiencing loss that comes with living life is some kind of disease you “get over.” It infuriates me. Don’t read books like this if you are grieving. They can damage you. The deal with loss is it is part of your evolution as a human being and is inevitable. It will change you. Imagine juggling with three flaming swords and someone throws you another one. You have to fit it in, another flaming sword…and you can never go back to your pre-flaming-sword juggling daze.

I am too young to have all the losses I have. In fact, it is ridiculous; and with this ridiculousness of loss comes constant memories.

Tonite it is of a man named Royce, a naturalist from San Diego County, CA. It was spurred by a few cackling acorn woodpeckers on my oak tree by the watering station I set up for parched wildlife. Acorn woodpeckers always make me think of San Diego, where I started out as a field biologist, an amazing, or it was, place of endemic plants and animals, desert and coastal sage scrub, and Foster’s Point…though I cannot go there anymore since the USFS cut down one of the most magnificent Jeffrey Pines in the forest–a giant beast of a tree, maybe 200 feet tall, 60 inches circumference, dead, but stuffed with thousands and thousands of acorns, shoved in by acorn woodpeckers. Acorn woodpeckers are the keystone species of entire ecosystems. Where they put their acorns, many other species show up–jays, rodents, raccoons, foxes, quail…they build ecosystems, acorn woodpeckers do (“wacka, wacka, wacka” in the background as I type). In one day, the USFS destroyed this legacy — a loss and tragedy of immense proportions instigated by some idiotic employee of the USFS — for “fire safety.” Then they kept going–destroying pristine ecosystems up and down this same mountain–a spectacular and tragic waste of your tax dollars because, guess what, these areas burned anyway and instead of native plants coming in behind the fire, now it’s cheatgrass. It’s not “fire safety”, it’s ecosystem extirpation in the NAME of fire safety demonstrating yet again the arrogance that is human beings going into places they do not belong then blaming the environment.

This tree was in the woods, where it belonged.

Houses in floodplains…houses in paths of tornadoes…Arrogance of the highest order but no worries, the earth is having her say and will boot us off her hide like the planetary fleas we are…

But back to Royce–a bear of a man who loved the “outback” of San Diego County, dare I claim it has any but the space between Julian and and Warner Springs, CA south to the desert comes close. His white Jeep Cherokee was filled with field equipment, cages for reptiles, field guides, butterfly nets, plant presses, and God knows what else. You couldn’t drive a mile without him stopping to get out and look at something, usually a snake he would return with, a bear smile on his face (“don’t worry. It’s just a gopher (snake)”). He would use these critters (and yes, he was permitted to do so by all the right agencies) to teach people–Boy Scouts, random kids and adults, school kids–anyone–about his love–his love for the biodiversity of our planet. His passion…I will never meet a man like Royce again because they don’t make men like him anymore.

Melanoma took him and fast. Somewhere in there, he professed his love to me. I said no. I was a young girl and he was 20 years my senior…

Acorn Woodpeckers.

Stop the car. Dust from the road clouds up and drifts off. Get out. “Look at those clowns,” he says to me, laughing.

About the time Royce died, the USFS cut down the giant Jeffrey Pine full of acorns and “brush cleared” the pristine chaparral around it. Under this bear of a tree and within this same pristine chaparral, a bear of a man taught hundreds, possibly thousands of kids and adults over decades about acorn woodpeckers. He taught them the name of every surrounding chaparral plant. He was gone, and now the landscape he loved and taught within was also gone. Not only did I grieve his quick death, I grieved the loss of the landscape he was connected to, and that he attached hundreds of people to–it’s an eco-system, after all–an eco-emotional system. We are allowed to love the land like we do one another, last I checked, and in fact, we are supposed to.

We stand underneath an old oak full of perfect holes. He tells me that perhaps no animal personifies “family values” (remember all that crap?) like the Acorn Woodpecker—it builds large colonial connections around a single tree. Generations and generations build their existence around a single tree into which they cache their acorns–then everybody shows up (you know how they are)–sisters and brothers, cousins, aunts, uncles—all around one tree. Pretty soon, other species press in, an ecosystem in the making. I wrote this already but where did I learn this? From him, on this day, at this particular time, outside Warner Springs, San Diego County, CA.

So tonite, holding my glass of wine, standing in the smoke of yet another California fire, they descend around my watering station. Five Acorn Woodpeckers, cackling to one another, loudly, one lifts while the other lands, discussing…their clown faces…and I think of Royce.  I think of the near certainty of our planet–that in 100 years, we may not be able to stand above ground, the goddamned selfish human species, taking it all with it, including the splendid Acorn Woodpecker. I think of Royce, leaning back, laughing…

and I feel sad.  So it is, I need to take it all in while I still can, this precious window of time I am looking through that my own species is arrogantly throwing rocks at, breaking the windows, destroying something so precious. Here’s to you Royce–to your memory. Maybe you got out at a good time because watching this planet I love so much go down…it would have killed you. It’s killing me.

 

 

 

 

 

 

September 25, 2014 by arthurauthor Posted in Uncategorized Tagged Human-caused Mass Extinction, The End of Nature, The End of the World, The Penalty of Loving Nature When Humans Exist

What Do I Say to The Future Looking Back At Me?

I’m teaching this semester. My in-progress second novel is sitting on a chair in the woods, alone, half open, while I answer questions about the difference between mitosis and meiosis, why the poles are being hit so hard by climate change, and owing to how things are going to shit, is it too late? I think about my characters, how much I miss them as I look into the concerned faces of my students and have next to nothing to offer them. Never has teaching ecology been as difficult and depressing as it now and my time teaching is nigh. I cannot do it anymore–try to put an upbeat spin on the fact (fact) that the human species is wiping out its own planet and itself. I can’t give the pep talks to the 18 year old’s that “you are the hope for the future” when they aptly point out that they have inherited this big fat mess from previous generations and why didn’t previous generations give a damn about them–their own children and grand-children? Read Birdbrain…in short, it is because the human species is driven by two things–its life span–the human life span frames why every current generation behaves the way it does meaning the human species is motivated by the idea of individual death and “getting it all in” before death, future generations only peripheral considerations, and; the human life span combined with a still primitive ancestral human brain (selfishness, violence, possession, and territoriality) means as a species, we are incapable of truly planning for future generations.  We talk…oh yea, we talk, but this is all we are capable of. Imagine for a second if human beings, you, lived to be 200 years old, 500 years old, how different “planning for future generations” would be. I do not believe the human species is capable of planning for future generations due to these two factors. Ironically,  I think if the human species could admit to these facts, we would see far less global conflict because we would come to grips with our “normal” condition which  is greed, violence, possession, etc. and then be able to counter it through cultivating a cultural condition that, if you will, repels the primitive human condition because culture is our only hope. Right now, our culture is base and aligns with our “primitive” brain (just watch cable television for a few minutes or note how “entertainment news” is now mixed in with the “real news”–tragedies of war side by side with some movie star’s new bikini)…giving us very little chance of surviving as a species long enough to biologically evolve. Culture is our only hope yet capitalism feeds into short life spans (gratification) and all the characteristics of a primitive or ancestral brain.  I personally do not have high hopes for our future as a species nor the planet. Climate change is now turning the turbines of the future of our planet and at present, it appears nothing can stop this. As a field biologist of a few decades, I do believe it is too late.

I refuse to lie to my students, patronize them with pep talks I myself no longer believe in. Science speaks the truth no matter how ugly…

So where do I seek refuge, my own escape to endure the sadness? Writing and for now, writing novels. As I said, I miss my latest characters and considering they came from the inside of my own head, this in itself is kind of sad however; like the characters of Birdbrain, they take on their own lives and it becomes rather thrilling to observe them, write it all down.

I am going to post blogiferous’ things here in other words. I won’t be able to get to Novel 2, my characters, until I get a break from teaching. Why not post a thing or two to keep some writing in the ring? To my (novel 2) characters, meant in every sense of the word, wait for me too. Wait for me, me.  V.

 

 

 

 

September 9, 2014 by arthurauthor Posted in Uncategorized Tagged Teaching Ecology to Future Generations, Telling Our Youth Their Future is Doomed?

Post navigation

Newer posts →
Proudly powered by WordPress Theme: Stitch by Caroline Moore.