Boundaries

I didn't hear the beginning of the story, but what the woman was saying captivated me.

"Our people have no word for borders," she said.  "The deer cannot migrate this year because of the wall." The routes to food and water, the ones they have followed for generations, are blocked by Trump's wall. 

"The wall divides our people, too," she said.  "It cuts right through the middle of us."

I hope to track down the story in its entirety, but what I heard, just that, is enough to haunt me for a long time.  

If viewed from Outer Space, this beautiful planet has no artificial boundaries between tribes, nations, and states.   

Trump's wall, like his thinking in general, is an antiquated idea.  Based in fear of Others, it's a half-baked way of keeping Them out and Us in.  

In the past year, three readers whose opinion I respect, have recommended Braiding Sweetgrass, and I'm just getting back to it this morning after starting it some time ago.  It's the kind of beautifully written and interesting book I prefer in paper instead of a Kindle version.  

Two other recommendations by a friend: David Abrams' Becoming Animal and The Spell of the Sensuous. 

I just downloaded samples of both  along with What It's Like To Be A Bird by David Allen Sibley. 

Small children don't recognize boundaries between humans and animals. When Elena was little, she'd make the same sounds the birds in my yard were making.  It was incredible to me, how uncannily similar her sounds were to theirs.  And they would answer back!  This could go on for several minutes.

"How do you do that?" I asked her.

"Do what?" 

 She didn't even know she was doing it--it was as natural as talking to humans.