Field Observations

This is the place where you can find my observations on life in Nebraska and the universe.  Encounters. Walkabouts.  Sightings.  The surprises that come when we let ourselves be strangers in a strange land.  An every day migrant.  Looking and listening as if our lives depended on it.  Because they do.

Holiday Poem from the Heartland

Published Wednesday, November 28, 2018


Joyful Solstice, Joyful Hanukkah, Joyful Christmas, and Joyful Flight
of the Old Shaman and His Reindeer in the Melting Arctic! Love and
rigorous research to everyone before you get all righteous and rigid in
the New Year. Whatever your falling apart party may be, be you
Proud to Be Rich or Ashamed to Be Poor, or vice versa, be you a
Hardworking Farmer who knows you don’t control weather or
commodity markets, and who never wanted to poison the land and
water but can’t see a way out, or a Near-Suicidal Climate Scientist, or
a Protester freezing your butt off at Standing Rock, or a Niche Pig
Farmer who likes to see them run around before we eat them, or the
Organic Foodie who supports him, or a Contracted Worker with no
insurance at a concentrated agricultural feed operation, or a Somali
on the Kill Floor of a meat processing plant owned by Brazilians, or
Small Business Owner counting on tax cuts you deserve, or a Wall
Street Short Seller rubbing your soft palms at the thought of more
deregulation, or Someone with a Crappy Wage who thinks
deregulation will make your life better, or a Genuinely Sincere
Believer in the rights of the unborn who thinks that was an adequate
reason to vote for Trump, or a Child of Gay Parents who does not yet
understand that some forms of love are inferior to others, or a
Doughnut Maker who at this very moment of the morning is getting
into bed having sold out the Sweetly Scented Products of the Night,
or a Mean Person on your death bed surrounded by a surprisingly
forgiving family, or a Broken Meth Head tweaking in an alley who
looks up at the Wildly Swinging Stars and weeps, or Any Tired
Mother walking a colicky baby in a cozy house or a cold walkup, or a
Puppy Dog in a kill shelter looking up at Someone who right this very
minute wants a puppy, or an Undocumented Child who hopes there is
still heart in the American Heartland, or a Demonized Border Patrol
Guard in the cold Sonoran Desert giving water to a thirsty man, or a
Baby in a refugee camp in Gaza blinking at One Very Bright Star that
night after night goes on promising something deeply and radically
Good.

-Meredith Ann Fuller