| 14 January 2023 1145 Hours | Lesotho, Biology, Politics, Zoology |
I am a human, Homo sapiens, whose phylogeny is out of Africa. After I lived several decades in the Northern Hemisphere, I "returned" to Africa, Lesotho (Le su tu), to teach biology. I viewed, often, the great remaining herds of migrating creatures, The valley villages in the early morning, with a hovering cloud of smoke over the huts, And remember the breeding of my Basotho mare with a local magnificent Appaloosa stallion. We rode from Roma, Lesotho, to a Ladybrand farm in South Africa, To leave the mare for breeding on the Amm's place for a few days. Weeks later, back in Roma, a beautiful foal emerged With a Nez Perce (Ney Pair say--French) blanket of white, scattered with black spots on her rump: Perhaps the first of such a gene recombination in Lesotho! The transport of a North American horse breed (bred by the Nez Perce), Combined with the 'blood' of the African bred Basotho pony: Such a sweet, lovely creature to be created on the continent of our human origin.
| 14 January 2023 1800 Hours | Zoology, Food, Lesotho, Memories |
I was leaving my belov-ed Africa completing five years of teaching. From Lesotho (Le su tu) I flew for a last stop in Malawi. I had the choice of a hotel and walking the town, Or rent a car in which I would sleep and see some sights! Hard to guess which I chose--------. With the car, I needed food for my travels. Coming upon an outdoor market, I purchased a huge hand of plantains With several bags of tangerines--both easy to peel. Then I was off down the dusty road to where? Gave someone a lift for a while and chatted country politics. (Banda had killed perhaps one person in every Milawan family!--so he said.) Then went on and found a national game park. Signed in and settled into my cabin. Explored out in the bush for a time, with wondrous fascination. (I kept my white flannel shirt on, covered in red African dust.) Ate a bite from my stash of plantains and tangerines, Then wandered out again near dusk for good wildlife viewing. Walked along a lake's shore to my right, probably full of crocs and hippos. Passed further on to discover a huge bull elephant now in sight. I watched him feeding on branches for several minutes. It was becoming darker. Suddenly I heard a trumpet and saw the ears out and the trunk up! Wind shifted. I knew I needed to leave--fast. Crocs now to the left and a long open slope to the right. One lone tree far ahead--my only hope. I ran as I had never run before--my high school records were all shattered. MADE IT, with a huge pachyderm just behind. The tree's root mass, from past flooding, was wide, like a giant bonsai. The elephant rounded to the right, I rounded back to the left. Then the other way for both of us in our opposed motions. Two or more semi rotations and then a pause. I had my foot uplifted on the tree root And it trembled beneath my body in exhaustion and exhilarated fear. Suddenly nothing--no sound--and I wondered where we were. Slowly creeping around to see if the huge animal was there. Not a thing------. Then the sudden crack of a branch and I realized it had silently left to feed. I slowly and carefully slunk out and back to my cabin, Still so full of adrenalin, but quieter, I lay down on my cot and left the world in excited slumber.
| 15 January 2023 1500 Hours | Kalahari, Botswana, Lesotho, Zoology |
We were immersed in the Kalahari Desert of Botswana, which surrounded us. From our Lesotho base south of us, Many miles had passed to reach this"idyllic" place. Among us from the University, were an English retired District Governor, John. His wife, a German intellectual, Shirley, A Dutch demographer, Gerhard Schmitz, And the wonderfully naive Librarian (I forget his name) From New England, who wished to tag along. I was resident biologist, there to observe and collect. So many events unfolded during this expedition. Perhaps after some time, I might be able to relate a few. On this particular morning, the Librarian and I set out on foot to view large game; There was a lion kill we must visit to check the consumption from that past night. The day was bright and full of all that Africa could offer. As we moved through the beautiful tall, lush grasses, Farther and farther from our parked Land Rover, We saw aways away a bull elephant, slowly grazing quietly in our direction. I scrutinized the area just to have a good 'lay of the land'. Near the grassy opening, amongst the trees Were a large number of giant termite mounds. (Termites, of course, were the impetus during our human evolution, Offering, once discovered as a food source, that pulse of protein, Which allowed the extra energy source to feed our ever-increasing brains!) I grabbed the Librarian's arm and commanded him to run with me Towards the waiting pillars of insect- constructed soil. As we ran, I directed, when by the mound, To jump straight to the right, behind it. I followed, also abruptly shifting to the right, out of sight. The huge pachyderm thundered past us, Not detecting our quick moves, because of poor eyesight! Saved from destruction by a beast with poor eyesight. We watched as it plunged onward into the bush And we, much relieved, turned back towards our vehicle, With yet another adventurous episode under our fragile belts.
| 16 January 2023 1545 Hours | Birth, Family, Lesotho |
Christine was pregnant--oh, so pregnant. Consulting with our local Catholic hospital, The doctor informed us that if there were a problem, The child would be saved before the mother! Mad searching for an alternative---- A black Mosotho, Dr. Mohapelo, a surgeon in Maseru-- A colleague of Christine's father, Dr. Jaques. Now we confronted a breech----feet down. Pierre was a large baby--what to do? The moment came at home, water flowing. Now a many mile trip to Maseru and the hospital. (A birth in the Catholic hospital in Roma would have been so close.) Maseru------Into the hospital and the operating room-- Electricity failing in the city, But sun in early morning, coming through the upper window. Sterile packs removed from the autoclave. (I was there!) Anesthesia, then the Cesarean cut in the abdomen. The child was pulled up and out, umbilicus severed and tied off. But oh, so blue--the little body was so blue! A nurse held him upside down and pounded on his back. "Is this normal?", I asked the surgeon. "Not unusual", was the answer. FINALLY, breath and a baby's wailing. Relief. The beginning of little Pierre Crispin's life. Eventually back home and to a wood stove's warmth. (Remember this was June, but in the Southern Hemisphere.) Little, lovely child ready to meet the world.
| 17 January 2023 1200 Hours | Apiculture, Entomology, Family, Lesotho, Zoology |
In Lesotho (Le su tu), Africa, I was a biology professor. Of course I taught regular science classes, But in a country such as Lesotho, One was obliged to give more back to this poorer society. I thus decided one of my projects was to develop beekeeping. Africans are basically terrified of the native, very untame bee. For good reason. The African bee was always plundered and exploited; Unlike the European bee, which was selected over time for gentleness. Once again evolution--selection and mutation--play a major role. At any rate, I travelled to Ladybrand, South Africa To learn the art of African beekeeping. I learned how to completely dress with several layers; I learned the flowering sources for this species; I learned the whole art of collecting and extracting the comb honey. My first encounter with a swarm was in a garage. Box ready. Smoker lit and in I went. All were collected and confined in the cardboard boxes. Everything went like clockwork--I had learned the art! One works with bees often at night when they are grouped and calm, But no matter when, a smoker is always needed. I remember bundling Pierre, my one year old son, into the VW bus, And driving out into the night with boxes, smoker, Plus a plastic rounded hair curler to confine the queen, To collect a nearby swarm and transfer it into one of my hives. No problem. The child slept and I collected and delivered! One incident I will never forget--so naturally profound. A lovely, soft, quiet African afternoon' As I tore open the corrugated wall of a trading post, Behind which was a gigantic hive, A Mosotho mother, baby on her back, Stepped away from the crowd, Squatted, let her stream of urine flow, Got back up and walked away. Such a beautiful sight of a natural human function. At times, I collected whole combs to deliver to a local Holiday Inn. The idea came to me that they serve the combs, Sundays, on silver platters. They were delighted with the thought and combs were then delivered. So, that was the beginning of my introduction to yet another fellow creature. Beekeeping can be heavy work, But such a sweet, calming way to pass one's time and life experience.
| 21 January 2023 1650 Hours | Lesotho, Africa, California |
In Lesotho, Africa, where we lived, Distant evening fires on the hillsides were often seen, Accompanied by long bouts of drumming. Surely, over there, was comradery accompanied by gulps of juala (sorghum beer). After years in Africa, then Sweden, I arrived in, of all places, Davis, California! I was beginning to organize my new, 37 acre farm. One evening, I was just taken out of myself, When I saw fires on the slopes of the Coast Range, And, sure enough, drums continually wafting on the breeze. It was indeed a shock to be transported back To the wonderful evening drums of my past, Lesotho, Africa.
| 1 February 2023 0910 Hours | Food, Lesotho, Zoology |
Remember that photo of Jane Goodall; The chimp using the stick tool to draw out termites? The use of the tool was an incredible break through of knowledge, But what of the saga of the termites? When discovered as a food, the termite was the protein impetus of evolution. Human brains evolved with the added protein to flourish ever larger. I lived and taught at the University of Lesotho, Africa. One afternoon, winged termites began to emerge from our lawns! Amazed, I watched as these delicate creatures pushed up into the air. I remembered the gustatory history of humans and termites; I suddenly cried out--'bring out your large salad bowls'. 'Place them over the holes and capture these potential protein morsels.' As our ancestors lept to snatch up as many as possible-- So we moved fast to capture our entemorphagical tidbits. Immersed and gently fried in hot butter with a bit of water, These insect protein packets fed us for a meal, Drawing us back in mind to our ancestral past And the continual, perpetual human search for reliable protein sources.
| 1 February 2023 1525 Hours | Lesotho, Zoology |
Horses are a vital means of transport in Lesotho (Le su tu). I had refined, more and more, my equestrian skills. By owning a horse, as a foreigner, it creates a job of care for a Mosotho. The mountainous terrain of Lesotho is a dream for those who love riding. Lesotho is home and the origin of the Basotho Pony-- A horse which has been bred to Triple-- A smooth gait somewhere between a trot and a cantor-- Pull back, push forward, both simultaneously! One day, when concluding a ride on my wonderful Pony, I entered the University residential area for faculty, When I noticed a cobra crossing the dusty road, Moving slowly towards a house and its children playing nearby; Together with a chicken coop, harboring the quest for any respectable cobra-- Many nest boxes where hens have left their ovulated prize--eggs! I called out to the children to take cover in the house, Then rode quickly to the Science Building, harboring its now very needed implements: Goggles to shield the eyes from a very--several meter--accurately spitting cobra And a pole to knock the dangerous snake senseless! A gallop back to the spot, snake's position immediately determined, Then a quick, smooth, humane interaction, and it was done: Children safe, eggs conserved and a new specimen for the biological collection. Now, somewhat overwhelmed, I walked my horse to restable, Unharnessed it with uneasy hands in the quiet equestrian shelter.
| 30 March 2023 1830 Hours | Lesotho, Farming, Memories, Zoology |
One afternoon in the hills above the University (Roma, Lesotho), I was driving along the smooth rock-based road, Looking for a horse to buy to fulfill my equestrian desires. Lesotho (Lesootoo) is renowned for its Basotho (Basootoo) Pony, A horse which could be taught to triple-- A combination of an 'urged trot' and a 'restrained cantor'. This 'pony' is one of the few breeds in the world, Which is able to manage such a gait-- A gait which, when controlled well, is as smooth as glass! So, that was my goal: scouting for an animal, Which would also fulfill my aesthetic desires. I had seen and checked out several that day, But nothing had struck my fancy that was available. Time was passing on towards mid afternoon, When suddenly a rider approached on the road, Mounted on a brilliant, muscular, red pony. I stopped the old VW van and quickly descended to the dirt road. The Mosotho rider stopped, dismounted and we shook hands. He was wearing his conical, woven Basotho hat And wrapped around his shoulders was the so-called Basotho blanket. I explained that I was looking for a horse And this one certainly struck my fancy. He explained where he lived and asked that I return tomorrow. I agreed, we shook hands once again And I drove off with a pounding heart-- A beautiful pony indeed! The next afternoon, having taught my biology lessons for the day, I drove back up the smooth rock face above the school And headed on towards the appointed group of rondavels-- The circular houses in which most Basotho dwell. There was the red pony, as gorgeous as I had remembered. We conversed for an hour, back and forth, And finally decided on a price, agreeable to us both. In anticipation of a possible fulfilled agreement, I had a backup driver to return with the van And I, with not only the horse, but also a fitted saddle, Rode back down to the University horse barns. The trip took two hours and the ride was magnificent. Telah (Taylah) was strong with a determined will. (That will, would, sadly, be his later undoing!) Back then, home, I was at last the proud owner of a Basotho Pony. Telah and I would have many happy rides together, Through the open Lesotho valleys and mountains. However, the next episode will divulge the sad departing Of my beautiful Telah from me forever.
| 30 March 2023 2200 Hours | Lesotho, Farming, Zoology |
Ah, Telah (Taylah) my beautiful red Basotho (Basootoo) Pony. How I loved your magnificence and strength. We trotted, tripled, and cantored across the face of Lesotho; This startling red pony caught the eye of all we passed. In Lesotho (Lesootoo), the tenth (?) poorest country in the world, Anyone with means, as we expatriate teachers had, Hired a man or woman to work around or in the house. I, being a biologist, had several animals in the yard, Including a rescued maccac from an experimental lab. I also had a garden which required maintenance as well. Then of course, there were two horses-- Lots to keep a hired person busy and earning a relatively nice wage. During the day the house animals and the garden Needed feeding, watering, and special care. The two horses were tethered out to graze each morning, Moved for better grazing at noon and led back to the barn each evening. One evening our 'hired hand' came rushing back to the house. He had been leading Telah and his companion, a lovely mare, back to the stable, When, suddenly, it was explained, Telah bolted and broke free. Down the road he raced and was maneuvering a small bend to the left. His forward momentum overcame the need to gallop left-- Over the right edge of the raised road and straight into an electric pole. His right shoulder caught the pole and he instantly dropped. I called the Maseru vet, who arrived quite quickly. (Quickly for Lesotho that is--there was always 'African Time'.) The diagnosis: no chance of repair-- Must be put down--such a decision. I told the vet to proceed as soon as I had left-- I could not bear to witness such a thing. Before I left, my hired man approached: "If it were alright, may we butcher and take the meat?" These people were the poorest of the poor. I pondered, wondering what to do. A neighbor South African family of a mother and three daughters Heard what was transpiring and came to me. "This horse should be buried properly and not butchered!" Oh, goodness. Horse lovers versus semi-starving people. Whatever I did, I would have to live with it! I was a guest in a country of desperately poor people. I decided to allow the dividing up of the body-- My beautiful Telah; energy passed from horse to human. I never lived it down with the family. Once again, Human philosophy colliding, By acting with an attempt, trying to result in a 'Rightful' outcome.
| 21 September 2024 0445 Hours | Ichthyology, Behavior, Custom, Diet, Farming, Lesotho, Politics |
I taught Biology at the University of Lesotho, Africa, For several years. While there, I befriended a Swiss fish farmer, Who in all innocence created a large fish pond, By damming up a donga or deep crevasse, Formed from excessive erosion. The countryside was riddled with these long, deep wastelands. The intention of my Swiss friend was to create An aquaculture industry for the country. In this case good intentions ended in disaster. One of the challenges was to teach a landlocked nation to eat fish, But that was not the route of these troubles. One late morning an alarmed villager quickly knocked On the doors of our campus. Three teenagers had slipped down the steep, Muddy banks of the new pond, Struggled into ever-deeper water, and had drowned--all three! What to do? Villagers had been digging away for hours at the dam. Their intention was only to lower the water and retrieve the bodies. It would take days. No one wished to, nor was really able, To swim and recover bodies in the muddy water. Suddenly (and long before I became an aquaculturist), It hit me, there must be seines nearby which were used for fish harvesting. One long one was immediately employed and our 'fishing' commenced. Soon, sadly, the net was drawn onto the bank, And three young bodies were seen in this netted tangle. Their arms were frozen in a painful, as if reaching-for-air position, Their fingers and ears had been badly nibbled, feeding the innocent fish. The whole operation had been sickening with a terrible tinge of tragedy. The campus rescue teachers quietly returned home. Coincidentally, the University had an outdoor swimming pool For teachers and their guests. The school was far from a town or city, And perhaps the designers of the campus felt The pool would help entertain foreign, urban staff. So, then, teachers, being teachers, invited students to learn to swim. However, also at that time, a native Mosotho Was chosen as the new Vice Chancellor. The VC, perhaps in a surge of nationalism (?), closed down the pool. He viewed it as a western, useless pastime. This action took place just after the staff volunteered To recover the bodies of those drowned teens. True, nets were used to retrieve the victims, And no swimming actually occurred, But if those three were able to swim--an unknown skill-- The horror of that day would have been just an hypothesis. The rightful feeling of the Mosotho concerning foreigners Taking only seeming pleasure in the pool-- Opposed to considering the good being done By innocently teaching swimming-- Draws out the conflicts of one culture benevolently imposed on another. If the fish industry were successful and many dongas were aqueously filled, Swimming would have become a natural ability, As well as adding fish -- a wholesome protein source for the people.
| 16 July 2025 1600 Hours | Lesotho, Africa, Finance, Memories, Politics, Racism |
Did you happen to catch it, when President Trump said, "No one has ever heard of Lesotho." (Pronounced LES SOO TOO, a very small Southern African country.) The subject of Lesotho came up because Trump placed a 50% tariff thereon. Trump may not have heard of Lesotho, but the Basotho have heard of him. I, personally, had heard of Lesotho, the country, Because I was an 'English lecturer' (assistant professor) in their university about 1976. This country was and still is one of the poorest countries in the world. When I lived and taught there, the poverty was evident. Young boys, tending goats in the wild, were still hunting mice, To be roasted over a small fire, providing a small amount of needed protein. The hunting weapon was a sharpened stick called a Tsenene. In the winter, children wrapped themselves in a single blanket, And walked around with bare feet on a very cold earth-surface. As I remember, perhaps Denmark (?), had started a clothing company to create jobs. This infant industry has now grown to produce and become 'the denim capitol' of Africa. They also produce the golf shirts of clothing, which even Trump himself wears! The 50% huge tariff, Trump placed on Lesotho because of the 'trade imbalance'-- Lesotho actually exports more to the US, because it is so poor; US products being relatively too expensive. As a result, their clothing companies are challenged, losing trade because of the excessive prices-- Businesses are closing, workers are being laid off, And a long fought-for national industry is, because of Trump's complete ignorance of the situation, experiencing crumbling sources of desperately needed employment. Meanwhile the tariff has somewhat mercifully been reduced to 15%, But the Mosotho Secretary of State reports it will require many months for the needed recovery. Yet one more tragedy in a long line of uninformed legislation.
| 20 December 2025 1403 Hours | Memories, Education, Family, Farming, History, Lesotho, Sweden, Youth |
A wonderful preschool life with loving, caring parents and a little brother, John, and a littler sister, Susan.
Hyde School Elementary, Newton Highlands, MA (1946-1951). (I loved school and started piano and in 6th grade, double bass.)
Weeks Jr HS, Newton Center, MA (1951-1954). (Met students from other religions and began my love of Shakespeare. Orchestra for real.).
Newton (N) HS, Newtonville, MA (1954-1958). (More and better orchestra, personal relationship with a supreme being, love, readying for college.)
Antioch College, BA, Yellow Springs, OH (1959-1964). (New subjects and thoughts, orchestra conducting, Cooperative academic jobs--whales, a museum job, teaching in Switzerland-- end of formal religion.)
Cornell University, Ph,D., Vertebrate Zoology and Ecology, Ithaca, NY (1964-1968). (Dinner with Hans Betha, inventor of the hydrogen bomb; field work on Microtus; learned to fly.)
Robert College, Istanbul,Turkiye, Prof Vertebrate Zoology (1968-1972). (Became department chair, field work in Israel and Libya, learned cello, composed music, travelled around Turkiye.)
U. of Botswana, Lesotho and Swaziland, Lesotho, Africa, Prof Vertebrate Zoology (1972-1975). (Bred Basotho Ponies, rescued a baboon, learned bee keeping with this vicious species.)
U, of Uppsala, Sweden, Researcher (1975-1977). (Did research on the gentler European Honey bee as well as animal ag food processing, learned Swedish, ice skating, drank from royal horns.)
Created the Environmental Education Farm Foundation, Davis, CA (1977-2024). (Learned farming, farmers markets, raised ground-raised turkeys, chickens, and ducks, and aquaculture.)
Created the Quail Ridge Wilderness Conservancy, (Napa, CA), Davis, CA (1989-present). (Learned about Conservation Easements, fundraising, passed the legislation for the State Grass.)
Pictish Stone Art hand carved petroglyphs (1995-present). (Learned a completely new art form. did custom orders, learned even more Scottish and world history, gave lessons, exhibits.)
Conducted several outreach voyages to Scotland, one of my natal ancestral nations, to be with the people, and carve in situ and present stone petroglyphs to Parliament and to other organizations.
'Poems and Thoughts' poetry (2020-present) (Through new writing, I reviewed my history and world thinking; became more philosophical, viewing my past life; leaving a record for my children.)
| 6 January 2026 0145 Hours | Dinosaur, Africa, Anatomy, Biology, Evolution, Family, Geology, Lesotho, Memories, Science, Zoology |
While teaching in Lesotho, Africa, I had my first child, Pierre, Who at two, 'followed' me around the countryside, Collecting bees at night And finding dinosaur footprints in daylight. This, all between my biology classes at the University. One spectacular trip was to a large valley, Where there were myriads of tumbled sandstone blocks, Strewn randomly throughout the area. I slowly walked amongst these boulders, When suddenly I found my first prints. A large, three-toed series of impressions, Spread across the flat surface. I carried with me plaster of paris, a water container, Strips of cardboard and a clutch of paperclips. I made a cardboard border around the print, Tied together at the ends, with the necessary clips. Water and plaster were mixed to a soft-solid consistency; Then poured into the void, the print primed with vaseline. Several prints were cast and then the waiting time. Each was pulled up and removed, now in a solid state. These prints were made in the seventies And many remain today (2026) on my farm to our delight. The five decades of preservation here on the farm, Equals nothing to the 60 million years of waiting in the sandstone, To be admired by humans today-- They, nowhere to be found during this creature's long past reign.