July 2004

• "Natural Law" Relates to US and THEM
  
  Bear with me, for we'll get to "Them" in a moment. But first permit me to dwell
  a few moments and unburden myself on a subject I have considered rather
  confusing for many years, so hadn't given it much thought.
  
  It comes to mind now for two reasons. Neighbor Judie Brown has long
  headed a national organization dead set on making all abortions once
  again illegal. And recently, presidential candidate John Kerry, another
  Catholic, has claimed to be against abortion but in effect says he won't do
  anything about it if elected.
  
  (The national press yawns over this, his umpteenth nuance, in contrast to
  its breathless coverage of Democratic Senators who won't let votes be cast
  to approve judges even though the nominees with pro-life sentiments deny
  they would affect future judgments.)
  
  Beyond church and politics, I've sometimes thought there surely must be a
  rational way to approach the subject of abortion, but until recently I hadn't
  known of one.
  
  Then along came a New York Times piece (6-27-04) by writer Garry Wills.
  In the words of reviewer Andrew Sullivan, Wills' points in the piece about
  "natural law" and its tradition of reasoning, "...posits that there are some
  truths that are available to anyone who looks at nature with an open
  mind...Case in point: there's an obvious distinction between personhood
  and life...Sperm is life, but it is not a person; fertilized eggs are routinely
  aborted naturally (is nature murderous?); miscarriages are a sad but
  permanent part of our biology...To my mind, life and personhood are so
  important as values that considering conception as their mutual origin is
  the safest moral option. But...I can see perfectly well how others might
  disagree on when personhood begins; indeed, how the Church itself once
  disagreed. This makes the issue not one of theological certitude but of
  moral judgment. And that's why I believe that in the political realm, keeping
  abortion legal in the first trimester differs from condoning it."
  
  In other words, all of this seems to mean in a nutshell that I can tolerate
  something I don't like. Don't we do that all the time, and with a clear
  conscience? Seminal, right?
  
  And come to think of it, since I once tolerated Bill Clinton and Richard Nixon,
  with difficulty, John Kerry might not be any worse. That afterthought
  hopefully remains just that.
  
  Meanwhile (and get ready for a neat segue), Garry Wills' reference to natural
  law reminds me of at least a truism: Today's wild animals can and do co-
  exist with us who are nearby and then some.
  
  Case in point: Black bears. As I revealed in a story in the Stafford
  Country Sun, ever since getting bit by a bear long ago, I haven't relished
  the thought of encountering another one. But apparently that could easily
  have happened one evening in June this summer.
  
  My wife and I were lounging in our den (nonbear) watching TV at home in
  Aquia Harbour. About 9:30 p.m. the phone rang. I picked it up. The gate
  guard delivered a disturbing message:
  
  "Your neighbors have called the gate to have us warn you not to go out
  into your back yard tonight." Why? "A black bear was seen a few minutes
  ago, heading down your driveway towards the back yard"--and thence
  hopefully to the thickets of the electric powerline easement behind our
  property.
  
  I immediately charged outside to confront the trespasser and protect home
  and hearth. Not. Get real. Rather, I ventured --gingerly to put it mildly--out
  onto our elevated deck after switching on the floodlights. No sign.
  
  Then when I had to let my Yorkie pup Lollipop outside, none the wiser, to
  do do her duty before we went to bed, I went out there with her, silently
  practicing a loud holler just in case.
  
  The next morning, I visited with Sandra Machamer, our neighbor across
  the street who had called the gate since she didn't have our phone number,
  to have us warned. Seems her family car had just pulled into their own
  driveway when they saw the bear, which then ambled across Aquia Drive,
  then down our driveway and beyond.
  
  How big? Sandie gestured with her hand about waist high, indicating it
  looked "pretty big." For the record, Sandie is pretty tall.
  
  Speaking of "natural law," I guess we still have it here in the Harbour.
  Maybe elsewhere the county is getting paved over, endangering our natural
  heritage and native wildlife to boot. But not here.
  
  Residents have seen bears here before. Neighbor Martha Manack was out
  early one morning, walking her dog along the community trail on that same
  highline power easement. She believes she saw a bear briefly in the
  shadows. Barbara Duffey, whose home backs onto the Aquia Church woods near the gate, says one used to nose around their bird feeder.
  
  Others have sworn a bear regularly hibernates on nearby Government
  Island. The connection? The same community trail beneath the power line,
  passing beyond my back yard, is like an overgrown freeway for wildlife,
  with a turnout a mile further south at the Lions Park directly adjoining Government Island itself. Is it the same bear Sandra and Barbara and Martha saw? Perhaps not.
  
  For bear sightings have become common hereabouts. A man shot one
  dead in his yard a few years ago near Warrenton Road. He paid a hefty fine.
  Sheriff's deputies chased another one, last summer if memory serves,
  through a subdivision off Garrisonville Road. And another one, apparently injured by a car in Aquia Towne Center a while back, had to be destroyed.
  
  Getting bit, though, must be a rarity because Virginia's black bears are said
  to be quite shy.
  
  Yeah, right. Many years ago, I saw a youngish brown bear ambling
  alongside a road in Yellowstone Park towards our parked car while other
  members of my family gathered with a crowd further down the road,
  snapping pictures of a mama bear with her cubs.
  
  I was watching them from the road's shoulder, not paying attention to the
  brown bear approaching from behind. The next thing I knew, my scrawny
  bare leg, exposed by my short pants, felt a brief nip. I jumped back into the
  car. I excitedly told my disbelieving family when they returned. I displayed
  my incriminating evidence. No doubt about it, the skin had been broken.
  Teeth marks were evident, making a lasting impression on my eight-year-
  old mind. Isn't that obvious?