The Wild Hunt (https://wildhunt.org/tag/babies)
It is hard to ignore a crying baby. Likewise, while the climate change and global warming deniers still exist, it is hard to ignore repeated environmental issues, such as the impact of widespread smoke from Canadian fires on air quality in the United States.
“This will be my last regular column for The Wild Hunt.” Our weekend editor, Eric O. Scott, reflects on parenthood, life in St. Louis, and a decade of writing on these pages.
The infant sleeps in her mother’s arms; she is brown of hair, tiny, only six weeks old. Her father sits next to me on the floor, beating out a rhythm on a hand drum. I am kneeling next to him, matching his beat by slapping my knees and stomach. The baby’s brother, three years old, walks in and out of the circle, anxiously waiting for all the chanting to be over so he can blow out the lone candle sitting on the altar. My heartbeat rises to match the drumming of animal hide and human flesh.
Madame Death’s dressed all in black and seated next to a battered metal table. We do not look at her, or touch her, or do anything else to acknowledge her. For her part, she says nothing, but only watches our circle while we partake in the first communion of the night: water and crackers, nothing else. We chew on this meager harvest, and for a moment, at least, we forget that we stand in the backyard of a house in St. Louis, Missouri, a house with electricity, heat, and more food waiting in the kitchen than we could possibly eat in one night.