Author: Abby Fisk

In the chapter “Ravens” of Terry Williams’ Refuge, the titular bird serves as a metaphor for the impending loss of Willams’ mother. Ravens have long been a symbol of loss and bad omens due to their black plumage and haunting caw. They also can serve as a bridge between the material world and the world of the dead.

Williams explores this association between life and death in this chapter, with the ravens serving as a metaphor for this association. She describes the Saltair boardwalk, which had been burned down, leaving only burnt posts behind that resembled ravens. Being the only remnant left of Saltair, they serve as the “spirit” of the deceased boardwalk in a sense. There is very little left of the pier, which could not be rebuilt after it’s closure and burning, which ties into Williams’ mother, who cannot be rebuilt either and will eventually die from her cancer. It serves as a metaphor for the loss Williams knows is coming, with the ravens serving the purpose of reminding her of this, as a memento mori.

The color black, which ties into the black plumage of the raven that gives it its poor reputation, also plays a prominent role in the chapter. Black is a color associated with death and funerals. The chapter starts with the preparation for Williams’ mother’s chemotherapy, which offers a low chance of survival, beginning with black dots on her stomach. Her mother also is mentioned to have wrapped her husband’s presents in black for one of his birthdays as a joke that he was becoming old and approaching the end of his life. As it is specifically mentioned that William’s mother is older than her husband, it is also a way of saying she is approaching the end of her life as well. And later on in the chapter, the film zombies are described with dark eyes and black clothes. In this particular instance they serve as the raven, being a bridge between the world of the living and the dead.

Williams’ ends the chapter with the statement that “there are ghosts at the Great Salt Lake”, tying together the metaphor of the bridge between life and death. At this point, Williams’ is faced with the fragility of that divide, as she had believed her mother to have gotten better only for it to be revealed that she was still sick. She is aware that her mother will most likely die soon, although she doesn’t want to believe it. The symbolism of the raven in the chapter serves as a representation of this. Williams’ mother is crossing the bridge to the world of the dead and Williams’ is faced with the reality of that.

Visiting David Kline’s farm, the most interesting aspect to me was the cow barn. More specifically, it was the interaction between the cows outside and the calves inside. Every couple of minute, a calf would call out and a cow outside would respond, as if they were holding a conversation. I wonder if the cow that was answering was the calf’s mother. Would cows be able to tell the voice of their baby from the voice of other calves? I would think so, cows are mammals after all and thus they bond and care for their offspring. Whilst it is reassuring to know that these cows that seem so intelligent live on a farm with plenty of room to roam and are treated well, there are so many cows out there living in horribly cramped conditions where they may never see their babies after they are born. That makes me very sad. I wish all farms would be run more ethically. I understand that it is not abnormal for humans to eat animals for food but the least we could do is treat those animals with respect as living beings.

Here, the city of Florence is all encompassing, cobblestone roads and terracotta buildings stretching along narrow streets. There are only people, dogs, and pigeons here. In spite of its beauty, there are only a few oases of green. One block away is a tiny park of trampled grass and cigarette butts. But go one more block and you’ll reach a beautiful plaza with a wisteria bush just beginning to bloom.  The cars circle round and round the island of nature. Off to one side is a walled in area where I have often sat and drank  a morning coffee. The sounds of the street are muffled here.

Go further and you’ll find the Arno river. It is not as grey as the river of my hometown, though it is still somewhat dirty. There is a strip of concrete along the bank forming a dam where I sit and sketch. The opposite shore is bright and green. In the distance, past a weathered bridge are the mountains.

 

The mountains are the beauty that I seek. On bus rides I watch them wiz by, grass green fields and vineyards, cypress trees planted in neat rows. Rolling hill of flowers, stretching on and on, a picturesque landscape. Further on is the sea, bright and blue, more so than any body of water I have seen in America. It crashes against rocky shores. I walk along the edge, picking up water smoothed stones before returning them to their home.

While walking along the trail of Brown’s Lake Bog, I came upon an exciting discovery. A large caterpillar lay on it’s back in the middle of the trail, curled up in a ball. At first, I feared it was dead, but upon closer inspection, I could see it  was moving slightly. Using a stick from the ground, I picked it up to move it from the path and examine it. This turned out to be the right choice as I later learned that this particular caterpillar protects itself from danger by “stinging” anything that touches it. The caterpillar was quite beautiful. It had a vibrant yellow fuzzy body with several black spikes protruding from its back. It was very large, about 2 inches in length and quite wide from it’s thick fuzz. It sat perfectly still on the end of the stick. After posing for a photo with the caterpillar, I returned it to its home, away from the path to prevent it from being trampled. Later, I looked up the caterpillar, excited to learn of my new discovery. It was the American Dagger Moth Caterpillar. They are found almost everywhere in America east of the Rocky Mountains

in wooded areas. They feed on many common types of trees such as oaks and maples and are often found on the ground in the forest. I was quite excited to find a creature I had never seen before and learn a bit about it.