Independently Speaking By Brent Olson
The views expressed are those of the individual author and not necessarily those of DTN, its management or employees.
Order
This is new.
I have no idea, literally no idea, how many times I’ve left the house in the morning to clean up after a snowstorm. When I had livestock, getting the snow cleaned up was just the prelude to the rest of my day. Now that I no longer have a real job, it’s quite often the main purpose of my day. Something I’ve often said when I came back inside, cold and weary, is, “Well, I’ve restored order to the universe.”
But have I really?
This morning when I looked out the window, the universe already looked quite orderly, not to mention beautiful. Maybe my morning work was simply to make it more convenient for me to drive to town to get groceries.
A few years ago, I found myself giving a keynote speech to the College Theological Society Convocation in Portland, Oregon, a group of Catholic theologians. Since I am neither a Catholic nor a theologian, I was badly out of place.
It gets worse, because unlike the learned folk around me, I was a little more casual. For example, another talk was titled, and I’m not kidding, “From the Autochthonous to the Apocalyptic: Toward a Radical Ecotheology.”
The title of mine was, “Fireflies, Wood Ticks and Gloria the Two-Legged Cat.”
In my defense, the organizers contacted me about four months before the event, asking for the title of my speech. Because I usually think about what I’m going to write the day before I write it, I panicked and gave them that title. A month or so later, I actually started to write it.
My point — and I did have one — is that when scientists study wood ticks, they can’t really find a reason for them. I mean, maggots clean up dead carcasses, earthworms turn leaves into loam. Wood ticks, on the other hand, do nothing for us.
And that’s the point. Maybe it’s not about us.
Maybe we’re not the Masters of the Universe. Maybe everything doesn’t need to revolve around us.
Only 2% of Americans live on farms. I live a quarter mile from the closest road, surrounded by ten acres of trees, which means I live closer to nature than…well…pretty much anyone who isn’t a hermit in Montana. And, as my Great Uncle Carl used to say, “Boy, you gotta observe!”
Right now, I’m observing a brown lump about 20 yards from my office window, a brown lump that usually isn’t there. It’s a rabbit, ears folded down tight against its body, no doubt trying to look invisible from whatever would threaten a rabbit, which is a very long list. Yesterday a tomcat limped across the yard and later that day when Templeton, our bully of a house cat, asked to be let back in, he had blood on his fur.
So much goes on in this world that has nothing to do with us at all. If you include rabbits, mice, squirrels and cats, hundreds of creatures inhabitant our little ten-acre wood. With the exception of my wife and me, no one or no thing cares that I spent the morning moving snow. Maybe the universe didn’t need my help at all.
Just something I never spent much time thinking about before.
Copyright 2026 Brent Olson