Oversion

Jack Miners Visit

Half the joy of a Jack Miner’s visit is getting to go there at all. There’s a way or more that it’s true to say 100% of the joy of it is getting to go there at all, and that it exists at all.

How many billions of people, how many trillions in time overall, would love to be going there.

Upon entering, one sees the layout, birds to the left, other things further beyond, and to the right, Ty Cobb Field, a little disconcerting, Cobb was only so nice a guy, who knows if Jack Miner knew that, but it was his, Jack Miner’s, fantastical outlook put that there, somewhere along from which is his grave, dreaming of leaning on the fence right near home plate, one imagines birthday parties, sunny days, and thoughts of summer in the winter.

Who doesn’t love baseball, it’s all about the birds at Jack Miner’s. But the hint of fantasticalism and time travel does wonders for the mind. It would all have been something like that, before Ontario Place and the Windsor Casino, when there was only what some individuals did, Jack Miner’s rocked.

It’s like imagining when the wild life in zoos was free, when each individual animal was free, or bird or fish, was free, and they were. Equal to us, as astonishing as that may seem.

It’s in retrospect surprising how few visits I’ve made there over 51 years, for how constant the place has been in mind, always deep in the birdwatcher cult consciousness. A rare conscious intersection with bird life

And so many different theoretical constructs over the years. It was:

1) an attempted end to the stuffed bird phenomenon

2) a help-place for migrating birds having difficulty

3) a consternating (the 70s) time when migration patterns were thought to be possibly undermined by a kind soul who loved birds and set this up for them

4) a place he loved and lived and was so brilliantly successful in launching into the future

5) and ultimately, a place that is part of the bird world now.

Plus I’m astonished it works. The rare species of birds through fairly gentle cage apartments amid many free wild birds. It’s not without its pangs of issue. Some of the caged birds seemed fine, others seemed crazed like they’d enough, going insane.

Greater bird empaths than myself will have to reason with that throughout the future, certainly letting them out would be disasterous at this point

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