ocean – The Rumination Compilation

From the wetlands of Asia to the frozen coasts of Antarctica, from the farms of Europe to the forests of North America, H5N1 is moving quietly yet relentlessly. Once called “bird flu,” this virus has slipped through the cracks of public attention, expanding its reach across species and continents. It is no longer just a disease of birds: it is a cross-species contagion, touching goats, pigs, seals, sea lions, cats, cows and numerous other wild mammals.

Yet despite this, media coverage is fragmented and human awareness is uneven. H5N1 is everywhere, but our gaze often stops at borders, political lines, or convenient news cycles. The virus does not respect such boundaries. Its spread is a mirror to our selective attention.

A Global Cast of Hosts

Consider the reach of this virus. Across the globe, new species are being documented with infection and the list is become extensive to say the least (FAO, 2025). In Europe, swans, wild geese, poultry and even foxes and martens have been infected (ECDC, 2025). North America has seen seals, sea lions, wild birds, domestic cats, cows, raccoons and skunks (USDA, 2025). South America reports penguins, sea lions, gulls and other marine mammals. Swine are the historical step before human transmission but because of the amount of mammalian hosts thus far, it could be anything from cattle to sea lions that lead to a mutation that’ll cause the jump (Nature, 2025).

From Antarctic penguins to goats in Asia, from big cats in American sanctuaries to backyard poultry across the globe, the virus leaps in ways that are both biological and symbolic. It reminds us that human, animal and environmental health are never separate; they are threads in a single, tangled web.

The Global Eye: How States Track (or don’t track) Bird Flu

Even as H5N1 spreads across species and continents, the ways in which governments observe it diverge sharply. Some countries maintain strict, systematic surveillance; others glance occasionally; some have turned away entirely.

United States: Federal oversight has receded. The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention treats H5N1 updates as a subset of routine influenza data (CDC, 2025). Voluntary testing programs in dairy herds draw participation from just a tiny fraction of farms. The state’s gaze has shifted elsewhere, leaving large gaps in knowledge.

China: Poultry markets and farms are disinfected daily, weekly, and monthly in a meticulously enforced rhythm (ScienceDirect, 2025). Every bird cough, every unusual death is a signal in a network designed to catch the virus before it leaps.

Europe: Coordinated regionally, member states report any case within 24 hours. A sick bird in Spain triggers alerts across the continent (ECDC, 2025).

India: Reactive measures, like the temporary closure of the National Zoological Park in Delhi after two painted storks died, illustrate intervention that follows tragedy rather than anticipation (Times of India, 2025).

Across the globe, this spectrum of vigilance (from obsessive monitoring to passive observation to deliberate neglect) illustrates the human choices behind surveillance. The virus moves indiscriminately, but our attention is selective. And selective attention, in a pandemic of interspecies proportion, is a choice with consequences.

The most recent iteration of government action related to H5N1 is quite literally a polar opposite of the U.S. approach: The Korea Center for Disease Control and Prevention conducts a national diagnostic test practice mock training for animal influenza human infection (KCDCP, 2025).

A Reflection on Our Relationship with the Wild

H5N1’s march across species and continents forces a question: how do we relate to the wild when it can suddenly turn contagious? When a virus moves from birds to goats to marine mammals, when pets and livestock are implicated, the boundary between nature and human society blurs.

As with other technologies or threats, the unintended consequences unfold over time. The virus is impartial; we are not. Our awareness is shaped by policy, economics and media attention. What we choose to track, or not track, determines not just who gets sick, but who notices, who acts and who survives.
And so the question lingers: if a virus can hop continents and species, why do our eyes remain shut? When does selective monitoring become neglect, when does the world’s quiet whisper demand that we finally listen?

Closing Reflection

H5N1 is not just a threat to poultry or wildlife; it is a mirror of our attention, our governance, our relationship to the planet. The wild was once where humans went to disappear; now it is a place where contagion can travel undetected, where the boundaries between species and borders blur.

We can ignore it, as some states do. We can track obsessively, as others do. But no matter where the virus moves, it challenges every human assumption about control, safety, and care. And perhaps the greatest question is not whether we can stop it, but whether we are paying attention in time.

For further reading on how lobby groups are influencing the U.S. decision to ignore H5N1, see Bird Flu & The Great Disappearing Act.

References / Further Reading

Photo credit: NIAID

Water Music

The next post is rather long & bleak, so here’s a pleasant break before really delving into the deep end. Here’s to a relaxing weekend; next post is on Monday!

“Shenandoah” arr. by unknown

Fairly certain this arrangement is a stylistic melding of two different arrangements for SATB (soprano, alto, tenor, bass) versions repurposed for this men’s group called Chanticleer.

The song first appeared in writing as “Shenadore” in The New Dominion Monthly in April, 1876. The author, Captain Robert Chamblet Adams, indicated that he had first heard the song around 1850. W.B. Whall reprinted it in his 1910 book Ships, Sea Songs and Shanties Collected by W.B. Whall, Master Mariner. The lyrics tell the story of a canoeing voyageur, or fur trader, who was in love with the daughter of a Native American chief.

This earliest known version of the song likely originated with French Canadian voyageurs who traded with Native Americans around the Great Lakes starting in the 16th century. The voyageurs gave weapons, tools, and money in exchange for animal furs, especially beaver pelts. They often sang while they paddled their canoes along the Mississippi River and its tributaries, including the Missouri, in the quest for furs.

“The Blue Danube Waltz” arr. by Johann Strauss II

I remember first hearing this one in 2001: A Space Odyssey; still one of my favorites of all time. I think Kubrick purposefully picked this song as the Sea of Tranquility is where the obelisk is found for the first time by spacefaring humans. In the next post, at the end, I’ll lightly touch on water as a fuel source; I like to imagine Kubrick was aware of this technology & wanted to symbolically portray it both musically & geographically, as far as the moon goes, which is also symbolically synonymous with the seas & the tides.

Written to celebrate the River Danube that flows through Vienna, it was premiered as a choral piece on February 13, 1867 at a concert of the Vienna Men’s Choral Association. Its initial performance only got a lukewarm response and Strauss is reputed to have said “The devil take the waltz, my only regret is for the coda – I wish that had been a success!” Strauss adapted it into a purely orchestral version for the World’s Fair in Paris that same year, and it this form that it is best known today.

“Boat on Tai Lake” arr. by Dr. Reed Criddle

I honestly have had the hardest time finding historical notes about this piece; I’ve tried for about 5 years now since first hearing this song with no luck whatsoever.

Tai Lake is a lake in the Yangtze Delta and one of the largest freshwater lakes in China. The lake lies in Jiangsu province and significant part of its southern shore forms its border with Zhejiang.

“Across the Western Ocean” arr. by Celius Dougherty

I only know this song because I was a choir nerd as a kid (can you tell yet?) & sang this piece as a solo. I think the lyrics are depressingly beautiful, the opening line is timeless: “oh the times are hard & the wages low,” how much more needs to be said?

Penniless in the wake of a potato famine in their homeland, one and a half million Irish people immigrated to the United States between 1846 and 1850. Their passages were frequently paid by relatives who had already settled in America. Crossing the Atlantic by packet ship was inexpensive, especially for those who traveled from English ports, due to trade competition between America and Britain. The journey took at least six weeks on the overcrowded vessels. Famine, disease, and shipwreck caused an estimated one of every five immigrants to die at sea.

Thanks for reading & hopefully listening to these awesome pieces of music!

P.S. leave a comment! Tell me of your goals, expectations, concerns for 2022; I hope to create an area where it can all be hashed out.

P.P.S. are there water restrictions where you live too?

The Rumination Compilation

Tag: ocean

H5N1: When the Wild Whispers Across Continents