Frequency-dependent behaviour

enerally, summer in this region of the country is a most anticipated time of the year. And when it arrives, one wishes it would last as long as possible. Not so in the summer of 2005. I had now spent more than 6 months attending to the death of a company I'd spent nearly a decade with. The absence of human contact during the days, and even quieter nights was unbearable, and the prospect of entering another autumn and then winter with no contact from the outside world, frightening. Yet I was longing for summer to rush past, so that I could contact Doug.

August 2005, a good month after Doug's anticipated return from the West Coast, the few emails I'd sent to his Yahoo email address had gone completely unanswered and it was frustrating, to say the least. I knew it called for a more direct approach. I so needed answers to some crucial questions. Not relating to the manner in which his attraction had waned. That was obviously related to his marital status, and I accepted that. But I needed to gain the necessary answers to why my friend had masqueraded in the first place, and up and vanished despite his assurance that he would never do that. I'd lost all hope in people, and needed to find out if this was premeditated or simply an accident.

I began to watch the frequency of his visits to the various immigration boards of which he was a member, under the various alternate monikers to see if there was a pattern to his activity. By this time, I had already secured a home address and phone number, and his office address and telephone number from his personal website. I would try to gauge what days he appeared to be in his office and call there. Since it was now summer term, and didn't have any knowledge of his schedule, I wasn't sure he'd even go into the office. As suspected, a number of calls made during August proved unsuccessful. I would only receive a voice mail message and I certainly felt leaving a message was appropriate.

Yes, indeed, after all of this waiting, there'd be more waiting ahead until the fall semester would be underway in September.

Extirpation..

xtirpation is defined as, "The elimination of a species or subspecies from a particular area, but not from its entire range." ~ a process by which an organism finds it can no longer sustain in a habitat, due to environmental influences that force the organism elsewhere. Those environmental influences could be climate change, as in pollution, habitat loss such as occurs when man-made development encroaches or, indeed, even hunting or poaching.

Plans to meet with the immigration officer at the end of the first week of July were postponed. He'd since been called out to Texas, and would not return for 10 days. His schedule wouldn't permit a trip to my area until much later in the summer, but he was anxious to get working on the file, and consequently asked if I'd be able to make the 4 hour drive to the local district office. I wasn't exactly thrilled with the prospect of such a jaunt, as it coincided with my initial plans to travel to Vermont to conduct some research at the ACF and a surprise visit to Doug at the same time (he'd be well settled into normal work schedule upon his return from California by that time). But I agreed to be there on July 25th. My trip to the East Coast would have to wait.

I bundled the banker's box file that had contained everything DF and I had ever submitted to the immigration department into the back of my SUV and began the trek, before 07:00 hours. The appointment had been made for 1:00pm; I'd arrive well in advance of that. Filing through the security check point was a major undertaking, my belongings were scrutinised, along with my person before I was asked the purpose of my visit and heralded to stand behind the left "yellow line". The building was packed with people awaiting scheduled appointments, but within a matter of minutes a woman approached me and informed me that the AO was still tied up with another appointment but would be out to meet me in a minute. Sure enough, he did; offered to secure the box of information I'd brought in his office while I visited the nearest Starbucks coffee bar, for which he gave me clear directions, before returning an hour later. When I returned, I was escorted to the front of the line queueing up before the security device and whistled off behind a locking door into the bowels of the building to a small but inviting office, well removed from public access areas.

Just as expected, the AO he was very cordial and accommodating as he proceeded to prepare to take what he termed a "sworn statement" of the circumstances that occurred during my marriage. At one point he promptly picked up the phone and speed-dialed Nebraska to enquire. "John, it's Bill, you'll never guess who is sitting in my office right now", he commented and then confirmed "Yes, that's right!" Apparently, John in Nebraska was intimately familiar with my case, or me, that he knew instantly. How odd. They exchanged a couple of words in a friendly manner, and the call was ended when it was suggested that the report would be both mailed and emailed before the end of the week.

My plan to make the round trip trek within one day was fashioned on the thought that an hour would be sufficient to offer whatever USCIS needed from me. I was mistaken. The meeting lasted close to 4 hours, 3 of which were a case of me retelling the events that lead up to my first encounter with DF and ending with the divorce, along with presenting evidence of some of the incidents that took place, letters and correspondence between DF and KMC that indicated some sort of a scheme to secure my signature on the I-751 under the premise that the marriage would survive his affair, all the while the AO was clicking away at lightening speed on his computer and glancing at a 1/2 thick stack of paper-clipped papers from his file.

In the midst of the questioning, the Mr. Defluri left the room momentarily, and while gone I reached across the desk to pick up the copies of my divorce decree to place back in the binder that were lying on top of the report he was using. The door burst open, and a woman exclaimed "Stop! What are you doing? Don't touch anything on that desk, do you hear me?" Startled, I turned around to show her that all I had picked up were my own documents, only to witness Mr. Defluri reappear and calm his work-mate with the words, "What are you doing? It's OK, she's the US citizen. It's no problem".

He settled back into his chair to resume the series of questions, and within a period of about another quarter of an hour, a thirteen page document rolled off the laser printer and into the tray beneath, ready for my endorsement. The header page appeared to be a rather formal looking template, into which the AO had added pertinent details. It clearly profiled the reason for USCIS' contact with me. The words, "Nebraska Service Center" and below "Marriage Fraud Investigation" were printed in bold letters across the middle of the page.

He not only escorted out of the private recesses of the building, but to my car, which was parked in the yard across the street, thanking me for coming and offering me precise directions to the expressway. It was at this point that I asked why I had been called in to the district office. After all, I'd chosen not to report the matter to USCIS, for DF's children's benefit and I was no longer married to the alien. It was my understanding that I had no involvement in his immigration case other than to be obliged under the Affidavit of Support for the next 10 years. "This case was sent to me for investigation, as it had the NSC a little stumped. I wouldn't be too concerned about the Affidavit of Support if I were you".

About fifteen minutes elapsed and my cell phone rang. He wished to thank me once again for my willingness to make the long trip to meet with him and was just making sure I'd made it safely onto the highway. I'd have plenty of time during the 250 mile trip home that night to reflect on the peculiar arrival of mail at my home even up to a year after DF's disappearance. Yes, DF's failure to report his change of address to USCIS had indeed thwarted his plans....

Stochastic snags

oice mail. Some like it, some don't but there are those times when it comes in very handy. I relied on the voice mail features on my home phone and cell for business purposes, principally. In the event that I was indisposed, my staff could leave word for me as to the emergency (we had various code levels) should the need arise and I could fashion our strategy before ringing back with instructions. After the business ceased to operate, there was little need to check voice mail at my home on a daily basis. And after a series of calls from DF and KMC, earlier in the year, that had been disturbing to listen to, rather than play back messages, I'd developed a habit of simply looking at the caller ID screen every once in a while to see if anyone had called. Naturally, by mid year in 2005, more often than not there was nothing on the screen.

One night in the third week of June, after retrieving the mail from the mail box at the end of my driveway, I was thumbing through the bills and discovered an envelope from local district Court and a thin, self-mailer from the Gwinnet County Court, I began to open them both as I walked into the house. The self-mailer was one of those requiring that one tear the perforated edges, so I had to put my briefcase down on the desk in my home office to do so. As I did, I glanced at the phone to see a call from the United States Department of Justice and Immigration Services on caller ID.

"That's odd", I thought, "why would USCIS be contacting me?" and pressed "play" on the answering machine. A gentleman had left word for me to contact him, as soon as possible, and gave both an office and cell phone number for me to use. He left no other information. I jotted down his name and contact information and planned to return the call the following morning.

I proceeded to read the two pieces of correspondence from the courts. Gwinnet County had sent me a subpoena to appear there in the matter relating to the Private Investigator, Mr. Henderson. Drat! That would require a trip to Georgia later in the fall ~ something I didn't relish doing even though I'd lost quite a bit of money as a result of his scam. I penciled the date on the calendar on my desk. The second envelope contained a copy of an Order from the judge stating that my civil case against DF and KMC had been dismissed, pursuant to a Motion for Summary Disposition entered the prior week by their counsel. What! The case was on Court mandated stay, pending the recovery of my attorney. I had received confirmation of that on March 10th. My attorney had still not been released to work by his heart specialist. So, how could this be the outcome? The judge noted in his decision that he didn't believe my attorney was unable to litigate, had expedited the case and my attorney had failed to respond.

The following day, as planned, I reached Mr. Defluri by phone. He was a very polite man, of perhaps mid-fifties, who had a distinctive New Jersey accent, working out of the local District Office of Immigration Services. When I announced my name, he thanked me for returning his call so promptly and proceeded to tell me that he'd like to meet with me. He was planning to be in my area in two weeks, just after July 4th and wished to arrange a time and place where we could talk. I queried what, specifically, the meeting was to be about. "Your marriage to DF", he replied.

Thinking it would be better for me if we could meet at my office, I gave him the street address and suggested that any time during the day that would be convenient for him, I could arrange. He asked if I would send him directions and offered his email address for me to use. Before ending the call, while a little stunned that I'd been contacted, I asked if he was also meeting with DF while here. "No" he replied, "That won't be necessary. The file I have here sent by the NSC asks for me to meet only with you", he replied.

Snags. In this instance I'm not referring to the term used for standing dead trees ~ a common nesting place for woodpeckers and other organisms . No, I mean more random and unexpected hurdles and complications.

Drum, drill, grub and granary

ommon practice of the spider is to first immobilise and then encase captured prey in a silky shroud for later consumption. Certainly, there's enough evidence in the biological world that shows that survival is predicated on a number of factors, one being the availability of food supply. But is there also evidence to prove that organisms are both discriminate in what they devour, possess instinct and recall that drives them to engage in certain behaviours that can ensure survival, when food supplies become scarce? The answer would be yes on both counts.

Many species anticipate potential scarcity of food supply and store away food for this period. We've all witnessed squirrels almost giddy in the fall storing nuts for the winter. Likewise, we've seen and heard the hum of bees busy manufacturing honey. I recall one case of discovering a little cache of peanuts, sesame seeds and M&M's inside a cardboard box on the top shelf of the workbench in my garage one winter that had been tidily stashed away for the coldest season by a resident family of field mice. Goodness knows where they found the ingredients to make this trail mix blend, but it certainly struck me that they are crafty little critters.

Some species use their own bodies as a storehouse for later nutrition and retire to winter quarters when the habitat may be difficult in which to forage. Hibernation and aestivation are both quiescent or dormant states of reduced metabolic activity, where the organism draws upon reserves until the habitat is more welcoming and food resources more abundant.

Remember the image on this post that showed the food stowing activity of the Acorn Woodpecker, Melanerpes formicivorus? Residents of environments that experience seasonal pulses of food items, followed by periods of scarcity, they undertake to stow away supplies to compensate for varying availability. Years ago in the 1920's William E. Ritter performed a study of the California Woodpecker, paying close attention to their food-storing activities. His interest was to attempt to determine what was their primary desired food source; when was it consumed and was there any particular rhyme or reason for the manner in which they built the caches, also known as "granaries". Theory suggested that despite many thousands of acorns that had been placed in the bark of trees in the woodland, the nut meats were not the primary food source of the woodpecker at all, but rather the worms or grubs that were often inside the nut.

Great care is given to the manner in which the cavities are fashioned in which to place the acorns. It seems that the species knows the desirability of acorns by other residents of the habitat, and therefore each hole was drilled to make sure that the acorn would fit snuggly, while being sufficiently recessed so that rodents and other competing individuals could not pry them loose and pillage the food supply. Ritter concluded that drilling or drumming away at the bark of trees was not always a function to create neat little receptacles for acorns, but incident to the woodpecker's pursuit of insects residing in the bark itself.

Woodpeckers have generalised foraging repertoires, and as a group undertaking they stow away for a "rainy day" and assist in guarding stored items. Observation conducted over a period of several seasons by Ritter also showed that the woodpeckers raided the granaries to retrieve, first, acorns that were grub-riddled and left behind those acorns without grubs that offered simply the acorn nutmeat. Presumably, these grub-free acorns were considered a secondary food choice. Ritter also noted that, in seasons of substantial acorn availability, granaries were stocked to the hilt, to the degree that the population could not consume all of the acorns. When the acorns began to rot they were abandoned.

More recently, another discovery in Mexico has determined that the woodpecker is a remarkable "structural engineer", as well. Yucca plants have a relatively hollow stalk, that is divided internally into several chambers. The woodpecker, resident to Mexico, learned that by drilling a hole at the uppermost region of each chamber and another hole at the lowest level of each chamber, it could drop acorns through the top hole and the yucca would serve as a safe storage container, and work much like PEZ dispenser. This plant made such an ideal storehouse for the woodpecker's harvest that observation proves that some granaries are located more than 30 miles away from the nearest oak tree. Yes, it appears from this empirical research that woodpeckers are decidedly industrious engineers. They recognise the true value of the work invested in harvesting and safe conservation of their harvesting efforts that they'd even entertain flying up to 60 miles to transport one acorn to their coveted storage place.

The question then remains, is it instinct alone, or is it a combination of instinct and experience that promotes these birds to lay by stores of provisions for the winter, even when it involves travelling over significant distances and a sizable investment in energies to do so?

Doug's rather curt response to me by email in April 2005 caused me to wonder all the more what the real reason was that he'd approached me in the ILW chat room the first week of January 2004, and to continue to prolong the myth through communication for a year and a half. He had no shortage of nourishment and attention, being married. So why masquerade as he had with me and why invest so much time and energy in something he would later deny or abandon? And if indeed his interest was to develop a friendship with me, with no other interest, why pretend, in the end, as if we had never met?

Was it that I was symbolic of a grub that he'd unearthed, perhaps by accident or as a result of instinct or some biological imprinting, while drilling at the bark of a tree and doing what a normal woodpecker does? Since there was a ready-cache of food supply at the time, was I simply stored away and left for possible later consumption? Worse yet, had it been instinct or experience that had caused him to shove me firmly into the vice-like cavity to remain there until rotted and of no nutritious value to anyone?

These questions would plague me until fall of 2005, when I would be able to ask him directly....

Occlusions

cclusions or blockages, literally and figuratively, stalled any further progress in the spring of 2005. My feathered friend's attempt to deny that we'd encountered and his duties out on the West coast meant that I'd be forced to wait ninety or more days before I could make contact by phone at his institution. In the meantime, the civil process against DF and KMC suffered a catastrophic blow. My attorney fell victim to a massive heart attack one week prior to our court hearing, and I scurried to make sure that the judge approved a temporary stay of the case on the docket until such time that he could regain strength to resume work. More delays, more waiting, more hurdles to overcome.

Entering now the sixth month without income, but still only midway to wrapping up all of the affairs of my former company, I survived on the little funds I had at hand. Liquidating some of my assets could derive a comfortable cushion to finance my costs of living for some time, but finalising the dissolution of corporate affairs precluded any sale and the demands placed upon me to do so precluded actively pursuing other employment options. I was to remain to conclude the wrapping up, or else it would not be done. The rest of the shareholders had scattered like ants, once the end of our business was imminent. As our corporate counsel so aptly termed it, the shareholders usually elect someone to do the "honours" and to be the designated "fuckee"! Yes, that was me!

I still hadn't received an endorsed quitclaim on my home, (DF had not complied with Court mandate), yet my attorney was unavailable until he'd been released for work by his attending physicians. I couldn't afford to take on additional counsel, so I would be forced to press on and squeak by until selling something would be possible, and hopefully sooner rather than later that year. I reduced my day-to-day costs of living to the barest of minimum, cancelling anything not absolutely essential to existence: cable television; land line; landscaping; entertainment; gas service for hot water etc. Anything I could survive without was eliminated. My daily routine involved going to my office and preparing one meal a day upon my return to an uninviting and quiet home. That was it. Well, except for wading through legal textbooks, familiarising myself with legal and court procedure and arming myself, sufficiently, to go the distance alone, "pro per", if it would become necessary.

This interruption in any legal development also appeared to encourage more curiosity by dynamic duo. Knowing that nothing untoward could occur while my counsel was recuperating or at least there'd be less chance of anyone making legal issue of it, DF and KMC made a couple of nasty phone calls and an unannounced visit to my office. It was the first time since filing the lawsuit that we'd had a personal encounter. The term "schadenfreude" comes to mind. It refers to individuals that gain some sort of satisfaction witnessing another's misfortune. In retrospect, their visit could have been out of curiosity and interest to gloat at me. By this time, I had been numbed by all of the horrible disappointments of the past few years. I stood motionless, completely expressionless and silently at the door to my building, and waited until they'd had their fill and went on their way.

"Think'st thou there are no serpents in the world, but those who slide along the grassy sod, and sting the luckless foot that presses them? There are who in the path of social life, do bask their spotted skins in fortune's sun, and sting the soul." ~ J. Baillie

Vocalisation and avoidance behaviour

April ~ the signalling of spring. Derived from the Latin word aprilis and the Greek "Aphrō", the abbreviation for Aphrodite. The Latin translation means "to open" in reference to the fertility of the earth, blooming of flora and birth of fauna. April is sacred to Venus or Aphrodite.

The first day of this fertile month was also Doug's birthday, and while I knew, now, that Doug's stint in California was not a Department of Defense project, as he'd originally claimed, nor would his communications be under high security watch, I sent him a brief email wishing him the best, and hoping he'd offer some hint or explanation for his prior avoidance behaviour. Several months had passed since my last contact and it was distressing to see him ignore me whilst we both were active in the same newsgroups, especially after I'd demonstrated what I believed was understanding and kindness.

Shortly thereafter a reply notification appeared in my email inbox.

Evolution has provided organisms with a range of means to escape the approach of another species, especially when their purpose is unknown. Both eyesight and hearing acuity aid birds in identifying an intruder. Likewise, camouflage and an ability to rapidly turn in flight are also employed to evade an intruder. Some scansorial birds, that is those that are tree climbers such as woodpeckers, employ other effective strategies for defense. Being cavity-dwellers, they bore small openings in the bark both above and below the cavity to release a cascade of phloem sap. The glue-like sap oozes down the trunk of the tree and stops crawling organisms in their tracks. Much effort is expended in making sure the sap continues to flow, as it guards the cavity from unwanted intruders and also serves as an effective means to trap insects.

When feeling threatened, birds have unique defense techniques, one being vocalisation. Possessing a broad range of calls, studies have shown that Aves use specific vocalisations to convey contextual information and assess motivation levels, communicate defense strategies or coordinate nest defense. These are known as alarm calls and they often vary in acoustic structure, relative to the situation. This strategy provides both referential and risk-based information. Indeed, avian alarm calls are subtle, complex and sophisticated. Even birds that don’t produce an alarm call often choose to associate with those that do and are a sort of second party beneficiary, if you will, to the defense mechanisms of the other population.

That said, when I opened the email that arrived, I was a little alarmed. Doug had responded to my birthday greeting within hours. He admitted that he'd received several emails from me in the past, but was sure I had him mixed up with someone else, and then went on to ask if I was the same "swiss" that posted on ILW. Of course, immediately, I replied telling him that I was absolutely sure I had not confused him with anyone else, hoped he was well and told him I had missed him.

What we call our despair is often only the painful eagerness of unfed hope ~ George Eliot

Ecological separation

Lurking, as it is known in online fora is simply reading and observing without necessarily participating. The term could conjure up rather sinister imagery, but it really doesn't denote anything unpleasant, especially on information related news groups, anyway. That had been my initial intent when I joined both of the new immigration boards. I wasn't lurking to gather immigration information, although I'm always keen to learn more. My purpose was to observe Doug's behaviour within another community to see if it began to explain his abrupt departure and the reason he'd adopted a synthetic persona when chatting with me.

Of course, this online interactive environment was a whole new world for me. I'd only participated on ILW in the past, where the functionality and features of the forum were quite limited. I'd only been on Visa Journey a few days before I received the first private message and was obviously unfamiliar with how to make myself "invisible". I thought it would appear even more strange if I never made another comment. As a consequence, when I could, I'd make the occasional point or two. I purposefully chose not to ask any questions, or to intimate that I had an immigration case underway, with the express purpose of avoiding any questions of me.

Consequently, I was totally unprepared for the first few private messages to appear in my mailboxes on each of the two sites. The first contact was from a Visa Journey member, who was quite open and friendly. Curious would be a better term. The second private message appeared in my inbox from a British Expats member, who also participated on Visa Journey. This member was a little more reserved and yes, indeed, within a few days I was absolutely sure the second person to approach me was Doug. He was using the alternate ID he'd used on ILW. By that time, Doug had already received my email, filled with apologies and sharing with him that I knew he was still active on ILW, but had discarded his "irritated" ID. It wasn't my intent to be enigmatic, evasive or private, but I wanted to know if it was his habit to approach people on immigration boards and of course I was curious to know what caused him to to be drawn towards me again.

The Internet is a vast place. There are any number of immigration message boards, and each with a thousand or more active members. Neither of us was using the same identity. I don't believe there was any indication that he knew I was "swissnut" using a different moniker. So, why did we collide again? Was it coincidental or was there a reason? Was it something about me or him or something else?

Neither of the two members in contact with me appeared to be familiar with each other. I kept my conversations with each private from the other, although at one point each asked about the other. It was a little awkward to know that one of the members I was communicating with was Doug and yet I was not able to reveal or be myself. But I suspected he didn't know that I knew, nor did he know that I was someone he'd become very close with in the past. I'd need more time before I would disclose.

By early March, throughout many exchanges with both of these men it was confirmed. The biologist shared with me that he'd adopted a new identity on Visa Journey as a result of some trouble that had occurred in the past, prior to my joining the forum. He didn't reveal what ID that was, but he did divulge that he had exactly the same professional position as Doug. That's right. Both men I'd been conversing for more than two months were Doug. Both speaking with me at the same time and under different ID names. I never had the chance to let on who I was, because in mid-March, in the midst of a conversation with them both, after being asked a question that required a response, I did, but the message went unanswered.

Yes, mid-March, and the day-long communication abruptly ended mid-stride, just as the annual jaunt to California for Doug's three-month field work would commence, as it had each year before.

Terms of venery ~ a descent of woodpeckers

lready mentioned in the post called "A gulp of swallows”, the earliest presentation of collective nouns appears in the Book of St. Albans, dating back to the fifteenth century. It was a trilogy of gentlemanly activity on hunting, hawking, and heraldry. Heraldry, the science and art of designing and displaying family crests and coats of arms, originated out of the necessity to distinguish the identity of jousting participants, when their helmets were closed. Heralds or Coats of Arms were the means to identify members of particular families. The photo to the right below, an example of a coat of arms, is that of my family. Hawking, later termed falconry, was a popular sport of the landed gentry ~ gentlemen, since the pursuit was a costly one to procure and raise the raptors to hunt game. To intensify the indulgent nature this sport of chase and capture personified, prey were given poetic names, called terms of venery.


ven·er·y (n) pl. ven·er·ies Archaic
1. The act or sport of hunting; the chase
2. Indulgence in or pursuit of sexual activity.
3. The act of sexual intercourse.
[Middle English veneriefrom Medieval Latin veneria, from Latin venus, vener-, desire, love.]


A collective noun represents two or more individuals of the same species. There’s often confusion about whether a collective noun calls for the verb to be used in the plural or singular. The simple rule of thumb when using collective nouns is that if the two individuals or group is acting individually the plural form is used, if acting together, as in a unit, the singular verb is appropriate.

Take for example a descent of woodpeckers. If all woodpeckers are acting in concert, like “a descent of woodpeckers drums the bark of a welcoming conifer tree, in search of prey”, they are all doing the same thing then the verb to use would be singular.

In flies the scarab beetle

erendipity is all about making fortunate discoveries by accident.

As a young girl I recall my first encounter with serendipity, and have affectionately termed it a "Magic Box" incident and used this example to explain how serendipity works many times since. I'd received a toy magic box as a child; a gift I enjoyed immensely for years until I tired of the tricks and placed it on the top shelf of my wardrobe. It remained there for years, in fact, I’d long since forgotten about it. One day, a number of years later, I found myself quite bored. Everyone had gone to the cinema and I’d opted not to. I couldn’t find anything stimulating to entertain myself, so I ultimately decided to clean out my wardrobe to pass the time. I reached onto the top shelf to retrieve an empty box in which to place some of the discarded items, and as I drew it off the top shelf, the magic box came tumbling down too. As it landed on the floor, the inner tray containing the trick items flipped out of the box to reveal yet a second tray of tricks located underneath. What a surprise! I was unaware that the box was constructed with two trays. I was delighted! Yes, the magic box falling from the shelf was indeed serendipity.

Serendipity is also often referred to as coincidence, happenstance, fate or even some form of synchronicity. You might ask, “what’s synchronicity?” Swiss psychologist, Carl Jung, was first to use this term, “synchronicity”, when he described it as "temporally coincident occurrences of acausal events." It’s distinguished from simple coincidence or happenstance in that it is a meaningful coincidence demonstrating that there is an underlying dynamic that is manifest through events or circumstances. Some have since challenged Jung’s synchronicity, by suggesting that it is merely Apophenia ~ a subconscious yet deliberate human perception assigning connection and meaning to entirely unrelated phenomena precipitated by the need to rationalise. Nonetheless, one has to wonder if this could be the case, when considering the classic example of synchronicity offered by Jung himself. As he reported, he was treating a patient who related a dream about a scarab beetle, an icon that the Ancient Egyptians used to symbolize “rebirth”. While the woman is describing this insect’s role in her dream, Jung approaches the window, and upon opening it, none other than a golden yellow scarab beetle flies in.

Happenstance? Coincidence? Or perhaps something more?
In the same vein, there was no answer to my January email to Doug. In fact, there wasn’t an answer in February 2005 either. I was disappointed. I thought I’d been more than gentle in my explanation and my apologies while I’d assured him that although disappointed to learn that the interest in each other had obviously not been mutual, I cherished the friendship we’d developed. Meanwhile, I continued to read the various immigration boards to see if I could determine anything from Doug’s participation there that would explain his lack of response. While lurking on Visa Journey, another member that claimed he was a fellow biologist and I had exchanged a number of private messages back and forth. For the most part our conversations were oriented around some of the clear flaming activities by other members and lack of appropriate board moderation. He was a long time member and was showing me the ropes and although I had joined hoping to learn more about Doug, someone else was approaching me. I was uneasy getting to know anyone after this most recent incident, and offered little in the way of personal information, yet I was polite. Then, out of the blue, one day while responding to a private message from this member, a private message appeared on the screen, from yet another Visa Journey member.

By March, both members were sporadically exchanging private messages with me. By March I’d learn that both, yes, both were Doug.

Happenstance? Serendipity? Or Synchronicity?

Circadian rhythm

Circadian rhythm is one aspect of chronobiology ~ the study of cyclic and temporal phenomena in living organisms. Events that cycle within a day's period of time are referred to as circadian, from the Latin circa diem meaning "about a day". Dependent upon a combination of both environmental and physiological factors, circadian rhythms are controlled by a sort of pacemaker, if you will. Really it's a biological clock.

The earth rotates on its axis in a 24-hour rhythm and the transition from day to night and its impact on the environment, circadian rhythm is ubiquitous in life on earth. From single-cell to highly developed organisms the biological pacemaker brings organisms into synchronicity with the rhythm of their environment.

The common terms an "early bird" or a "night owl" associating birds with a specific time of day probably arises from the fact that birds are fine examples of circadian rhythm at work, as well as circannual rhythms, in some migratory species. In fact, birds during the migrating season appear to have a biological ability, perhaps a plasticity, if you will, to remain alert and active and overcome sleep deprivation, which will typically in other organisms reduce both cognitive and physical function. In retrospect, it's no wonder that it appeared almost effortless for Doug to chat with me into the wee hours of the night for those months in early 2004 and be already up "with the birds" bright and early the next day with an offline message waiting for me.

Back to circadian rhythm as it relates to this story. As it's associated with environmental change, my day-to-day existence from January 2005 onward changed rhythm, dramatically. In the throws of winter, the daylight hours had reduced to a brief showing of 8 hours out of 24, from 8 am to 4 pm. My environment was completely devoid of any noise or activity associated with former business functions. All my employees long gone, I'd travel to the office, just over two-miles from my home, each morning and return to my home at night.

While tending to financial wind-up affairs the sound of the computer keys clicking throughout the day as I did my data crunching was the only sign of activity within the cool building. During the day and after returning home at night, I abbreviated the tedium with an occassional web search here and there. I read anything that I came across. In point of fact, I'd pick a subject each day from quantum mechanics to etymology of language, from the art of cloissoné to "how to build a dry well". This became my only source of entertainment, except for my daily cruise through the fora at Visa Journey and British Expats, principally, and ILW on a rare occasion. For the most part I was a silent observer, that is, until a "fellow biologist" began to private message me asking about my background and what area of research I was engaged in.

He covers me with his wings...

ardship and adversity are certainly a test of one's mettle. I'd faced more than I thought I could endure in the prior two years, and had plodded along hoping that this spell of unfortunate events would come to an end. I'd looked forward to the chance to meet Doug and see what might develop between us, especially along the lines of the sensual fantasies we'd explored during our chat sessions, but learning of his marital status, I was forced to accept that perhaps that had never been a mutual interest of his. It was, of course, a disappointment to me.

More importantly, the prospect that the friendship we'd developed over the year could be transient, or worse yet, merely a front or facade from inception, was much more devastating to contemplate. I reflected on the Dutch proverb, "He covers me with his wings and bites me with his bill" and hoped that would not be the case. Once again, I focused on the feeling of relief I would have once I made contact with him. After all, his passion had been intoxicating, but I cherished his companionship, and the intellectual and witty discourse far too much to let the reason he felt the need to adopt a false persona stand in the way of a resolution.

I began to craft an email to him that would eventually take me several weeks to muster up the courage to send. Although I'd been deeply hurt to learn his situation in the way I did, it was critical that I convey how his friendship meant a great deal to me, now more than ever, as this revelation had left me incapable of ever opening up to another stranger again. Yet, I had no circle of friends, colleagues or family here. Each day, prior to sending the email, I'd review the draft to see that I'd expressed myself clearly and spared him as much embarrassment as was possible. It began using the very same opening words that he'd used when he sent his February 1 email to me the year prior.

"So, now it's my turn to repeat words once offered to me...'Obviously, I was the one who misinterpreted all of the signals for I was beginning to think you were interested in me and would like to pursue something along those lines. I hope you'll think no less of me for expressing my impassioned pleas to you' and now I feel so utterly embarrassed that I thought the feeling was mutual"

On January 18, 2005, I pressed "send" and off it went. I was hopeful that his masquerading could end and our friendship get back on track.

Within a matter of days of sending the email, while participating on Visa Journey, one of the immigration message boards I'd joined near Christmas and under an entirely new moniker that had no reference to the moniker I'd used on ILW, I answered a question one member had posed. A moment passed, and then a Private Message appeared on the screen. I was puzzled. I'd made no mention of myself in any posts since joining. I'd never implied my gender, geographic location, immigrant status - Nothing. No one knew me there, and my posting profile was empty. So why was anyone contacting me? And yet it read,

"The average Joe wouldn't know the term 'diadromous' ~ are you a biologist, too?"