Tag: Environment

Sailing

I can’t get this off my mind. Notably the song by Christopher Cross keeps bouncing around in my memory banks. Maybe writing about it will help.

I enjoy sailing more than most outdoor endeavors. Living on the shores of a lake many years ago I had a motor boat, a Sea-Doo, a wind surfer, and two sail boats at different times. Of them all, I most liked the sail boats.

Motor boats get you where you want to go – with minimal effort – but with noise and fossil fuels. Sailing, on the other hand, is a peaceful past time, even with the work of trimming the sails, tacking and gybing, and manning the tiller. Sailing, at least for me, was about the journey, not the getting there.

I never got onto the Sea-Doo too much. It scooted around the lake in a hurry, capable of twisting and turning in little space and time. But as a solo ride, I found it lacking for actually enjoying the lake. The motor boat was fun with people aboard and allowed us to tug skis or an innertube for the kids. The wind surfer was a rush! It was also a lot of work, made harder in that I never had a harness and thus was dependent upon only my arms to keep the mast vertical and the sail filled with wind.

Most of my memories of sailing are good ones. The mini-scow, like the one shown in this picture, was a lot of fun for solo sailing and also with two people. It was only fourteen feet long so…

It failed one day when my son and I took it out early (or maybe late, I don’t remember) in the season when it was chilly and windy. A couple hundred meters from shore we were leaning over the windward side in the heavy wind when the mast snapped sending us backwards into the chilly, choppy water in an instant. The mast caught my son in the head, fortunately without much damage done. We were both dazed, bobbing up and down with the waves, wondering what had happened. I think I remember being caught under the sail for a bit. I got a replacement mast but sold the boat to a friend shortly thereafter.

On to a wide-body day sailboat like this one only a bit smaller. I enjoyed tooling around the lake with a little more stability and comfort. It was great for two people to relax and enjoy the ride but still had enough sail, main and jib, to move across the water with relative ease.

Though I have moved recently, I still live near a large body of water and have seen sail boats in the distance when I venture to the lake. I am reminded how much I enjoyed sailing. It’s been years since I have sailed. I hope to glide quietly atop the water again some day soon. I think it will be like riding a bike, as they say. I can pick up again easily with what I knew how to do. Until then I’ll rely on fond memories and music to keep my hopes alive.

Fun with Water Fowl

I’ve shared pictures of the view from my apartment windows. Sunsets, clouds, the pond, all new and exciting. Recently, I’ve been blessed with sounds and views of what I consider special birds visiting the pond outside my windows.

Within the last two weeks I have spied the following:

Some of these have been easy to see while others I identified by sound, and later spied, with the aid of the Merlin app by CornellLab, from the Ornithology Department of Cornell University, on my phone. It’s a great tool with amazing “hearing” to identify bird species by listening to their various calls. It also allows one to identify by description, and save documentation of where and when the birds are identified. It is available at The Apple Store and Google Play. I highly recommend it.

I heard a new sound while on my balcony about a week ago and thought I eyed a couple familiar birds. I quickly pulled out the Merlin app to listen and confirm what I thought I knew. There were two Belted King Fishers flitting among the branches of the big dead tree. They seemed to be playing games, taking off and returning to different branches. What fun!

September first I thought I saw more Double-crested Cormorants, but they did not sound the same. Again, Merlin confirmed by sound what I thought I saw through my scope. A pair of Green Herons were in the same tree. This is in deed a popular perch for many different bird species.

I was able to get some pics of two of the larger birds listed above, the Great Blue Heron and the American While Pelican. I have at least mentioned both of these huge birds in prior posts. This week I want to share the view from my balcony and/or windows.

First, and most often seen, is the Great Blue Heron. These beauties never cease to amaze me, whether taking off, in flight, or landing. Their majesty enthralls me as they stand motionless near the water’s shore or slowly walk, stalking their prey of small fish and frogs. Here is a shot taken on September 3rd.

This guy has graced the pond many times, sometimes swooping into a dead tree just as dark descends. Other times I find him perching, neck tucked (as in this photo) or extended, in the morning as it hunts for its breakfast. Last week it was accompanied by two younger versions tentatively entering the water, appearing to mimic their parent.

Tuesday of this week (09/17/2024) I opened the shade just as I got out of bed, to find this beauty slowly wading along the shoreline, gobbling who knows what along the way. He made a couple tours around the pond, providing ample opportunity to see one of my favorite birds acting natural in ways I’ve never witnessed before.

  • Huge bird. Huge Wingspan.
  • The attack!
  • The capture.
  • Looks satisfied, doesn’t it?!

My former home was across the street from a pond. There were many water fowl there, the most exciting being an Osprey. Now I live in a place actually overlooking a more natural, mature pond. There are Osprey here too. But I had little expectation that I would be so entertained by the variety of birds I get to witness on a daily basis. All this in addition to turtles, ducks, and surfacing fish! I await what Autumn and Winter wonders I will see!

Magnificent Bird Adventures

Traveling back and forth between central and eastern Iowa so many times this last month (moving to and from) has provided me with ample opportunities to enjoy the magnificence of its Summer landscape, various farm crops and animals, and wildlife. Rolling on a hybrid of four-lane and two-lane highways brings me closer to nature than does the interstate system, while getting me to my destinations in a reasonable amount of time.

I was accompanied this past Tuesday by Ben, my son’s stepson, for company and assistance in packing and transporting some of my belongings. As a tall, strong thirteen-year-old, I knew he could handle laborious and heavy tasks that I either could not or did not want to tackle by myself.

A huge brown owl provided our first surprise entertainment when we had to backtrack to help out my son’s being stranded at a car rental store. It launched itself from a large tree just right of the two-lane, flying directly overhead as it crossed the road. Magnificent! I rarely see owls, even while hiking in the woods. They blend in so well and perch so still as they survey the forest floors for the many rodents that scurry through the undergrowth, brush and fallen leaves. What a sight to see with wings extended in full regale!

Having crossed over the Iowa River at Coralville Reservoir several times over the past few weeks, I was aware that this is the time of year for the late summer pelican migration. There is an Audubon outlook on the north side of the lake, on the road to East Amana, with plaques that describe these huge, majestic, white and black wetlands birds, and their migration patterns. If you are reading this and in the area, Sunday is the Annual Pelican Festival that takes place at the outlook.

On Tuesday, as Ben and I were crossing over the reservoir area, I began to describe the festival when we spotted between 50 and 100 birds at water’s edge, while some flew low and slow as they glided in for their landings. And if you have ever seen a pelican squadron soaring high above the earth, you know how they shimmer white, then disappear against an azure blue sky, only to reemerge as the entire squadron changes direction, white wings fully extended and synchronized, reflecting the light of the sun. It is truly an amazing sight in nature.

Now fully loaded with boxes and totes, we backtracked our route to central Iowa. A very routine drive is interrupted only by a five mile stretch of two-lane on a four-lane highway under construction, and the periodic threat of rain or storms that typically build out of the west.

This day was different. Not far from where Mr. Owl surprised and excited us several hours earlier, a Red Tail Hawk flew just above car level and across the road in front of us pouncing on an unsuspecting rodent in the median just to my left. If you’ve ever witnessed such an event, you know how the hawk appears to revel in its victory and upcoming tasty feast – unless it is saved for its young in a nest perched somewhere in a dead or dying tree.

Birds, and particularly birds of prey, are a highlight of any day during which I have the blessing of witnessing them soaring, hovering, and hunting. The majesty of pelicans, cranes, and herons exemplify the wonder of regal flight. The kind of flight I have only dreamed of, mastering the breezes, pondering our magnificent world below. I can hardly wait for my next magnificent bird adventure.

Life on Earth

While visiting family I find myself not only in different surroundings, but with different stimuli while on an elevated deck contemplating the universe.

My first encounters were with subtropical weather. High humidity, higher heat, the build up of rain-filled clouds during afternoons and evenings, sometimes precipitating overnight. Everything is lush and green, not unlike home, but in the hills of Georgia, tall trees are prevalent, reaching for the comforting embrace of the firmament, surrounding the houses and streets, hiding much of the sky that I normally see at home.

As I looked up between the towering foliage I saw the sky – our atmosphere – in a way that I don’t remember realizing before. Like a 60-mile thick blanket it warms us. It cools us, nourishes us, and protects us from external universal forces that would otherwise make life on earth impossible.

As the building, billowing clouds mixed with the azure sky framed in tall pine and tulip trees, I somehow understood our earthly blanket’s lifegiving significance. At the same time I felt that it, as other living beings on earth, is threatened by how humanity treats this unique, amazing phenomenon. It left me simultaneously in awe and in fear.

Returning to the deck on another afternoon, life touched me in a very different way. A dragonfly landed in a potted orange tree next to me. I was struck not only by its beauty, but also by the complexity of its body, by its wing structure, transparent and framed in blue , and the attachment to its torso. Its eyes and mouth (basically its face) conjured human-like attributes. What an amazing being. What an amazing manifestation of life on earth!

When I moved it flew, only to return in seconds to the same or nearby branch, staring at me and I at it. So I spoke to it. It seemed to nod in understanding as I expressed my appreciation of its beauty and life force. Again it flew. Again it returned. I decided to approach it directly from ahead. I extended my hand. It stayed. I touched its hair-thin black legs. It stayed until I tried to lift them in hopes of having it transfer to my finger. It flew.

Walking away to the other end of the deck I felt so in touch with life on earth. I thought, wouldn’t it be wonderful to become so aware and connected to life on this earth that, in the end, I would simply fade away into it, mixing my energy with the plants and animals, the air and the sky. Finally, I would be one with life on earth. Maybe I already am.

Strange and Wonderful Sounds

My ears were subjected to a cacophony of sounds as soon as I opened the car door. I knew immediately that it was cicadas. I’d heard a few at home, but nothing like the constant noise I heard from the parking lot at Squire Point. Returning after several weeks of on and off travel, it was great to be back. But the sound!

Having donned my boots and trekking poles, I set off to enjoy the trail. Last autumn’s prescribed burn coupled with ample spring rain allowed the undergrowth amongst the trees to flourish in stature and color. Patchy sunshine filtering through the majestic, aged trees dappled shades of greens and browns on trees and undergrowth alike.

But the sound. It didn’t take long to identify three distinct types of cicada music. The constant background of whining permeated the forest. Difficult to identify, it was something like a mechanical whirring of mid-range tones, like that of a fan in need of lubrication. Its volume changed only as I ambled through the woods. Clearly there were areas of higher cicada concentrations in the trees. But the sound never abated while I was outside of the car.

I passed smaller swarms of the bumblebee sized insects along the path. Their sound was more like the incessant buzzing we are familiar with. Louder than the constant whirring throughout the forest, the chatter undulated at different decibel levels as I passed, louder then softer, then louder again in a coordinated symphony of winged instruments.

Closer, I could hear individual cicadas in the nearby trees extending their invitations to females in hopes of completing the mating act during their short, 24 hour adult life. Watching the path below and ahead as I often do, I saw the remains of those who’s time had passed. In some cases, I saw only a pair of wings. Other forest critters having hauled off and feasted on the other remains.

Traversing Squire Point and entering Woodpecker Trail, there was actually a fourth sound. I thought it might be a nearly silent drone or some kind of electric bike, barely audible compared to the singing (not really singing, but…) bugs. I turned to look and saw a single cicada flying, then landing on a nearby fern. Such a delicate contrasting sound, and enlightening new experience!

Winding my way back along the matted dirt and naturally mulched path, I found myself hearing something different. Smaller, nearby cicada swarms were absent. For the first time this day I could hear the breeze high up in the trees. Its cooling refreshment barely reaching pathway level. Now that’s a familiar sound. But short-lived. Hike a few meters forward and back into the din.

Nearly five miles later, I was back at my vehicle. Take off the boots and put on shoes. Stow the trekking poles and drink the rest of my water. Looking down I found a wayward interloper at my feet. Yep. A cicada.

Above the twig, just below my thigh

Time to go. I got in and shut the door. OMG!!! It’s quiet! I didn’t realize just how loud the cicadas were.

As a side note, I was driving along the back roads east of the reservoir last week and thought my hearing devices were malfunctioning. I kept hearing a faint buzzing come and go. Since I have had a similar problem with them in the past, I took one out, and then the other. But I could still hear the noise as I meandered along the narrow, unmarked asphalt roads. I finally realized that, from time to time, I was passing swarms of cicadas. Who knew?!

Another thing I realized while on my hike today. I’m going to miss this natural world when my time comes – hopefully not soon.

What Can’t We Do?

Fire was used beginning approximately two million years ago and was in constant habitual use by about 400,000 years ago. The discovery and use of fire by Homo erectus is tied to the evolution of the human species and helped propel human civilizations from the Stone Age into the Bronze Age.

Study.com

No one knows for sure when language evolved, but fossil and genetic data suggest that humanity can probably trace its ancestry back to populations of anatomically modern Homo sapiens (people who would have looked like you and me) who lived around 150,000 to 200,000 years ago in eastern or perhaps southern Africa [4,5,6]. Because all human groups have language, language itself, or at least the capacity for it, is probably at least 150,000 to 200,000 years old. This conclusion is backed up by evidence of abstract and symbolic behaviour in these early modern humans, taking the form of engravings on red-ochre [7, 8].

BMC Biology

Agricultural communities developed approximately 10,000 years ago when humans began to domesticate plants and animals. By establishing domesticity, families and larger groups were able to build communities and transition from a nomadic hunter-gatherer lifestyle dependent on foraging and hunting for survival.

National Geographic

There is some evidence of human worked metal from as much as 6000 BC but not firmly dated and clearly a “tool”. Simple copper tools were probably made as early as 4200 BC. Only rarely were identifiable harder tools made from meteorites, dated to 3200 BC.

Quorta

The wheel was invented in the 4th millennium BC in Lower Mesopotamia(modern-​​day Iraq), where the Sumerian people inserted rotating axles into solid discs of wood. It was only in 2000 BC that the discs began to be hollowed out to make a lighter wheel. This innovation led to major advances in two main areas.

Citeco.fr

As early as the third century BCE, they were using crucibles to smelt wrought iron with charcoal to produce ‘wootz’ steel – a material that is still admired today for its quality. Chinese craftsmen were also manufacturing high-quality steel.

The Steel Story – woodsteel.org

I could go on and on. Development of the calendar, mathematics, astronomy, the scientific revolution, the industrial revolution, technology and the digital age. But this isn’t meant to be a history lesson on the development of humankind. Rather, I had hoped to keep it simple. Mankind has learned or made progress in a multitude of advances that keep us at the top of the evolutionary ladder. It seems there is nothing we cannot do – except live together in peace!

However, as I pondered this further, maybe it isn’t so simple. Or maybe it can all be rolled up into that one thing we have made no apparent progress. We have developed the ways and means to feed the world. But we don’t. We have cured many diseases and found ways to mitigate the effects of many more. Yet we don’t make the cures and treatments available to all. Shelter, clothing, water, space, all are basic human needs. And we don’t think it necessary to provide them.

I believe in capitalism. But greed is antithetical to living together without hatred for those who have, by those who do not. History also tells us that, as our world sets obstacles in the way of survival, humans’ survival instinct, the one that got us to the top of the ladder, turns further inward, toward or against each other.

We dominate every living thing on this earth. We have mostly mastered every inert object on and within it as well. We are even trying to dominate our atmosphere and environment. Based on our past successes, we may just be able to do it.

Yet it begs the question. With all our abilities to reason, communicate, manipulate, master all that is set before us, why can’t we figure out how to use them to benefit all humankind, not to mention every other living thing? From what I have seen in my short lifespan, we have made little, if any, progress.

It’s not that some don’t try. But when push comes to shove, the shoving is done by those who believe that the only way to survive is to control or eliminate everyone else who is either different, in need, or unable to provide for themselves. It seems that it is true that history, particularly human history, is doomed to repeat itself. I wish I had some answers.

With so many physical, environmental, health, and political challenges facing us and our posterity, it is easy to be discouraged or cynical about our future. But you and I do have a say as whether we destroy each other and our planet. This is my say! There may be dark days ahead. No doubt there will be natural obstacles to challenge our survival. We can choose to help as many as possible, or just a chosen few. What will I do? What will you do?

In the not-so-eloquent words of my wife on her death bed, “This [too] is bullshit!”

Anything and Nothing

Musing to my sister of my difficulty deciding on what to write, she suggested I write about nothing. I could write about anything; too broad. Nothing; too narrow.

Where does that leave me? I guess I’ll try writing anything about nothing in particular. But what does that look like? How would it sound? What can I show that you would want to see?

Samuel Clemens, later known as Mark Twain was born in Florida, Missouri on November 30th 1835. He died on April 21st 1910. Both his birth and death coincided with the perihelion of Halley’s Comet. You can read a short, but interesting bio here. Do you know how he came about with the name Mark Twain? I’ve always been intrigued by these tidbits of trivia.

Writing about domestic politics and issues, or world events, is too fraught with diverse and conflicting opinions to share my thoughts and opinions thereof. It’s a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World! Different subject, but it sounds right.

I’m having even more trouble than usual getting into the holiday spirit. I’ve never been good at it on my own, but Pam made it exciting and fun by her joy and enthusiasm, and her loving, giving nature. I don’t think I’m a scrooge. I don’t use any form of the term “bah, humbug”, but I suppose that I come across that way sometimes.

By this date of the year, we would already have at least one card table set up with scotch tape dispensers (Yes, multiple. Got to have the double-sided variety too.), ribbon spools, straight and squiggle-cutting scissors, you get the idea. And it’s not just the big gifts. It’s the little “stocking stuffers” that often delighted her most.

I left home with four inches of snow on the ground. It was a deep and wide swath, as I was through Missouri and into southern Illinois before the last traces disappeared in the fields and in the wooded hills. Enjoying the landscape and topography along the highways and byways as I drive is still a life’s little pleasure for me. I am constantly reminded of how much Pam enjoyed the scenery and we so enjoyed experiencing our travels together.

I also realized on Thursday the extent to which caring for Pam during her illness and grieving for her (and myself) after her death, zapped my energy. Now, however, I am being energized, and I like to think it is her universal energy, through pleasant memories of her, and of our life together. I recognize how her energy enlivens me still. It doesn’t make the pain go away, but I think it does put salve on the wound.

I hope to have something specific to write about next week, rather than anything about nothing. I will try to convey the experience of transitioning my Mother from home care to memory care. But it may be too raw to put into words yet at that time. Meanwhile I continue to consider topics to write about because I enjoy the writing. And based on reader responses, you enjoy it too.

Well, I kind of wrote about anything. But it turned out not to be about nothing. Now that I think about it, that’s difficult to do. If you get nothing out of the reading but enjoyment, that’s something too. In fact, that’s everything my writing is about. And that’s not nothing either.

Compost Posting

Note: Thanks to Jan for the concept. I don’t know what I would have written about this week otherwise 🙂 You can skip to the bottom to get to the point of all this verbiage if you like.

Cooking for two people is challenging. But usually, leftovers are consumed quickly without much food waste. Open bags, cans, and bottles sometimes remain in the refrigerator too long and their contents must be discarded. Cooking for one creates significantly increased challenges.

Each day and week for many years I’ve been disappointed whenever I throw rotten food or leftovers in the trash, or through the disposal and into our water treatment system for that matter. This coincides with efforts to minimize paper and plastic waste and recycle whatever is allowed by our city/waste management company.

The city offers an option to rent a 20+ gallon container on wheels in which I must place a $1.85 yard bag to fill and put out at the curb for pick up. It would take me weeks to fill, and I would most likely replace it often, adding to the cost. I convinced myself that the “aroma” would overwhelm me and my garage long before. Plus having to find space to keep a third container.

Normal recycling has been and is going well. Now that I am single, I rarely have more than one “trash” bag to put out each week. And with an 85 gallon recycling bin, and all that I recycle, I still only put it out to the curb every two or three weeks. I feel good about that. It may not be much in the scheme of what our society wastes each day, but as they say, “Every little bit helps.”

My son has a large family of seven and a corner lot with a big yard. I envy his energy and ingenuity to build a rain water retention system, complete with solar powered, battery operated pump system to supply water for his extensive garden and small orchard. Additionally, he implemented a two-barrel composting station that supplies nutrition to the garden. He and his family are proactive about saving composting material every day (which can be significant with seven people, even when there are few leftovers – as you can imagine). My daughter’s family saves compostable materials in a small covered can on their counter. There is a convenient drop-off a few blocks away where new insert bags are also freely supplied.

Which brings me back to my plight. Knowing that they, and others, find some way to compost, whether privately or through public options, exacerbates my guilt feelings when I throw too much leftover or old food in the trash! So I researched my options. The least appealing was the city option. With the storage issues and an ongoing payment plan, it was easy to eliminate.

I seriously considered the rotating drum option. But the combination of where to house it, and keep it accessible even in the dead of winter, and the need to keep an interim container in the kitchen or garage, made this a cumbersome, though slightly more attractive option than that provided by the city.

Ah, Amazon! A myriad of options, as usual. Almost so many one can get lost trying to compare and choose. I decided to concentrate on countertop electric composters. Still, many options. Read the features. Read the reviews. Watch the videos. I know you’ve all done the same for whatever device you’ve considered buying.

Having made a decision after days of angst, I purchased the Airthereal Revive Electric Kitchen Composter, 2.5L Capacity with SHARKSDEN® Tri-Blade, Turn Food Waste and Scraps into Dry Compost Fertilizer for Plants. A big decision! Expensive! Worth it!

Composting my coffee grounds, tea leaves, table scraps, even rotten cottage cheese, gives me a feeling of doing something good! I’ve already “made” about a gallon of compost in a couple weeks, running it about every other day. The charcoal filter nearly eliminates any odor (it smells a bit like something is baking in the oven), and the sound is similar to a quiet dishwasher. I am impressed with this unit.

I don’t have a garden – yet. I do have plants and landscaping, and some lawn areas in much need of fill and nutrition. I do have room for a garden. It might be my next step in being food and planet friendly.

Back to the top to wind your way through how I got to the point