Climate Change – Stone Fig

Return for the Swifts

Two years ago (Fire Swifts, 3 July 2020) I wrote about enjoying the flight of Chimney Swifts (Chaetura pelagica) while I sat on my back patio. In summer mornings and evenings I could see a flight of ten to twenty Swifts gliding above my house and over the close-at-hand stand of trees as they sought and caught flying insects that lived in the trees, under the leaves, on the branches and trunks. The Swifts also gobbled up the mosquitoes that liked to breed in the ponds along the stream beneath the trees.

But now the Swifts are mostly gone. Sometimes when I am working in my yard I might hear twittering in he sky. I look up and might see three to five Swifts overhead.

Have I noticed a change in the number of insects I have to swat or other troublesome flying insects? Not so much, but maybe there are more gnats this year than in others.

Where did the Swifts go? I have no idea. But I hope they found a place to their liking and have not just become part of the 5 billion songbirds that we lost since 1970. That comes to a false number average of 60 million birds lost in each of those years. If we were to think of birds as people that is Nine Times the population of the United States lost each year. Now it sounds like a big number.

There are numerous factors that are leading to a decline in the number of songbirds in the United States. These factors include: tall buildings – birds crash into them during their migrations; feral cats – put out of the house at night kill millions of song birds each year; diseases – some of which are suspected of becoming more prevalent due to the warming climate; and habitat destruction – when our towns and cities and suburbs are changed to accommodate our expanding population.

I believe the main reason that I do not see my Chimney Swifts wheeling overhead in the early morning and at twilight is because of habitat destruction.

Was there some forest that was cut down in my neighborhood? No; the last large tract of timbered grazing area in my town was destroyed and filled with houses in the 1990s. Swifts might live in hollowed out trees that happened to stand in an old forest.

Audubon tells a story of when we was cataloguing and painting the birds of North America of finding a tall, hollowed out sycamore tree in Kentucky. He stepped inside and found it filled with Chimney Swifts which had made nests on the interior walls of their “chimney”.

My Swifts had no such palatial home as I believe they nested in an old brick chimney of a boiler/heater for a small hotel on the highway near my house. When the motel was torn down to make way for a gas station and store, the chimney was torn down. This was the same time that my Swifts disappeared. I have made the assumption that the Swifts nested in the old chimney.

Is there a way to bring the Swifts back to the area of my neighborhood?

I think there is.

A quick search of the internet (searching “Swift Tower”) turns up initiatives by individuals, groups and communities to maintain a healthy and helpful population of the insect-eating Swifts. The individuals and groups do not build free standing brick chimneys. They build stand alone “Swift Towers”. Several State Audubon societies have articles on building Swift Towers on both private and public lands. There are links on these pages to other organizations as well, including designs for the towers. As one article states, if you are asked what you are building, just tell them it’s a bird house.

And what of my small population of Swifts. I will approach the company that is building the gas station, and tell them the story of my neighborhood Swifts. And I will ask them if they would build a Swift Tower to replace the old chimney.

And for my City I plan to attend a council meeting and ask that they consider requesting that any companies that are tearing down old establishments that have chimneys to replace that chimney with a Swift Tower.

I think the twittering I hear in the mornings and evenings is worth that little bit of effort.

Audubon Society of Western Pennsylvania (ASWP) is supporting Chimney Swift protection through a variety of approaches. We have installed nearly 150 Chimney Swift towers to provide breeding habitats for these birds. Audubon’s Chimney Swift Tower Program | Audubon Society of Western PA (aswp.org)

John James Audubon’s experience in visiting a large dead sycamore tree filled with the nests of Chimney Swifts is provided at American Swift | John James Audubon’s Birds of America. He estimated their number to be 9,000.

To read more information about the decline of our songbird population see the 2019 study as published in Science magazine. It may be found at – Nearly 3 Billion Birds Gone | Birds, Cornell Lab of Ornithology and Where Have the Songbirds Gone? | NASA Applied Sciences

Fighting Climate Change

“Give me a fast ship, because I intend to go into harm’s way.” John Paul Jones

In this decade, the nations of the world must come together to protect our Earth from the effects of our industries of the last several hundred years.

Our vessel must be worthy, if it is not, we will not succeed.

The 2021 report by the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) will be the starting point of these Stone Fig Climate Change postings. The IPCC is a body of the United Nations tasked to assess the science related to climate change. Created in 1988, the objective of the IPCC is to provide all levels of government with scientific information that can be utilized in developing climate policy.

Its website may be found at IPCC — Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change.

The IPCC not only provides information to the nations of the world but to each of us as well. It is appropriate that we should understand the reports by the IPCC. Our nation and other nations will use this 2021 Report, and the reports that follow, to establish climate change policy and regulations.

To support our country, we the people, must have a basic understanding of the chemical and physical processes within our Earth’s climate. We should be able to understand and have a reasoned opinion on the actions developed to combat climate change. The basic principles and ideas of climate processes can be easily found, and refreshed through numerous sites on the internet.

When we read the reports and the proposed laws and regulations it is appropriate for us to use our personal skills of critical thinking to determine whether the proposed regulations are supported by the science. The regulations passed and the support we give to the enforcement of those regulations will determine whether we have a “worthy vessel” and whether or not we will, in the end, succeed.

I will focus my Climate Change postings on reading the documents published by the IPCC. I will start with the Summary for Policymakers (SPM) from the 2021 United Nations Climate Change Report. The SPM may be found at IPCC_AR6_WGI_SPM_final.pdf.

The SPM begins with an assessment of “The Current State of the Climate”. In this assessment reference is made to “AR5” which is the IPCC 5^th Assessment Report (AR5). The SPM states that since AR5 was released in 2013 improvements have been made in recording the geologic records of ancient paleoclimate. These ancient records are reached by taking core samples of glaciers, tree rings, and sediments from the ocean floors. These core samples can provide us with climate records that reach back long before the early industrial age of the 1700s and 1800s. According to the United States Geological Survey (USGS) the study of Paleoclimate provides an essential perspective for assessing the potential impacts of future climate on “natural systems and the people who rely on them”. Scientists use the geologic evidence of past climate changes to understand the rates and patterns of Earth systems’ responses to a broad range of climate and landscape changes. When integrated into climate models these paleoclimate data provide a means to improve our understanding of the impacts of climate change.

When we review just the last 100 years, we can see the beginning of a significant increase in average global temperature. This is shown in Figure SPM.1 of the SPM. The graph is shown below.

In my view, after the Second World War (1945) the nations of the world, led by historically industrialized nations and nations with the resources to become industrialized nations, began a significant increase in activity These activities reinforced the change from farm-based/agrarian activities as primary human-activity to that of industrial-labor activities which had begun in the 1800s. To support these industrial-labor activities our collective power requirements for light, energy, transport, and transportation increased apace with this change.

This increase can be seen in the graph above.

It can be seen from the graph that in the last 50 years the average global surface temperature has increased at a average rate of 0.018 degrees Celsius (C) per year. This is an increase of 0.9 degrees C in 50 years. The upward angle of the graph will likely continue to rise if something is not done. What is “something”? It is action by each person, by every nation, to reduce the effect of human-activities that contribute to the increases in average global temperature.

To borrow a phrase from the movie Jaws, “We are going to need a bigger boat.”

We are in need of a revolution against our own past.

I am not saying the past was wrong or evil. Those activities built a standard of living for the people of the industrialized world who should now help raise the standard of living in the non-industrialized world.

We are on the threshold of a new age. We will step through; but what will we find?

If we do not address the rising global temperature and the changes to the climate it is causing, the poorer will suffer even more, and the rich will become poor and suffer as well. If we address the issues of climate change we can likely maintain a standard of living and can raise up those who do not yet have it.

In the pictures below of heroes of the American Revolution we see the spirit of the men and women who chose to fight to bring change to their way of government. Would they be ruled, or would they govern themselves?

We have to fight again, but this time against ourselves. We must use our individual critical skills to determine what actions each of us can take and should take. Then we must act!

The future does not belong to the timid.

We are all called. These pictures of John Paul Jones and Molly Pitcher (Mary Hays/McCauly) call to mind the fight that is ahead and the determination with which we must face it.

Their fight was for a new nation in a new world. Our fight is one to save the world for ourselves, for our descendants, and for all of life on the planet.

Picture “Captain John Paul Jones” 1938, by N.C.Wyeth

Figure SPM.1 copied from Summary for Policy Makers, 2021 United Nations Climate Change Report

Picture “Molly Pitcher at the Battle of Monmouth ” 1912, by C. Y. Turner

Ride in Death Valley

I have alluded in several posts that I traveled for my work. I was an engineer in the federal government and served several agencies. My work usually involved environmental compliance and land/real estate management for those agencies. My work often took me to California and New Mexico. When I would go out to the west coast which was generally once a year, I would usually stay at least a week and sometimes two in order to meet with personnel from the several installations that I had cognizance or purview over.

My agenda for a two-week trip included visits and discussions with installations in San Diego, Los Angeles, a large installation in the California desert. This desert installation was close to Death Valley and as I had to drive up to Los Angeles for my next site visit, on the Saturday I was traveling I decided to drive up the east side of the Sierra Nevada Mountains and see what there was to see. This route took me past Death Valley. I had never seen it, so I decided to make a stop and see it.

I started driving north on CA-395. This was all strange territory to me not only being from the east coast, but it was the rocks, the shapes, the plants, and the different birds that intrigued me. As I drove north, I came to a place called the Alabama Hills. The formations looked like giant stones had been dumped out onto the ground. The tumbled formations of rocks were intriguing. I found a place to park and climbed on the rocks while looking for the fish-filled brooks and pools that the signs implied were round there. The hills of stone looked like an old movie set, and were actually used in numerous westerns since the formations were so striking.

I left the Alabama Hills and continued north on CA-395. Soon I was in a dust storm as the wind was blowing in from the east across what I learned was Owen’s Dry Lake. At one time it had been a fresh water lake feed by the Owens River. The Owens River was used to support agriculture in the valley, and later it was diverted to supply Los Angeles with water. I stopped and looked out over the sandy flats that had once been covered in water. The alkali dust drove me back into my car.

The next road to the east, in the direction of the dry lake bed, had a sign that said to me, Turn here for Death Valley. Who had not heard of that tortuous place? We had played cowboys back in the east and roamed an imaginary Death Valley. From countless Saturday matinees we knew it as the driest and the hottest place the United States, if not the entire planet.

I followed the road to the east, not knowing what I might find. The road, CA-190, draped around the east side of the dry lake. I stopped on that far side and got out of my car to look at it again. I could see more now as the wind was blowing at my back. The dust was no longer blowing into my face as it had been at my first stop. I drove on toward Death Valley. And now, about every mile or so, I saw a car pulled to the opposite side of the road with a bicycle rack on top. As I saw more and more of these cars I realized there was probably a bike rally or a race going on.

On the south side of CA-109 I saw the crest of a volcanic dike or a collapsed volcanic lava tube now exposed and weathered. I stopped and walked along one. It looked like a great place for rattlesnakes and scorpions, so I kept a respectful distance. I set up my camera tripod and took several pictures to send to Geology professor including the self-portrait above. Then I packed my camera gear and continued on my way.

By the time I reached Father Crowley Point, I had seen a dozen cars with bike racks along the road. At the parking lot for Father Crowley Overlook there were several more parked. I stopped to ask what was going on.

I was told yes, there was a bike race. It was the famed and feared Whitney Classic. This race starts at Badwater Basin on the east side of Death Valley. The course crosses the Valley and then ascends on the road I was on to the top of the Darwin Plateau, and on past Owens Dry Lake. The race continues into the foothills of the Sierra Nevada Mountains and then climbs to the Whitney Portals. The race is 136 miles long and includes an elevation rise 14,704 feet, nearly a 3-mile gain in elevation.

My plan to visit the floor of Death Valley was breaking down. I had to be in Los Angeles that night for a business meeting the following day. We would work the weekend when I got there. But I started my descent into Death Valley. As I went down I began to see the lead groups of bikers passing me as they went up the road. I realized that I would likely get stuck behind larger groups of racers who were following the leaders. If I got behind them, they would slow down or block my exit from the park. It could cost me hours of lost time. I found a wide spot in the road and turned around to go back to the top of the plateau.

The Wilson Classic is an endurance bike race. I was glad to have seen the edges of it. And I was glad to have glimpsed Death Valley from the height of Father Crowley Point. And I had gotten out and marveled at the lava dike which was only a part a small part of this tortuous and wonderous terrain. Perhaps on my next trip I will go up to the verdant forests of the Whitney Portals and listen to the babble of Lone Pine Creek.

Death Valley as seen from the area of he Father Crowley Overlook; photo by Daniel Perez posted to Google Earth.

Young Man/Old Man

The tree has stood here for generations. Its wrinkled features speak of Springs and hot Summers and Winter storms and Fall Hurricanes rolling out of the Sea.

Yet here it stands. Right where the mountain man had stopped over 300 years before, and leaning on his staff he paused to look out to the Sea beyond the valley – and he has stayed here – still thinking. His hand clutches the shaft of his staff. You can see his fingertips curling around from the back of the shaft as he rests his temple against his hand. His hair is blown upwards and back as he stares stonily out towards the distant Sea.

The years have washed soil and stones and leaves out of the hills above so that the man’s shoulders and torso and hips and legs are now buried deep below. Yet still he stands and looks outward and wonders. When he decides, will he rise up and tear his roots from deep within the earth and walk these hills again?

These are tales of the deep woods.

The young man pushed out by his tribe,

Walked toward the sound of the Sea.

He crossed mountain peak and fast glacial stream.

He forded broad rivers.

He climbed stones as if they were steps to the top of the ridge.

And from his new vantage point he could see the great Sea before him.

He leaned his head on his staff and he wept, because he had found Ocean, his mother.

What would he say to her when she saw him and rose up? Would she be in a fury? Would she rejoice that he had found his way back to her?

He leaned on his staff, for a year, and another, and another ten and then a hundred and then more.

He stands there still wondering how he will be greeted when he reaches the rolling wave and the murmur of shale rolling in the retreating wave.

What will he say that he has accomplished? Who will he say that he has helped? Has he made his path a better place? Has the world benefited from his life?

He leaps up and leaves his body behind, still, standing, staring.

His spirit goes out and back along his path to correct what he has damaged.

When he sees a tired person sitting next to the road, the wind blows down and refreshes the weary. The rain falls upon the parched . The sun shines on the lonely.

The young man in the wind and rain and sunshine is rebuilding his story.

And he will smile.

One day he will return to this tree and shake loose the binding roots and finish his walk to the Sea and be greeted with joy.

This is one of the trees that I remember. There are many others. These are the trees I see while I am in the woods. They speak to me as the warm spring rains patter down on their budding branches. When the Summer storm whips the limbs and branches, they howl with strength. When the Winter winds bring snow and ice that crackles on the branches when the sun returns and when I cross the snowy field to visit them, they moan and creak like an old gate on rusted hinges.. The trees are always with me, they are everywhere. They are of many ages, and they always welcome me to the deep forest and woods by the lane.

Some have forgotten how to leaf and bud and leaf, but still stand as a home for birds and squirrels and the members of the fourth kingdom, the fungus that returns the tree to the soil. Some have fallen in the wind. Some have fallen to the ax. But they all live on in my memory and in the memory of all who visited them and touched their bark, or played in their shade, or picked up their Fall leaf form the ground. Or watched a bird fly among its branches.

They are our friends. Each has its story. You must listen to hear it being told.

Birds Range of the Home

In 2017 I was conducting bird surveys as a volunteer at the Manassas Battlefield National Park. I was helping to catalogue the presence of two species, The Northern Bob White Quail and the Henslow’s Sparrow. The Park Wildlife Management personnel and I were interested in seeking out the birds in selected areas of the Park

I would go out to the Bob White areas in the early morning hours so I could be there in time for sunrise. I usually went out earlier than necessary, and I walked well-known paths to be at the listening point while it was still dark. I would pack-out a folding chair and a thermos of coffee. When I got the listening point, I would sit and watch the stars in their motion across the night sky and see them fade as night turned into Dawn. At Dawn I opened my coffee thermos, and poured a cup, and toasted the new day.

The survey was conducted in the Spring and we would listen for the daybreak calls of the coveys of quail we hope to hear. There were twenty of these sites scattered around the Park. The Park personnel and I divided the sites up so we could cover all of them during scope of the annual survey.

The sky might be clear when I went out in the early morning before dawn, but on the ground it was dark. If I had not had several decades of experience in walking the Park, I might have gotten turned around. I wrote about my experience in an article titled Frosty Morning and published on this site on 15 November 2018.

The Park personnel and I would often talk about the birds of the Park and how we thought that they would be affected by climate change, especially as the average temperatures warmed in the more northern parts of the species’ range.

In order to develop a better understanding of the potential impact of climate change on bird species, I searched for related articles. A good one I found regarding bird species and changes in their range due to climate changes, was based on surveys of numerous species in Finland between 1974 and 2010.

The results are basically that yes, the ranges do change due to changes in climate. The ranges of the various bird species change with an expansion at the northern/top/cold edge. But the southern edge is not moving northward/poleward. Part of this is that a species would have to lose their niche, basically become extinct, in the southern regions in order to say that they are no longer using the southern/warm edge.

I had initially thought of a bird’s range as a box that would move north as the climate warmed. However, that does not appear to be the case. As it turns out the box stretches and gets bigger as the range extends to the North. The range expands northward with the increasing temperature and the birds take advantage of more range.

Climate change may affect a bird species physiologically in that its old range may become too hot or too wet for the bird species to thrive. They have to change or move. But these conditions, even if they do not directly affect the birds, may cause a portion of the bird’s range to become unusable at the level of the current population if a food source dies out due to the change in the overall climate, or if the food source moves out to a more acceptable range, or if the food source becomes unavailable at a time that it is need for the bird’s reproduction and life cycle. An example of this latter was published in Science New in 2006.

The first article I read about the impact of climate change on bird species was a 2006 article in Science News concerning the timing of the arrival of the European Pied Flycatcher in their nesting area. The article pointed out that the birds migrate based on the length of daylight in their wintering area in Africa. But the appearance of the caterpillars, the major food source at their nesting area for feeding their chicks, was based on temperature. With the northern temperatures warming earlier, by the time the birds arrived, the caterpillars had reached the next stage in their life cycle and are no longer available for the birds and their nesting brood. The numbers of the Flycatchers in some of their historic breeding areas had fallen by 90%. The study found “a correlation between declining Flycatcher numbers and the timing of the peak food for their chicks.”

I recently ran across a journal article concerning birds of China and the effect of climate change on their range. The article pointed out that the extension of a bird’s range may meet an obstacle that it cannot pass through. This might be a range of high mountains or an open ocean. The birds at that point have reached the limit of their range. The birds may well have to make a change in their diet or risk being unable to maintain the new range that they have colonized. For the birds to succeed in the new region they must find fruiting plants or insect or other food stuff available in an abundance on which the species colonizing the area can survive. This is especially hard if the new range is populated by a species that already relies on a limited supply of that food. The picture at the top of this article is a version of some of the charts from the article showing potential movement of species.

What about the Quail and Henslow’s Sparrow at Manassas? Will they have to move? So much of a bird’s ability to use a region is predicated on their ability to find suitable habitat. Destruction of habitat will force out a population. However, as the climate grows hotter and more humid over the next several decades these bird’s ranges may expand, but it is different for each species. The southern edge of the Quail’s range is well below us, extending into Mexico. I do not believe we will see a change in the population of Quail due to climate change. However, for Henslow’s Sparrow, here in the Mid-Atlantic region, we are between the breeding (northern) and the non-breeding (southern) range. We may lose our small, but for me dynamic, local population. There may be issues for the Henslow’s Sparrows in the southern reaches of their breeding range where we are located. as it becomes hotter and wetter. Only time will tell.

Article regarding study in Finland, The breeding ranges of Central European and Arctic bird species move poleward. may be found at: http://europepmc.org/article/PMC/3447813

Science News article (only available to subscribers to Science News) on European Pied Flycatcher may be found at: https://www.sciencenews.org/article/no-early-birds-migrators-cant-catch-advancing-caterpillars.

Article regarding range shift of Chinese birds under the potential of climate change: (PDF) Shifts in bird ranges and conservation priorities in China under climate change (researchgate.net)

Petroglyph Trail

It was 1993. We went out west to see the land and the National Parks. We traveled in the arc of the states of the Four Corners; New Mexico, Colorado, Utah, Arizona.

Our first stop was Mesa Verde National Park in southwest Colorado. We wanted to see the magnificent remains of the cliff houses built by Native Americans centuries before.

But 700 years after they built the cliff house, they left them. The community was not destroyed by fire or earthquake, but something happened, and the People left. Other People known as the Pueblo Indians came hundreds of years after the original inhabitants had left. The Pueblo Indians called the builders of the cliff houses the Ancient Ones, the Anasazi.

The Anasazi had lived on these mesas for nearly a thousand years, from approximately 600 C.E. (Common Era, after the birth of Christ) to 1300 C.E.). Then, suddenly, they had left their homes, their places of ceremony, their work, their pottery, and they had gone. It is surmised that perhaps the cause was a change in the climate that made the crops fail. Several theories have arisen, but it is generally felt that their descendants are the modern day Pueblo Indians.

When we visited the ruins of the cliff houses, we had a fascinating experience. We were able to tour some of the ancient homes and see their construction. We climbed ladders. We entered rebuilt pit houses. We hiked trails. But it always seemed that we were with a rather sizable group. And we did not see much in the way of wildlife. I would see some Mule Deer when I would go out in the early morning for a walk at sunrise. But other than that and the occasional bird heard up in the trees, it seemed as if we humans were alone on Mesa Verde.

My son, a young outdoorsman, felt the same way. He and I wanted to get on a trail that was not so heavily traveled so we might see what we might see. His interest lay in snakes. Mine did not.

We stopped at the Visitors’ Center and asked the Ranger where we might go for a hike where it was not so crowded. We thought perhaps in the forests along the rim of the mesa. We were told that at that time of day the Petroglyph Trail was usually not crowded.

We made sure we had water with us. And as always, I carried a trail map so we would know where we were. And we set off.

We quickly moved from the trail head into the pine forest that then covered much of the park. It was a well-marked trail. There were some tight spaces and steep climbs up hewn stone steps, but it was very enjoyable. The trail was about 700 feet above the canyon floor.

The trail wandered along the side of the mesa about 100 feet below its top. From our map I could tell that we had covered a good part of the trail and were approaching an area that looked out over the lower portions of the park. Near the end of the mesa, the canyon widened to meet another canyon. We would have a good view out across the canyons.

The trail had been rocky, and as we neared this point I was focused on the trail in front of me. If it hadn’t been for the sign, we might have walked right past the petroglyph panel. The sign said, “Do Not Touch”.

Touch what I thought? But it caused me to stop and look up. The petroglyphs we were looking for were high above the sign, well above the level of my head. The Petroglyphs were inscribed in the sheet of stone that formed the side of the mesa. The Petroglyphs were in good condition.

The height of the inscribed figures above the trail has doubtlessly protected the panel from damage as they are out of the reach of curious hands. The Petroglyphs were plain to see and included animals, hand prints, human shapes, and geometric designs. However, their meaning, implied by the ancient carvers, is lost in time. One circle did catch my eye as the possible cycle of the moon with the new moon hidden from view behind a mesa jutting high into the night sky.

As we walked back, we talked of the possible meaning of the glyphs and why and when they might have been carved. We talked of how some of the mysterious glyphs may have been carved by an ancient man who walked out to the point of the mesa with his son to read the messages left from before his time. Perhaps they carved a message of their own.

Our return trail crossed the top of the mesa. Before we reached the trailhead, we saw a whip-tail lizard dart across the surface of the rocks. Perhaps he was looking a bug for his dinner. He was in a hurry, so he did not become dinner for a watchful hawk.

And on this hike, no snakes.

Information on Mesa Verde National Park including trail maps can be found at https://www.nps.gov/meve/index.htm .

UPDate – Sails from Sweden

This article is an update on modern wind-propelled ocean-going ships. This was previously discussed in the article, Cylindrical Sails, posted October 1, 2018.

Naval architects and marine engineers are continually working to make ocean transport of cargo more environmentally sustainable. The vast majority of the world’s cargo whether it is manufactured goods (farm machinery or transistors/semiconductors), raw material (food stuff or metal ore), or consumer products (small appliances or clothes) are transported from point of origin to buyer by ships.

The map above is a screen shot on a summer day in the Northern Hemisphere. The number of ships traveling between ports can be seen crowding the favored shipping lanes. Other areas of the ocean are nearly empty in comparison. These shipping lanes are crowded because they are the most direct routes between ports of call. The most famous route being the Great Circle Route.

I remember as a boy seeing the ship I was traveling on being marked on its daily passage with a magnetic ship on a wall size map of the oceans. When I asked why the ship was moving up towards the North rather than going straight across the ocean, I was told that we were on the shortest route, the Great Circle Route.

This route is the shortest distance across the globe of the Earth. By taking the shortest route the ship takes less time in its crossing, thereby saving expenses and fuel costs.

The graceful arc of a Pacific Great Circle Route is shown as a black arc between Asia and North America (California). The congestion of this route can be easily seen. These routes can be made between any two ports on an ocean. Although they become more flattened near the equator and form an upside-down arc in the Southern Hemisphere.

In the last half of the 20^th century people began to realize the damage to the atmosphere due to the amount of fossil fuel being burned. This included ocean shipping which at the time burned “bunker oil,” a fossil fuel whose use and emission added tons of pollution to the atmosphere and to the sea each year.

Modern vessels use diesel generators and more efficient power plants to generate electricity that is use to drive the propellers that push these ships. The trend has been from direct drive systems for propulsion (a boiler generates steam to turn a geared shaft on which is mounted the propeller), to an indirect-drive (a diesel generator produces electricity which runs an electric motor to turn the shaft on which is mounted the propeller).

All of these systems use fossil fuels for their main power. Over the years the fuel efficiency of the ships and their engines has greatly improved. This was brought about through improved design of the vessels and their power plants. The results have been reduced operating costs as well as reductions in environmental contamination. At the same time the number of ships transporting cargo has greatly increased. The cargo tonnage offloaded in the Port of Los Angeles, California has significantly increased in the recent years. From 2000 to 2019 the general cargo off-loaded in the Port of Los Angeles more than doubled. It rose from approximately 82 million metric tons to more than 190 million metric tons. All of these goods were transferred by ships burning fossil fuel.

In order to reduce the effect of fossil fuel on the world’s atmosphere and oceans, a consortium being led by Wallenius Marine and including the KTH Royal Institute of Technology in Stockholm, Sweden and SSPA, a marine consultancy, have designed and tested models of the hull design for a modern sailing ship. These tests have been on the open water and in a testing basin.

The modern sailing vessel they are designing is a wind Propelled Car Carrier (wPCC). Wallenius Marine is leading the design of the wPCC. This type of vessel is used to transport manufactured cars and trucks. It is often referred to as a roll-on roll-off (RORO) vessel.

While the sail mentioned in the previous article was a spinning cylinder, the wPCC sails resemble the rigid sails of modern racing yachts. They are expected the propel the Car Carrier across the oceans and achieve a reduction in emissions is 90%. However it is noted that the vessel is slower than a standard RORO.

The sails have yet to come to a final design. These rigid sails will rise up from within the ship. They can also be lowered when the ship is under the control of tugs while in port.

And although I might think that I cannot wait another moment for my new Volvo to arrive, knowing that its transportation had a significantly reduced carbon foot-print is worth the small delay before I have the keys in my hand.

The initial article I read on this was from TNW (The Next Web) and can be found at https://thenextweb.com/shift/2020/09/10/swedes-boat-powered-by-wind-sailboat-ship-cargo-transatlantic/ .

A fact sheet on the wPCC may be found at https://www.sspa.se/sites/www.sspa.se/files/field_page_files/wpcc_fact_sheet_may_2020_v_1.0.pdf .

The map at the top is a screen shot of a maritime information map found at https://www.marinetraffic.com/en/ais/home/centerx:-12.0/centery:24.8/zoom:2 . It is noted that there is an agreement associated with the use of material on this web site.

Tonnage statistics for the Port of Los Angeles may be found at https://www.portoflosangeles.org/business/statistics/tonnage-statistics .

Summer Flutter-By

(corrected version – originally published 18 July, 2020)

‘Tis summer, and June is passed.

But still, “What is so rare as a day in June?.”

This June, when each day was long, hot, humid, and rainless, there was magic all around you.

If are near a park or if there are gardens in your neighborhood, you are likely to see the white Rovers, along with black, and orange, and sulfur Rovers. These tiny Rovers chasing some unseen song on the wind, will settle for a brief moment on a plant that is bathed in sunshine, and then they are off with a wandering and seemingly unsteady pace. It is as if they follow the Sun. They will stop for a moment, on a flower or on the ground, and bask in the sun. It appears that they are just resting and enjoying the Sun and the flowers that happened to be there for their repose.

These are the butterflies of Spring and Summer. They come to flowers seeking their nectar. And they seem to love the Sun. They should be called Sun-Wings. Why “butter-fly”.

This question reminds me of an old children’s joke from the 1950’s. Why did the little boy throw the butter out the window? Because he wanted to see “butter fly”.

The internet has varying opinions on where the word came from in English. It does not seem the word was derived from another language, but rather from old English, given on many sites as “buterfleoge”.

The UK Wildcats in the Department of Horticulture have a good site about butterflies. It has a great deal of information about butterflies, but not why they are associated with a specific milk product.

This makes me think of the Internet, which I used to find these bits of information. It was supposedly conceived at the Pennsylvania State University (Nittany Lions), in their storied and excellent ice cream parlor which is associated with their dairy farm and livestock programs. So perhaps there is truth to the legend of butterflies are lost soles who like milk? Yes, I said it like the soles of a pair of shoes, which if butterflies wore they would need three pairs. I wonder if a Beau Brummel of the lepidopterist type wears three pairs of the same shoe or does he vary the pairs.

What the Kentucky Wildcats site tells me is that in Greek butterflies and moths are known as “Lepidoptera”, which is used as their scientific classification. Lepidoptera means “scaly wings” in Greek. So as long as this is my article, I will take a swing (or a flutter) at the derivation of the word, and say that perhaps the person who first said, “That is a Butterfly,” knew well that the Greek word meant “scaly wing” and was looking for an opposite, and what is more smooth to the touch than butter.

But enough of the words and derivations and wandering through forests of blue trees with polka-dot leaves wondering why a butterfly is not called a formenhangeeen. Because it’s not.

The Butterfly is a simple soul. It follows the bright light and settles where there are no disturbing winds. Perhaps this is why in Russian (бабочка) (pronounced as ba-booch-ka) it is known as a “little soul”.

But in our garden on a warm-but-not-hot day in mid-July, I see a female (two-spots on each wing) Cabbage White (Pieris rapae) wandering, with purpose, through our purple Hostas and yellow Stone Crop Sedum. Down and up and around and then left to right she goes. Not unhurried, but seemingly without a care. And then she lights and unrolling her tube-like tongue she tastes the flower’s nectar and then moves on to investigate another.

And so her Summer goes.

What is so rare as a day in June?

A Sun-Wing in the garden who with each flap of her tiny wings sets up wild hurricanes that blow polka dotted leaves over the garden wall.

And so the Summer goes.

Other Butterflies that frequent the Washington, DC area include; Cloudless Sulphur Butterfly, Baltimore Checkerspot, Black Swallowtail, Cabbage White Butterfly, Canadian Tiger Swallowtail, Clouded Sulphur, Eastern Tiger Swallowtail, and the Monarch Butterfly.

The University of Kentucky site may be found at; https://www.uky.edu/hort/butterflies/all-about-butterflies .

“What is so Rare as a Day in June”, a poem by James Russell Lowell may be found at, https://www.poemhunter.com/poem/what-is-so-rare-as-a-day-in-june/ .

The Lyrics (by Bob Lind) to The Elusive Butterfly of Love (as sung by Dolly Parton) may be found at; https://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/dollyparton/elusivebutterfly.html .

Four-Points

WOW! I am still excited, even two weeks after my wonder-filled find.

I was out in the open fields and forest edges on a warm Saturday, hiking and enjoying being outside. As I crossed a field, I saw something sticking up out of the grass ahead of me. It was about 50 yards away. The sunlight highlighted it so it stood out from the surrounding grasses even though it was not much higher that the brown stalks.

The area where I do most of my local hiking has a rather large white-tailed deer population. There are several herds that populate the area with numerous males of all ages.

One of the aspects of the white-tail deer, which every school child knows, is the male’s antlers are shed each year in the late Spring. Each year, each male deer will grow a new set of antlers. The antlers grow through the Spring and Summer, reaching their full size at beginning of the deer’s mating season known as “the rut”. As the male deer grows older his antlers grow larger with each passing year. A young male may only grow antlers that come to a single point. These are also known as spikes.

An older male will grow more massive antlers with numerous points. The antlers remain on the male until after the mating season is over. At that time the male deer’s body chemistry begins to change which signals his body that the antlers are no longer needed. His antlers become less firmly attached to his skull, and they prepare to fall off. This physiological change takes place in the late Winter and early Spring.

The antlers may fall off as the buck is walking through the woods where the antlers may be brushed off by low branches. They may fall off due to a jolt, if the deer is involved in a late season battle with another male deer. They may fall off as the buck runs and jumps across a field.

In the part of Virginia where I hike this change and the shedding of antlers generally happens after mid-February. If you are out in the woods and fields where deer roam and browse, you may find a single antler, or in some cases a pair of antlers. Finding a pair is rather rare, as the antlers fall off at different times. The pair may be far apart across a field or patch of woods. Sometimes though they fall off on a used trail, so that even if they are shed on different days they may be found at locations on the same trail. It’s a random pattern depending on where the deer goes, his body chemistry, and whether there is an event that causes the antlers to be knocked or brushed off his head.

Then the forest or field takes over. These “sheds” are not just useless bone. Small forest creatures will gnaw on the antlers as they are a source of phosphorous and calcium and other minerals for these creatures. These may be mice emerging from their winter tunnels, or foxes and coyotes.

And of course, there are people who may pick them up. These people, like me, enjoy walking across the fields and up through the woods looking for whatever they might see and enjoying the peace of the natural surroundings.

I have found small sheds before, but this find was certainly different with its polished four points. When I picked it up, I was surprised by how heavy it was. It weighed about four pounds. I have been out to the area where I found it twice more to see if its mate will turn up. It has not. It might not have fallen off yet. Or it has fallen off and some forest creature, or another walker, has carried it off.

BRIDGE

During this “Winter-Without-Snow” I have taken advantage of the record-setting weather to wander fields and forest lanes which I would not usually go onto. Many of these places are not available to me Spring through Fall when the hay is growing and the ticks are more active. Right now, the hay has been cut and most insects are dormant due to their season .

Last week I went to what was for me an unexplored field surrounded by woods. I intended to walk the perimeter which was two miles around its full circuit. When I added in my excursions into the woods surrounding the field, my walk was a very pleasant three miles – and maybe a bit more. As I walked the edges of the field, I would walk down into the surrounding woods to look at some item that had caught my eye. Perhaps it was an old bottle reflecting the sun, or a particularly interesting shape of a tree, or a stand of bushes full of bright red winter-berries.

I was drawn further into the woods by a stream that flowed near the edge of the woods. The rains of the week before had mostly drained out of the hilly woods surrounding the field. The stream was flowing quietly. It carried a sparkling brightness in the filtered sunlight and was worth exploration. The woods were not dark like northern coniferous forests full of evergreens. This was a bright, southern mixed hardwood forest of bare branches and filtered sunlight. The branches, bare of leaves, allowed the sunlight to penetrate through what in summer is a darkening canopy and brighten the area below. It was bright and inviting so I directed my trek along the course of the stream.

It was easy to tell that the stream would sometimes run high and fast as the banks of the stream were steep and without much growth. Further up the hill into the forest I could see something that stretched across the stream. When I got to it, I found it was an abandoned foot-bridge. But it was not a bridge that could be used. It was missing boards. A few were in place, but other dangled above the narrow stream. Only one of the natural-timber cross-pieces was still in place, spanning the stream to the opposite bank. No animal other than a raccoon or a mouse would be able to cross it easily.

Once in times past, the bridge had spanned the stream. It went from one place to another. It had lain at some point further up the stream. Then a day of heavy rain and high water, perhaps in a hurricane, had lifted the bridge and pushed it to this current spot. On my side of the stream the bridge was open. On the opposite bank the timber span ended at the base of a large tree.

Even though the bridge could not now be crossed, it still caused me to wonder. What is on the other side? I could easily see the other side just across the small gully; the distance was less than 30 feet. But if I could have walked across the bridge, what would I actually see? I would see the same trees on that far bank that I could see from my current spot. But on that far side I would be able to reach out and touch those trees. I would experience that distant shore.

I have never seen a bridge that I did not want to cross in order to touch the other side.

And that has made all the difference. (1)

Borrowing the closing from Robert Frost’s, The Road Not Taken.