Outdoors – Page 2

Newport – Learning to Walk

I apologize for being absent for these several weeks. I was in the middle of a big project for Christmas. And yesterday as I finished the writing portion – you can tell that I am late as Christmas has come and gone.– I asked myself, What should I write in my blog?

As I thought on that I realized that recently I have spent a lot of time burrowing through family pictures. It brought back so many places and people and experiences, and in many of them grand hikes and walks. So – light bulb – my question had an obvious answer, Write about what I know. I have often been told that these are words to live by if you are going to do any kind of creative writing.

I decided to go back to the root. I am looking back to some of the earliest walks and hikes that I remember. I remember, as a toddler, scenes from wanderings out of my yard and stumbles along the sidewalk, but I want to think back to when my Father said, Let’s go outside and go for a walk. My brother and I would rush to our rooms and get dressed in weather appropriate items. In Newport, Rhode Island it could be yellow slicker and goulashes for rain, heavy winter coats with fuzzy collars and gloves and scarves and fuzzy hats if it was Winter. But if it was Summer, we would go out in short sleeves and tennis shoes.

Just saying that makes me think of the sun- drenched rocks along that shore of Rhode Island. And in Newport the coast and trails along it are accessible to everyone. But it is not always a public park. It is more often a path on private property. Perhaps originally a wandering sheep trail along the edges of the outer fences. But as the Cliff Walk website states, “the walk is a public right-of-way over private property owned by the waterfront property owners”.

So as on any trail whether it be publicly owned or privately owned, always be courteous and as the saying goes, Leave only foot prints and take only pictures. In the instance of Newport’s Cliff Walk stay on the path. It is not polite, nor is it legal, to wander across another person’s private property.

Today much of the Cliff Walk is paved – but it is dangerous. Do not venture off the path; you may fall to your death.

But “back in the day” in the 1950s, when I was young, the walk was at best semi-paved. And it was along this muddy, and smooth-rock, slippery trail that I learned to “walk-out”. I of course was an accomplished walker, already being 5-years old. But on those trails along the rugged coast of Rhode Island, I learned how to watch where I was stepping. I learned how to set my foot for traction, how to avoid the stone that was covered in sand and pebbles as it sand grains can be as slippery as wet moss. I was taught by being guided, by example, the little skills of walking a wilderness, a semi-wilderness, or a rough trail through a city park. Your feet are your guides. You can tell from your first placement whether you position is firm or if it is a risky-one.

These skills were learned from walking-out with my Mother and Father and Brother. And from them I learned of the joy of a walking stick, which my own children and I often refer to as a “pokey” stick. It gives you balance and support in the hard places. And you can turn over small rocks to look underneath using it as a lever.

The joys of the path will be with you forever. And a sturdy stick and whatever else gives you support and makes you steady is worth holding on to.

So much to learn but so easy to remember. Watch where you put your feet. Make sure you are steady on the trail. And be courteous to the people and the plants and animals who you may meet on your way since it may be their home.

Information on Newport’s Cliff Walk may be found at, www.cliffwalk.com.

Forbidden Planet

I remember the flashing lights on the screen of the darkened movie theater and the actors’ screams that I did not understand.

But yesterday when I happened to see on my television the movie that had so frightened me as a child, it was like seeing an old friend.

I was four years old when I went with my older brother to see The Forbidden Planet, a science-fiction movie that he and all his friends wanted to see. I had probably begged to go along with him, and since it was a rainy day my father decided that he would come as well. The three of us, who more often were found on an Autumn afternoon out hiking along the seashore or playing ball in the yard, were walking into the only movie theatre in town.

When I got scared my father had to walk me out and let me sit in the lobby. He watched the end of the movie through the door to the theatre. I had nightmares after the movie, and I did not like to have the lights turned out in the room I shared with my brother.

I have always remembered going to that movie and my reactions later at home. But I have always cherished the memory. When I pass the theater, which is still in operation in downtown Newport, RI, I think to myself of the time that I went there with my father and my brother, now both gone. And I smile. I smile not because of my childhood fears, but because I was with my father and my brother and they looked out for me. So my adult memories of the movie are happy memories.

But what about the movie itself?

As I watched it the other day, I recalled the scenes of the underground civilization, of “Robbie the Robot”, and the encampment of the space men outside their ship. But I also saw other things that I could not have seen then. I saw the amazing color of the old film, now digitally restored. I saw scenes that I recognized as being repeated in Star Trek and Star Wars. I watched a plot unfold, not of discovery, but of finding terror inside one’s self.

The premise of the movie is that twenty years prior the spaceship Bellerophon had left Earth to explore the fourth planet orbiting the star Altair. Altair is the 12th brightest star in the night sky. It is part of the Constellation Aquilla, the Eagle. The star is also part of an astronomical asterism (pattern of stars) known as the Summer Triangle. The other stars in the triangle are the star Deneb (19th brightest in the night sky) in the constellation Deneb (the Swan), and the star Vega (5th brightest star in the night sky) in the constellation Lyra (the Lyre).

In the plot there had been no signals from the planet for twenty years. The United Planets Cruiser “C57-D” was sent out to Altair to determine if there were any survivors. As it turned out there were two survivors, Dr. Morbius and his daughter, Altaira, played by Walter Pigeon and Anne Francis. The Commander of the C57-D, J.J. Adams, was played by Leslie Neilson.

Millions of year ago the planet had been the home of an advanced race, the Krell. They had developed their science and technologies to the point that the negative thoughts of their subconscious had taken the shape of a beast. The Best ravished their civilization and killed all Krell. All the scientists and crew of the Bellerophon, except Dr. Morbius and his daughter, were also killed by this electrostatic, but invisible, beast.

Dr. Mobius has not yet determined the cause of the beast, which returns as his thoughts turn against the crew of the C57-D and his daughter, who plans to leave with them.

So much of science fiction is about the initial exploration of space, and exploration and exploitation of the planets and civilizations that are discovered. The movie is an exploration of the human mind and how it can become lost in its prejudices and dislikes. His thoughts became a beast that destroys all.

If there is a moral to this story, it is that dwelling on the negative will be destructive. Forgiveness may provide a way out of unbearable troubles. If Morbius had not distrusted the crew of the arriving space cruiser, would the beast have reappeared and destroyed him?

This was a film that forecasts future developments in the science fiction genre. Its premise and its questions are echoed in the Star Wars trilogy, as are its flowing introductory script and some of the visual aspects of the Krell’s home world.

In the night, the beast we hear is often of our own making.

All pictures and images are taken from MGM stills and posters related to the movie, Forbidden Planet.

The IMDb site related to the movie Forbidden Plant may be found at https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0049223/ .

ART as a Verb

We had gone to spend a few days in Newport, Rhode Island to see friends and to participate in the crowning event to the Summer, The Newport Art Museum Wet Paint show. It’s a wonderful time to visit a wonderful place. And the added fun is that anyone can enter the art show for a modest entry fee. The entry fee includes being supplied a box lunch.

We heard of the show by chance several years before and had determined that we wanted to come back and enjoy what sounded like a great deal of fun. I must say that I am not much of an artist, but I do enjoy sketching. And I have some colored pencils, so I was ready. My wife is much more the artist than I am, and she came prepared with her paints and brushes.

The week before Wet Paint had been very pleasant summer weather. The day of the show started with rain and clouds. Soon the rain stopped, but the clouds remained. That was fine as I believe that the subdued light enhances the colors of the Earth.

The grounds, gardens, and lawns of several of the grand ocean-front houses were open for the professional, the talented, and the budding artists. The homes encouraged artists to be inspired by their grounds and gardens and to draw the flowers and landscapes found there. No detail was too small to capture the imagination. We could also go out to the wonderful seaside walking areas and “art” there. As a note, I do not believe there is a verb form of the word “art.” It is generally a noun. However, the word can be changed to be an adjective, e.g., artsy.

We had numerous choices of where we could go to sketch and paint. We decided on a home called Rough Point. It had been the home of Doris Duke, the heiress of the Duke tobacco and energy fortune. She used a great deal of her time and energy and wealth to support active philanthropy including art, preservation, horticulture, and support of the troops in World War II. She founded the Newport Restoration Foundation (NRF) in 1968. The NRF remains active in restoring and preserving historic buildings in Newport. . We were guest of the NRF while we were on Rough Point as it maintains and operates the house and grounds, as well as other homes in Newport.

We arrived ready to do “art”. We had brought our chairs and each of us had a board to use as a lap easel. Before we started to draw – or do “art” – we walked around the large lawn and visited the flower garden in the North front of the vast yard. We also walked back to where the NRF keeps a vegetable garden. The gate to this garden is pictured above. It is nicely maintained with an array of vegetables and flowers. We were offered some of the fruits from the small wood crate resting at the gate. I tried some of the small golden tomatoes, and found them delicious, tasting of sunshine.

We settled in behind the formal flower garden and began our work. My wife’s work with the flowers was very good. I tried to sketch some of the flowers but without success. I got up and walked around some more. During this excursion I looked up at the house and saw its façade, wetted by the earlier rain, had begun to dry off in the wind that blew in from Easton Bay. Enjoying the breeze and the coloration of the stone façade of the house as the dampness was drawn out, I returned to my board and sketched a small detail of the roof line.

At the auction that evening I purchased my own sketch. I liked it, and there was no other bid for it. Now I have it to remind me of a quiet, rainy day off the Atlantic Ocean, and that “art” can be a verb.

The website of the Newport Restoration Foundation may be found at https://www.newportrestoration.org/roughpoint/ .

Information about the 2019 Wet Paint event may be found at, https://newportartmuseum.org/events/wet-paint-2019/ .

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 .

Titan Dino Egg

When I first read the news article on the Titanosaur/Sauropod egg and the embryo inside, I was completely fascinated. When I read further about the findings from the study of the egg, I was amazed both at the methods of investigation and in what the authors of the study presented about the embryo.

The egg is believed to have been a Titanosaur, several types of Sauropod which that lived in the area where the egg was discovered in what is now Argentina. A cast/fossil of one of these Sauropods, Maximo the Titanosaur, is now on display in the Field Museum in Chicago. It has taken the place on the main floor of where Sue, the largest and most complete Tyrannosaurus Rex (T-Rex) skeleton ever found use to stand. Sue is now in the second-floor dinosaur exhibit of the Field Museum.

A comparison of the completeness of the two fossils, Maximo and Sue, is interesting. The bones comprising Sue’s fossil (it is named for the discoverer of the fossil; the sex of the dinosaur is unknown) compromise approximately 90% of the mass of a complete T-Rex skeleton. By contrast, the skeleton of Maximo the Titanosaur is made from casts of fossilized bone found at several sites, and of some sculpted bones where no reference bone is available. There were about 130 fossilized bones found, not just from one Titanosaur but from six different individuals.

The initial scientific article in Current Biology on the egg and its investigation, examines several interesting aspects of the dinosaur’s life. The embryo was approximately 80% of its in ovo, inside the egg, development before it was ready to hatch out. The examination of the embryonic fossil indicates that the tiny dinosaur had what is commonly known as an “egg-tooth.” An egg-tooth is used by a young bird as it hatches to break open the shell of the egg in which it is enclosed and protected. The egg tooth later falls off once the young bird is out of its eggshell.

Another finding of the study can be understood by picturing a rabbit. A rabbit’s skull is quite narrow, and its eyes are situated well back on the sides of its skull. The rabbit is preyed on by many other animals including mammals, large birds, and snakes. The position of the rabbit’s eyes gives it the ability to have a field of vision well beyond the field of vision of a human. While our human peripheral vision from the side of our eyes allows us to see approximately to the line of our shoulder, the placement of a rabbit’s eyes allow it a field of vision well past its shoulder. The rabbit’s field of vision reaches beyond 45 degrees past its shoulders on each side. This allows them to see a predator sneaking up on them from the sides and from their rear. This is similar to what is known about the placement of eyes sockets on adult Sauropod skeletons. They also had predators that they had to watch out for.

In the study it was found that the embryo’s eye placement was more forward giving it more of a three-dimensional vision to the front. It’s not that these tiny creatures did not have predators. I imagine the predation of the new hatchlings was very high. But when they first emerged from their egg, their eyes were forward looking. Perhaps this helped them to be better able to learn to stand and walk in a straight line and to see food such as a blade of grass or a seedling tree right in front of them. But as time went on and as their body and their skull expanded, their eyes moved to the side of their skull which created a field of vision more like that of a rabbit.

The growth of the Titanosaurs was amazing. In the art at the beginning of this article, I have tried to capture a size comparison of the adult Titanosaurs to a modern human and to the fossilized egg shown as the round ball next to the human figure.

In this study the fossilized egg was approximately 10 inches in diameter. I postulate that an embryo was likely about twelve inches long when it emerged from its egg. When compared, a modern ostrich egg is more egg-shaped, the dinosaur egg being studied was more spherical. A modern Ostrich egg is approximately 10 inches long and 5 to 7 inches in diameter. The hatchling Ostrich is generally the size of a chicken. It will grow to be upwards of 8 feet tall.

The hatchling Titanosaur by contrast is assumed to be 10 to 12 inches tall at the shoulder. It would have grown to be 20 times that high at the shoulder. It will also grow to be over 120 feet long and weigh 140,000 pounds (70 tons).

The last bit of the story also speaks to the truth of modern science. At one time fossils were stolen in the field from one team of paleontologists by another team representing a different museum or university. Fossils were sometimes destroyed in the field to keep rival museums from retrieving them. Today museums and landowners and discoverers often work together to improve our knowledge of these ancient beasts and the world they lived in. There may be court cases to determine ownership or partial rights of ownership to a fossil. This allows the courts to decide the question of ownership and the fossil can be recovered and displayed and studied and enjoyed. In the case of the fossilized egg and its embryo, the fossil had been removed from Argentina illegally. When this became known to the research team, the fossil was returned to Argentina. The fossil is now housed at the museum, Museo Municipal “Carmen Funes,” in Plaza Huincul, Neuquén Province, Argentina.

Fascinating.

The picture of the herd of titanosaur sauropod Argentinosaurus is by artist Miguel Angel Amorin Fernandez. It is copied from a page in “palenontologyworld_com”, it may be found at https://www.instagram.com/p/B00DxYblpOd/?igshid=dbe23rmt94sf .

The picture of the embryo of the Titanosaur sauropod inside its egg is copied from the article, “Specialized Craniofacial Anatomy of a Titanosaurian Embryo from Argentina”, Martin Kundrat et al, published August 27, 2020 in the journal Current Biology.

The pictured size comparison of the human (at 5 feet 6inches) and the sauropod Argentinosaurus (shoulder height 20 feet) is based on the scale presented in the article “Titanosaur” that may be found at https://www.britannica.com/animal/titanosaur.

The initial news article I read on this fascinating subject was an online article in CNN. It may be found at https://www.cnn.com/2020/08/27/world/sauropod-dinosaur-embryonic-skull-scn-trnd/index.html . The pictured comparison of the size of a titanosaur egg (approximately 8 inches in diameter) is based on the comparison to an Ostrich egg in that article.

The article about Sue the T-Rex may be found on the website of the Field Museum of Chicago at https://www.fieldmuseum.org/blog/sue-t-rex .

The difference between the complete skeleton of Sue, and the mostly Cast skeleton of Maximo the Titanosaur is discussed in an article on the website of the Field Museum of Chicago may be found at https://www.fieldmuseum.org/blog/which-dinosaur-bones-are-real .

The website for the museum Museo Municipal “Carmen Funes,” Plaza Huincul, Neuquén Province, Argentina may be found at https://www.interpatagonia.com/cutralco-huincul/carmen-funes-municipal-museum.html .

Tea Break

Several years ago my son and his wife gave me a new camp stove for Christmas. The one I had was getting old. I had used it for a good number of years, including camping on the smaller islands of the southern Outer Banks of North Carolina. It attached to the top of a small propane bottle, which also had to be packed out. Its design was lacking and I had to devise a small wind screen that attached to the sides of the burner. My water pots had a hard time coming to a boil if there was a breeze up.

I would drive down after work and launch my kayak at the ferry landing and paddle out to the island in my ancient canvas Fold-Boat. When I reached the island, I would haul the boat up and then hike two to three miles to a good camping spot.

Those miles could be long. The hike across the island was over the dunes and through soft sand, followed by a mile or more on hard packed sand. Reducing the weight of my backpack was always on my mind. Even on these short distances a light pack was a better pack. I was also carrying two days of water as there was no potable water on the island.

It was always best to carry lighter supplies. A light camp stove was a dream.

I would cook my supper on my stove and then wash up at the tide-line. I used the sand to scour everything. I also rinsed it all with boiling water.

As the sun went down, I’d boil water for a cup of coffee. But I was never satisfied with the flavor of the instant coffee I carried. It might have been easy to pack in, but its flavor left a lot to be desired. Eventually I changed over to a dark tea.

After sunset I’d lounge at the base of a sand dune and look out over the Atlantic from a deserted beach. I was usually on the island by myself.

Years later I no longer packed out for a two-night camp on the beach like I had before. There were camping trips to campgrounds in the mountains. I would reminisce about those nights on the beach, and talk about my old camp stove.

A surprise at Christmas was welcome. It was my new white gas camp stove. It reopened possibilities, and I wanted to try it out. It was a sunny day in mid-Winter when I set out for the open fields of the Virginia Piedmont. I packed my new stove and my water kettle.

Other items had changed as well. I no longer carried my water in my World War II Marine surplus canteen. Those were heavy on the hips and did not fit well with the modern packs with waist belts. I now used slim, stainless steel water bottles that fit into the sides of my backpack.

With my gear packed for a day hike, I drove out to the trailhead. After a good hour on the trail, I stopped and set up my new stove at a place where I had a bit of a view of the countryside and a view up and down the trail.

The new stove worked easily, and it had its own integral wind screen. Soon I was pouring hot tea into my cup and settling down on one of the larger rocks to enjoy the afternoon sky.

It was pleasant, and although I missed the ocean and its crashing waves, a trail through the trees with a view out onto the pastures and fields in the valley below is very nice.

I watched an American Kestrel hover and dive to catch a grasshopper. And I let my eyes close as I enjoyed the flavor of my tea as the sun set and an evening chill began to creep up the mountain.

South Works

I took this picture in the early 1970s when I worked for a friend of mine as a Cargo Surveyor in the ports around Chicago, Illinois.

It was long days and hard work. But I was able to be outside most of the time. If I was not outside, on the deck of a ship, climbing up or down the 90-foot ladders that led to and from the ship’s holds, or walking the huge outdoor storage lots confirming off-loading of the giant rolls of steel, I might be inside a steel manufacturing facility, or a cheese importer in one of the Chicago suburbs, or in a warehouse full of imported items. It didn’t matter if it was hard work; it was fun and fascinating work. The ships on which we oversaw the unloading were from nations around the world.

We were up early and on the ships watching the longshoremen and the huge cranes unloading the rolls of sheet steel, bundles of steel beams, or railroad wheels, or 40-foot containers filled with wine or cheese or beef hides or any number of amazing products that were being imported into the Chicago from around the world. These good would be transported for sale in the Chicago area or to other locations in the Midwest.

We worked while the Great Lakes were open for shipping. We worked in the heat of summer and the frigid days of early winter with ice on the decks and snow in the air. The only weather that we did not work in was the rain. When it rained the owners would close the massive steel covers over the ship’s holds so the cargo would not get wet. Steel rusts. Cardboard falls apart. Food stuffs spoil. All of this had to be taken into account as we oversaw the work and inspected the cargoes, usually working for the owners of the shipping line.

The Great Lakes are open for international ocean cargo shipping as long as the locks along the Saint Lawrence River Seaway are ice free. The locks are the portal for ocean going shipping on the Great Lakes. The locks were scheduled to close before they iced up. That was the day by which all ships that had other places to go, had to be off the Great Lakes. For example in 2019 the Locks and the Great Lakes were opened to ocean traffic on March 29, 2019. The season was closed on December 31, 2019, and ships could no longer transit out of the Great Lakes.

It can easily be imagined that the closing weeks of the season were busy weeks as no shipping company would want their cargo vessel trapped in the Great Lakes for three months while the locks are closed.

On this morning I had arrived just at sunrise. The ship we were unloading was docked near the mouth of the Calumet River. The Calumet River stretches from Lake Michigan down into the industrial areas south of Chicago. The entire length of the river was wharves and turning basins, for the ships to tie up, unload, and maneuver back out to Lake Michigan. To the west the Calumet River joins the Des Plaines River via the Cal-Sag (Calumet-Saganashkee Channel) Canal, which carried barges from the Mississippi into this same maze of wharves in the industrial area.

I could not be further from the forests surrounding Chicago than standing on the deck of that ship on the Calumet River. When I turned to the North and looked to the other bank of the river, I could see the decrepit US Steel South Works. Its furnaces and mills were shut down, but the steel assets still stood against the rising sun of that morning.

It was odd, this behemoth of American industry shut down due to foreign competition from more modern facilities in Asia and in Europe, and the products of those foreign mills traveled to their buyers by landing on the wharves and docks along the Calumet River, and by first passing the US Steel South Works, the ancient and ruined guardian of the Lake shore.

The wind was blowing from the North. As it blew across the old South Works, it picked up dust and particles of steel. I could see the flecks of metal catching a glint of the morning sun as they floated in the air around me while I stood watching the cargo being unloaded on that cold winter morning.

Boats and Clouds

Several decades ago I had an opportunity to go to the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics (USSR). I saw places that I had not seen before, and I talked to people about all types of things. I was even asked if I had any Blue Jeans to sell. It was funny. The guy who asked me that was an American who at that time was working for the CIA. Now I think he is in jail.

We were there for three weeks and started in Moscow and the area around it. I was profoundly moved by the World War II memorials. The USSR lost more than 20 million people, some died in internal struggles, others died fighting the Nazis.

As part of the trip we also traveled out to Odessa in the Ukraine and then north to Lithuania. Both were part of the USSR at that time. Lithuania became an independent republic in 1990, heralding the collapse of the Soviet Union. The Ukraine followed and became independent in 1991.

Lithuania is a truly beautiful place. We stayed in the city of Vilnius, the capital of Lithuania. The country’s northern climate supports vast forest of conifers and hardwoods. These forests include Larch, Spruce, Birch, and Aspen. The geography supports many stream and lakes, many of which flow north towards the Baltic Sea. It was Fall when we were there, so it was too cold for swimming. And even in summer, I can say from experience, the Baltic Sea is cold on the best of days.

One day we traveled out from Vilnius and visited the Lake area near the historic town of Trakai. The lake shores were ablaze with late Fall color. The Latitude of Trakai (54^o37’N) is approximately the same as the south end of Hudson Bay in Canada. We wrapped up against the Fall chill and walked out into the forest that lined the lake shore. The paths were narrow and wound back into the forest.

On the lake I had hoped we might see an over-wintering Red-necked Grebe (Podiceps grisegena). If there were any wintering birds, we did not see.

The isolation and depth of the forest assured me that in their season they are full of the songs of Lithuania’s native birds. And I was sure that the lakes teamed with ducks on their migration to the far North, or perhaps to this very spot.

There was a lake house. And there were row boats. Being fond of rowing in any season, I asked if there was time to go out onto the lake for a bit of a row. Our host apologized and said we would need to stick to our schedule. I am certain he was sorry that we did not have time. Sticking to the schedule during the times of the Soviet regime was important. I accepted it and apologized to our hosts to relieve him of the burden of not being able to allow such a small excursion.

A heavily traded commodity of the region from pre-Roman and into modern times is Amber, the fossilized resin/sap of ancient conifer trees. Amber is an organic near-gem quality stone. It has a rare warmth of color and can be polished to brilliance. Some Amber, when polished, and if clear, may be seen to contain an ancient beetle or ant. The Amber of the Baltic region is from the Eocene epoch and was deposited about 40 million years ago. Any bugs found in Baltic Amber would not have been the gadfly of the dinosaurs. Deposits of that type were laid down over 66 million years ago and are not found in the Baltic region.

In my visit to this region of frost and magical lakes I received a set of cuff links made from Amber.

The Amber of my cufflinks is clouded from the minerals and tiny air bubbles trapped in the flowing tree sap. The face of the polished Amber shows streamers of milky white. It is a cloud of ancient air and minerals trapped in a scene of golden earth tones. The outside surface of the Amber, the “rind”, is just as fascinating with its deep browns and reds from reactions of the ancient resin to the overburden soils that held the raw Amber. The rind is also deeply pitted from its burial for millions of years.

To touch Amber is to touch earth, sky, and water.

The pictures were taken by me or other members of our group and are under our personal Copyright.

Walking in the Water

When my children were younger, we went out West.

We were on a two-week holiday, and there were sights we wanted to see. We flew into Albuquerque, New Mexico and then drove in a rented car to see cliff houses at Mesa Verde, the Grand Canyon, the Virgin River, the Very Large Array, Santa Fe, and the Four Corners area. We had a full list of places we wanted to see.

When driving between our various destination, we would stop beside the road for lunch. There are often picnic shelters in scenic rest areas on the highways. We would also pull off the road at a convenient spot and make sandwiches of fresh tomatoes and bright orange cheddar cheese. They were easy to make and always delicious.

In the first week of our trip one of our destinations was Zion National Park in Utah. We wanted to hike the Virgin River. The drive into Zion National Park is magnificent. The natural rock formations and the engineering and construction of the road join to make a stunning drive down to the canyon floor. But the best was to greet us at the bottom of the canyon. We had arrived at our destination, the trail head for The Narrows of the Virgin River.

The Virgin River flows through a deep natural gorge that the River has carved out of the native sandstone over the millennia. The trail that leads up through the Narrows is the Virgin River itself. Make no mistake the footing on the large and small stones on the River’s floor is always changing, and it is slippery and challenging. When you start your hike through the waters, you are going up stream. You are hiking against the River’s flow.

Please note that the National Park Service has sets safety limits for protection of the visitors, whether seasoned hikers or children. You need to check in at the Ranger Station to confirm that the River is safe for hiking and to get advice on the distance you will want to go. We did not want to hike the ten miles (round trip) up the River to Big Spring and back. We wanted to spend about an hour in the River. The Park Rangers were able to give us good advice on how far up the River we should go.

We stepped into the River. We could feel the current gently pushing against our ankles as we started our trip upstream. We smiled at the exhilaration. Later we would be laughing out loud at the joy of moving through the current as we continued on our upstream challenge.

And I will say, the challenge is worth it. To walk ankle deep and knee deep and up-to-waist deep against the current – struggling to set your feet firmly on the rocks you cannot see under the rushing water – and to suddenly plunge into a deeper pool – it is truly exhilarating. Even a hike of 300 to 400 yards up the River is memorable. To stand with your companions holding onto them and your walking staff for stability – and looking up out of the nearly quarter mile deep gorge – and seeing the clouds overhead is wonderful. You do not see them move; you feel that you are rotating under the still, white clouds painted onto a pure blue sky high above.

As we moved upstream one of us would suddenly disappear into the water after slipping on a rock, or stepping into a hole. Then we would rise up laughing to the relief of our companions who were shocked at our disappearance as if it were miraculous, followed by an equally miraculous reappearance, laughing, as we burst up from the flowing stream.

On the way back we talked about flash floods and the impossibility of escape in our situation. This is the reason that you must know the weather happening miles up the River. Up there a sudden rain-storm can dump tons of water into the stream and change a fun and challenging hike into a thundering, roiling disaster.

The flow urged us along on our way back to the trailhead. The rocks were just as slippery, but we were use to finding our footing. Soon we were back at the trail head, and in the car, soaking wet, and laughing uproariously at our adventure.

Remember:

The River doesn’t care.
The River can be dangerous.
Check conditions with the Rangers.
Know the weather.
Know the capabilities of the people you are hiking with.
Laugh.

In researching this article I read that the River is currently contaminated with a toxic cyanobacteria. Make sure you read up on the conditions in the River before you go. It might be an amazing drive, but if you can’t hike the River it might be a long trip to disappointment. https://www.nps.gov/zion/planyourvisit/toxic-cyanobacteria-bloom-in-the-virgin-river-and-the-streams-of-zion-national-park.htm

Visit the NPS site about hiking the Virgin River before you go. There is information there that will make your hike more enjoyable – and may save your life. https://www.nps.gov/zion/planyourvisit/thenarrows.htm

Shooting the ISS

I would go out to Manassas on cold winter mornings and watch the International Space Station (ISS) pass overhead. For me it was also a chance to go out and enjoy the crisp winter breezes and the sounds of the fields and forests on those cold winter mornings.

Overhead there is a silent rustle of an owl’s wing. Beyond me in the field I hear the deer snorting, NH-SNPHFF, as a deer clears its nostrils to get my scent. I can just hear the accompanying stomp of its foot. The deer are close at hand.

I stand quietly to listen for other sounds of the woods. To the west in the largest stand of hardwoods I hear a Great Horned Owl calling. A resonant, deep bass call, it is a chilling sound. It echoes through all of Creation. that surrounds me.

My eyes have adjusted to the darkness, and I look up.

I suck in a breath of cold air as I see the piercing points of the stars and planets far above. I have chosen a moonless night because the darkness will be deeper, and the stars and planets will stand out with greater clarity.

I orient myself. There is the Big Bear/Dipper (Ursa Major), and it shows me the way to Polaris, the North (Pole) Star, at the tip of the tail of the Little Bear.

Whenever I see Polaris, I always ask myself, Why does the little bear have such a long tail?

I look at my watch. I have twenty minutes before the ISS passes overhead in its orbit. It will reflect light from the still-hidden sun and shine as bright as any star in the night sky.

Before I set up my camera I lean back against my car and look up. I can pick out a few constellations and primary stars. I see a smaller satellite pass overhead. The satellite is a moving point of light among many stationary points of light (the stars and planets).

I want to eliminate any extra movement of my camera as that will blur the stars and gives them “tails”. However for satellite photography, including the ISS, I want the photo of the object to show a tail/trail so you can pick it out on a print where the stars are points of light. The satellite will show a tail/trail of light because of its movement across the sky.

I set up my tripod with my camera mounted on my home-made Azimuth Tracker. The Tracker moves the camera in relationship to the axis of the Earth so the stars will remain as points of light. The satellite will have a tail/trail in the photograph.

And I am ready.

I have been out for about 30 minutes. The time for the shuttle’s arrival and procession across the dark sky is near. I watch the southwest quadrant for my fast-moving target. As it appears, I depress the plunger on my locking extension cable to open the camera’s shutter (I am using film).

I count the seconds as I turn the crank to move the Azimuth Tracker and my Camera. Within three minutes I am done.

The wind has picked up, and the eastern sky is beginning to show a little light.

As the light grows in the east, I pack my camera and other gear into the trunk of my car. And then I lean against the car to again look up into the still dark sky. I see another small satellite swim through the darkness. An early bird is disturbed by my presence. It flies out of the Walnut tree and into the darken sky.

I know that is a hint that I should leave for the start of my day. I climb into my car and head into work.

After the film is developed and prints made, each picture carries in it the coldness of the early morning, the feel of the wind, and the sounds of the open field.

My picture at the top of the article shows the trail of the ISS. And the stars have short tails from the not-perfect alignment of my Azimuth Tracker. And the tail/trail of the ISS shows giggles form the wind.

To see the ISS use the NASA tool may be found at: https://spotthestation.nasa.gov/