First Day of Autumn, First Frost

Nearly Wordless Wednesday

The Autumnal Equinox occured in Sedillo yesterday, September 22, 2009, at 15:18 MDT.

A cold front also brought us a frosty morning as the dogs and I went out to walk in the first sunrise of autumn.

Sunrise over the Los Pinos Ridge, as seen from the top of Los Pecos, in the High Meadow.

As we turned to go down the hill, we could see all of Cedar glowing in the gentle autumn sunrise, the Jemez mountains a blue shadow in the background. In the foreground, aspens are well on the way to turning.

The winterfat is fluffy and white, below the ridge; the grasses have taken on that autumnal frosty silver in the meadow.

Winter is coming. And it will be early.

We took the path along the middle fork of Sedillo Wash up into the woods. Though behind us, the mountain valley is lit up by the rising sun, here the shadow of the ridge mutes the colors, and keeps chilled in the frosty air.

Frost turns the gold on the rabbitbrush flowers to white, and softens the dark cryptogamic lichens and rock.

The season is changing, and the winter birds coming, Juncos taking the place of the Meadowlarks.

Living in the mountains, we can see the sunrise twice. Once from the top of the High Meadow, and then from the edge of Sedillo Canyon along Los Pecos. Here, on the way home, we stopped to watch the autumnal equinox sunrise again, from the woods along the road.

Another Equinoctical Storm

NEARLY WORDLESS SPECIAL

The Engineering Geek's official rain guage read 1.8" after a rain that started in the pre-dawn lasted until nearly 1 PM this afternoon

For perspective, our mountains usually get an average precipitation of 12 - 16 inches per year.

It was still misting lightly as the dogs and I ventured out to check on the area after the downpour stopped.

The water pools on the downhill side of a culvert, last stop before it cascades down the rocks and into Sedillo Canyon. I wish I had been willing to brave the mud and venture into the canyon. I might actually have seen water running in the arroyo there.

Water rilling and pooling on the flat area below the road. It will be slowed down by a narrow inlet into the east source for Sedillo Canyon. This is a very unusual sight. The area is usually either muddy or dusty.

Water makes the road across the lower high meadow into a lake. And a river. It will take more than one day of sunshine to do a meadow walk. And we've only had one meadow walk this week. This has been an exceptionally rainy September.






Water in the culvert at Los Pecos and Los Pecos.
Last night's wind brought down the dead twigs.
Today's rain is washing them away down to Sedillo Canyon.

Our walk was accompanied by the murmur, babble and laughter of falling water. Lots of it.

The Rainbow Connection

Why are there so many songs about Rainbows,

And what's on the other side?

Rainbows are visions,

They're only illusions,

And Rainbows have nothing to hide. . .

--The Rainbow Connection

The spot-soon becomes the monsoon again,

with a little help from El Nino . . .

. . . and a lemon-clouded sunrise to the east,

The air is full of misty

South Mountain magic . . .

. . . And they all come together,
to make the Sandia Mountain
Rainbow Connection . . .

. . .We walk in beauty,

and our pathway is marked

with the rainbow sign.

What's so amazing that keeps us stargazing?

What are we hoping to find?

Someday we'll find it,

The rainbow connection,

The lovers,

The dreamers,

and me . . .

Thank you, Kermit the Frog!

Summer Wildflowers

NEARLY WORDLESS WEDNESDAY

Time for more of the One Hundred Species Challenge. I really wonder how long this will take me!

42. Blazing Star: Mentzilia multiflora var. multiflora. This is in Loasa family, It is a desert plant, and likes sandy soil and loess.

43. Desert Heliotrope: Heliotropum curassavicum

This plant also likes salty soil, sands and fines.

It is part of the Borage family, and ranchers like

the family because most of the plants

are good for grazing.

44. Miner's Torch (Mullein): Verbascum thapsis. This plant
is mildly poisonous, but is used extensively in the herbal healing arts. It is found where soil has been disturbed, and the yellow flowers have a very sweet smell and attact bees and flies.









The late summer flowers are now blooming and I will have to see what I did not have here last year!

Long Warm Days, Short Cool Nights, Early Summer Wildflowers

NEARLY WORDLESS WEDNESDAY

We have come to summer, though the nights are cool, and we have yet to turn on our swamp coolers. On our morning walks, I wear a jacket until the sun comes over the ridge, and then the intesity of the rays soon has it tied around my waist. We are seeing so many wildflowers. Some are new on my list, and some I identified last year but couldn't resist their beauty.


The meadow and the trees, the pale blue horizon deeping into that startling New Mexico blue, all speak of the change of season. Summer has come to the high meadow.

Last year I identified #16. Opuntia polycantha, the prickly pear cactus, but it was not in flower. Now it is, and you can see the resemblance of the Cacti to the rose family.

Near the top of the bank is the lavender flower:

37: Phlox hoodii. Carpet Phlox (a.k.a.

Santa Fe Phlox)

In the gravel beneath is:

38. Trogopodon dubius. Yellow Salsify.

One flower had been in seed the night before,

but the rain washed it away before morning.

In many places in the meadows, we find:
39. Erysium capitatum. Western Wallflower.
It is in the Brassicaceae, the Mustard Family.
It has the spicy smell of a mustard.

Blooming in the lower meadow is:

40. Bahia absinthfolia. Sageleaf Bahia.

I've seen this in April south of T or C, but

never until June does it bloom here!

At the edges of the meadow and among the pinyon and juniper tree, there is:
41: Agastache pallidiflora. Mountain Hyssop (sometimes called Giant Hyssop). This is a member of the mint family. You can see last years talks in the foreground, pale and dried.

The paintbrushes are back! This one, growing beneath

a pinyon, has found a beautiful home. I counted

this last year, this is #18. Castilleja applegatei.

Indian Paintbrush, a member of the snapdragon family,

Scrophulariaceae.

That's all for this week! Late Saturday night, just before midnight, the Summer Solstice will happen in our time zone! We are quickly headed to the longest day of the year!

Hidden Blooms

The ubiquitous "they" still say that this is not an early monsoon season,
but to those of us living in the Sandias it sure feels like it is.

The rains have brought us some hidden blooms. Two more for the One Hundred Species Challenge.

35. Penstamon breviculus. Shortstem pestamon.
We almost stepped on this one in the high meadow.

36. Escobaria vivipara (var. neomexicana). Pincushion ball cactus (also called Coyphatha or Mamillaria varieties).

We are walking very carefully in the high meadow these days. Both dogs routinely jump over the cacti or go around them, as they have learned. So have we.

Happy Summer!

Occultation

MORE NEARLY WORDLESS WEDNESDAY

This morning, as I went out to get the newspaper, I looked up to see the beginning of an occultation of Venus with the waning crescent moon. I was quite surprised, because I didn't know it was going to happen. Usually, the Engineering Geek, who is quite the amateur astronomer, keeps me apprised of these things!
I dropped the paper on the porch and ran in to grab the EG, shaving lather all over his face, as well as my camera.

I also got the Boychick up. I have learned never to say, "Hey, Boychick, do you want to see an occultation of Venus and the Moon?"

Instead, I pounded on the door and yelled, "Hey, Boychick! Hurry! You've got to see this!"

He responded, "What?"

I pretended not to hear. I yelled, banging louder, "Hurry up! You'll miss it!"

Pure curiosity thus achieved what an invitation to learning alone would not.

Here is the rare and wonderful sight

just a moment before first contact,

which is when the planet Venus

appears to just touch the bright curve

of the lunar crescent.

April 22, 2009, 6:13 AM MDT

A few minutes later we see the moment of second contact, when the planet Venus seems

to disappear behind the crescent moon!

Unfortunately, we were not able to see the end of the occultation, when Venus would appear to emerge from behind the shadowy dark of the waning moon. The sun was up by 7:05 AM, and we could scarcely see the Crescent, and we could not find Venus at all!

There are more wonders in the natural world than we can imagine. And today! Today, thank goodness I stopped to see this great sight!

For more on the occultation, check out the Sky and Tel' site.

We Found It on Chupadera Mesa...!

As some of you know, Bruce and I have been looking for the perfect astronomy lot for some time. We had found a "good"--not "perfect"-- one in our own subdivision, but then some legal issues about an access road made it much less desirable for our purposes. So we backed out of the deal.

Last February, though I took N. and his friend A. to Grand Quivera on Chupadera Mesa. It was so peaceful there, and I knew the nights would be dark. But although I tried to imagine what the Spanish priest would have thought, sitting on the bench outside his church there, I did not think about it for our astronomy purposes.

Then, about a month ago, I saw an article in the Sunday paper about a sustainable development by the Heritage Land Conservancy located on Chupadera Mesa. When I contacted them, they offered us the chance to come down to look at land. To sweeten the deal, they said they'd put us up on-site overnight. Since Bruce and I have not had a weekend getaway together in over a year, we jumped at the opportunity.

So Saturday morning, we packed a Pesach lunch to-go, and headed down to Mountain Air, NM to meet our "Land Preservation Specialist" a.k.a. realtor who would take us out onto the Preserve and explain this unique concept of a private preserve/development on which people would live and work to preserve the land for multiple uses--ranching, recreation, and sustainable living in comfort and even luxury.

After a detour due to the fire in the Manzanos, and a mix-up about where to meet Charlie, we finally got into a company F-150 and were out on the land.


Our first stop was Goat Canyon Overlook in the Deer Canyon Preserve. Here, we looked out over Chupadera Mesa toward the Manzano Mountains, where the view was somewhat hazy due to the fires.

Here, Charlie talked a bit about the concept and the Heritage Land Conservancy, which is a non-profit organization. The Heritage Preserve is the for-profit arm that creates the preserves and developments. "Together, " we were told, "These organizations provide provide working examples of sustainable business practices and a set of initiatives designed to balance human needs... with the needs of a healthy ecosystem."


Here, Bruce and Charlie examine the map on a lot at the mesa top, looking for the building envelope.

The concept of a private for-profit preserve that serves the human need for quality of life interests us greatly. One reason that we are more interested in the Nature Conservancy than other "green" organizations is that many of the other groups assume that humans do not belong in earth's ecosystem. We disagree. We believe that the only way to preserve the land and live well on it is through for-profit enterprises in which people have use of (and therefore a stake in) the land they desire to preserve. We like the concept that people will take care of things that have value to them, because it enhances their quality of life.



We had looked at some lots at the base of Chupadera Mesa, and these Bruce pronounced "good" astronomy lots, but not "great."Then, nose of the F-150 pointed at the sky, we drove to the top of the Mesa.

Wow! Here we are looking south across the Mesa edge in the foreground, with the Pinos Mts. beyond, and beyond them, the tops of the Magdalena Mts. are just visible.

We knew that if we were to find the perfect astronomy lot, it would be up here! After surveying a few "great" lots,we were ready to go down again, but I suggested we take the "bumpy ride" (roads in process) across the top. There we found what Bruce called "Astronomy Row." Since these lots were platted, but not completely marked, Charlie suggested that we go to the guest house and meet up in the morning, with a GPS.


The guest houses are homes in the Phase I that the owners have not permanently occupied. They lease the house back to the company, and guests get to stay in them while looking for land.

The refrigerator was stocked with all kinds of goodies. Here Bruce is grilling our dinner on the porch. Steaks, nice and juicy. We microwaved some potatoes and vegetables, and uncorked the bottle of New Mexico Cabernet left for us.

We spent the evening making plans and gazing at the stars, as Bruce had brought his Schmitt-Cassegrain along for observing purposes.



The next morning, after we had our coffee on the porch and enjoyed the humming birds--they're back!--Charlie picked us up, armed with a GPS, so that we could look carefully at "Astronomy Row."

On the way up the Mesa, in the Open Space, two mule deer stood, watching us carefully, while I photographed them from the truck. When the truck was put back in gear, they slipped silently back into the Pinyon-Juniper woodland.

It was then on up the mesa to walk some lots.

The lots are approximately 20 acres each. Each has either a one acre or three acre building envelope on which the owners can put a house, guest-house and outbuilding. Owners can fence this portion, own animals, and even operate a small business at home. When closing on the land, the owner signs an easement which says that the rest of the land will be open for recreational use exclusively by the residents of the development, and that the land will be remediated as needed for beauty and enjoyment. The property owner also agrees to restrictive covenants that protect property values and views for everyone. Finally, the property owner enters into a Well Trust, to maintain the private wells that provide water.


On Sunday morning, we found our lot on the top of Chupadera Mesa. It sits on a corner between the main road (which will be gravel to better manage run-off) and a cul-de-sac. Here is a view along the road front, in the background are the Manzano Mts., the haze gone for the morning.

The lot sits at the crown of this part of the mesa, and the building envelope sits right on the ridgeline. It has 360 degree views, making it the "perfect" astronomy lot among all the "great" astronomy lots on "Astronomy Row" according to Bruce. Four mountain ranges can be clearly seen from here: the Manzanos, the Pinos, Sierra Blanco and the Capitans, and the Gallinas. On a clear day, one can also see the Magalenas, the Sandias, the Jemez, the Sangre de Cristos, and the Sacramentos. These are views that extend for more than 100 miles.


Here, we are looking into the more wooded area at the back of the lot from the side road that ends in a cul-de-sac.

The land is in reasonable shape--an open-meadow and trees. The plant life is mostly climax species appropriate for the place--pinyon-juniper woodland, with meadows of gramma grass. There are only a few pre-climax species, indicating overgrazing in the past.

We did look at several other lots near-by, my Engineering Geek being very thorough, but ultimately we kept coming back to this one. It had the highest elevation in the area, 7260 feet, with the best of the spectacular views.

The lot is not yet ready for purchase, because the road must be improved and electric wires and well lines must be run to the property line, so we put money down to reserve the lot until release. It will be ours to purchase when it is released.

We will not build for approximately 4 years.
Bruce will be retiring and starting his second career then, and I will done at the university and planning my third career.

But when we do, we plan for maximum efficiency and comfort--I am married to an engineer, so efficiency comes first!--with passive solar design, solar hot water, and electric, as well as rain-water harvesting and gray-water reclamation. The rain-water harvesting is required at the mesa top, the rest is strongly encouraged but optional. However, it only makes sense for our pocketbook to invest up front when building in order to recoup many energy savings over the years, especially with energy prices increasing as they are.

And of course, we plan to build an observatory. No question about that. The only question is whether it will be a dome or a slide-away roof, attached to the house or free-standing.

Bruce is looking forward to having his 'scopes permanently set up.

Four years are going to go by fast with all the planning and working we'll need to do to accomplish this dream.

Stopping by the Woods on a Snowy Morning

This was one of those days in New Mexico.

A day on which if a person did not like the weather in the morning, by afternoon it was completely different.
We awoke to a snowy, foggy, gray and white morning.
So when the dogs and I went out for our morning walk, I decided to take the forest trail.






Originally, I had thought to go around the road to the meadow, but the path from the side of the house down the hill to the new road beckoned, and so we went.

I realized that I have taken many pictures of this path coming up, but few going down away from the house.

It's amazing how the same path looks so different depending on one's direction.


What a monochromatic morning. Gray sky and white snow with gray shadows. Slate colored bark on the trees, and gray-green branches of juniper and pinyon, broken only by the brown of scrub oak and the lighter straw of the grasses. It had a November feel.

Today was the also the second day of the Great Backyard Bird Count. Through the first part of the walk we saw only a few birds, this one perched high in a tree, and two in flight.

Later, we heard and saw more activity, as the morning drew on, and the fog lifted a bit, and the light, though still diffuse, grew stronger.

Today's count:

• Norther Flicker (Red-shafted)--2
• Stellar's Jay --5
• Western Scrub Jay--2
• Black-Capped Chickadee--2
• Dark-eyed Junco--2

Since it was a Shabbat morning, and we were footloose and fancy free, I decided to go farther up the mountain than I usually do. The forest trail, usually rocky and red-soiled, with dappled sunlight, was instead white covered, and the rocks were dark in contrast.

I kept thinking of Robert Frost's poem, Stopping By the Woods on a Snowy Evening, even though this was in truth a "snowy morning."

These woods are indeed lovely, dark and deep, but we were in no hurry to keep any promises this time. Instead of continuing up the mountain, when we came to a fork in the path, I decided to go down the Sedillo watershed, a small arroyo that only carries running water this high up when it rains.

After about ten minutes down the mountain, a dark form caught my eye, a mountain lion across the arroyo-bed leapt into the brush. I have never seen a mountain lion up here, and unfortunately, it was gone before I got my camera out. However, after proceeding a ways further on my side, the path entered the arroyo-bed, and there we found its track. The mountain lion registers the hindfeet into the track of the front feet, except here, where it slid just a bit on the ice. Since there was no sun, this is the best contrast I could get for a picture, but it makes the track deeper and wider than they looked in the snow of the pathway. Compared to coyote and dog tracks, these actually conveyed a sense of lightness, in the snow.

The dogs got very excited when we encountered the tracks--they had not seen the animal itself--and I imagine it was aware of our coming long before I saw it, and that is why it left the arroyo and crossed over to the other hillside. The jays were letting me know where it was, and they also were letting it know where we were. And when they saw the tracks, the dogs hair was up on their necks, and they did a good deal of silent but alert sniffing.

Soon, however, we came to the track that would take us back to the high meadow, along the new road and up the hill to home. We left the arroyo there, and so never found out where the tracks oringinated--probably somewhere farther down the mountain.

We had rambled for over an hour, enjoying the snow, and it was time for a leisurely Shabbat breakfast, some coffee and good book before the fire, as the fog and cloud continued to roll down the mountains.

It was warm and cozy in the house, dark and blustery outside. And

And it was nice while it lasted. By two-o-clock, the sun was out and the snow fast melting away.

Like they say here: If you don't like the weather, wait awhile. It will change.

Great Backyard Bird Count Day One

The first morning of the Great Backyard Bird Count did not dawn. The light incrementally increased through clouds and fog.

Here are our mountains as they looked this morning from the living room window. Tijeras Canyon and the valley are covered a fog below the peaks.

We did our observing while walking the dogs through the open space meadow behind our house, and on up to the high meadow above the new road.



The first animal signs we saw were not birds at all, but the deer tracks frozen into the mud on the meadow.

The deer have been out every evening and every morning, and the meadow paths and game-trails are just covered in deer prints, overlain by coyote tracks, deer and coyote scat, and even a few rabbit prints.

In the meadow we saw a two ravens riding the wind, hunting the meadow. They then went soaring away to the north, where we saw them settle on the road. They were probably breakfasting on road-kill or someone's carelessly put out trash bin.



Here is our first specimen perched at the top of a Rocky Mountain Juniper just outside the living room window. This one, like most in this range has red bars on his wings. I thought he was a dove until I saw the markings and the beak, because he looks so gray in the light we had this morning.











In the upper meadow, we saw two of these Southern Rocky Juncos. Although according to the species list, they are not called that any more. It is thought that all of the Juncos are the same species, and are divided by color. They are just called Dark-Eyed Juncos. These are the gray and slate variety seen in the southern Rockies and down here just south of them.




Our total count today was:

• Redtail Hawk--1
• Northern Flicker (red-shafted)--1
• Stellar's Jays--3
• Ravens--2
• Black-capped Chikadees--4
• Dark-eyed Juncos--gray-headed --2

It is supposed to snow tonight, so it will interesting to see what kinds of birds (if any) are out and about tomorrow.

It's Always the End of the World As We Know It: A Review of The Little Ice Age

Today is the last day of the winter term break at UNM, and tomorrow I begin the spring term studies. My time to read what I want will become more limited as my spring semester studies begin in earnest by the end of this week. So over the weekend just past, I completed a book I had begun shortly after the secular new year.

Tomorrow is also Tu B'Shevat, the Jewish New Year of Trees, which is the Jewish Arbor Day, and has become a time to consider our dependence on Earth's ecology. It is therefore doubly fitting that I finished reading Brian Fagan's The Little Ice Age: How Climate Made History 1300-1850. (Basic Books, New York, 2000) just this morning.

In honor of Tu B'Shevat, then, as well as a commemoration of 5 weeks in which I got a lot of miscellaneous reading done, I thought I'd discuss this book today on my blog.

I first heard about a climatic event called 'the little ice age' when I was working on a BS in Geology in Illinois in the early '80's. It was discussed briefly in the Historical Geology course I was taking, as well as later, in an Astronomy class that I took for fun. I knew it as a period of colder climate that affected primarily the northern hemisphere during the early modern period, that it was preceded by the Medieval Warm Period and followed by the Modern Warm Period, in which the earth's average temperature once again is stable, high and climbing. There was some speculation at the time that changes in ocean currents in the north Atlantic Ocean may have been a cause of the colder period that followed the Medieval Warm Period. Later, when I was studying Paleoclimatology under Dr. Roger Andersen at UNM, I heard more about how changes in water salinity in the north Atlantic could have stopped the warm Gulf Stream from crossing east south of Greenland, thus affecting the climate of Europe during the little ice age. So when I saw Fagan's book toward the bottom of the stack on weather at our little East Mountain Branch library, I thought I might find out more about this interesting period in European and Earth history.

I read the preface at the library, while waiting for N. to finish his selections. I tend to do this in order to decide which books that I have taken off the shelves are really worth checking out and lugging home. What really intrigued me was that Fagan promised the reader that he would not only discuss the little ice age in terms of the science we have now, but also the impact it likely had on European history, as well as how ongoing climate change might continue to affect us. Fagan wrote:

"Humanity has been at the mercy of climate change for its entire existence. Infinitely ingenious, we have lived through at least eight, perhaps nine, glacial episodes in the past 730,000 years. Our ancestors adapted to the universal but irregular global warming since the end of the Ice Age with dazzling opportunism. They developed strategies for surviving harsh drought cycles, decades of heavy rainfall or unaccustomed cold...(but t)he price of sudden climate change in famine, disease and suffering, was often high." (Preface p. xii).

Fagan then discussed the current state of the science of reconstructing the climatic fluctuations and what that means for what we know, saying: "...the Little Ice Age was far from a deep freeze. Think instead of an irregular see-saw of rapid climatic shifts, driven by complex and still little-understood interactions between the atmosphere and the ocean...the Little Ice Age was an endless zigzag of climatic shifts, few lasting more than a quarter century. Today's prolonged warming is an anomaly." (Preface, p. xiii).

I was hooked! This was going to be really interesting, especially given all of the controversy about global climate change in our discussion of the politics of the day. So often, as I have discussed here, we tend to think of the past climate as if it was one long now, with change only happening in the future, and we think in very short periods of time.

Fagan structured the book in four parts, each about a particular time period related to the subject, and each part is divided into chapters that discuss the the climatic shifts, the science behind their causes as we know them, and the related historical events and social changes that were affected, at least in part, by the climate. Part I, Warmth and Its Aftermath, gives information about the Medieval Warm Period and the social and agricultural activities that it affected, such as the Norse exploration of Iceland, Greenland, and North America (Vinland), and the increasing agricultural use of lands northwards and at high elevations in Europe. He then discusses the North Atlantic Oscillation (the NAO, similar to the ENSO cycle of the Pacific) and how the stability of the NAO contributed to the warm period and how the predictability of the climate encouraged the medieval European social structure called "the Full World" by the French. He then discusses how, by the end of the Medieval Warm Period, the NAO was weaker and more unpredictable, leading to the Great Famine of 1315 - 1321 signaled the beginning of the instability of the Little Ice Age.

Part II, The Cooling Begins, starts with a discussion of the 'climatic see-saw' that characterized the Little Ice Age. Here Fagan outlines the evidence for changes in climate found in tree rings and ice cores, and ties this information to events such as volcanic eruptions, and descriptions of storms and bad weather. He then outlines how these climatic changes first affected trade in the North Sea and with Iceland and Greenland, the breaking of the Hanseatic League monopoly on cod fisheries, and the abandonment of the Greenland Western Colonies. He also discusses the development of ships better able to withstand storms and ice, as well as the economics behind these changes and how they were precipitated, in part, by the climate see-saw.

In Part III, the End of the 'Full World,' Fagan turns to the organization of European agriculture at the end of the Medieval Warm Period, and the changes brought on by the onset of an unpredictable climate. He begins this part with a description of subsistence agriculture and what it means: farmers grow enough to feed a small number of people for that year, and they may harvest enough to survive one bad year, but no more. Fagan then goes on to explain how the rapid climatic shifts and many bad years during the Little Ice Age resulted in an agricultural revolution in Europe, but not all at once and not for everyone. Political structures and custom, as well as the varying impact of the unpredictable NAO on different regions, had much to do with which parts of Europe developed more intensive commercial agriculture and when. The Low Countries and England, both politically more innovative, did so first, and France, with its entrenched nobility and top-down decision making was dead last. The Little Ice Age, Fagan says, did not in itself cause the violence of the French Revolution, but climatic shifts resulting in a series of bad harvests had a hand in the timing of it. To me this part was the most compelling in the book, because in it, Fagan related events to a much more precise understanding of the climate at the time, for in discussions of more recent events, records using modern measurements of temperature and precipitation were available. This part ends with descriptions of two catastrophic events that came near the end of the Little Ice Age: the Year without a Summer brought on by the eruption of Tambora, and the 'Great Hunger' of the Irish Potato Famine, brought on by a combination of climate, oppressive political rule and indifference of the English, and the establishment of monocultural subsistence farming in Ireland.

Fagan concludes the book in Part IV, The Modern Warm Period, with a discussion of what we do and do not know about the causes of the current global warming. Currently, he says, the data show that we are experiencing warming equivalent to the Medieval Warm period, and thus can expect to see vineyards in Britain, and the movement of arable land northward and to high elevations. But is this the result of the cycle of warming and cooling that the earth has experienced since the end of the last glacial period, or does human activity (increasing greenhouse effect due to the burning of hydrocarbons) play a major role now? The answer, Fagan says, will not be definitively know for possibly 30 more years, although the evidence points to an increased role for human activity. This is because we are only now beginning to understand the role of solar activity (sunspot cycles--minimums and maximums, as well as changes in solar radiation) in producing earth's climatic cycles. (You can find more about this topic here). I found this little discussion compelling, and I want to share it with you:

"What form will this (new era of climate change) take? One school of thought...is serenely unfazed by global warming. Gradual climate change will bring more benign temperatures...milder winters and more predictable weather--much like earth in the time of the dinosaurs. Humanity will adjust effortlessly to its new circumstances, just as it has adjusted to more extreme changes in ancient times.

"The record of history shows that this is an illusion. Climate change is almost always abrupt, shifting rapidly within decades, even years, and entirely capricious. The Little Ice Age was remarkable for its rapid changes...(and) the same pattern of sudden change extends back to the Great Ice Age of 15,000 years ago, and probably to the very beginnings of geolocical time." (p. 213).

The very last paragraphs of the book describe how glacial melt-water flowing into the North Atlantic 11,000 years ago completely shut down the warm oceanic conveyor currents, and stopped an earlier warming period "in its tracks." This created the Younger Dryas, a 1,000 year long cold period that brought Europe to near-glacial conditions. It happened rapidly, within a decade or two, and was a complete climatic shift.

Fagan says: "Even if the present warming is entirely of natural origin...we and our descendents are navigating uncharted climatic waters. In that respect we are no different than medieval farmers or eighteenth-century peasants, who took the weather as it came. Today we can forcast the weather and model climatic change, but globally we are still as vulnerable to climate as were those who endured the famine of 1315 or the storms of the Spanish Armada...The vicissitudes of the Little Ice Age remind us of our vulnerability again and again..." (p. 217).

It will take me some time to really chew over the lessons of the Little Ice Age, its impact on history, its warnings for the future. But I can say now that one thing that made this book so fascinating and so compelling to my thought, was that Fagan did not, in the end, attempt to give a definitive answer about global climate change and its trajectory and causes. Nor was he overly prescriptive in what we ought to do, if anything, to meet its challenges. Rather, he shows us through eyewitness descriptions, science, literature and art, how suddenly, how irrevocably the world as we know it can change, and has changed. Indeed, when we face an unknown future, it's always "the end of the world as we know it."

Winding Down

We're enjoying a sunset of the shortening days tonight.
The light is weak and the shadows dark.

It's so strange. Last week at this time, I was just finishing up my semester.
We had a Shiva (house of mourning) call to make in the evening, and Bruce informed me that he'd have to work the next day, Friday, because he was hard-pressed to finish a report for DOE New Orleans. Bruce works a 9/80 schedule, which means that he works 80 hours in 9 days, and then takes every other Friday off. So he worked last Friday, which was his "9/80" day off. He then had to take the day off by Thursday this week, or lose it.

We were pretty frantic, sad, and tired at the end of last week. We didn't consider how really well putting off Bruce's 9/80 day would work out. Sandia takes a week of "energy conservation" shut-down for all non-essential personnel during the week between Christmas and the secular New Year. They combine all of the normal Monday holidays throughout the year to get this week off, taking the official Christmas and New Years holiday. That shut-down occurs next week.


Bruce took today off as his 9/80 day, and is taking tomorrow as a vacation day.
The report is finished, reviewed and submitted. I am done with papers, presentations and finals.

We are winding down.

I had my husband home all day today.
I cleaned and polished the floors.
Yeah, I know. It's work. But for me, after weeks of neglecting taking care of my house due to grad-school work, it's a form of winding down.

Bruce read.
Lily was overjoyed to sit in Bruce's lap and listen to him read Origins: Fourteen Billion Years of Cosmic Evolution aloud to her. She's a Geek-dog.







Before we were supposed to go to Taekwando, I took a walk around the house to take some pictures of the sunset.

As I turned to get the sun-glare out of my eyes for a minute, I noticed that my shadow was dark on the bay-window west wall of the house.
So I snapped a picture of it.

I thought that was kind of cool, my shadow taking a picture of my shadow taking a picture...
It's nice to play around a little in a winding down sort of way.




N. is winding down, too.

When I came in to tell him to get ready for Taekwando, he asked it we could stay home tonight.
He was cleaning his room.
He was really into it.
He was rearranging furniture. Putting up his milk-crate shelves.
Even the dogs got involved.

Nes gadol hoveh po. A great miracle is happening here.

Naturally, we stayed home tonight.




Viola!

The bed is made.
The furniture is 'undusted.'
The night table has wood showing.
The carpet was vacuumed.
And there is actual carpet visible.

This is very good.
I have to get up early tomorrow and get to town in the morning. We need to stock up.

As I write, my Weather Cricket on my computer screen is chirping urgently.
There is a winter storm warning posted for tomorrow afternoon through Saturday evening.

It's a good thing we went to the library yesterday.
Looks like we'll get some more down time tomorrow.