2021 Reading

 I read the same number of books this year (47) as I did in 2020, but about 7,000 fewer pages. I blame Steven Erikson for the discrepancy, since 2020 was the year I finished the Malazan Book of the Fallen series. That said, not included in my 2021 list is the book I'm currently reading, which clocks in at around 1,050 pages, and Timothy Renner's slim volume, "The Witch Cloud - The Haunted Bridges of Gettysburg, Pennsilvania" which has yet to be added to either Goodreads or Discogs (it comes with a Black Happy Day lathe-cut 5" record).

The End Births A Beginning

 Traditionally, the week between Christmas and New Year's Day is a time of reflection. Not much else ever seems to happen during this time period. I realize, of course, that many people never reflect at all, and it shows. Our society has become fragmented by social media, with digital enclaves of suspicious people peering out over the tops of digital barriers, menacingly waving their Twitter spears at each other with unveiled hostility. All of the isms are very much still in play, and those who know the least continue to be the loudest. In Antarctica, a massive wall of ice dubbed as the Doomsday Glacier shows signs of giving up the ghost, unleashing catastrophe. The Omicron Covid variant is in the news, although many digital enclaves have their heads buried deep in the internet so they don't have to engage with reality. So yeah, the world is messy.

Personally, my year was pretty good. Work sort of returned to normal. I realized I don't really miss going to stores (although my online purchasing has gotten out of hand) and I've developed a habit of getting up early so I can go find birds. Speaking of which, my creative eggs are all firmly in the bird photography basket at the moment, but I have plans to get back into drawing, thanks to a couple of recent gifts from Willow. I've started using eBird to log bird sightings, and late in the year I decided to see if I could log 200 species by December 31st. This means I have two days to find my final three species, but I have a plan.

I don't have any walking or reading stats at my fingertips. I'm currently in the middle of Tad William's massive fourth "Otherland" book, with 700 or so pages to go. I turned 54 this year, and at some point recently, I realized that I could probably calculate pretty accurately how many more books I'll be able to read before I die (based on how many books I get through a year, and roughly how old my parents were when they died - although I realize that I lead a marginally healthier lifestyle than either of them did). The fact that my mom died in the middle of a book, which was left open on the kitchen table, sometimes haunts me. That said, none of us ever get to see the end of the story. It continues on with or without us. Our personal stories never really end either. Our connections bear fruit in the minds of others. Ideally, our inspiration outlives us. 

Unless, of course, we're among those who don't reflect and inspire, in which case we're more likely to be simply erased from history.

These stream-of-consciousness ramblings brought to you while under the influence of: Bernardo Devlin "Chroma"

Christ Mess

 Of late, my pattern is to post here whenever I have a couple of weeks off. My recharging time needs to be longer these days, I guess. I'd hate to discover what things would be like if I had a less appealing job. As things stand, work weeks fly by like plummeting falcons, and the weeks off aren't much slower. That's one of the problems with getting older - we never have as much time left as we think we do, and the clocks are all ticking out grindcore beats. Long gone are days when December lasted months. This year, my holiday shopping was mostly confined to the last week. We plan a small gathering later today. Most of us have had booster shots, and many of us avoid crowds. I know I do.

I'm still focusing on bird photography (pun intended), and lately I've taken to using eBird to report findings. According to eBird, my life list stands at 192 species, although there are a bunch of birds that I saw when I wasn't counting. I may add a couple more to the list before the end of the year. 

I plan to post here again before the end of the year with a more fleshed-out reflection (although I had an epiphany earlier this year about how I don't really "plan" - I'm more of a spur-of-the-moment improvisor type in everything I do, from teaching to playing music). Happy holidays, may they be Omicron free.

Typed to the merry tune of: Mandible Chatter "Drinking Out the Hourglass"

A Year And A Half Later...

 For the first time in 18 months, we had a week of residential science camp. Sure, there were fewer than 40 kids, but they stayed overnight in cabins, sleeping on the new beds and mattresses that are reportedly much more comfortable (not to mention bedbug-proof) than the old ones. In order to maintain cohort distance, the cabin groups were also field class groups, which is different from our normal approach of mixing up the groups so kids get to meet as many new people as possible. This week, it didn't really matter anyway, since there was only one school attending. We had initially scheduled two schools, but one rescheduled for later in the year. 

There were three cabin/field class groups. Mine consisted of 9 girls and 4 cabin leaders, although one of the latter went home on Monday due to migraine-related exhaustion. Normally, there would be a mixture of boys and girls in field class, but since there isn't in the cabins, currently field classes are a little less diverse.

The girls had a great time, and some of them were already quite knowledgable about the subject matter covered. The cabin leaders were competent, and it was nice to see the bond that grew between them and the girls. Normally, this isn't quite as evident in field class, because the cabin groups are split between multiple field class leaders. 

There was a garter snake at our meeting spot two days in a row, which proved to be a hit with the kids. The forest is noticably browner than usual due to the drought, which is worrying. There is some drizzle in the forecast for this weekend, but it won't amount to much. 

The night hike went smoothly, despite the fact that I hadn't led one in 18 months. We heard a Western Screech-owl and a Northern Pygmy Owl in quick succession, not to menton finding 10 or so Western Forest Scorpions with the aid of my UV light. Earlier in the day we found Western Screech-owl and Northern Saw-whet Owl feathers by the creek. The most unusual animal sighting of the week was a startled pair of Spotted Sandpipers at the reservoir. 

I hadn't realized how much I actually missed the normalcy of camp routine. Hopefully the school year goes smoothly. We're also offering hybrid programs for schools/districts who don't currently allow overnight field trips. so some weeks I'll most likely be leading those, or doing other assigned tasks. 

As they say, we're not out of the woods yet, figuratively or literally. As long as the woods don't catch on fire or die from the drought, we should be okay.

Written to the tune of Mike Seed "A Boy Mistaken For A Crow"

The Tides of Time Don't Quite Wash Everything Away

Today marks the 20 year anniversary of weaponized airplanes forever changing the skyline of NYC, not to mention the more subtle changes this inspired in the minds of the American public. Tomorrow marks the 1.5 year anniversary of the last time I worked a normal week of science camp. One can hardly compare these two events, I realize, but here they are, sharing a paragraph. 

We have a mere 30 students attending camp this coming week, split into 3 cabin/field class cohorts. Wednesday will mark the first night hike I will have led since the pandemic started. I had a full three weeks off in August, during which I did very little. This was followed by a couple weeks of training and gearing up for the school year, during which details were ironed (and re-ironed) out. We'll have to see how this coming week plays out. 

Written to the pulsing tones of Xambuca "Thaum"

Of Dippers and Decapitations, Plus Guns

 This country's fuse is a short one. In addition to all of the usual alcohol and explosions over the holiday weekend, there was a rash of gun violence. In Chicago alone, 14 people were killed. I just now found a site called Gun Violence Archive, which is a nonprofit that keeps track of all U.S. gun violence. A New York Post article states that at least 150 people were shot to death nationwide this weekend. A least one commentator on the GVA site maintains that our country has a mental health/anger problem, which I totally agree with. Of course, the commentator was approaching the discourse from a "don't take our guns away" angle, which seems a bit at odds with his comment. So, do we just let all of the mentally ill, angry people keep their guns? Sure, the question simplifies a somewhat complex issue, but it does illustrate the problem. Something needs to be done. I would be happy if all guns disappeared tomorrow, but I know that's not going to happen. I'm also fine with responsible gun owners keeping their guns, but the big question is, how do we keep them out of the hands of the mentally ill, angry people? I'm willing to bet that most gun owners would object to regular mental health checkups and anger management courses. This is where I would say tough shit. With great power comes great responsibility and all of that. I would like to see some data about what percentage of people who commit gun violence are so-called "responsible gun owners". 

I didn't start out to write about gun violence, but my stream of thought has many side channels, not to mention eddies. I was actually going to write about the headless baby opossum I found in the driveway earlier. I got home from looking for (and finding) an American Dipper, and found the poor 'possum sprawled headlessly on the concrete. From the look of the neck, it looked like some animal had chewed through it. Jeanine said she'd been out front a mere five minutes before and hadn't noticed it, which is weird. I'm guessing that it was there all along though, since opossums are nocturnal. Who knows though?  It's probably the baby we've been seeing in the backyard lately, although there may be more than one. We'll have to keep an eye out.

Oh, and here's the Dipper. 

Written to the sounds of Doc Wor Mirran feat. Schnitzler "Diaspar Parts 1 to 12"

Summer So Far...

 I went for a hike with Willow and Alex last weekend, choosing the trails at the upper end of Sanborn Park as our destination. We could probably have fried eggs in the sun, and under the canopy it was still warm, but bearably so. Now, Nathan is the only one of the siblings who hasn't come hiking with me during the pandemic. When I started this blog, Alex was 6 and Willow was nearly half a year away from being born. Now, Alex is in his mid-twenties and Willow is 18. Not that I have either constantly or consistently posted updates, but still... (a quick aside, apparently one dates oneself when using an ellipsis properly - a volunteer counselor at camp this week mentioned that it appears ominous when received in a text, like the tension-filled pause before the other shoe drops)

It's always nice to hike with Willow and any of the old stepkids who are available to come along. I might be the least busy of the bunch these days, since I rarely make weekend plans, choosing instead to be free to act on whims, which usually means leaving the house before 8:00 AM and going birding. Oddly enough, I caught a gopher snake while birding yesterday, but only long enough to brush the spider webs from its head (it looked like it had crawled through some dense webbing). I let it go off the trail so nobody would accidentally step on it or run it over. 

Week three of summer camp is behind us. Our iNaturalist project created to document the varied life found on and around our trails is currently at 779 species. I'm currently learning how to differentiate species of Yellowjacket (3 different species so far). At least one camper has created an iNaturalist account after seeing the project. He hasn't observed anything yet though.

The fire season is well underway, with reports of fires throughout the west, although none have hit close to home... yet (see what I did there?). The Pacific Northwest is sweltering under unreasonable heat, and the drought conditions are sure to make the coming months interesting.

Written to the languid strains of Boris "Boris at Last - Feedbacker"

A Moment of Whimsy Produces A Brief Update

Time sneaks by me like an uninvited guest, and suddenly it's late May. Willow graduates from high school this coming week, Eva is working at a florist, and Jeanine is splitting time between her pandemic job and her own business. My last day teaching virtual camp was yesterday. Will it be the last day ever? The uninvited guest may have something to say about that someday.

If the past 14 months have taught me anything, it's that I'm adaptable. Zoom has been our organization's meeting room and classroom of choice. We usually teach 10 and 11 year olds, but this year we had a few in-person weeks of camp with preschoolers and special educaton students as well, not to mention a few weeks with general-educaton 5th graders. I also spent a bit of time travelling to other sites to help procter/facilitate Covid testing. 

Next up, a week off and then summer camp. 

Written to the tune of Unrecognizable Now "Two Rooms"

Watching Wildlife

So far this year, I have been rudely staring at birds and taking their photos. I even spent a 4-day weekend counting them recently, as part of the GBBC (also known at the Great Backyard Bird Count). I counted 69 different species over those four days. On the last day of the count, I actually counted in our backyard (and a bit in the front yard for variety) and saw 22 different species, including one, a Northern Flicker, that I hadn't seen near our yard before. The next day, I saw my first White-crowned Sparrow near the yard, and two days ago a pair of Western Bluebirds out front (I see these pretty much every day at work, but this was a first seeing some at home). So, yeah, I've gone full bird-nerd. 

I have logged some observations on eBird, and some on iNaturalist. We have been using iNaturalist as part of our virtual camp routine with kids, and have even gotten at least one kid to create an account there. I have two accounts, one to log sightings at work, and one for everywhere else. My personal account is relatively new, so there aren't a lot of sightings there yet. For what it's worth, here's what I've logged so far.

So It Begins...

 For this year at least, I gave up the idea of staying up until midnight to ring in the new year. I used to be a creature of nocturnal habits, but these days I'm ready to sleep by 10:00 PM. I'm not sure what has changed, other than my age. Maybe nothing. 

This morning, I'm catching up on listening to music I bought during the last Bandcamp day. Bandcamp is going to continue to waive their fees on select Fridays for at least the immediate future, which means more money in the pockets of the artists. If nothing else, 2020 was a year where a lot of new people realized how essential art, in its myriad forms, is. I can't imagine life without it.

The first music to enter my ears this year has been:

Adrian Lane "Lekko Sketches Volume 3"

Die Geister Beschworen "Compilation Tracks"

irr.app.(ext.) "2020 Monthly Digital Single: Vesicular Distributor (November)"

Loam "Spirits" from "A Musical Benefit for the Yanomami"

Sylvie Walder + irr.app.(ext.) "Melange 1"  

Now, to go do something productive.