Foxes, Hawks, and Squirrels

Last night, in the darkest hour before the dawn, out of the corner of my eye, I saw movement outside the Hub window. I turned in time to see a Grey Fox scamper by. Quickly going outside, I saw that there were two of them. They didn't stick around long enough for me to get a good photo, and in seconds I was staring at the empty space where they had been standing. I followed them around the corner of a cabin and into the dark beyond. They had already crossed the long driveway at the edge of camp, and I could hear their footsteps as they crunched through leaves down the slope leading down to the meadow. I you look closely at the picture below, you can see the vague shape of one of the foxes at the corner of the fence by the cabin. I guess they don't like paparazzi. This is the first time I've seen foxes in the middle of camp.

Soon afterward, the sun rose.

Later, at home, Penelope the chicken started bucking up a storm. We noticed that all of the chickens were huddled on the right side of the yard, and none of them came running to the door to get snacks. I soon spotted the cause: a Cooper's Hawk, probably the same one that has been dining on doves, was perched on a wire nearby.

A squirrel crouched nearby, finishing something that looked suspiciously like one of our avocados. He dropped it soon after, and started toward the hawk.

The hawk, either full of dove or shocked to see its prey calmly approaching, elected to leave the wire...

...and find a new place to perch.

The squirrel eventually made it to the next pole. The hawk eventually left the area. Kind of anticlimactic, but fortunate for the squirrel.

Now, I'm back at work for the last night of the week. It has been another relatively easy week, with fewer than 70 kids in attendance and good cabin leaders. There was a tiny bit of rain a couple of nights ago, just enough to get the ground wet.

Wallowing In Fear

Somewhere in between the fear-mongering mainstream news outlets and the little DIY crackpot conspiracy news blogs, the truth lies. Somewhere there is a news source that doesn't report lies as truth. Somewhere, sports and celebrity gossip are relegated to the sidelines instead of being presented to the public as news that matters. The current state of affairs wouldn't be so problematic if people consumed with thought and checked sources. On Facebook, I often see people linking to stories that are either patently untrue or outright satire. The comedy site, Failbook, is a good place to find examples of this kind of thing, although the examples themselves might be faked too. The solution seems to be to trust nobody. That said, I've even seen people state distrust for fact-checking sites like Snopes based on political disagreements with the people behind the site. How can we be so gullible yet so mistrusting at the same time? The answer, of course, is that people believe what they want to believe and either ignore or spew bile about anything that clashes with whatever belief system they follow. Either way, the corporate shit shovels keep scooping steaming piles of "news" into our open mouths, and we keep asking for more.

That said, satire sites like The Onion are more likely to touch on what Werner Herzog calls "ecstatic truth" than most of the mainstream media news sites. The problem is that some people take it as literal truth.

Speaking of truth, one of the current hot topics is Ebola, which was identified back in the seventies, but is only now appearing on the radars of the sheltered citizens of the U.S. The media is doing its best to stoke the fires of panic, and many of the stories I've seen are full of what is basically grim speculation. Grim speculation isn't news. Ebola is scary enough on its own, of course, but the media seems determined to create panic.

Here is a site that seems to be taking a different approach, so if you want a more balanced look at the current epidemic, click away.

Pond

Over the Summer, the County Parks people started the process of fixing the pond near camp. By the end of summer, the pond was nearly drained. Now that the school year is well underway and I'm working nights, I don't get down to the pond much. Last night, my friend and co-worker, Jellyfish, told me I should go look at it, so this morning I went down there and took a few pictures. The pond is in the process of being dredged, and the muck is being dumped up in the chaparral somewhere. Once the dredging is complete, the cracks in the cement can be fixed. On the one hand, it's a shame that one of our teaching areas is out of commission, but on the other hand, this process has eradicated some of the invasive species that called the pond home, which in the long run will be a good thing.

On the way to the pond, deer calmly stared at me and indignant quail burst into the air as I approached.

A Gust of Autumn

Overnight, the wind picked up. This morning, a bank of distant clouds, backlit by the rising sun and spewing over the coastal range, looked like the smoke from a forest fire. Jeanine reports that the chickens looked ridiculous as the wind disarranged their feathers into fanciful formations. As I type the sky is several shades of grey (thankfully not 50) and the local foliage is dancing. It is unlikely that we'll get any rain today, but one can hope.

Last night, sometime before the wind started, a couple of girls came to visit me in the hub for some mild complaint or other (headaches, I think, although they visited me several times with thin excuses - I think they just wanted to stay up and talk) and then were afraid to walk back to their cabin because there was a fearsome looking... deer standing in the way. The girls had never seen a deer before, and were uncertain about their chances of getting back to bed unscathed. It was kind of cute, really. We stood and watched the deer together while I filled them in on what to expect from the local wildlife.

It's kids like this who gain the most from science camp. I wish I could see the world through their eyes. I enjoy seeing deer around camp at night, but it's definitely not something that fills me with excitement or trepidation. For these girls, it was a brand new experience. They were living on the edge.

In the morning, as the kids were getting ready for the day, one of the girls from the same cabin informed me that there was a mouse running around under the bunks. Fortunately, it was near enough to the door that I was able to quickly usher it out the door with a broom. It immediately ran around the corner and vanished up inside the vending machine.

Currently listening to: Kettle Rebellion

Renaissance Faire

Jeanine had Sunday free this weekend, so we found ourselves at the Renaissance Faire. For many people, the faire is an excuse to dress in cleavage-enhancing period costume and/or sport an arsenal of edged weapons, all while speaking in dubious medieval accents. Well, why not?

It was hot, and I imagine a lot of the people in the more elaborate costumes were quietly suffering. We took in some of the shows, which were mildly entertaining. Eva and Willow made candles, although Willow managed to wreck one of hers before we got to the car. I bought a Nepalese flute and a singing bowl because... well, why not? We ate overpriced food. Willow went on the bungee bounce thing:

While I was taking pictures of Willow, I remembered how I used to take pictures of her at various parks when she was little. My camera was out pretty much every time she went down the slide or got on a swing. Her hair would often fall victim to static electricity on the slide, which always made for good photos. Now that she is older, moments are more likely to go unrecorded. She is still a little girl at heart though, and even though we don't often go to city parks, she always wants to do things like the bungee bounce. I'm young at heart too, so I can easily identify with her when it comes to these kinds of things.

After the faire, we stopped at Casa de Fruta next door. I loaded up on salsa, spicy nuts, pickled garlic, and hot sauce. In fact, I think we all got nuts of some sort. Nuts are good road food.

At home, we watched the season premiere of The Walking Dead. The Walking Dead is the TV show that made me break my long-standing rule about not watching TV. I usually watch TV shows on DVD long after they've aired, but my inner zombie nerd dictates that I must watch these as they air. We were not disappointed. I really do think that as far as popular entertainment goes, some of the recent TV shows are giving movies a run for their money. Of course, to offset all of the good quality shows, there are things like Vanilla Ice Goes Amish (which, to be fair, I haven't seen and won't ever see, so I'm basing my derision on the concept alone), or any other reality show I might mention.

Motherless

The teacher who got to see the eclipse with me the other night just came in and thanked me for bringing her out to see it. The eclipse had slipped her mind because her mom had died a few hours before (I was unaware of this at the time). That's not quite as shocking as it sounds though. Her mom was quite elderly and in poor health, but expected or not, the death of a mom is never something easily shrugged off, so the eclipse-viewing provided her with an island of tranquility in the midst of an otherwise restless night.

Here's a song for those of us who find ourselves motherless, posted by Greg from one of his Thomas Carnacki performances, and featuring Dawn McCarthy on vocals. This was recorded the month after our own mother passed away.

The Moon Swells With Blood, and Then Bleeds Out

The so-called Blood Moon has come and gone. I watched the moon's face slowly vanish in a welter of red. At 3:30 in the morning, and lasting for quite some time, it looked like the moon had been replaced by Mars. While I craned my neck upward, I saw at least three meteors leave brief, white scratches across the star-speckled black. The crickets sang, and out front, four deer munched grass. One teacher and a couple of kids, up to use the bathroom, also got to see it.

I love it when these things happen on nights when I'm at work. Not only am I already up, but I'm getting paid.

The blood had almost completely drained away by the time the moon met the line of Redwoods on the ridge to the west.

Heat

Due to the heat, the first night of camp this week was plagued with sleeplessness for many of the kids. Many of them were exhausted and frustrated by their inability to fall asleep. There wasn't much I could do about it beyond telling them that the forecast called for slightly cooler temperatures today. Sure enough, today is cooler, although not as much cooler as the forecast stated it would be.

This morning, there were three turkeys on the front lawn at work. At home, Jeanine managed to get a phone photo of the hawk. Birds everywhere. Probably looking for water.

And here's Jeanine, medicating Dot the chicken. Dot is not at all sure about this.

And while I'm at it, a picture of Jeanine's Gooty Sapphire Ornamental Tree Spider, who put in a rare appearance on the glass side of his enclosure. He usually hides behind the backdrop.

Meanwhile, in drought news, California's hydropower is drying up. The only good thing to come out of resource-related problems like this is the fact that they hit people in the face with the fact that our resources are finite.

Gaze Into the Flickering Eye

While watching the season finale of "The Strain" (originally a trilogy of novels, then a comic book, and now a TV show, just to cover all bases, I guess...), we were subjected to an ad for a TV show called "Vanilla Ice Goes Amish". It struck me that the majority of TV shows like this are very anti-intellectual. More to the point, they're basically aimed at the lowest common denominator. At this moment, I was reminded of something.

The only possible reason for shows like this is to keep stupid people out of trouble.

If religion is the opiate of the masses, reality TV must be the crack of the masses. Keep 'em pacified and they'll never start questioning things. Keep 'em doped up on flashy images and they'll never start wanting anything better.

Sleeping In

For some reason, after having worked the night shift off and on since 2007, this is the year that I finally seem to be managing to get enough sleep. Although I guess it has only been a couple of years since I have been told to stay awake all night. Last year (or at least the part of the year I was working nights) and the year before, I never seemed to be able to stay in bed much past 2:00 PM. This year, I've managed to sleep until nearly 5:00 a couple of times. I'm not sure what the difference is this year. Maybe I'm more relaxed for some reason. Thursday and Friday this week, despite temperatures in the nineties, I slept the days away.

I even slept in longer than usual on the weekend. The downside to that is it makes the weekends seem shorter. Not that I did much this weekend. I've been a homebody lately. That said, I did leave the house on Friday evening with Jeanine, Eva, and Eva's friend, Jesse to go to the Halloween Haunt at Great America. I really only went to keep Jeanine company while Eva and Jesse had fun. Amusement parks aren't my idea of a good time, mostly due to the crowds. Sure enough, we spent much more time in line than we did inside the various attractions. In more than four hours, we went through three haunted mazes, saw two shows (some sort of zombie dance thing, which was actually pretty entertaining, and something called "Blades of Horror", which was an ice skating show, of all things), and went one one rollercoaster. The rest of the time, we stood in line, wandered around, and ate soft serve ice cream. The ice cream was the best part. Eva went back Saturday night, although to be fair, she mostly goes to hang out with friends. As for me, I'd much rather get into the spirit of things by staying home and watching horror movies. I've just started watching a French TV series called "Les Revenants" (based on the film "They Came Back", which is also excellent), which hits the mark in a subtle, eerie way.

I walked around four miles in the 90 degree heat on Saturday. I might have rethought that if I'd known it was going to get warm. That makes 13 miles I've walked so far this month. Hopefully we'll get some cooler weather soon. While I'm feeling hopeful, let me add rain to the list too.

Homecoming

Dot the chicken is back home. The vet prescribed antibiotics, which means one of us will have to hold her while the other pries open her beak and administers the medicine. Joy. Dash, with whom she shares a coop, missed her (or perhaps just her warmth) enough to bed down with the other chickens in the big coop. It's kind of funny when one takes Dash's personality into account. Dash is usually kind of an asshole, insisting on that whole "pecking order" thing and enforcing it with well-placed pecks to the heads of the other chickens. The other chickens were magnanimous enough to let her into their coop though. Or maybe they were bullied into it.

The chickens don't know it, and wouldn't care if they did, but all of a sudden it's Thursday. Jeanine and Eva are at a Weezer concert tonight. Eva has a short list of bands she needs to see before they die, and for some reason Weezer is on it. Jeanine's list is even shorter, consisting solely of BB King, who is almost certainly closer to death than the surviving members of Weezer. My list, if I was to sit down and think about it, is probably both burdensome and unrealistic. I'll continue to attend shows when and where opportunity takes me. Not tonight though. Tonight I'm going to work.

Chicken Mystery

Dot the chicken is mystifying the vet. She doesn't have a case of Bumblefoot, but so far, the cause of her swollen feet has proven elusive. Jeanine ran across somebody on an online chicken forum who had the same thing happen to her chicken, and it eventually went away, so whatever it is, it doesn't appear to be life-threatening.

It's Wednesday night at work as I type these words. The kids came back from their night hikes and went to bed, leaving the night to the crickets and other more furtive nocturnal creatures. I set up my stealth cam again, although given my luck so far this school year, it will probably prove to have been in vain.

Fewer Kids

There are only 68 kids at camp this week, and Monday night was full of the usual "settling in" pains. In other words, some kids pushed the envelope a bit to see if I was serious about the rules and a large number of girls had trouble adjusting to sleeping away from home.

After awhile, things calmed down and the animals ventured out to play.

Deer:

Skunk:

Empty cabin:

The place really does seem deserted.

Weak End

Sometimes weekends come and go without much of anything happening. On one hand, it's nice to have lazy days, but on the other hand, it's nice to finish the weekend with a sense of accomplishment. Sure, I put together the new lawn mower and mowed the lawn, and I took Willow out to unsuccessfully look for a Halloween costume, but none of us did anything especially noteworthy. Jeanine, as usual, spent most of the weekend working. Eva went out to a concert on Friday night. Willow parked herself in front of the TV when we weren't out and about. I try to get her interested in doing active things, but usually this requires me not giving her a choice. Her default setting is inactivity, which is funny, because she willingly joined the cross-country team at school. She is always involved in some sort of sport, whether it be soccer, softball, or running, but at home she just wants to unwind in front of a screen. It's probably at least partially my fault, because I do the same thing (in fact I'm doing it right now) with my laptop.

And what does Willow want for Christmas? A laptop.

Out in the yard, the doves brave the threat of hawks and continue to hang around. One of the chickens may have a case of Bumblefoot.

Tonight marks the start of my third week back at work for the season. There are only supposed to be 75 kids though, so the place will feel half empty. Whether or not that will make a difference in my workload remains to be seen. It all depends on the kids.

Finally, here's an interesting article that points to a link between California's drought and climate change. Right now, the sky out my window is blue, with no rain in the immediate forecast.

Falling Liquid, Falling Solids

My second week of work this school year has come and gone. The kids were great, but some of them leaked. I had to clean up vomit three times. None of these were as bad as the poop incident. A boy came back from the night hike and managed to make it within five feet of the toilet before disaster struck. I see this a lot: Kids tend to hold things in past the point of no return, and then make a mad dash for the nearest toilet. What often happens is the minute the stall door closes, a small, localized explosion occurs. In this particular case, absolutely none of it actually made it into the toilet. The boy, along with his poopy clothes and poopy self, didn't want to come out, but eventually he was coaxed into the shower by a helpful teacher, leaving behind more poop than I would have thought a small child could contain. Needless to say, lots of cleaning and washing needed to happen. Another kid had a similar problem, but his cabin leader handled it by bagging up his clothes and making him shower. At least this second disaster was contained by pants.

You'd think that fifth graders would be able to make it to the bathroom in time. Thankfully, most of them do. It's the exceptions we remember though. This is the downside of my job. It sometimes seems that the fifth graders of today are like the toddlers of yesteryear. The increasing infantilization of America is an interesting yet worrying phenomenon. A lot of the skills of yesteryear seem to be being acquired later in life, if at all. You'd think that being able to get to the toilet in time would be one of the skills considered mandatory after the age of 3 or 4, but you'd be wrong.

Later that night, it rained, and it was beautiful. The sound and smell of rain more than made up for all of the frantic cleaning earlier in the evening.

Happy Autumn Equinox

Each year, the temporal distance between the solstices and the equinoxes seems shorter, although I guess we're all halfway to somewhere. As I type these words, we're halfway to the Winter Solstice. I'm afraid to blink. If I do that, my eyes will open on the Winter Solstice and the final ashes of the year will whirl away on the winter wind. That is assuming that there will be wind. While I'm assuming things, I guess I'll go the distance and assume some actual rain into being as well.

Happy Autumn Equinox. The day started off a bit foggy, but it didn't last. Outside, doves and chickens mingle in the dirt under a blue sky. The squirrels have been decimating our avocados too. Here's some photos from yesterday.

At work last night, a couple of kids did some regurgitating in the darkness, meaning I earned my pay. Before this, a skunk wandered past the Hub, making a circuit of the cabins. Fearing that some sleepy kid would wander out and trip on him, I herded him away from the buildings. He let me get within about five feet before turning and waddling off.

Here are a pair of bad phone photos.

Hawk

Right after I finished the previous post, there was a ruckus in the backyard, with lots of dashing around and clucking. Jeanine exclaimed "hawk!", and we dashed outside to discover a seemingly empty yard. There was a disappointed looking Cooper's Hawk on the roof next door. It flew off after we spotted it.

It took us awhile to find the chickens. They'd all dashed for cover. We were a bit concerned about Henrietta, because she's the lightest, which makes her the most likely to be singled out by airborne predators. Thankfully, she'd squeezed under one of the Bougainvillea plants, which has thorns long enough to deter even the most determined hunter.

Hopefully, nothing bigger will discover our yard. I imagine that, as long as we have a buffer zone of doves, the chickens are pretty safe. They definitely know when to dash for cover too.

Walking

I've been involved in the "Walk to Mordor" challenge for awhile now. In fact, I can't remember when I started. The challenge is simply to walk the distance walked by Frodo and Sam in Lord of the Rings. It's a long way. 1779 miles, to be exact. To date, I've walked 1162 of those miles, with 617 left to go. My goal this year was to complete the challenge before December 31st, but slightly over 3 months of the year left, that no longer looks very realistic. I started off strongly, walking 100 miles in January. Unfortunately, I slacked off after that, especially over the summer. I hate walking long distances in the heat. Case in point, I only walked 12 miles in August (although, to be fair, I didn't log any of the walking I did at Lava Beds). As of this writing, I've walked 19 miles in September, which isn't a lot, but it's better than nothing. I walked nearly 8 of those miles this weekend though. Nothing like making up for lost time.

It's cloudy out today, and there is a bit of a bite to the air at night. There's also a good chance that it might rain later in the week. That would be nice.

One Down

This morning, there was a sad little pile of feathers in the back yard. I guess the hawk came back when nobody was looking. We are no longer graced with an even number of doves.

Currently listening to: Sol Invictus "See the Dove Fall"

Wildlife Notes

One of the chickens just ran like a crazy bird past the window, and Eva just reported seeing a hawk over in the neighbor's yard. That explains the running chicken. I looked out back in time to see the hawk flying away, but not in time to get a good enough look to identify it. I'm guessing Cooper's Hawk. Eva said she saw chasing the Mourning Doves that congregate in our yard so they can eat the chicken food. We're becoming quite popular with the local doves. Jeanine has seen 22 of them in the yard at once. My top count is still only around 12 though. I think I need to get up earlier in order to see real numbers. After all, the early bird catches the... chicken feed.

Speaking of wildlife, last night on the way to work, I saw three young coyotes. As coyotes almost always do, they vanished like furry ninjas seconds before I could point a camera lens in their direction. The moment is captured in my mind though, so I'm sharing it with words rather than photos. I love seeing coyotes.

Rain, Sort Of

For most of the night at work, water drifted down from the sky. Most of the time, it was more of a heavy mist than a proper rain, but it was better than nothing. Unfortunately, this strange phenomenon of descending moisture seemed confined to the hilly regions, because the ground was still bone dry at home.

Smoking Weed

It looks like the town of Weed has been hit by a wildfire. We drove through Weed on our way to (and from) Lava Beds last month. At the time, visibility was poor because of smoke from other fires, Mt. Shasta had less snow on it than I've ever seen before, and an atmosphere of apocalypse hung in the air. Despite what one might think due to the irreverence of the title I've saddled this post with (because I couldn't resist), my heart goes out to the people who have suffered through this fire and others around the state.

Phones and Fog

I've finally given in. I've become one of those people who takes pictures with his phone. I've always resisted new technology, mostly because new technology comes with hidden risks (for example, look at how many people get killed by cars), but also each new invention becomes a new crutch - something that all of a sudden nobody can live without. I don't want those kinds of chains on me.

I only have a cell phone at all because they keep being given to me. A while back, Jeanine, tired of never being able to get hold of me due to the nearly inoperable state of my old phone, got me an iPhone. So, I now sometimes take a picture or two with it, but only when I don't have an actual camera with me. Now that I generally use bigger (and slightly less portable) cameras, if a particular moment or thing catches my eye, the phone comes out. Damn. I've been sucked in.

This is a weird lead-in to a picture of the rays of the morning sun spearing through the dissipating mist, but sometimes life can be that way. I really love those fog-enshrouded mornings. Most of the time, I want the fog to stick around for the whole day. Sadly, that rarely happens.

First Night Back

My first night back as night supervisor started out busy, with homesick 5th graders filling the hub. One of them managed to do a pretty good job of filling the sheet of the hub's bunk bed with snot, not to mention the kid who filled the floor with vomit, and the kid who filled his jammies with pee (ironically enough, he wasn't one of the three potential bed-wetters I had been asked to wake up in the middle of the night). Thankfully, a teacher volunteered to clean the vomit while I continued to help the cluster of homesick kids and Papa Bear, who is my friend and coworker, but this week is volunteering as a cabin leader, dealt with the pee. That just left the homesick kids, who were mostly easy to cheer up. One girl said that the smell of strong mint calmed her down, but the mints one of the teachers had didn't do the trick. I was about to take my flashlight down to the garden so I could gather some actual mint leaves when I remembered that I had a tin of Altoids in the car. Those did the trick, although she came back for more at least once. Maybe she was just swindling me out of my Altoids, but I'm trying to cut down on my sugar intake anyway, so I was glad to give them up.

Once things settled down, I uploaded some photos, read a bit of Alastair Reynolds' "Pushing Ice", listened to the beautiful new Disemballerina release, "Undertaker", while walking my habitual two miles around camp, and watched Park Chan-Wook's Stoker. An evening of excellent entertainment.

Unlike last night, tonight I'll remember to put a memory card in my trailcam. I'd love to get some nocturnal photos of something besides deer and raccoons.

The lights in the parking lot have been fixed, which means that it's harder to stargaze out front. The visibility is nothing like it was up at Lava Beds, but it's still much better than it is at home.

There are wildfires burning in the state right now. It reminded me of the smokey sunsets at Lava Beds. Here's a sunset view of Schonchin Butte, with attendant smoke.

Currently listening to Orion Rigel Dommisse "Omicron"

Ice Caves

It's hard to get an idea of the massive scale of the entrance to Skull Cave, but the person in the foreground of this photo almost does the trick. At the back of the cave, there are a series of metal ladders and walkways leading steeply down to an ice covered floor. At least it used to be an ice covered floor. There is still a bit of ice there, but over the years it has greatly diminished. It's still refreshingly chilly down there in the dark, and it felt nice to get away from the hot day above. We visited two other caves that were supposed to have ice. Merrill Cave had a tiny bit, and was cold enough that as we descended, it was hard to hold onto the railings for too long, but Heppe Cave just had a pool of water.

While my mind still dwells on Summer, here in the present it is time to go back to work. Tonight is my first night back in my role as night supervisor at camp since... March? February? I can't remember, to tell the truth. I spent most of the late Winter and all of Spring as a field instructor, so it has been awhile. In a way, I'm looking forward to it. It's nice to be up at night while most of this half of the world sleeps.

Making Use of Available Resources

Imagine making a house out of your own waste, and then passing it on to your descendents. This picture is a Pack Rat midden, made entirely out of their own dung, and probably cemented together with a substance called amberat (the internet reveals that at least one person thought amberat might be helpful as a skin care product - now that's funny!). The ranger who pointed this interesting homestead stated that some of the dung used in its construction was probably decades old. Given their tiny legs and lack of motorized transport, Pack Rats generally only use nearby resources (shop locally!), and in caves, there isn't much nearby except stone, dirt, and whatever your behind leaves behind.

Human waste isn't allowed though, as this sign indicates:

Schonchin Butte

This is the shadow of Schonchin Butte, taken from somewhere along the trail as we descended. I can cross "climbing a volcano" off of my bucket list now. So what if it hasn't erupted in more than 30,000 years?

At the very top of the butte is this fire lookout, first staffed in 1941. It's still an active lookout, but isn't staffed 24 hours a day. We got there right after the lookout's shift was over, and belatedly realized that the guy we'd seen descending as we sweated upward was the lookout, looking glad to be off work.

Inside the lookout was a little bed, and some stuffed animals. I imagined them being used to comfort a lost kid. I'd love to spend a night up there. The skyscape must be amazing, and a moonrise or moonset would be similarly spectacular.

Lava Beds

We're well into September already, but for me, it still feels like Summer. The sky is a vivid blue, with a forecast high of 75 degrees today. I should be back working nights this week, but I ended up taking the week off due to a couple of musical events I wanted to attend. I really only required the first two nights of the week off, but by taking the whole week off (with pay), I enabled one of my coworkers to get some extra work.

The trip up to Lava Beds National Monument went off without a hitch. The Lava Beds lie in the seldom-visited northeastern corner of the state, right on the border with Oregon. It's high desert and chaparral up there, and the parched desolation speaks to me in some deep way. I'm not a fan of heat, but I've always enjoyed desolate landscapes, and Lava Beds allows me to spend time in the desolation and escape the heat by spelunking through ancient lava tube caves. Truly the best of both worlds. I even got slapped in the face by a Townsend's Big Eared Bat, which was kind of exciting. This happened somewhere inside Juniper Cave, after we'd left the ranger-led tour through Hercules Leg cave. Inside Hercules Leg, the ranger pointed out a Pack Rat midden made entirely out of rat droppings. A veritable mansion of crap.

My companions for this particular trip were my friend/coworker Jellyfish and his girlfriend, Lucia. We camped next to the campsite from my last visit in 2011 with Jeanine, Willow, and Eva. As always, given the distance and isolation of the spot, the Milky Way was smeared across the night sky, and I even finally saw the Andromeda galaxy - a faint smudge best seen out of the corner of the eye. We saw more bats than I remember from last time, plus a Jackrabbit who was fearless enough to wander right into the campsite. There were more Ravens than I remember too, and their local dialect resembled yelling children. There were no unusual animal sightings though - no antelope, Solpugids, or Kangaroo Rats like last time. We did explore a few caves I hadn't visited before though, and we climbed to the top of Schonchin Butte, something that the girls would have balked at last time, if we'd even bothered to suggest it. We hung out on the deck of the fire lookout building for awhile. The view was spectacular, and would have been even more so if it weren't for the haze.

The sky was hazy with the smoke of fires burning elsewhere in the state, making the sunsets fun. Temperatures were mostly in the eighties, although it seemed much hotter when we journeyed out to Petroglyph Point.

Learning from my last visit, I made sure I brought a camp stove this time, so we could have warm meals and I could have coffee. It made a big difference.

Near the end of our time there, we went on an evening walk and discovered some "undeveloped" caves. The main caves at the park have their entrances blasted open and have either ladders or stone steps for easy access. There are a great number of other caves out in the back country though, and on our short walk, we managed to find four or five of them. It was growing dark though, so we left them for another time.

Still on my to-do list is to make it to the back of Catacombs cave, which apparently involves spending around four hours underground. We didn't have the time or gear to make a go of it this time out.

Despite having been back for a couple of weeks, I haven't yet finished uploading all of the photos I took. I blame our inexplicably slow internet at home. Jellyfish, who dragged a tripod through all of the caves, will eventually getting around to posting his photos too. I look forward to seeing them, because I'm sure they'll be much better than mine.

Late Summer Already

What did I do with my week off? A little bit of this, and a little bit of that, I suppose. In between attending live music events and writing about them, I made a dentist appointment (it has been far too long), got ready for my upcoming trip to Lava Beds National Monument, and got a few minor things done around the house.

I rarely do as much as I plan to do. Instead, I spend too much time on the computer. After this post, I'm going to step away from here and go do something else. My dentist appointment is in a few hours, and tonight Greg is doing a performance up in Berkeley. I guess I do manage to keep relatively busy.

Here's a photo I took yesterday evening, as the sun filtered through the curtains over the kitchen sink. The smell of smoke was in the air, probably due to the plume of smoke visible to the north earlier in the day.

Summer Ends, At Least In Spirit

The final week of summer camp is always a bit sad, with people standing around in confusion, wondering where the summer has gone. Now that it's over, I've seen at least a couple of people on Facebook already starting the countdown until next summer. Ha. As for me, it was a pretty easy week. I had a younger group than I usually do, but along with the 21 3rd graders there came 7 counselors, which is 3 more than I think I've ever had before. Alex and Nathan were both up at camp as counselors too, and Willow, Jeanine, and Eva all made it up for the final campfire program of the season.

I led my usual activities in the afternoons. 35 kids followed me down to the pond, and around 15 of them followed me into the pond. Since they County Park people are slowly draining the water out so they can make repairs, it was shallow enough for the kids to get to parts of the pond that were once too deep for them to wade in. Two counselors even came in, which is something counselors rarely do. It's often hard to get teenage girls to do things like that, but these two did it with smiles on their faces. On the last critter hunt of the season, around 30 kids ended up going. We didn't find any snakes (the snakes have been keeping a low profile this summer, and I only saw one the whole week - it escaped into a thorn bush and when I grabbed for it, and I ended up with around a half inch of thorn in my palm instead of a snake), but we did find a Northern Alligator Lizard and some good invertebrates, including a freshly molted Calisoga Spider, a Praying Mantis, a Forest Scorpion, and a Jerusalem Cricket.

On Thursday, in the middle of the campfire program, I got a haircut. Early in the week, I'd challenged my group to achieve a blackout on the nature bingo game we were playing, telling them that if they succeeded, I'd cut off my ponytail and donate it to Locks of Love. The succeeded, and one of the kids came up with an idea for a barber shop skit, to be performed during the campfire. We went with it. They had trouble cutting through my ponytail with the trimmers I'd provided, so scissors were retrieved to finish the job. Below are some before and after photos. At least two people (one of them was Willow) got the event on video as well. Yes, it looks like my hair was cut by an eight year old. I'm not sure if I'll finish the job properly or just leave it the way it is. One counselor said I looked like Brad Pitt, and another said I looked like Ned Stark (actually Sean Bean, I guess). They're too kind.

On Willow's last weekend before school started (her first day was today), we did some back-to-school shopping and went to San Francisco with Jeannine, Eva, and Eva's friend Alonzo. At the end of the day, on a whim, we drove west until we hit the beach. It was nice. There was even a raven on the sand, looking cold.

Yesterday, when it seemed like most people were back in school already, I took her and a friend to a movie. Now, the school year has truly begun. I still have nearly two weeks off before the green gears of science camp start turning. What to do? Some work and some play, or that's the plan, anyway.

Through the Dust and Heat of Summer, We Emerge Sweaty and Grimy

The inevitable summer slump has happened. It's funny how my summer camp weeks are often more mind-consuming than my science camp weeks. Then again, science camp is more of a set routine and summer camp encourages more of an "anything goes" mentality. Add to that the fact that for the past month, I've been part of the Trailblazers team. Trailblazers is a summer program that was offered for the first time last year. This year, it was expanded from three weeks to four. Last year, I think I worked one Trailblazers week, but this year I worked all four. Two kinds of kids get signed up for the program: Kids who are really into natural science and related subjects, or kids who couldn't get into our main summer camp program because it was full. It's always pretty easy to tell who is who too. That said, we had a great month of hiking and playing. Everything ran more smoothly this year, and it's pretty obvious we've left last year's growing pains in the dust, although we're constantly improving things. Counselors for the Trailblazers program are provided by yet another summer camp program, Leaders In Training. Leaders In Training are mostly 13 year old campers who are being trained to be counselors. Both of my stepdaughters, Sophie and Eva, came up on different weeks to take part in the program, and they both had a good time and learned things. Willow came up at the end of July for the regular camp and had a fun week too, although she elected to not camp overnight on Thursday (although, come to think of it, Eva opted out of the L.I.T. campout too).

The wildlife around camp has been in short supply. For some reason, I haven't been finding as many snakes this year. I did get a cool infrared motion-sensor trail camera though, and I've got a few pictures of nocturnal and crepuscular happenings. I'm looking forward to using it again next week when I'm back at camp for the final week of the season.

Three Films

I don't get to the movies as much as I used to. I don't even watch movies at home as much as I used to, and I've got a pretty big stack of dvds that I need to watch sometime soon. A number of factors are responsible, including the internet, life, music that needs listening to, and books that need reading. That said, I've seen a few films lately that I feel are worth noting.

Today, Jeanine and I went to go see Bong Joon Ho's new film, "Snowpiercer". Yes, it's another film set in a dystopian near-future - in this case an attempt to reverse climate change literally freezes the world - but I sure do love depictions of dystopia. Tilda Swinton's character is particularly bizarre, in a good way, of course. Check out the trailer here. Bong Joon Ho's "The Host" is also worth checking out.

"Cold In July", based on a novel by the marvelous Joe R. Lansdale, is an excellent film as well. More Lansdale adaptations are in the works, with "The Bottoms" on the horizon. It's about time. Trailer here. The film features Michael C. Hall of "Dexter" fame and a great, haunting score by Jeff Grace.

Finally, Jim Jarmusch's newest film, "Only Lovers Left Alive", nearly slipped by me. I'm glad that we managed to catch it because, not only was it a great film (with Tilda Swinton again - come to think of it, John Hurt is also in both films), but the soundtrack is absolutely amazing. Trailer here.

Also of recent note is an oddball short film by David Cronenberg, called "The Nest". Watch the whole thing here (warning, breasts).

Explosives, Encounters, and Changes

The constant, thundering assault of illegal fireworks explosions last night shook the ground enough to set off my car alarm a couple of times. The cat looked bothered, but never slipped into full panic mode. I was irritated because I had to put my book down to turn off the car alarm. Yeah, you can keep your holiday. It's just another opportunity for people to get drunk and make noise. I've never really gotten the concept of national pride. A lot of people who claim to be patriots have never done a damn thing to justify the claim, at least on a national scale, unless you count things like drinking American beer and buying American fireworks (although I think a lot of the big, illegal ones come from elsewhere). Be proud of the things you accomplish. I guess it's easier for some people to jump on the bandwagon of the whole touchy-feely group belongingness thing, especially if they've never done anything to warrant any feelings of personal pride.

Last night, I was grumpy enough about the explosions that I found myself wishing somebody would hold onto one just a bit too long. This morning, predictably, there was this news story. I didn't see any news about fires though. That's a good thing. I would have expected idiocy + drought to equal fires.

This all happened at the tail end of the third week of summer camp. The week went well, with a couple of my all time favorite campers attending (and being in my group). The water level in the pond has dipped some more, and the snakes were scarce. We saw a couple of rattlesnakes on Monday, but that was it. The chaparral area has been pretty much obliterated by heavy equipment. I'm not sure what the County Parks people have planned for it, but so far all they've done is kill a bunch of Coyote Brush and Scotch Broom. The Scotch Broom is invasive, so maybe they're trying to wipe out invasives. This has more or less wiped out one of the places we visit to find snakes, so I don't like it.

On our first afternoon critter hunt, one of the counselors had to answer a call of nature behind some of the remaining bushes in the chaparral, and in doing so dropped his keys. The next day, he went up to find them, and when he came back, he had a story. A pair of eyes was watching him up there. They belonged to a mother Mountain Lion who was in the process of carrying her cubs into the forest where it abuts the chaparral. My theory is she was disturbed by all of the noise the park rangers were making as they cleared out brush, and was heading deeper into the forest with her young. The drought seems to have enticed the larger wild animals closer to the water sources, although now that one of those is being drained, options become even more limited. What a thing to see while looking for your keys!

Here's a female Southern Alligator Lizard, being photographed by a camper in the upper chaparral area.

Next week, I shift gears and work for our Trailblazers camp, which has a narrower focus, delving more into natural history, ecology, and stewardship. It should be fun, although I'm not excited to have to get up earlier.

Draining

As I led a group of kids past the pond at work yesterday, I was surprised to see a couple of people hip-deep in the water (at exactly the same time that a kid toward the back of the line was surprised by a Garter snake). It always surprises me when somebody other than me gets in the pond. It turned out that they were employed by the County and were doing a pond survey to make sure that there were no species of concern living there. The plan is to drain the pond to do some repairs. This will also wipe out the various aquatic plants and animals. Most of the pond life is invasive (duckweed, bullfrogs, etc.), but lots of other creatures will be inadvertently eradicated, including California Newt larvae and countless insects. I think that next week I'll scoop some out and move them. I'm sure I'll be able to find some kids to help.

An now, a lament for the pond, played on the trombone:

Forked

This Fence Lizard wasn't born with a forked tail. At some point, a narrow escape or accident caused the tip of its tail to break halfway off, which caused the lizard's regenerative powers to kick into gear. The end result: bifurcation.

I caught this lizard last week. Today, a kid caught the same lizard. It doesn't learn from its mistakes.