Snowing on blog ideas, or something

The internet is filling up with time-lapse snow photos from the east coast!



(Details on click through.)

I've got a whole list of geographile-seeds on my desktop here, and one hard post I'm working on, I want to explain the difference between climate and weather, and how climate change (or even global warming, gasp) could explain heavy-snow winters. I'm also working on the geography of the setting of one of my favorite book series, and exploring the relationship between HAARP and the Haiti quake - or the lack thereof.

What do you want to read about?

I love David Attenborough almost as much as I love sloths

snowpocalypse

The east coast of the United States is waking up to a world of snow today, after a record-breaking snowstorm.

A couple of people have posted a link to this image on twitter:



There have been no credits for it, nor precise locations, from what I can find. I'd love more information, both for credit and geographic specificity, if you know of any.

Sakurajima blowing ash

Sakurajima at Sunset
Originally uploaded by KimonBerlin.

This post will be dated eventually, but at least right this minute, I can see ash erupting heavily out of the summit of Sakurajima on the live webcam: link here, in English, more languages available with clicky things at top right.

Sakurajima is a composite volcano, and used to form an island in a caldera, but in the past century, eruptive growth has joined it to the mainland.

Big Brothers

Big Brothers
Originally uploaded by Michæl Paukner.

Busy day, without anything organized to write about. Thus, an image - but a neat one. :D

The Golden Gate Bridge from orbit

From Soichi Noguchi on the ISS.
(He says, "Nice shadow.")
Thanks to Marilyn Terrell for the pointer.

Manzanita mandala

Manzanita
Originally uploaded by robherr.

I've written before about how much I love manzanita.

I want to learn to discern the various California species, but Pete Veilleux over at East Bay Wilds, who really knows his local native stuff, says it's a difficult task.

Among my classes this term are a couple or three that focus on local natural history. That should help.

Martin pointed out this gorgeous circle of manzanita leaves from Rob Herr, at Flickr. (He granted me permission to use the photo, it's not in the creative commons realm.)

The leaves are so beautiful and special. They're sclerophyllic, tough and a little leathery, to survive the hot, dry summers of their western habitats. The leaves chemically change soil to make it harder for competing plants to grow. And the colors, oh: they start so delicately green, and toughen to a darker green, turn reddish, then before they're gone, it's as if they self-immolate, without flames, they just dry and blacken. (They sometimes fall off before this stage, too, but it's weird, like someone's lit them.)

Their angle on the plant maximizes sun exposure when the sun is less direct and drying, in the morning and late afternoon, but minimizes it at midday, conserving moisture.

I love manzanita. Later, I'll write about the fire ecology around it and chaparral, and its magical bark, and what I want to do with the wood.

Howard Zinn, RIP - and he will

Howard Zinn
Originally uploaded by teeping.

"We don't have to wait for some grand utopian future. The future is an infinite succession of presents, and to live now as we think human beings should live, in defiance of all that is bad around us, is itself a marvelous victory." -- Howard Zinn, August 24, 1922 – January 27, 2010

Howard Zinn was a great historian. I encountered him in high school, and if he did nothing else for me, he encouraged me not to take everything my textbooks said as the whole truth and end of the story, but to ask questions and think beyond curriculum. I've applied that to most of what I've read in academia and the media in the decades since.

*knockknock*

checking the weather
Originally uploaded by dave~.

Lately I've been wanting to know more about who's reading Geographile, and why.
I don't get a lot of comments, nor do I troll for them. I'd like to make the blog a little more interactive, but I avoid all those "get more comments" web pages and similar, I'm mostly here for myself. But I know there are readers.

I don't use site metrics. I don't beg for comments. So how do I find out who's here?

I must not have had my creativity hat on, because when I saw this Coyote Crossing post, it was so obvious.

Chris said:

If you’ve been reading Coyote Crossing for a while and never said anything, or even i this is the first time you’ve been here, consider this your formal invitation to introduce yourself, say hello, offer advice or complaints, or just generally mark a little bit of territory.

Go ahead and substitute Geographile for Coyote Crossing, except, in the marking territory category, I must say: Please don't pee on my blog. Thank you.

And while you're at it, check out Coyote Crossing, too. It's insightful, full of good information, and just plain interesting.

ferocious weather

Well - not really ferocious. We just so rarely get tornados, that when we do, it's a bit startling.



Our tornados in California are almost never as high as 2 on the Fujita scale, and are usually 0 or 1. This one touched down, but well away from where it could do damage.

I keep thinking, "Now I'm going to write about this wacky week of weather," but then we keep having more days of it, and I think, "As soon as it's done ..." Rain is in the forecast, but it looks like the wildness is calming down. Perhaps it's time.

Haiti - hoping for recovery, in context

Peacekeeping - MINUSTAH
Originally uploaded by UNDP Global.

When I was little, one of my favorite books was The Stone*. I don't remember the details of it, I just remember the imagery, learning about Heart of Palm, and children's relationships with elders, and the life of a boy in what seemed to me a poor, but idyllic, countryside.

Mind you, it was set back when Haiti still had trees, but still: Life there was anything but as idyllic as the book showed, even then.

The misery wasn't shared in a children's novel, of course. The book made me want to live in Haiti one day. I became interested in French, and more than that in Creole. I imagined wandering jungles and listening to birds sing.



I only recently realized how much that book became most of my rose-colored knowledge about Haiti.

In adulthood, I've known that people thought it worthwhile to float hundreds of miles across open water in rafts to escape Haiti. I've known about Papa Doc and Baby Doc being horrible, fearsome dictators, and that the US somehow propped them up, but without detail.

I've known that Port-au-Prince was desperately crowded and poor,



that slums in Haiti and many towns have open gutters running down the middle of the road to carry raw sewage, and that children there were desperately hungry.



But I realize now with some shame that I had no idea of what the history was really like, Haiti's ancient legacy of debt, and how, between historically oppressive France, and the callous policies of the US, and what seems to be like near-disdain from the IMF, Haiti hasn't been able to get a break at all.

Add onto that its recent hurricanes, its overpopulation and environmental exploitation leading to deforestation and mud sliding, and now, the unlocking of a 200-year-old fault bringing shoddily-built Port-au-Prince to its knees in a pile of concrete dust and bodies, and I wonder how - or whether - they'll recover from their current situation.

My friend Meredith posted a link to a story with a brief history of Haiti, by Alex von Tunzelmann, from the London Sunday Times, May 17, 2009.

Just why is Haiti in such a dire situation, so much worse than any other country in the Americas, and as bad as anywhere on Earth? Some blame the United Nations. Some blame the Americans. Some have theories about the collision of global warming with global capitalism. All are careful to point out that the Haitian elite deserves its reputation for being greedy, negligent and kleptocratic. "I think the Haitian people have been made to suffer by God," Wilbert, a teacher, tells me, “but the time will come soon when we will be rewarded with Heaven."

There's a full summary of Haitian history at that link. Please click through and read it when you have a minute. In Wilbert's words, I hear Pat Robertson giggling. Pathetic slime rat.

I know Haiti needs help now more than ever before (except, perhaps, when they were trying to get out from under the French initially - what might be different now?) but I have no idea what we need to do. I'd start by saying that the US and other countries need to seriously consider more refugee status for Haitians. We need to help within the country more, but they've been a black hole for charity dollars in the past, with their kleptocracy and corruption. Doctors Without Borders, Oxfam, the smaller organizations are doing what they can with non-financial help, but in that system, how much can they do?

I'm overwhelmed at the thought. "How to fix it" is not my area of expertise, or they'd have called me long ago. Does anyone really know?

One thing I'm sure of: Knowledge is power. Learning about the history of countries like Haiti (and Iraq, and Israel/Palestine, and Laos, and Bolivia, and even the US) correctly, unsanitized, places current problems in context, so that solutions can be built from a base of fact and strength, rather than on a pile of rubble. We need to make sure other people see and read that story, and others like it.

*Searching now, I can't find The Stone. I don't remember who wrote it. It was about a boy named, I think, Peter or Pierre, and I think he lived with his grandmother, and loggers were cutting the palms, killing them, killing their hearts - so heart of palm, which was loved and precious, could not be harvested.

Images from kafesukre, Tom Haskell - WFP,
UNDP Global, Haley MaeUN

Port au Prince from the hills above it, today

How terrifying to see from above ... but far worse from the streets below.

sfgate.com has a great list of organizations who need your help so that they can help the people of Haiti. It looks like Doctors Without Borders lost their surgical facilities - and Haiti needs them right now. They're on the list. UNICEF needs you, too, as does the Red Cross.

Haiti is already the most impoverished nation in the western hemisphere, and hasn't yet recovered from last year's hurricanes, let alone the decades of political upheaval and violence. There's only so much we can do ... but that's better than nothing.

One year in two minutes

Eirik Solheim compressed a year into 120 seconds of video, to share the seasonal changes he observes from his balcony.



There is a point at which I think I can see the trees grow.

He explains his process in his blog, so you can do it to. Let me know when you're done, so I can post it here.

Arctostaphylos is love

Finished Back Piece
Originally uploaded by savor_soaps.

I've been going to get a tattoo for ages, and I've only wanted Marie Wadman at Diving Swallow to do it. She's expensive, but VERY GOOD and sympatico with what I want.

I'd been planning on Douglas irises and/or California poppies, two of my favorite wildflowers. But I'm also in love with manzanita. One of my goals this year is to learn to discern each species of manzanita in the greater bay area.

I want California native plants because this is home, where my parents grew up, and I grew up, and my Mom was born, and Grandpa was born, and his parents were born ... back to the 1850s. And we're not beach people or mountain people, we're coastal hills people and sagebrush people and foothills people. My bones are partially made of manzanita wood, I think.

Eventually, my only wishlist item will be a link to a jar where folks can throw pennies at a tattoo fund. Then, when it's full, I'll contact Marie as per her instructions (ping her in fall, she'll get back to you later as she fills up her entire coming year's calendar) and plan my first tattoo.

(Here's the whole manzanita tattoo set from savor_soaps on flickr. I love this.)

Frozen Earth

A walk around Higham, Derbyshire, UK, by Grace Elliot. I assume this video was made just this week, during the Big Freeze. (It was uploaded yesterday.)



This makes me want to explore parts of my world more like this - not in video, but images ... lots of them. It feels more like stopping to look.

Google maps has a satellite view clear enough for you to follow her around, if you want a little fun.

Or maybe they're going to Oregon because it's what Californians do

Curious Sea Lion
Originally uploaded by Dave Schumaker.

I like to write Geographile posts that, if not brief, are either heartfelt and eloquent, or well-researched. Brief ones can be neither. However, this one also is neither. It is ranty and annoyed.

I'm recovering from the flu, and what I want to do, really, is to go play flash games and have a beer, or maybe have another Sudafed (the real stuff) and go to bed.

But instead, there was this earthquake today, which was exciting. And besides all the Jesus Is Coming and similar posts on twitter, the bad science started coming out.

See, last October, the ubiquitous, numerous, smelly, but cute California sea lions at Pier 39 in San Francisco started leaving the area. Then more left, and soon, people were wondering what had become of our sea lions, which aren't historically massed there, but have been as of the past few years.

Within the past couple of weeks, they were found, up with the Steller sea lions and other marine mammals along the Oregon Coast, and at Sea Lion Caves, perhaps due to shifting temperatures, those perhaps due to our currently strengthening El Niño pattern, because that's where their food went. (Yes, there's still a lot of "perhaps," but this was a puzzle until recently, and is coming together.)
.
And of course, because it seemed "suddenly," folks on Twitter are saying, "They knew the quake was coming." (At least one of these twitterers might even be from the bay area or elsewhere in earthquake country, or perhaps sea lion country. Or not.)

But this is not sudden, and there are explanations:

1) The sea lions started leaving in October.
2) Recent, pre-today research suggests that their being found in SW Oregon reflects temperature changes in the ocean off the coasts of California and Oregon, and the food the sea lions prefer is following the temperatures they like. The sea lions are following fish. (Some aren't. Some seem to be hanging out at the Farralons for squid. But many went to the waters off the coast of SW Oregon for fish.)



Now here's the thing:

According to Google maps, from Florence, Oregon, where Sea Lion Caves is, to Ferndale, California, the nearest town to today's quake epicenter, is 285 miles. From San Francisco to Ferndale is 262 miles, by straighter roads. So let's call the quake area halfway in between there. (Yes, I know the sea lions don't drive. But I'm ballparking things here.)

Why would marine mammals leave in October (and later, but still) to swim through where a quake is coming, and end up just as far on the other side ... because they knew a quake was coming?



It's not like I expect sea lions to have logic, but c'mon: Why? Why not go, oh, to Santa Barbara, the other direction? Why go to all that effort to end up the same distance from the quake anyhow?

And why leave San Francisco when today's quake was barely felt at all there? It wouldn't gain them any advantage.



Folks are saying, "Animals do strange things." Sure. Sometimes they do. But if you're going to make a wacky connection, at least come up with a good enough story to support it.

Dear people who were kind enough to discuss this with me on twitter today:
I don't mean to be totally dissing you. I am open-minded about, say, that there are aspects of quakes that animals can sense but we don't, and there are noises they can hear that we can't. But look: The idea that sea lions would leave the San Francisco area for Oregon, passing through an area where a quake is going to happen weeks in the future, to end up the same distance on the other side, when there's no good reason for sea lions to care, makes no sense on any level, not even if I were to open my mind so far my brain falls right out.

Arctostaphylos pajaroensis 'Warren Roberts' - Warren Roberts Pajaro Manzanita

Arctostaphylos pajaroensis 'Warren Roberts' - Warren Roberts Pajaro Manzanita
Originally uploaded by pete@eastbaywilds.com.

One of my goals this year is to learn to discern every single manzanita species within a couple of hours of my house. They're different, they fit different niches. They're mostly sclerophylls, and healthiest with wildfire every couple of decades. They control the chemistry underneath them for their own best health. They have the most beautiful wood, and the most fairy-like little flowers, and I am in love with them. They are one of the plants that screams "California" to me, the California I grew up with and love.

For Northern Hemisphere Solstice, from George Harrison

early geography

rainCIMG8739
Originally uploaded by marymactavish.

When I was at my youngest, the scale of the world, and what went on over the earth, never occurred to me. I fell asleep on long car trips, so I thought we lived relatively near the bay area, as I always woke up as we crossed the Carquinez Strait. I actually remember many of the various stages of geographic awareness I passed.

When we got air conditioning in our car, and didn't have to drive down the valley at 2 am in the roasting summertime, I learned how far away we were from the bay area, as I was awake for the ride.

And Robert Louis Stephenson taught me to think about what was going on elsewhere, in terms of shared experience. Steady, cold rain like today's reminds me of his poem, "Rain." It's so simple:

THE RAIN is raining all around,
It falls on field and tree,
It rains on the umbrellas here,
And on the ships at sea.

Oddly, re-reading that, I notice that I remembered it differently. Until now, I remembered, "It rains on houses in Japan/And on the ships at sea." I wonder why. Was I looking at pictures or reading books about Japan, then? About houses or umbrellas in Japan?

Hm.

This sort of thing, though, colored my geographic learning, and I think it's valuable in any child's learning, to have literature that isn't all about morals and lessons, but also about images, and places, and shared experience, and how things were different back then, and about how we're not the only people in the world, and our experience is not the only experience, and that there are things we will all share, and that there are things that we might never relate to.

The Universe, and the Tibetan Plateau

P1010283
Originally uploaded by yingzhao.

This new video from the American Museum of Natural History is making the rounds. It's a stunning digital visualization of the known universe with proper sizes, distances, scales. I'm not sure exactly how they increase speed of change. It definitely changes, as it takes a few seconds to travel a few light seconds, then not long after, a few seconds to travel many light years, or a few million light years. It had to be thus, but I did lose a sense of scale eventually, even with the incredible illustrations.

I had no idea, for instance, how much completely unmapped space there is. Why is that? I can see it being hard to map past the center of the Milky Way, but couldn't tell in which directions we're yet unmapped, and why -- could be be that hard to map in the opposite direction from the center? Are the stars densely packed that direction, for far enough to make it opaque for us?



Of the whole video, though, my favorite part was tipping past the Himalaya to see the lakes of the Tibetan Plateau. I had no idea how lake-rich the area is. I knew that it was sparsely populated, that big quakes there can go almost unreported except by instruments, that there are thousands of square miles with no roads. But the lakes just caught my attention: Look at all this gorgeous water. What's it like there? Who lives there? What do they do?

It turns out google and flickr both had answers for me.