The youtube page says, "investigates unique deserts, coral reefs, waterfalls and other atypical natural phenomena." How are these atypical? I don't quite get it. Do they mean "special"? At any rate, these are neat, within a basic educational film.
(This is part 32,208,498,408 or so in a series of videos that I try not to post more than once every couple of weeks, because they aren't mind-bendingly interesting, but seem to have some good information.
Of all the fire articles I've read in a long time, this one caught my interest differently than the others, and I read it with a fresher eye.
Ray Ford's article in the Santa Barbara Independent looks a little at the rugged residents and the rock-tough firefighters, but it also touches on the wind, the topology, the vegetation, and other things that drive a fierce wildfire in California's chapparal.
This is geography. It's not just about what burns, or why, but about how it all works together, and anyone who really wants to study fires, damage prevention, and effective fire-fighting in California probably knows all of this:
"Then without warning, the wind shifted, catching everyone by surprise. The shift was sudden and intense. Within a minute it switched from a 10-to-15MPH steady uphill breeze to 50MPH storm force winds heading directly down canyon."
And that, yesterday, is why the apparently mild-mannered Jesusita Fire went crazy, and is still out-of-control along Santa Barbara's northern flanks. The mandatory evacuation order includes areas just north and west of Santa Barbara's downtown. Flickr has plenty of pictures so far.
Google Maps has some LA Times coverage including where homes have burned, and links to stories.
I used to know someone who kept a stack of books -- KJV (which he'd read through, and studied), probably the Jerusalem Bible, books on Paganism, the Book of Mormon, Buddhist texts, all sorts of things -- in a stack on the table next to the front door. He was an obsessive reader of psychology and theology, and every time something caught his eye at a book sale, he'd bring it home, and devour it. When folks wanted to come in and talk religion, he could do that, and did, and would sit them down for an hour or more to discuss things they weren't always ready to discuss. He'd pick up his books and leaf through until he found a relevant passage, read it, and bring it into the conversation. The proselytizers never managed to convert him from basic agnosticism, but it passed the time for him, and he liked meeting new people.
If this Geohovah's Witness guy showed up at my door, I'd take him to my special geography table and show him my atlases, geography texts, books about water policy and fire control in chaparral and bird identification and food politics in developing nations and plate tectonics and biodiversity, and of course, offer him coffee and cookies and we'd chat.
I must sound like him sometimes. I can't drive down Mission Bl. through Hayward, in California, without pointing out the Hayward Fault scarp. I can't be along the marine terraces of Highway 1 without explaining how they were formed. I especially can't see serpentine soil (or serpentinite) without getting into a discussion about its formation and ecology.
Water towers in Alameda County -- the kinds that used to sit in back yards, and hold water pumped up from the ground with windmills, for the households -- fascinate me endlessly. Can I control my urge to tell people about them, if they don't already know? No, not really.
I am a geography evangelist. I think I must annoy my friends sometimes. They say they don't mind, but I wonder.
(This sounds like I don't get the point of the video. I do, it just got me musing.)
I stopped into Triple Rock brewpub in Berkeley, California tonight, for some of their Black Rock Porter (my all-time favorite beer) and what turned out to be the best hamburger I've ever had, anywhere. It wasn't a fancy burger at all, it just tasted perfect.
While I was there, a nice person turned to me and said, "Do you know anything about geography?" I cracked up and said, "You're kidding, right?" I'd already had a pint of beer, so wasn't thinking modestly or tactfully.
Then we spent a couple of hours doing his crossword (he wanted to know the largest country in Africa) and talking and drinking beer, and it was nice.
So *waves* to Elijah. Did I spell that right? I think so.
Swiped directly from Living Geography; "... teachers are, first and foremost, public intellectuals. They really do need to 'know' something worthwhile, relevant and enjoyable to teach. That is why teaching is a graduate profession. Teachers need to have learned something, and in a dynamic subject like geography they need to keep learning."
I've read so much about Lilly, and whether she's just parroting information, or really "knows" this stuff. What is knowing, when it comes to labels? Aren't we parroting, too? Does it matter, if she's learning to be fascinated by maps?
Harm de Blij, author of lots of geography-related books, including half the textbooks I've ever used, discusses why geographic literacy, and the study of geography, is essential:
I don't think I've seen such an ovation for short video clips before:
Look at the smiles on David Gallo's face, and in the audience. Listen to them gasp. Oh, amazing. I can't eat octopuses or cuttlefish, and I think I might be off squid now, too -- what amazing creatures these are.
I collect natural history, environmental, and geography books, almost compulsively. I look for used versions where I can (to save paper) but also appreciate that many of these books come out in runs of a few thousand copies, and aren't profit-makers for the publishing companies, so when they come out new, I buy them while they're new. If you like Geographile and want to let me know, please either comment on my posts, or visit my Powell's wishlist to feed my book collection. You might find books you like there, too.
I am a middle-aged geographilic student and writer. You can find me on Twitter as @geographile (mostly geographilic feed/retweets/info) and @mactavish (more personal, still science-oriented).