Reflections on the Faroes

As we prepare to return to the U.S., it is appropriate to reflect on our visit to the Faroe Islands.  Though we expected a small capital city, loosely connected to coastal fishing villages, we found a vibrant economy with air connections to a number of European cities (including winter flights to the Mediterranean).  Long dependent on ferries for regional transportation, the larger islands are now connected via sub-sea tunnels and travel is very efficient throughout the Faroes.  Cell and Wifi service are widely available, even in some of the smallest towns.

Ignited by whaling in the early 20th Century, the national economy now depends primarily on fishing, salmon farming and sheep ranching, though tourism has increased significantly.  Indeed, nordic cruise lines regularly stop in Torshavn, the capital city, which sits along a natural harbor and offers an excellent variety of amenities; its old town neighborhood, art museum and cultural center were especially appealing.

Fortunately, our tour guide grew up in the Faroes and has an intimate knowledge of the landscape; it seemed she knows most of its inhabitants as well.  Without her expert guidance, our visit would have been far less productive and enjoyable. Our thanks for her enthusiastic introduction to these beautiful islands. 

The Erosive Force of Water

Beyond their stark beauty, the Faroe Islands demonstrate the erosive force of flowing water.  Since rifting from Greenland, 55 million years ago, this volcanic terrane has been molded by glacial ice, torrential rain, pounding waves, strong currents and numerous streams.  Due to their northern latitude, freeze-thaw cycles have also played a significant role in sculpting the islands.

Of course, most of this erosive activity persists today and is readily evident to the visitor.  Landslide scars are observed, frequent rain drenches the highlands, currents alter the course of boat transportation and powerful waves lash the rocky headlands.  Sheep and hares, both introduced by humans, are the only mammals that inhabit the steep, grass-covered slopes and countless waterfalls adorn the ridges.

This is a country of rock and water.  Though man has managed to settle along its coasts and fjords, water will eventually erode these scenic islands into the sea. 

Traditions in the Faroe Islands

Heading out this morning, we encountered a funeral procession on a city street.  We learned that the family walks behind the hearse as the body is moved from the hospital to the church and that it is a national tradition for passersby to stop their vehicle and get out to honor the dead.  It proved to be a moving experience.

Soon thereafter, we learned that August is "fulmar season" in the country.  During this time, boaters go out to scoop up chubby fulmar chicks from the sea surface, using nets at the end of long poles.  The chicks, having dropped from nearby cliffs, are unable to fly for a week or so and are thus easily collected for their tasty flesh.

Nearing the end of the day, we visited a whaling museum where the history of that industry was reviewed and where the rusting equipment was displayed; the Faroe Islands have not been hunting large whales since the early 1980s.  Nevertheless, pilot whales are still hunted and that non-commercial practice was defended as a long-standing tradition in the Faroes.  I suppose the appropriateness of traditions lies in the eye of the beholder. 

Hiking the North Coast

When one hikes in the Faroe Islands, they are generally not following a trail.  Rather, they are walking on uneven, meandering paths of mud, rocks and compressed grass.  Today, on a popular hike above the north shore of "Flute Island," a steep climb was followed by braided routes, leading to the North Coast lighthouse.

While the hike was strenuous and slow-going, rest stops at boulders or crumbling out-buildings (photo) offered a broad view of the North Atlantic.  Clouds of seabirds (Arctic terns, kittiwakes, storm petrels, fulmars and others), circled overhead while sheep grazed on the rocky, windswept grasslands.

The hike offered everything that the Faroe Islands are known for: expansive views, stark beauty, a wealth of seabirds and the clash of rock and sea.  One exception to our expectations were the crowds, drawn to this well-known trail despite the chilly, windy conditions. 

The Faroe Islands

 In Why Should I Cry, one of my favorite songs by Sting, he refers to the "stones of Faroe."  For many years, I thought that his reference was mystical, having something to do with a pharaoh.  Then I learned about the Faroe Islands.

The latter are an archipelago of 18 volcanic islands in the North Atlantic, known to naturalists for their marine bird populations; they formed about 55 MYA, along the North Atlantic Rift.  First settled by Nordic explorers as early as the 4th Century AD, the Faroes became a territory of Norway in the 11th Century and joined the Kingdom of Denmark in the early 1800s.  The local culture and language remain distinct from the mainland.

Today we flew from Copenhagen to the Faroe Islands (a 1.75 hour flight), where we will spend the next week; the landscape of grass-covered ridges, numerous waterfalls and intervening fjords reminds us of Iceland and Northern Scotland.  More on these isolated, scenic islands in the coming days. 

Visiting Roskilde

Roskilde, Denmark, WSW of Copenhagen, was the original Capital of the country.  Long before that, it was a Viking settlement.

Today, Roskilde is renowned for its large cathedral, the burial site of Denmark's kings and queens, and for its Viking Museum, which houses the remnants of five Viking ships, dating back to the late 11th Century.  These ships were first located in the Roskilde Fjord in 1962 and are still being pieced together today.  An associated Viking village allows visitors to engage in activities that characterized Viking culture.

The Viking civilization first arose in Scandinavia in the 8th Century AD and endured until the early 11th Century; by then they had merged with the regional Christian society.  Though known as ruthless raiders across the North Atlantic, the Vikings developed prowess in many areas of Nordic life and established trade routes that extended as far south as the Mediterranean Sea.  

International News

Though my exposure to foreign news programming has been limited over the years, it is clear to me that it offers a broader view of international issues than do major American news programs.  While we  may learn about natural disasters, wars and political upheavals outside the U.S., the focus is generally on those events that have some impact on American society.

We do not regularly hear about economic, cultural or social programs in foreign countries; as a result, we Americans have a limited world view.  By contrast, residents of foreign countries are keenly aware of problems facing the U.S.  

Our knowledge of global issues is impaired and our commitment to global solutions is thus diminished.  The welfare of human society as a whole, and of our planet itself, depends on international cooperation; unless we understand one another, that goal is unlikely to be achieved. 

In a Foreign Land

My wife and I are spending a few days in Copenhagen, Denmark, before heading up to the Faroe Islands, in the North Atlantic.  The site of established communities since the 11th Century, Copenhagen sits along a strait between the North and Baltic Seas.

Not a world traveler by nature, Denmark is only the fifth foreign country that I have visited over the course of my long tenure on this planet (not counting my many excursions into Canada).  While that fact might place me in the minority among jet-setting Americans, it is safe to say that most humans never leave their home country and I am certainly fortunate to have this opportunity.

Known for its harbor, bridges, canals, historic architecture and cultural amenities, Copenhagen is a vibrant city; cyclists dominate the urban center.  Yet, away from the historic buildings and tourist zones, it is like most cities, replete with industrial areas and modern construction.  More importantly, one notes that, despite our cultural differences, we humans have the same goals and concerns, especially related to our personal and family needs.  Too often, that fact is obscured by the trappings of tourism. 

Swallow-tailed Kite at Eagle Bluffs

After a rather uneventful and disappointing start to our visit, a friend and I encountered a swallow-tailed kite at Eagle Bluffs Conservation Area this morning.  Strafing the treetops at the south end of the refuge, this beautiful raptor made several passes before flying off down-river.

Having once nested along the Mississippi River, from Minnesota to the Gulf Coast, these kites are now primarily summer residents in Florida and along the southeast coasts of North America.  Most winter in South America.

Late summer is a period during which many birds wander beyond their usual range and it is certainly possible that the range of many species may expand as our climate warms.  Nevertheless, this morning's sighting was a special treat and a reminder to all birders that our expectations are not always met (sometimes, they are exceeded!). 

Down Time

Humans tend to admire productivity; idleness, unless imposed by illness, is often despised.  Indeed, those capable of balancing a variety of tasks are routinely praised.

"Doing nothing" is discouraged.  One should be reading, working, exercising, catching up on the news, taking in some form of entertainment or otherwise engaged.  "Idleness" is even considered to be sinful among those prone to mythology.

Yet, thought is the basis of creativity.  Those caught up in duties or self-imposed activities do not have time for thought (other than thinking about what needs to be done next).  They will never be artists, writers, inventors or philosophers. 

Whistling Kites

Since moving to Columbia, Missouri, 27 years ago, I have noticed that the summer population of Mississippi kites has greatly increased.  Occasionally observed in the past, especially on calm, balmy evenings, they have become a constant presence near our house (just a block from the University of Missouri campus).

Indeed, their whistling calls are one of the more common avian sounds in this area; as I write this post at midday, a trio of the kites are circling overhead.  Though they feed primarily on flying insects, their agility allows them to snare a wide variety of prey from the treetops or even from the ground; songbirds, frogs and snakes are among their victims.

As summer retreats southward, so also do the kites; most will winter in South America.  While many bird species are threatened by habitat destruction and climate change, these raptors seem to be thriving.

The Nostalgia of Freedom

It is that time of year in Columbia and in many other college towns across the nation.  Students are returning after summer break; of course, many are appearing on campus for the first time.

Those of us well beyond our college years enjoy the spectacle, even as the roads and restaurants become more congested.  We cannot escape the nostalgia that it evokes, including vivid memories of our academic experience, new friendships, social gatherings, sports events and impromptu parties.

Most of all, it is an emotional connection with our personal period of freedom, stretching from the end of high school to the commitments of marriage and/or our career.  Whether we admit it or not, that period shaped our life more than any other segment.  Freedom broadened our horizons while, in concert, imposing personal responsibility.  Though we can't go back, we can take in the scene and, hopefully, enjoy the memories that arise. 

A Window on Goldfinches

Replacing blinds in our Columbia, Missouri, house, I looked out across one of our flower beds as I worked.  Since a profusion of purple coneflowers have recently gone to seen, a flock of American goldfinches had stopped by to partake of the crop.

Always beautiful to behold, the colorful finches certainly brightened an otherwise cloudy afternoon.  Of course, their company also made my chore more enjoyable.

Permanent residents in Missouri, American goldfinches pair off to breed and raise their young but spend most of the year in sizable flocks, roaming the suburbs and countryside to feast on whatever seeds are available.  Birders who feed our avian neighbors know that they are especially fond of Nyjer ("thistle") seed. 

Good Rain

Despite having received torrential rain a month ago, Central Missouri has been dry for weeks.  Then, this morning, a steady rain developed just after sunrise and continued until early afternoon.

Unlike the chilly rain of March or the violent downpours associated with summer thunderstorms, today's precipitation was welcoming; combined with a temperature near 70 degrees F, it offered a perfect opportunity for a walk in the rain.

More importantly, this gentle rain, triggered by a stationary front that dipped across Missouri, soaked the soil without flooding the landscape.  Later this week, as heat builds from the West, thunderstorms are expected to rake our region and we may then forget the inviting experience of a good rain. 

Thoughts on the Olympics

As the Paris Olympics come to an end, I am, once again, left with mixed emotions.  While the spirit, comradery and athleticism of the contestants is inspiring, the underlying nationalism shines through.  Celebrities in the crowd (often on camera) represent our nation and attest to our pride.

Entertained and amazed by the performance of the athletes, we cannot help but root for our home country and are kept informed of the ever-changing "medal counts."  Of course, the U.S., China, Australia and other wealthy nations dominate the scoreboard, having molded their participants with the best training that money can buy.  The hard work of the athletes cannot and should not be denied but many opportunities have paved the way for their success.

Then there is the fact that, in the end, only the gold medals count.  More than tokens of athletic achievement, they open doors for future income; once the games are over, marketers and the public focus only on the winners.  Finally, one wonders if the money spent on hosting the Olympics (and the Olympic trials) is justified, especially considering the many social and environmental problems facing humanity and our planet. 

Late Summer Chill

We awoke to a temperature of 55 degrees F in central Missouri this morning, the first hint of autumn.  After a long, hot summer (with more surely to come), it was a welcome development. 

This rather sudden change is due to a dome of high pressure that slid southward from Canada, bringing dry, cool air with it.  The initial pulse of autumn weather won't last long but it reassures us that, even in a warming climate, the Earth's atmosphere remains in flux, responding to the jet stream and solar cycle.

At Phillips Lake this morning, the birds were especially active and noisy in the chilly air; highlights included blue grosbeaks and prairie warblers.  Except for early shorebirds, autumn migrants will not grace our region for another month or so; after all, they respond to the waning daylight, not the occasional incursion of cool weather.

Mending the Divide II

Now that Kamala Harris has named her running mate (a choice that I support), she might fortify her commitment to mending the political divide in this country by placing a couple of well-respected, moderate Republicans in her Cabinet.

Such a bold move is called for in these perilous times when our Democracy is threatened by the prospect of a second Trump term.  Demonstrating a willingness to go beyond "working with Republicans," such appointments would further marginalize the extreme Right Wing of that Party.

Policies and talking points may garner votes but courageous action is needed to end this era of perpetual sniping between Democrats and Republicans.  I am personally confident that a significant majority of Americans do not want Trump to be reelected but the inclusion of moderate Republicans on Kamala Harris' executive team may finally squash the MAGA cult.

See also: Mending the Divide   

First Signs of the Monsoon

Over the past few days, scattered showers and a few thunderstorms indicated that the high pressure dome, responsible for our persistent hot, dry weather, was beginning to shift eastward  Yesterday, a dense swath of clouds formed above the Front Range, shrouding the higher peaks.  A glance at the radar revealed an arc of precipitation, from West Texas to the Four Corners region and continuing northeastward to the Front Range.

This pattern is typical of the Southwestern Monsoon, as Gulf of Mexico moisture flows along the outer rim of the high pressure dome; the latter is typically centered over the Southern Plains.  Here in Metro Denver, it's welcome, late-day storms generally arrive by late July or August.

By yesterday afternoon, cloud cover had spread across the city and, just before 6 PM, glorious rain drenched our Littleton farm; periods of rainfall are expected to increase through the week as the monsoon intensifies.  Nevertheless, summer heat is far from over and our warming climate will have an uncertain impact on this annual weather event.  

Debby Floods the Southeast

After raking the Gulf Coast of the Florida Peninsula with strong winds, heavy rain and tornados, Hurricane Debby made landfall in the State's Big Bend area this morning, producing a storm surge of six feet or more.  Despite all of this havoc, the storm's wrath may increase as it stalls over southern Georgia and South Carolina, dropping up to two feet of rain as it pulls in moisture from the Atlantic.

Though not a powerful hurricane, Debby will deliver copious tropical moisture to the region, fed by the very warm ocean waters.  Since there is no approaching front to force the storm out to sea, extensive flooding is expected.

Once again, our warming climate is fueling the development of more tropical storms and augmenting their destructive effects.  Unless we take this problem seriously, the welfare of communities and ecosystems across the globe will be threatened.  Vote Democratic!  

Subjective Sports

Whenever I tune into the Olympics, I prefer to watch objectively measured sporting events, those in which outcomes are measured by the parameters of time, distance, weight, scored points, accuracy, etc.

Subjective sports, such as gymnastics and diving, rely on the assessment of judges.  While I'm sure that most try to be accurate and fair, they are humans, subject to the influence of expectation, anticipation and, dare I suggest, bias.  Though I certainly admire the athletic skills of the competitors, I find that the scoring system is painfully fickle.

No doubt, once again, my naturalist philosophy plays into my sports watching preference.  After all, natural predators and their prey species survive based on their physical prowess (speed, strength, agility), not on specific performance criteria.  Nature is neither judgmental nor subjective.

Disappointment at the Canyon

Clear Creek, a tributary of the South Platte River, rises along the Continental Divide and descends eastward, rumbling onto the Piedmont at Golden, Colorado.  Below Idaho Springs, it has carved a narrow, scenic canyon through the foothills (photo).

Always looking for a new trail to explore, we discovered that the Peak to Plains Trail, not yet completed, will parallel Clear Creek through this canyon.  Having not been in Clear Creek Canyon for a decade or more, we headed for the Big Easy Trailhead, which provides access to a completed section of the trail.

To my dismay, we discovered that the new route is a paved hike-bike trail, built into the south wall of the canyon and accessed by rusted-metal bridges from parking lots along the canyon road; newer sections are completed or under construction near Golden.  While this concrete path will permit access to handicapped individuals and (perhaps) keep cyclists off the winding (and dangerous) road, it is, in my opinion, an extension of suburbia into the canyon ecosystem.  Despite heroic work and what has surely been an exorbitant expense, I must register my disappointment. 

Hovering Grasshoppers

Sitting in the shade on another hot, sunny day along the Front Range, I watched a small group of grasshoppers, hovering above our burned-out "lawn."  Though I have often seen them making brief flights between feeding areas, I don't recall having observed such prolonged hovering.

Indeed, to my human eye, they resembled a patrol of military choppers, searching for enemies in the grassy tangles below.  In fact, they were likely male grasshoppers, trying to impress females on the ground.  This mating behavior, apparently common, has managed to escape my attention over the years.

Just the latest example of my limited knowledge of the complexity and diversity of nature, despite many years in the field.  We should all acknowledge our incomplete understanding of the natural world and protect as much as possible while it still exists. We depend on her varied ecosystems far more than we are willing to admit. 

Wildfires: Distant & Near

Stuck beneath an atmospheric dome of hot air, the Colorado Front Range cities have also endured incursions of smoke from distant wildfires across the American West.  Yesterday, three separate fires developed along the foothill corridor, from Metro Denver to Estes Park, aggravating the poor air quality.

Despite a good winter and spring snowpack across the Continental Divide, lower elevation ecosystems have been stressed by a hot and unusually dry summer.  Furthermore, yesterday's fires developed on a relatively calm day; high winds, not uncommon here, would have made these flareups far worse.  Unfortunately, at least one individual was killed and hundreds of residents were evacuated.

The Southwest Monsoon generally provides significant precipitation in August and rain is expected by the middle of next week; however, thunderstorms also bring the risk of lightning-induced wildfire.  Finally, as our climate warms, the monsoon season may be altered, adding another level of uncertainty and risk in this fire-prone region.