Defined by its hydrology, the Great Basin is a large area of the American West within which the rivers and streams drain from an irregular ring of topographic divides toward the interior of the basin, never to reach the sea. The west edge of the Great Basin runs along the crest of the southern Cascades, the Sierra Nevada Range, the Tehachapi Range and the San Bernardino Mountains while the east edge follows the crest of the Wasatch Plateau and the westernmost Uintas. Along its northern boundary, an irregular, low divide separates the watersheds of the basin rivers (dominated by the Bear and Humboldt Rivers) from that of the Snake River. The southern edge of the Great Basin is even more complex, separating basin river watersheds from that of the Colorado River, extending southward into northwest Mexico.
Since the Great Basin is surrounded by topographic divides, winds are downsloping from all directions, warming and drying the air; as a result, the Basin floor, with elevations ranging from 6500 feet to below sea level (in Death Valley), is a mosaic of deserts, covered by sage grasslands, salt flats and, in parts of the Mojave, joshua trees. The largest lakes within the Great Basin are the Great Salt Lake and Utah Lake, both in Utah, Pyramid Lake, in northwest Nevada, and Lake Tahoe and the Salton Sea in California.
Within the Great Basin, Earth's crust is being stretched in an east-west direction, caught between the uplifts of the Sierra Nevada, Rocky Mountains and Colorado Plateau. This has created a maze of linear faults, aligned north to south, along which fault-block mountains have risen to produce waves of ranges, separated by broad, flat valleys; while this aptly named Basin and Range Province includes all of the Great Basin, it also extends southeastward into the Sonoran Desert.
Saturday, December 31, 2011
Friday, December 30, 2011
An Extreme Weather Year
By all accounts, 2011 has been a year of extreme weather across the U.S. Severe flooding in New England, a catastrophic drought across the Southern Plains, the worst tornado outbreak in recorded history, massive haboobs in the West and destructive wildfires across Texas have all dominated the headlines.
While years like this spawn doomsday discussions about the viability of our ecosystems, the threat to agriculture and the future welfare of mankind, they have no true predictive value. Though a backdrop of global warming cannot be ignored, these outbreaks of severe weather are more directly related to stagnant weather patterns, atmospheric derangements that often produce adjacent extremes of heat and cold, deluge and drought etc. A warmer climate may add fuel to the fire but the events themselves are sporadic; the last comparable episode of tornadic activity was in 1974 (almost 40 years ago) and the disastrous hurricane season of 2005 has since been followed by rather tepid years for tropical storms in the Atlantic Basin.
Periods of extreme weather always grab our attention and, since we are still rebounding from a glacial epoch, they are likely to be more intense when they do occur. But our relatively brief history of recorded weather gives us the impression that these outbreaks are both more extreme and less common than they actually have been from the broader perspective of Earth's history. Rather, we are now here to observe, document and be threatened by natural events that molded this planet long before our species evolved (or had the capability to record them).
While years like this spawn doomsday discussions about the viability of our ecosystems, the threat to agriculture and the future welfare of mankind, they have no true predictive value. Though a backdrop of global warming cannot be ignored, these outbreaks of severe weather are more directly related to stagnant weather patterns, atmospheric derangements that often produce adjacent extremes of heat and cold, deluge and drought etc. A warmer climate may add fuel to the fire but the events themselves are sporadic; the last comparable episode of tornadic activity was in 1974 (almost 40 years ago) and the disastrous hurricane season of 2005 has since been followed by rather tepid years for tropical storms in the Atlantic Basin.
Periods of extreme weather always grab our attention and, since we are still rebounding from a glacial epoch, they are likely to be more intense when they do occur. But our relatively brief history of recorded weather gives us the impression that these outbreaks are both more extreme and less common than they actually have been from the broader perspective of Earth's history. Rather, we are now here to observe, document and be threatened by natural events that molded this planet long before our species evolved (or had the capability to record them).
Thursday, December 29, 2011
Pileated Woodpeckers
Most birders can easily remember their first sighting of a pileated woodpecker, especially due to their large size and distinctive markings; for me, this occurred along a country road near Wilmington, North Carolina. Though these woodpeckers are fairly common throughout much of their range, they prefer mature forests and are not often seen by the casual suburban birdwatcher.
Pileated woodpeckers inhabit forested areas of the eastern U.S., southern Canada, the Northern Rockies and Pacific Northwest; other than the rare and possibly extinct Ivory-billed Woodpecker of southeastern swamp forests, pileateds are the largest woodpeckers in North America. Adult pairs are monogamous and may remain together for a decade or more. Each spring, the pair excavates a new, oval-shaped tree cavity in which to raise their brood of 3-5 young; both parents incubate the eggs and, once fledged, the offspring will remain with their parents until autumn. The male often uses the nest cavity through the following winter and, once abandoned, it provides shelter for owls, songbirds and a variety of small mammals.
Crow sized, pileated woodpeckers are easily recognized by their bright red crest, white facial markings and white wing patches; their loud, hysterical call or slow, resonant drumming often call attention to their presence. Feasting on beetles, larvae and carpenter ants, they strip sections of bark from dying trees or scour stumps and fallen logs for their prey; in winter, pileated woodpeckers also feed on nuts and berries.
Pileated woodpeckers inhabit forested areas of the eastern U.S., southern Canada, the Northern Rockies and Pacific Northwest; other than the rare and possibly extinct Ivory-billed Woodpecker of southeastern swamp forests, pileateds are the largest woodpeckers in North America. Adult pairs are monogamous and may remain together for a decade or more. Each spring, the pair excavates a new, oval-shaped tree cavity in which to raise their brood of 3-5 young; both parents incubate the eggs and, once fledged, the offspring will remain with their parents until autumn. The male often uses the nest cavity through the following winter and, once abandoned, it provides shelter for owls, songbirds and a variety of small mammals.
Crow sized, pileated woodpeckers are easily recognized by their bright red crest, white facial markings and white wing patches; their loud, hysterical call or slow, resonant drumming often call attention to their presence. Feasting on beetles, larvae and carpenter ants, they strip sections of bark from dying trees or scour stumps and fallen logs for their prey; in winter, pileated woodpeckers also feed on nuts and berries.
Wednesday, December 28, 2011
Moon over Venus
Last evening, a crescent moon gleamed in the southwest sky, its southern point tipped toward the horizon. Below the moon was Venus, its position suggesting a bright ornament hanging from and tilting its larger companion. This, of course, was an illusion, a product of my vantage point and the distance of those heavenly bodies from Earth. In fact, Venus has a diameter of 7521 miles, more than three times that of the moon; however, at its closest approach, Venus is 25 million miles from Earth, more than 1000 times the distance from Earth to the moon.
Such astronomical illusions have confused humans since our earliest days, leading us to see relationships among the stars and planets that don't actually exist. Indeed, many of the named constellations consist of stars that are farther from one another than each is from the Earth; their grouping in the night sky is merely a consequence of our own location in space. For astrologists or other pseudo-scientists to make predictions based upon the relative positions of certain planets and constellations is thus pure folly.
Of course, man's history of misinterpreting nature extends well beyond the night sky. Before the scientific era, assumptions were made that, today, seem to be remarkably naive, if not comical. Then again, even our modern understanding of nature's complexity, from atoms to ecosystems, continues to evolve and, centuries from now, our perspective will have changed dramatically. Science is, after all, a process and a healthy degree of skepticism is essential to its advance.
Such astronomical illusions have confused humans since our earliest days, leading us to see relationships among the stars and planets that don't actually exist. Indeed, many of the named constellations consist of stars that are farther from one another than each is from the Earth; their grouping in the night sky is merely a consequence of our own location in space. For astrologists or other pseudo-scientists to make predictions based upon the relative positions of certain planets and constellations is thus pure folly.
Of course, man's history of misinterpreting nature extends well beyond the night sky. Before the scientific era, assumptions were made that, today, seem to be remarkably naive, if not comical. Then again, even our modern understanding of nature's complexity, from atoms to ecosystems, continues to evolve and, centuries from now, our perspective will have changed dramatically. Science is, after all, a process and a healthy degree of skepticism is essential to its advance.
Tuesday, December 27, 2011
Coffins: The Final Insult
The chemicals of life initially formed in a supernova explosion, fusing hydrogen and helium atoms to produce the "heavier" elements; these, in turn, combined to form molecules, the building blocks of all substances on Earth. The origin of life coincided with the appearance of DNA, which governs the assembly and function of all organisms, from bacteria to humans. Human DNA is the product of 3.6 billion years of DNA evolution, altered by random mutations, the incorporation of DNA from viral agents and countless recombinations of chromosomal DNA through sexual reproduction, all acted upon by natural selection.
Human DNA does not represent the endpoint of evolution but, rather, the current tip of one branch on the complex tree of life. Furthermore, our ability to live and reproduce on this planet is dependent upon the products of other life forms, most notably the oxygen released by photosynthesis and the nutrients provided by the various plants and animals that we consume. Knowing all of this, it is clear that we humans are part of nature, as connected to and as dependent upon other life forms as are all species on Earth.
Yet, our large brains, spawning imagination and creativity, have convinced may humans that we are a chosen species, distinct from and superior to the other life forms that share this planet. This belief, tied directly to the concept of spirituality, is invoked to justify our abuse of nature and our futile efforts to control her forces. Our final insult is the use of coffins, those cozy, hermetically sealed chambers for the dead, designed to protect our remnants from nature's recyclers. Though we are products of nature, born of her complexity, many selfishly decline to return the chemicals of life when their time on Earth has run its course.
Human DNA does not represent the endpoint of evolution but, rather, the current tip of one branch on the complex tree of life. Furthermore, our ability to live and reproduce on this planet is dependent upon the products of other life forms, most notably the oxygen released by photosynthesis and the nutrients provided by the various plants and animals that we consume. Knowing all of this, it is clear that we humans are part of nature, as connected to and as dependent upon other life forms as are all species on Earth.
Yet, our large brains, spawning imagination and creativity, have convinced may humans that we are a chosen species, distinct from and superior to the other life forms that share this planet. This belief, tied directly to the concept of spirituality, is invoked to justify our abuse of nature and our futile efforts to control her forces. Our final insult is the use of coffins, those cozy, hermetically sealed chambers for the dead, designed to protect our remnants from nature's recyclers. Though we are products of nature, born of her complexity, many selfishly decline to return the chemicals of life when their time on Earth has run its course.
Monday, December 26, 2011
Birding in Context
Though I have been a birder for more than 35 years, I have never been one to chase after rare birds or to plan my vacations to add species to my life list. Nor am I crazy about group birding or bird related sporting events such as a "Big Year."
As a naturalist, I enjoy watching birds within the context of their natural habitat, observing their interaction with plants and other animals and coming to understand how they contribute to the function of that ecosystem. Whether the setting is a barrier island, a mountain forest, a rolling prairie or a suburban neighborhood, birds play important roles, as foragers, hunters and potential prey. Furthermore, since many species are migratory, their unique contribution is often seasonal, either as temporary residents or as transient visitors.
Like other creatures, birds are far more interesting than items on a checklist and we cannot truly appreciate their importance without recognizing their vital role in maintaining the health of natural ecosystems. To know a bird only by its appearance is to accept a superficial understanding of nature's complex web of life.
As a naturalist, I enjoy watching birds within the context of their natural habitat, observing their interaction with plants and other animals and coming to understand how they contribute to the function of that ecosystem. Whether the setting is a barrier island, a mountain forest, a rolling prairie or a suburban neighborhood, birds play important roles, as foragers, hunters and potential prey. Furthermore, since many species are migratory, their unique contribution is often seasonal, either as temporary residents or as transient visitors.
Like other creatures, birds are far more interesting than items on a checklist and we cannot truly appreciate their importance without recognizing their vital role in maintaining the health of natural ecosystems. To know a bird only by its appearance is to accept a superficial understanding of nature's complex web of life.
Sunday, December 25, 2011
Humans, Faith & the Universe
Christmas is a meaningful observance for members of one religion on one planet in our vast Universe. Since the Universe harbors trillions of suns, it is safe to assume that there are at least millions of planets similar to Earth, many thousands of which are inhabited by humanoid populations similar to our own. With that probability in mind, one wonders whether the simplistic beliefs associated with Christmas are universal or purely a fabrication of human thought, creativity and culture.
Most human societies support religious freedom as long as those groups or intstitutions do not impose their beliefs on others or invoke those beliefs to abolish or restrict the rights of others. Unfortunately, the indoctrination of innocent children with religious faith, often reinforced by guilt and fear, is a common practice in human society and seems to acknowledge the fact that mature, experienced and educated adults may not be as receptive to such beliefs.
Religous faith is clearly distinct from morality and, in many cases, has been used to justify immoral behavior. Furthermore, despite the strong convictions of the faithful, there is no reason to believe that religious dogma has any relevance beyond the realm of human civilization. The application of simplistic human beliefs to our vast and complex Universe is, at least intellectually, problematic.
Most human societies support religious freedom as long as those groups or intstitutions do not impose their beliefs on others or invoke those beliefs to abolish or restrict the rights of others. Unfortunately, the indoctrination of innocent children with religious faith, often reinforced by guilt and fear, is a common practice in human society and seems to acknowledge the fact that mature, experienced and educated adults may not be as receptive to such beliefs.
Religous faith is clearly distinct from morality and, in many cases, has been used to justify immoral behavior. Furthermore, despite the strong convictions of the faithful, there is no reason to believe that religious dogma has any relevance beyond the realm of human civilization. The application of simplistic human beliefs to our vast and complex Universe is, at least intellectually, problematic.
Saturday, December 24, 2011
The Common Good
The Christmas Holiday Season, more than any other time of year, highlights the horrendous disparity between the American socioeconomic classes. While the wealthy shower one another with extravagant gifts and engage in excessive consumption, the poor can barely make ends meet, often forced to choose between holiday gifts and the staples of survival.
In my judgment, the wide gulf between rich and poor in this country reflects the distorted priorities of our economic system. The pay structure of corporate executives is based on profit margins, not on job creation or the social value of their goods and services. At our universities, where the cost of tuition is becoming formidable, football coaches are paid more than ten times the salaries of the best professors. And, throughout our society as a whole, we reward entertainers, athletes and other celebrities far out of proportion to their value to society.
The stories of Christmas, from Bethlehem to Scrooge to It's a Wonderful Life, focus on the simple values of fairness, decency and the common good. Philanthropy and charity, while honorable, are not the answer to the tribulations of the less fortunate. Rather, an effort to reset our priorities and to ensure that all citizens both contribute to and benefit from the vast resources of this country will be essential to our future prosperity. If we fail to do so, other, less desirable forces will surely emerge.
In my judgment, the wide gulf between rich and poor in this country reflects the distorted priorities of our economic system. The pay structure of corporate executives is based on profit margins, not on job creation or the social value of their goods and services. At our universities, where the cost of tuition is becoming formidable, football coaches are paid more than ten times the salaries of the best professors. And, throughout our society as a whole, we reward entertainers, athletes and other celebrities far out of proportion to their value to society.
The stories of Christmas, from Bethlehem to Scrooge to It's a Wonderful Life, focus on the simple values of fairness, decency and the common good. Philanthropy and charity, while honorable, are not the answer to the tribulations of the less fortunate. Rather, an effort to reset our priorities and to ensure that all citizens both contribute to and benefit from the vast resources of this country will be essential to our future prosperity. If we fail to do so, other, less desirable forces will surely emerge.
Friday, December 23, 2011
The Desert Raccoon
Natives of Central and South America, coatimundis have spread into the Sonoran and Chihuahuan Deserts of the southwestern U.S. Formally known as white-nosed coatimundis, these members of the raccoon family, unlike their more widespread and familiar relatives, are diurnal and gregarious, often moving about in noisy bands composed of females and their young.
Adult males, twice as large as the females, weigh up to 25 pounds and tend to be more solitary. Mating occurs in the early spring and 4-6 young are born after a gestation of almost 3 months. Females often use rock crevices for nursery dens but she and her offspring later use crude arboreal platforms for sleeping and resting. Wandering about for much of the day, these omnivores locate food and prey with their long, tapered snout; insects, lizards, eggs, nuts and fruit comprise most of their diet. Coatimundis are agile climbers, equipped with sharp claws to grasp limbs and a long tail for balance.
Favoring wooded canyons of the Desert Southwest, white-nosed coatis and their brown-nosed South American cousins are threatened primarily by habitat loss. Natural predators include mountain lions, coyotes, bobcats and golden eagles in the U.S. and jaguars, ocelots and boas in Central and South America. Known to live up to 15 years in captivity, coatis have a natural life span of 6-8 years.
Adult males, twice as large as the females, weigh up to 25 pounds and tend to be more solitary. Mating occurs in the early spring and 4-6 young are born after a gestation of almost 3 months. Females often use rock crevices for nursery dens but she and her offspring later use crude arboreal platforms for sleeping and resting. Wandering about for much of the day, these omnivores locate food and prey with their long, tapered snout; insects, lizards, eggs, nuts and fruit comprise most of their diet. Coatimundis are agile climbers, equipped with sharp claws to grasp limbs and a long tail for balance.
Favoring wooded canyons of the Desert Southwest, white-nosed coatis and their brown-nosed South American cousins are threatened primarily by habitat loss. Natural predators include mountain lions, coyotes, bobcats and golden eagles in the U.S. and jaguars, ocelots and boas in Central and South America. Known to live up to 15 years in captivity, coatis have a natural life span of 6-8 years.
Thursday, December 22, 2011
Ice Age Relics
Mention Ice Age relics and most of us think of frozen mammoth carcasses, unearthed Neandertal bones or that living relic, the musk ox. More sophisticated students of natural history might also picture various forms of glacial terrain, erratic boulders or relic groves of hemlock, surviving the warm Holocene in shaded valleys of the Temperate Zone.
In fact, most modern plants and animals lived during the Pleistocene, having "moved" to warmer latitudes or to deeper waters when glaciers advanced and sea levels fell. Of course, the colder and wetter climate of the Pleistocene also spawned the evolution of new species, such as polar bears and Arctic fox, as their ancestors adapted to changing conditions.
We humans are also children of the Pleistocene, having appeared about 130,000 years ago, late in the course of that 2 million year Epoch. Like other creatures, we adapted to its shifting climate but, due to our large brains, we did not require new physical traits to survive; rather, we used fire, clothing and shelter for protection from the cold and took advantage of Pleistocene land bridges or ice shelves to colonize the globe. Like the musk ox and the polar bear, we are living relics of the Ice Age.
In fact, most modern plants and animals lived during the Pleistocene, having "moved" to warmer latitudes or to deeper waters when glaciers advanced and sea levels fell. Of course, the colder and wetter climate of the Pleistocene also spawned the evolution of new species, such as polar bears and Arctic fox, as their ancestors adapted to changing conditions.
We humans are also children of the Pleistocene, having appeared about 130,000 years ago, late in the course of that 2 million year Epoch. Like other creatures, we adapted to its shifting climate but, due to our large brains, we did not require new physical traits to survive; rather, we used fire, clothing and shelter for protection from the cold and took advantage of Pleistocene land bridges or ice shelves to colonize the globe. Like the musk ox and the polar bear, we are living relics of the Ice Age.
Wednesday, December 21, 2011
Kofa NWR
If you enjoy an escape to the Desert Southwest during the winter months but hope to avoid the congestion of large cities and National Parks, consider a visit to Kofa National Wildlife Refuge, northeast of Yuma, Arizona. This extensive preserve (over 665,000 acres) was set aside in 1939 to protect habitat for desert bighorn sheep; more than 80% of the refuge is designated wilderness and it thus harbors some of the most pristine Sonoran Desert landscape in the U.S.
Stretching between the Kofa Mountains on the north to the Castle Dome Mountains in the south, this refuge is accessed by a network of graveled roads, most of which require four-wheel drive vehicles. However, the road to Palm Canyon, leading east from US 95 between Quartzite and Yuma, can be traversed by the family car and is perhaps the best means to explore this ecosystem; a short trail at its terminus leads to a stand of California fan palms and conditioned hikers can proceed on to higher terrain.
In addition to the fan palms, the only palms native to Arizona, Kofa NWR is known for its tremendous diversity of Sonoran Desert plants, including the Kofa mountain barberry. Of course, the refuge is also home to a spectacular variety of desert wildlife; joining the reclusive desert bighorn sheep are mountain lions, coyotes, mule deer, kangaroo rats, five species of rattlesnake, a diverse collection of lizards and the usual mix of Sonoran desert birds. Named for the abandoned King of Arizona gold mine, this wilderness also harbors remnants of past mining and ranching activity; since it was used for military training during WWII, it may contain unexploded ordinance and visitors are cautioned not to handle such materials.
Stretching between the Kofa Mountains on the north to the Castle Dome Mountains in the south, this refuge is accessed by a network of graveled roads, most of which require four-wheel drive vehicles. However, the road to Palm Canyon, leading east from US 95 between Quartzite and Yuma, can be traversed by the family car and is perhaps the best means to explore this ecosystem; a short trail at its terminus leads to a stand of California fan palms and conditioned hikers can proceed on to higher terrain.
In addition to the fan palms, the only palms native to Arizona, Kofa NWR is known for its tremendous diversity of Sonoran Desert plants, including the Kofa mountain barberry. Of course, the refuge is also home to a spectacular variety of desert wildlife; joining the reclusive desert bighorn sheep are mountain lions, coyotes, mule deer, kangaroo rats, five species of rattlesnake, a diverse collection of lizards and the usual mix of Sonoran desert birds. Named for the abandoned King of Arizona gold mine, this wilderness also harbors remnants of past mining and ranching activity; since it was used for military training during WWII, it may contain unexploded ordinance and visitors are cautioned not to handle such materials.
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
Southwest Storm
Yesterday morning, a deep atmospheric trough covered the western U.S., its leading edge stretching from southern New Mexico to Upper Michigan. As cold air poured southward within this dip in the jet stream, a powerful storm developed along its southern rim, sweeping moisture up from the Gulf of Mexico.
By later in the day, the storm had moved into the northern Texas Panhandle and its central pressure was falling. Strong, counterclockwise winds raked the Southern Plains and, northwest of the cold front, blizzard conditions developed across northeast New Mexico, southeastern Colorado and southwestern Kansas. Ahead of the front, Gulf moisture was streaming through the Midwest, igniting thunderstorms in northeast Texas and heavy rain across eastern Oklahoma, eastern Kansas and most of Missouri.
This morning, the storm has weakened and its center swirls over western Oklahoma. High pressure, dropping southward within the trough, has shut down the snowfall and has shoved most of the rain to the south and east; here in central Missouri, a light drizzle persists, driven by a raw east wind behind the front. While this system is abating, another storm, forecast to push through the Heartland later this week, may produce a White Christmas for those of us in the Midwest and Northeast.
By later in the day, the storm had moved into the northern Texas Panhandle and its central pressure was falling. Strong, counterclockwise winds raked the Southern Plains and, northwest of the cold front, blizzard conditions developed across northeast New Mexico, southeastern Colorado and southwestern Kansas. Ahead of the front, Gulf moisture was streaming through the Midwest, igniting thunderstorms in northeast Texas and heavy rain across eastern Oklahoma, eastern Kansas and most of Missouri.
This morning, the storm has weakened and its center swirls over western Oklahoma. High pressure, dropping southward within the trough, has shut down the snowfall and has shoved most of the rain to the south and east; here in central Missouri, a light drizzle persists, driven by a raw east wind behind the front. While this system is abating, another storm, forecast to push through the Heartland later this week, may produce a White Christmas for those of us in the Midwest and Northeast.
Monday, December 19, 2011
Selling the Church
Tuning into 60 Minutes last evening, I encountered the usual mix of TV commercials for cell phone services, stock brokerages, automobiles and erectile dysfunction medications. But a new ad appeared amidst those expected enticements and was clearly aimed at the upscale, sophisticated viewers of that respected, long-running program. This polished and obviously expensive ad (given its placement on 60 Minutes) was directed at fallen-away Catholics; with images of the Vatican and scenes of aid work across the globe, it was a clear effort to restore the tarnished image of a once powerful and influential institution.
Reeling from the ongoing child abuse scandal and faced with an increasingly educated and skeptical populace, the Catholic Church is attempting to invoke a sense of nostalgia with this advertisement campaign. Whether a Fifth Avenue approach will be effective remains to be seen; after all, it is directed at past members who are unlikely to respond to this glossy package, having learned from personal experience that Church activities are devoted primarily to indoctrinating youth and ensuring future funds for the Church's coffers. As the ad so clearly demonstrates, the Catholic Church is (and has been) Big Business.
The new advertisement is, in fact, a capitulation on the Church's part, an admission that Catholic dogma, ritual and traditions are losing ground in the modern world. Support for the Church, like that for State Lottery programs, is increasingly dependent upon an impoverished and poorly educated segment of the population. It is unfortunate that those hard-earned tithings are now being used to fund this expensive propaganda.
Reeling from the ongoing child abuse scandal and faced with an increasingly educated and skeptical populace, the Catholic Church is attempting to invoke a sense of nostalgia with this advertisement campaign. Whether a Fifth Avenue approach will be effective remains to be seen; after all, it is directed at past members who are unlikely to respond to this glossy package, having learned from personal experience that Church activities are devoted primarily to indoctrinating youth and ensuring future funds for the Church's coffers. As the ad so clearly demonstrates, the Catholic Church is (and has been) Big Business.
The new advertisement is, in fact, a capitulation on the Church's part, an admission that Catholic dogma, ritual and traditions are losing ground in the modern world. Support for the Church, like that for State Lottery programs, is increasingly dependent upon an impoverished and poorly educated segment of the population. It is unfortunate that those hard-earned tithings are now being used to fund this expensive propaganda.
Sunday, December 18, 2011
A Sherbet Sunrise
Yesterday morning, as I left Denver under clear, cold skies, I was treated to a spectacular sunrise on the High Plains. The mellow but brilliant colors reminded me of the rainbow sherbet that I often enjoyed as a child (and still do on occasion). Low, flat clouds had taken on a raspberry glow while a swath of lemon yellow stretched across the horizon, fading to lime green at the fringes. As sunrise approached, the pale yellow evolved to a deep orange off to the southeast, marking the site where the sun would soon appear.
Humans have always been inspired by the sunrise and, for early man, it surely brought hope after the long, frigid winter nights. Even today, the sun's return is especially welcome after the extended periods of darkness that typify the season. More than signifying the recovery of light and heat (what little is provided by a low winter sun), the colorful display offers reassurance that nature's cycle will persevere.
Some may feel that I am overstating the significance of a sunrise to such intelligent creatures as human beings. But I suspect that we all carry collective memories from our distant ancestors, perhaps imprinted in our genetic code, that trigger deep-seated emotions in response to certain natural events. Early in our history, this revelation was vital to combat despair and, even today, it lingers in our soul for the same purpose.
Humans have always been inspired by the sunrise and, for early man, it surely brought hope after the long, frigid winter nights. Even today, the sun's return is especially welcome after the extended periods of darkness that typify the season. More than signifying the recovery of light and heat (what little is provided by a low winter sun), the colorful display offers reassurance that nature's cycle will persevere.
Some may feel that I am overstating the significance of a sunrise to such intelligent creatures as human beings. But I suspect that we all carry collective memories from our distant ancestors, perhaps imprinted in our genetic code, that trigger deep-seated emotions in response to certain natural events. Early in our history, this revelation was vital to combat despair and, even today, it lingers in our soul for the same purpose.
Saturday, December 17, 2011
The Owens Valley
The Owens River of southeast California rises along the eastern flank of the Sierra Nevada Mountains, at the southeast edge of Yosemite National Park. After flowing eastward through the Long Valley Caldera, the river angles to the south-southeast and begins its journey through the magnificent landscape of the Owens Valley.
The Owens Valley is a geologic graben, a block of crust that dropped between the parallel faults of the Sierra batholith to its west and the White-Inyo fault block mountains to its east; as the mountains rose on either side, this block slipped downward. The floor of the valley has an elevation of 4000 to 3500 feet (north to south) while its steep walls rise toward some of the highest summits in the Lower 48; the latter include Mt. Whitney in the Sierra Nevada (14,498 feet) and White Mountain Peak (14,252 feet) in the White Mountains. The latter range also includes Boundary Peak (13,167 feet), the highest point in Nevada, while the Inyo Mountains, known for their exposure of Cambrian sediments, top out below 12,000 feet.
Representing the southwest edge of the Basin and Range Province, the Owens Valley lies in the rain shadow of the Sierra Nevada and receives very little moisture from the east due to the high wall of the White and Inyo Mountains. The waters of the Owens River have thus long been diverted for crop production across the Valley and, since 1913, much of its flow has been directed into the Los Angeles Aqueduct, leaving Owens Lake, the natural terminus of the river, mostly dry. Back in the Pleistocene, when mountain glaciers fed the Owens River, its lake basin spilled to the east (around the southern end of the Inyo Range), merging with lakes from other Great Basin rivers to produce an inland sea across Death Valley and adjacent lowlands.
The Owens Valley is a geologic graben, a block of crust that dropped between the parallel faults of the Sierra batholith to its west and the White-Inyo fault block mountains to its east; as the mountains rose on either side, this block slipped downward. The floor of the valley has an elevation of 4000 to 3500 feet (north to south) while its steep walls rise toward some of the highest summits in the Lower 48; the latter include Mt. Whitney in the Sierra Nevada (14,498 feet) and White Mountain Peak (14,252 feet) in the White Mountains. The latter range also includes Boundary Peak (13,167 feet), the highest point in Nevada, while the Inyo Mountains, known for their exposure of Cambrian sediments, top out below 12,000 feet.
Representing the southwest edge of the Basin and Range Province, the Owens Valley lies in the rain shadow of the Sierra Nevada and receives very little moisture from the east due to the high wall of the White and Inyo Mountains. The waters of the Owens River have thus long been diverted for crop production across the Valley and, since 1913, much of its flow has been directed into the Los Angeles Aqueduct, leaving Owens Lake, the natural terminus of the river, mostly dry. Back in the Pleistocene, when mountain glaciers fed the Owens River, its lake basin spilled to the east (around the southern end of the Inyo Range), merging with lakes from other Great Basin rivers to produce an inland sea across Death Valley and adjacent lowlands.
Friday, December 16, 2011
The Art of Parenting
Ask responsible parents and you will find that they all agree on one point: Parenting is both the most rewarding and the most challenging endeavor that a human can undertake. More than a duty to provide food, clothing, shelter and education, it involves the commitment to guide a child (or children) through the varied, tumultuous stages of growth and maturation.
The art of parenting is the ability to offer advice without preaching, to instill confidence without stoking arrogance, to set boundaries without smothering creativity, to encourage social responsibility without stifling personal independence and to foster achievement without setting unreasonable goals. An engaged parent recognizes the innate abilities and natural talents in his or her child and makes the effort to provide the resources (financial, educational and social) that will facilitate their development. Above all else, good parenting involves the capacity to listen, the fortitude to discuss difficult issues and the willingness to step aside when the time is right.
Unfortunately, too many parents equate parenthood with procreation and have little to offer once the biologic duties are complete. The ills of modern human society reflect poor parenting, whether it be a dysfunctional approach to discipline, a zealous commitment to intolerance, an inability to provide emotional support or an indifference to the hopes, dreams and fears of their children. Parenthood must be desired, planned, welcomed and accepted with all of its joys and challenges; if not, both the child and society will pay the price.
The art of parenting is the ability to offer advice without preaching, to instill confidence without stoking arrogance, to set boundaries without smothering creativity, to encourage social responsibility without stifling personal independence and to foster achievement without setting unreasonable goals. An engaged parent recognizes the innate abilities and natural talents in his or her child and makes the effort to provide the resources (financial, educational and social) that will facilitate their development. Above all else, good parenting involves the capacity to listen, the fortitude to discuss difficult issues and the willingness to step aside when the time is right.
Unfortunately, too many parents equate parenthood with procreation and have little to offer once the biologic duties are complete. The ills of modern human society reflect poor parenting, whether it be a dysfunctional approach to discipline, a zealous commitment to intolerance, an inability to provide emotional support or an indifference to the hopes, dreams and fears of their children. Parenthood must be desired, planned, welcomed and accepted with all of its joys and challenges; if not, both the child and society will pay the price.
Thursday, December 15, 2011
River Refuge
Following a period of exceptionally cold weather along the Colorado Front Range, most of our lakes and ponds have frozen over, sending waterfowl to the South Platte River for vital nourishment. This annual phenomenon, earlier than usual this winter, concentrates the varied species of waterfowl as well as their natural predators. For birders and naturalists, this seasonal river refuge offers an opportunity to see a wide variety of species on a relatively short hike.
Yesterday morning, under clearing skies and amidst the warming air of a gentle chinook, I took a walk along the river through South Platte Park, in Littleton. As expected, ducks were abundant, including mallards, gadwalls, green-winged teal, buffleheads, common goldeneyes, common mergansers and a few ruddy ducks; hooded mergansers were unusually common, including one flock of a dozen birds. Belted kingfishers, great blue herons, ring-billed gulls, Canada geese, killdeer, black-billed magpies and the usual mix of winter songbirds were also drawn to the open water. A young coyote bolted from the riverside brush as I approached but other predators, including red fox, bald eagles and peregrine falcons were not encountered on my morning stroll.
The South Platte River is certainly not unique in its winter role as a waterfowl refuge. Most rivers throughout colder regions of our planet. providing open water amidst a frozen landscape, offer such seasonal spectacles. Indeed, birding along some of our larger rivers (the Upper Mississippi, Missouri and Ohio) is often very productive in winter as large, mixed flocks of waterfowl, gulls and bald eagles gather on and along their icy channels.
Yesterday morning, under clearing skies and amidst the warming air of a gentle chinook, I took a walk along the river through South Platte Park, in Littleton. As expected, ducks were abundant, including mallards, gadwalls, green-winged teal, buffleheads, common goldeneyes, common mergansers and a few ruddy ducks; hooded mergansers were unusually common, including one flock of a dozen birds. Belted kingfishers, great blue herons, ring-billed gulls, Canada geese, killdeer, black-billed magpies and the usual mix of winter songbirds were also drawn to the open water. A young coyote bolted from the riverside brush as I approached but other predators, including red fox, bald eagles and peregrine falcons were not encountered on my morning stroll.
The South Platte River is certainly not unique in its winter role as a waterfowl refuge. Most rivers throughout colder regions of our planet. providing open water amidst a frozen landscape, offer such seasonal spectacles. Indeed, birding along some of our larger rivers (the Upper Mississippi, Missouri and Ohio) is often very productive in winter as large, mixed flocks of waterfowl, gulls and bald eagles gather on and along their icy channels.
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
Front Range Geese
Lying at the western edge of the Central Flyway, the Front Range of Colorado has always been an important rest stop for migrating Canada geese. Before human habitation, the wetland corridors of the South Platte and Arkansas Rivers attracted these migrants on their journeys between Canadian breeding grounds and wintering areas to our south.
Irrigated croplands and man-made reservoirs were the first developments to alter this pattern, encouraging some of the migrants to settle in for the winter; after all, contrary to popular perception, winters are relatively mild along the Front Range, the product of abundant sunshine, dry air and frequent chinooks. As the human population of the urban corridor exploded over the past several decades, many more lakes, reservoirs, parks and golf courses have made the region even more appealing to Canada geese and some never bothered to return to their homeland. Today, it is estimated that 150,000 Canada geese are permanent residents of the Colorado Front Range and their numbers triple during the colder months when winter migrants arrive.
Human development of the Front Range corridor has clearly impacted the "natural range" of Canada geese and efforts to reverse that pattern are not likely to be successful. Facing few predators (coyotes, fox, human hunters) their attraction to this man-altered environment is sure to make them honorary natives of Colorado. While many humans despise their messy lifestyle, most of us enjoy watching their majestic flights and admire their hardy independence. Perhaps, a century from now, they will be known as Colorado geese, some of which might migrate to Canada for the summer months.
Irrigated croplands and man-made reservoirs were the first developments to alter this pattern, encouraging some of the migrants to settle in for the winter; after all, contrary to popular perception, winters are relatively mild along the Front Range, the product of abundant sunshine, dry air and frequent chinooks. As the human population of the urban corridor exploded over the past several decades, many more lakes, reservoirs, parks and golf courses have made the region even more appealing to Canada geese and some never bothered to return to their homeland. Today, it is estimated that 150,000 Canada geese are permanent residents of the Colorado Front Range and their numbers triple during the colder months when winter migrants arrive.
Human development of the Front Range corridor has clearly impacted the "natural range" of Canada geese and efforts to reverse that pattern are not likely to be successful. Facing few predators (coyotes, fox, human hunters) their attraction to this man-altered environment is sure to make them honorary natives of Colorado. While many humans despise their messy lifestyle, most of us enjoy watching their majestic flights and admire their hardy independence. Perhaps, a century from now, they will be known as Colorado geese, some of which might migrate to Canada for the summer months.
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