A Gift from the North

A deep and broad atmospheric trough (produced by a dip in the jet stream) is allowing cool, Canadian air to flow southward.  Extending from the Rockies to the East Coast, this trough will bring the first convincing period of autumn for many Americans, especially for those in the Southeast.

Here in central Missouri, we expect our first freeze of the season by midweek and will experience temperatures below average for mid October.  Bringing clear skies and relief from the heat, humidity and recurrent storms, it is a welcome development indeed.

In no hurry to leave, the trough is bringing back the October of old and may just nudge migrant waterfowl southward.  Time to hit the trails to enjoy the colorful foliage, fresh air and energized wildlife! 

Vote for Kindness & Empathy

Forget for a moment the substantial policy differences between Vice President Harris and citizen Donald Trump.  Ignore, if you can, the wide gulf between the candidates on human rights, environmental protection, gun control, foreign policy, immigration, social justice and economic fairness.  Judge them purely on the basis of their character.

How do they compare when it comes to decency, kindness and empathy?  Do we not want a President with those qualities?  Do we want to be represented by someone who demonstrates no interest in or concern for his fellow human beings?  Do we want a President incapable of empathy?

I think the choice is clear at the Presidential level on down.  Vote Democratic!  

A Dry Refuge for Waterfowl

Arriving at Eagle Bluffs Conservation Area, in the Missouri River Valley, on this warm, sunny morning, I noticed that the annual signs are up, advising visitors that the southern half of the refuge will be closed from October 15 to March 1 to provide undisturbed wintering habitat for waterfowl.  At the same time, I found that this floodplain refuge is drier than I have ever seen it; I suspect the migrating geese and ducks will take note as well.

I did observe 6 northern shovelers and 6 pied-billed grebes on my 7-mile tour, hardly the throngs that one might expect in mid October.  Indeed, turkey vultures and red-winged blackbirds dominated the scene, not exactly members of the waterfowl clan; a lone, immature bald eagle was feeding on carrion in a dry crop field and a sharp-shinned hawk strafed the floodplain, likely hoping to pick off a blackbird.

Per reports that I have received, the dry landscape is intentional, necessary for the health of native wetland plants.  No doubt that is true but the waterfowl will, for now, go elsewhere.  Maybe next year. 

Finally: A Spectacular Aurora

After years of seeking the Aurora borealis across northern latitudes and a less than impressive viewing in Colorado last May, my wife and I enjoyed a spectacular display in central Missouri last evening.  Having learned that the Aurora would be especially active for the next few days, we headed up to the flat Glaciated Plain of the Midwest, about 25 miles northeast of Columbia, to escape the city lights.

Finding a secluded spot in the open cropland, we parked along a graveled road.  The sky was clear though the half-moon produced a mild haze.  About an hour after sunset, a dome of faint light, resembling a bank of clouds, stretched across the northern horizon and we began to dread a repeat of our Colorado experience.  Then, after another half-hour of anticipation, curtains of green and broad plumes of red appeared in the sky (photo by Darcy Folzenlogen).

We enjoyed the spectacle for another hour before heading home.  Our long pursuit of the Northern Lights had finally been successful, not in the wilds of the Great North but in the Heartland of America where we have spent most of our lives. 

Milton and the Front

Before Hurricane Milton made landfall, at Siesta Key, Florida, its outer bands had produced almost forty supercell tornados across southern portions of the State.  Indeed, damage from those storms might exceed that produced by the hurricane core itself.

As Milton reached the Gulf Coast, it was interacting with a front that dipped across Northern Florida, producing torrential rain on the north side of the hurricane (including the Tampa-St. Petersburg area).  The most intense winds of the eye-wall remained south of that Metro Area and the strongest storm surge hit the coastline south of Sarasota.

News of damage on Longboat Key may take a while to emerge but our primary risk may have come from surge off Sarasota Bay as well as the high winds of the eye-wall.  Overnight,  Hurricane Milton has moved northeastward along the front and across the Florida peninsula, unleashing heavy rain and destructive winds before heading into the Atlantic. 

In Milton's Path

We purchased our condo on Longboat Key, Florida, over 20 years ago; even then, the building was almost 40 years old.  When we made that leap, we understood that owning property on a barrier island carries a significant risk.  This week, it appears that risk has become a reality as Hurricane Milton, currently a Category 4 storm, barrels toward that narrow strip of sand.

A storm surge of 15 feet is currently predicted and our condo complex may end up in Sarasota Bay.  Though global warming was receiving limited attention back in the early 2000s, we now know that building on barrier islands is pure folly; even if the structure might withstand severe storms, access, utilities and nearby amenities may be lost for extended periods of time.  Indeed, there has been a general exodus from low lying coastal areas of Florida as both extreme weather and insurance rates increase dramatically.  Only the very wealthy are still buying property in these high risk zones.

Whatever level of damage is inflicted by Milton, we won't be visiting Longboat Key anytime soon.  Nature may just reclaim the site.

Summer's Last Gasp?

Way back and not so long ago, October was a month of mild, sunny days and clear, cool nights.  That pleasant weather, combined with the colorful foliage, made it the favorite month for many of us in the Northern Hemisphere, especially for those who relish outdoor activity.

Today, thanks to a dome of high pressure, our afternoon high may reach 90 degrees F in central Missouri and highs in the 80s F will dominate the coming week; it feels more like late August than early October.  While we can hope that this is summer's last gasp, our warming climate may push "typical October weather" well into November.

In concert with heat across the Heartland, another tropical disturbance is forming in the western Gulf of Mexico, forecast to spread torrential rains and destructive winds across the Florida Peninsula in the coming week.  Help to mitigate climate change and its severe weather patterns: Vote Democratic! 

Self Image & Memory

The image that we have of ourself is based on our memories, those related to our personal behavior, our relationships, our successes and our failures.  Of course, our self image is also influenced by early childhood experiences (which we cannot recall) and by suppressed memories (too painful to dredge up).

Then again, studies suggest that our memories are malleable, subject to alteration when repeatedly called up and re-stored.  Nevertheless, our self image is governed by this unreliable script of vague events and interactions from our past.

Do we really know ourself?  Perhaps more importantly: do we judge ourself fairly?  

Excursion into the Past

Looking for a new natural area to explore, my wife discovered Carrington Pits Recreation Area in the Mark Twain National Forest, southwest of Fulton, Missouri.  Carrington was a coal mining community that was destroyed by a tornado in the late 1920s.  In honor of that town, Carrington Pits Recreation Area was established by the Forest Service, centered on a chain of lakes and ponds that occupy the old mining pits.

After zigzagging across cattle country on graveled roads, we arrived at a small pullout that was once the entry point for the site.  From there, an overgrown jeep road leads through the forest; a one mile hike along that path brought us to the secluded lakes, where we spooked small flocks of wood ducks as we approached.  Remnants of the Recreation Area, which was initially established in the 1930s, included weathered and splintered fishing decks, several picnic tables and an abandoned toilet hut.  Clearly, the site has not been utilized (at least in any official capacity) for quite some time.

Nevertheless, it was a peaceful excursion into the past, serenaded by forest birds and greeted by swaths of wildflowers.  Though I tend to root for Nature and her power of reclamation, it was sad to see that this tranquil spot, once enjoyed by our fellow humans, has likely been a victim of fiscal prioritization. 

Problems are Relative

We have all experienced problems in our life, most minor and some serious.  At times, they seem to arrive in rapid succession.

Fortunately, even serious problems can usually be addressed by a cadre of professionals or service personnel and management plans are rapidly designed; a game plan always reduces the stress of a problem, no matter how serious it may be.  But when problems arise suddenly and unexpectedly within an environment where assistance is not readily available, they can be overwhelming.

Such is the case in Asheville, North Carolina, where the entire community (homes, businesses, utilities, transportation) were destroyed or incapacitated by flooding.  Help must arrive from beyond its confines and an overall management plan will be slow to emerge.  Even a massive influx of funding and volunteers cannot rapidly reverse the damage wrought by such a powerful storm.  Climate change is a problem that will put all others in perspective.

The Short Life of Lake Powell

Named for John Wesley Powell, a geologist who explored the Green and Colorado Rivers for the U.S. in 1869, Lake Powell filled Glen Canyon after construction of the Glen Canyon Dam in the early 1960s.  Opposed by environmentalists, including Edward Abbey, the Dam was built for water storage, hydroelectric power and recreation.

After reaching a maximum volume in 1983, the reservoir began to shrink in the late 1990s as climate change reduced mountain snowpack and increased evaporation.  In concert, sedimentation from the Colorado and San Juan Rivers was filling its basin from below.  As the lake level continues to fall and the upper feeder streams resurface, energy production will cease and Lake Powell will reach the "dead pool" state. Unfortunately, since adequate deep release tunnels were not included in the dam's design, flow through the Grand Canyon (just downstream) will be greatly diminished.  A current proposal, not yet fully endorsed, is to create new channels through the adjacent bedrock before sediment fills Glen Canyon and its riverine ecosystem is forever degraded.

For a concise and readable history of this saga, I strongly recommend Life after Dead Pool, by Zak Podmore (the source for this post).  He deftly weaves the political, industrial, hydrologic, cultural, geological and ecological elements of the Lake Powell debacle.  My thanks to a good friend for introducing me to this fascinating book.  

Aster Season

Amidst the yellow swaths of sunflowers and and goldenrod are clumps of aster, usually purplish or bluish in color.  Though no longer included in the Aster genus (now limited to Eurasian species), New World asters are represented by more than 100 species in North America.

Not keen on scientific labeling, I, like most nature lovers, appreciate asters for their beauty and for their late summer and early autumn blooms, an important resource for pollinators; the clumps in our yard (photo) have been loaded with a wide variety of bees and butterflies.

Missouri is home to 24 species of New World asters, almost all of which are perennials.  Like other wildflowers, they do just fine without human supervision.  

Beware: Falling Walnuts!

It's that time of year in central Missouri.  Black walnuts are falling to the ground and, this year, they are especially plentiful.  The impact of the walnuts as they strike fences, roofs, decks and driveways produces a significant "thud" and I suspect an unwary human might be bruised (or worse) if struck.

Of course, our gray and fox squirrels have been gnawing at their shells for the past week or so, leaving piles of the outer pulp drying in the sun.  The sound and smell of their activity are welcome signs of the season.

There are still plenty of walnuts in the large trees that line our backyard but we'll leave them for the wildlife.  Kicking them off the lawn or walkways is exercise enough. 

Appalachian Flooding

Following a long period of drought in the Appalachians of northern Georgia, North Carolina and eastern Tennessee, the remnants of Hurricane Helene dropped 12-24 inches of rain on the region, leading to historic and catastrophic flooding.  Of course, the major impact has been along the primary streams and rivers of that mountainous terrain.

This alternating pattern of drought and flood is occurring across the globe as our climate warms.  While coastal damage from wind and storm surge is the immediate concern when hurricanes and typhoons come ashore, inland flooding, often far from that landfall, has become a significant complication.

As the remnants of Helene spin above the Ohio River Valley, another storm appears to be developing in the Caribbean.  Its future path is not yet known but its wrath will likely be felt well beyond the pristine beaches of the Gulf Coast.

 

Helene takes aim on Atlanta

As Hurricane Helene churns northward above the Gulf of Mexico hot tub, residents along the Florida Gulf Coast are taking action, boarding up homes and heading for higher ground.  While devastation along the coast is expected, more individuals will likely be impacted in cities farther inland.

Both Tallahassee and Atlanta are in the "cone of uncertainty" and Helene's forward movement is rapid.  As a result, she will not weaken quickly as she comes ashore with her high winds and abundant tropical moisture.  Both of these cities can expect wind damage and extensive flooding.

Worse yet, Atlanta will receive significant precipitation from a cold front that arrives prior to Helene.  At least ten inches of rain is expected to fall across that concrete jungle over the next few days.  Once again, our warming climate is having an impact on areas far from the shore. 

A Rainy Morning at Eagle Bluffs

Though we associate autumn with sunny skies and dry air, low clouds and rain greeted us at Eagle Bluffs Conservation Area this morning.  Facing poor conditions for birding, we toured the floodplain anyway, knowing that most songbirds would be undercover and out of sight.

We did encounter a fair number of blue-winged teal and a small flock of northern shovelers.  Nineteen pied-billed grebes were scattered along the central channel and a pair of American coot mingled with the ducks.  Six great blue herons, always stoic, stood along the soggy shorelines while two loners, an osprey and a belted kingfisher, did their part to reward our visit.

Due to the weather, our total species count was less than half of what we would generally expect in late September.  Nevertheless, a morning at this fabulous refuge is always a delight; if nothing else, the rain made it look like a vast wetland, an image that has been lost to cultivation in recent years. 

Blue Jay Mystery

The Front Range urban corridor stretches along the western edge of blue jay breeding territory in North America.  West of here, in the foothills and mountains, they are replaced scrub jays, Steller's jays and gray jays.

Since we purchased our Littleton farm, in 1990, blue jays have been common visitors on the property though I have never observed nesting activity here; on bird counts of the farm, a couple of blue jays would generally make the list.  During my current visit, however, blue jays have been especially common, their raucous calls and musical trills echoing across the farm; indeed, their numbers have been second only to house finches (which have long been our most abundant avian resident).  Since some blue jays do migrate southward for the winter, our current visitors might reflect that fact (though they have stayed for almost two weeks). 

Like many songbirds, blue jays form flocks during the colder months but their numbers here seem exceptional compared with past years.  My guess is that this influx is an adaptation to suburban sprawl and "development" in Metro Denver, forcing the jays to gather in or near the dwindling areas with large trees: at parks, along greenbelts and near the few old farms that still exist. 

The Dehumanization of Immigrants

Thrashing about for issues that will save his effort to stay out of jail, Donald Trump has settled on the fear of immigrants.  He promises to deport most of them and to shut off immigration from "infested countries."  Of course, he and his running mate have stoked fear and chaos in Springfield, Ohio, claiming that Haitian immigrants are stealing and eating local pets.

Trump and his far-right legions want a white, Christian nation.  Though we are a country of immigrants, they ignore our past and focus on fear-mongering, using isolated events to suggest that "vermin" are pouring across our "open borders."

This dehumanization of immigrants is spawning threats and violence throughout the country and poisoning the fabric of American society.  How anyone could support the re-election of this horrible human being is stupefying; one can only conclude that racism is alive and well in the U.S., once a beacon of freedom across the globe.  Vote Democratic!