Baggies along the Trail

Most dog walkers have fallen in line with social expectations, bagging up their pet's excrement in our neighborhoods, parks and nature preserves.  But for some, that environmentalism is limited to the act of bagging itself; the inconvenience of toting the package back home, or to their vehicle, is beyond their willingness to cooperate.

As a result, we now encounter the plastic baggies and their contents along our sidewalks and trails, doubling the pollution.  One wonders who they assume will collect their gifts to the community; park rangers? roving garbage collectors? fastidious neighbors?

Unfortunately, this behavior characterizes the half-hearted environmentalism that we observe throughout human society.  The level of cooperation and commitment is determined by how much inconvenience one can endure.  Hence our increasingly polluted planet. 

Aurora's Global Fest

Since I was out of town, I missed the 13th Annual Aurora Global Fest, in Aurora, Colorado, last weekend.  Highlighting the cultural traditions of sixty-eight countries, booths and displays introduced visitors to the food, music, dance, clothing and artwork of each society.

Such a celebration of diversity is especially welcome in present-day America, where the Trump Administration tolerates only white, American-born citizens.  One wonders if plain-clothed Ice Agents were patrolling the festival, tasting the cuisine while looking for undocumented immigrants to deport.

I applaud those who plan, fund and organize such international festivals.  They demonstrate both the variability of human culture and the uniformity of our species. 

A Memorable Year

Not much of an NBA fan, I paid only fleeting attention to the recent Championship Tournament.  On the other hand, the frequent mention of the year 1973, when the New York Knicks last won the NBA Championship, never failed to get my attention.

In 1973, I was 23 years old and attending medical school.  A good friend died that year and three others got married, the first in my circle of friends to take the plunge.  As for myself, one relationship was imploding while another was just beginning, a classic formula for emotional turmoil.  Indeed, I must admit that 1973 was the most memorable year in my life.

I suspect most humans have experienced similar years and would guess that they also occurred during those formative years of freedom, between high school graduation and marriage.  After all, intense and lasting memories are seared by strong emotions and that period is replete with episodes of joy and pain. 

Severe Weather on the Plains

From a weather perspective, it is always an adventure to travel across the Great Plains of North America.  This morning, after creeping through heavy rain and dodging thunderstorms in Missouri, I was greeted by a clear blue sky as I crossed into Kansas.  While such an abrupt change is usually encountered when a strong cold front pushes into warm, humid air, the air in Kansas was hot and dry, indicating that I had entered a dome of high pressure.

Indeed, the skies were nearly cloudless until I reached Junction City; from that location, I could see clouds off to the northwest, likely forming along the northern edge of the dome.  Reaching the southern extent of that cloud mass in Salina, I was more captivated by conditions on the ground; widespread damage to road signs, trees and a few ranch buildings looked as if one or more tornadoes had recently raked that city.

While the heat and sunny skies persisted all the way to Hays (my overnight rest stop), the clouds north of my route continued to expand and most of northeastern Kansas is now under a tornado watch; in addition, a line of thunderstorms has formed from southwestern Kansas to the tornado watch zone (erupting along the western edge of the heat dome).  Another spectacular light show is anticipated.

Addendum:  The damage that I witnessed in Salina was due to 113 mph wind gusts associated with severe thunderstorms on June 8. 

Sandstone & Pines

Two nature preserves in the eastern section of The St. Francois Mountains are notable for their exposures of Lamotte sandstone.  Deposited during the Cambrian Period, about 500 million years ago, it is among the oldest sedimentary rocks in Missouri.

At the Pickle Springs Natural Area, east of Farmington, visitors walk on, along and through exposures of Lamotte sandstone (see photo) on a two-mile loop trail.

Farther east, Hawn State Park also lies atop this sandstone and the sandy soil that it generates appeals to native shortleaf pines.  Indeed, this Park is one of the few in Missouri to actively protect stands of these stately trees (see photo), including through the use of controlled burns. 

Hughes Mountain Natural Area

Our first (and hopefully our most strenuous) hike in the St. Francois Mountains was at Hughes Mountain Natural Area, on Route M, southwest of Irondale.  The roundtrip hike was approximately two miles in length and the elevation gain was 380 feet.  While neither stat seems terribly remarkable, there were a number of steep, uneven sections along the way and, after all, we are not youngsters.

On the other hand, we were rewarded with fabulous views from rock outcrops along the route and especially from the broad clearing atop the mountain (see photo).  Precambrian rhyolite dominated those rock exposures.

The journey to Hughes Mountain was rewarding as well.  Our route climbed through forested hill country, studded with attractive homesteads and ranches.  Of course, the small town residents offered their own flavor of backcountry life.  

A Day in Ste. Genevieve

After slogging through heavy rain in St. Louis yesterday, we drove another hour south to Ste. Genevieve, on the Mississippi River floodplain.  Founded by French settlers in 1740, the town had to be moved three miles upstream in 1785 due to severe flooding along the river.

Nevertheless, Ste. Genevieve is the oldest, continuously inhabited town in Missouri and is home to the largest concentration of French Colonial Architecture in the country.  A fine museum introduces visitors to the history of French settlement and the historic section of town offers a pleasing mix of galleries, restaurants, retail establishments, hotels and B&Bs for visitors.  Indeed, we are staying in the Audubon Hotel, named after the famous naturalist who, with a colleague, ran a mercantile store in St. Genevieve in the early 1800s.

The Ste. Genevieve Levee National Wildlife Refuge runs along the Mississippi River floodplain east of the city but trails, other than the levee trail, are not well established at this point.  Today, we'll head into the St. Francois Mountains; details to follow.

 

The St. Francois Mountains

Over the next few days, my wife and I will explore the St. Francois Mountains, in southeast Missouri, eroded from an ancient Precambrian dome of volcanic and intrusive rocks.  Almost 1.5 billion years old, this dome pushed up through the strata of the Ozark Plateau during the Ouachita Orogeny (about 300 million years ago). 

Known for their scenic outcrops of granite and for their rich supply of lead, these Mountains host five Missouri State Parks and are drained by the St. Francis River and its tributaries; this river flows southward into northeast Arkansas before joining the Mississippi north of Helena.  Taum Sauk Mountain, elevation 1772 feet, is both the highest peak in the St. Francois Mountains and the highest point in Missouri.

We will be staying in Ste. Genevieve on the Mississippi River and our adventures will be documented in the next few blog posts.  Hopefully, the weather will cooperate.

A Melanistic Cottontail

While melanistic (black) eastern gray squirrels dominate the squirrel population in some regions of this country, especially near the Great Lakes, melanistic eastern cottontails are rare genetic variants.  Indeed, until this morning, I had never seen one despite more than sixty years of exploring natural habitats.

Driving into Eagle Bluffs Conservation Area, I saw a black rabbit near the side of the road that scurried into the dense vegetation as I approached.  Though escaped or released domestic rabbits account for most black rabbits encountered in America, they retain their docile behavior and are rapidly culled by predators.  This morning's cottontail had the lean figure of a wild rabbit and clearly sensed danger from my advancing pickup.

I hoped the black cottontail might re-emerge for photographic documentation but I gave up after ten minutes or so.  Accepting the fact that I had just witnessed yet another example of nature's fabulous diversity, I moved on.  

The Central American Gyre

From May to June and from September to November, a large, relatively weak zone of low pressure settles over Central America, coinciding with the rainy seasons in that region.  Of little consequence itself, this gyre may interact with tropical waves arriving from the Caribbean or from the South Pacific.

This interaction may produce tropical depressions which, under the right conditions, may develop into tropical storms.  Of course, if wind shear does not intervene, these storms may then become hurricanes, either in the Gulf of Mexico or along the west coast of Central America.

This meteorological sequence is often responsible for Gulf of Mexico tropical storms and hurricanes that develop early and late in the Atlantic Hurricane Season (June to November).  Typically, a tropical depression develops in the southwest Gulf of Mexico and moves northward; if high pressure has settled over the Gulf, suppressing wind shear, the depression becomes a tropical storm or hurricane as it moves across the warm Gulf waters.  According to current forecasts, such a development may occur later this week.  

Prairie Dog Ghettos

During my childhood in Cincinnati, I would often watch nature shows that took the viewer to pristine ecosystems across the country and around the globe.  As I recall, one of these destinations was the vast, shortgrass prairie of the Western U.S., inhabited by bison, pronghorn, rattlesnakes, burrowing owls and, of course, prairie dogs.

Now, more than 60 years later, most of that prairie has succumbed to agriculture and urban sprawl and its wild residents have been domesticated or forced to survive on shrinking plots of grassland.  An up-close reminder of this fact is evident in Metro Denver where I frequently pass small colonies of prairie dogs occupying tiny tracts of roadside habitat, including patches of grass and dirt at some intersections.  One wonders how they survive; indeed, some risk a quick and unnatural death as they dart across busy streets.

While I understand the challenges of coexisting with a wide variety of wildlife, these prairie dog ghettos are disturbing sights, highlighting our unending and reckless "development" of the planet. 

Colorado's Severe Weather Month

As if on cue, a swarm of severe thunderstorms ignited along the Front Range yesterday afternoon, dropping torrential rain and large hail and, in one case, spawning a brief tornado.  Fortunately, our Littleton farm was sparred any damage but we also missed out on the rain.

While severe weather usually begins to decline across the Great Plains and Midwest by early June, it is ramping up in northeast Colorado.  Indeed, tornados are most common during this month, primarily affecting the High Plains of the Colorado-Wyoming-Nebraska Tristate.  Of course, the Front Range urban corridor is not immune to these storms and hail damage can be significant.

How global warming will affect this traditional weather pattern and the Southwest Monsoon that follows remains to be seen.  While the moisture is almost always welcomed, we could do without the powerful winds and large hail that June too often delivers.  

To Be Remembered

Once we are old enough (and mature enough) to understand the finality of death, we begin to consider the concept of remembrance.  Early on, we know that our family and close friends will remember us and, over time, come to understand that we are remembered by others for our unique skills, our personal traits and our impact on society as a whole.

As adults, factors such as celebrity and creativity may significantly increase one's exposure in human society, thereby augmenting the remembrance that they receive.  Of course, this may be a positive or negative remembrance.

Living on in the memories of others is the secular person's afterlife and knowing that their influence has been both personal and societal offers reassurance as death looms.  Unfortunately, those who conclude that their life has been meaningless and/or unappreciated too often resort to violent acts as they bow out, ensuring that they will be remembered in the annals of history.

Addendum: This post has been altered from the original.

Light Show on the Great Plains

Arriving in Hays, Kansas, late yesterday afternoon, I saw a thunderstorm approaching from the south.  After crossing the east side of town, it eventually merged with a large cluster of thunderstorms over Russell, about 25 miles east of Hays.

From my room, I was treated to a broad view of the Great Plains to the northeast and watched as the Russell storms spread northward and eastward.  Once the sun set, the lightning show was spectacular, with some cloud-to-cloud strikes radiating back toward Hays.  Consulting the weather radar, I found that a chain of severe thunderstorms stretched from Wichita, Kansas, to the Black Hills of southwestern South Dakota.  In addition, a mass of storms in northeast Colorado extended the turbulence westward; indeed, as was evident on Flight Aware, cross-country air traffic was funneled north of the Black Hills or south of Wichita.

The light show from this massive band of storms continued late into the evening, well past my usual bedtime.  But one of nature's most awe-inspiring spectacles was well worth a modest loss of sleep. 

 

Trump's Gulags

Of all the outrageous actions and decisions of the Trump Administration, the creation of inhumane, ICE detention centers is surely the most horrific.  Holding immigrants with no history of criminal behavior, they are reported to be overcrowded and filthy; the water is said to be undrinkable, food is rancid and medical care is all but nonexistent.

Furthermore, political representatives are denied access to document the poor conditions and deaths within the centers are not fully investigated.  Meanwhile, new centers are under construction across the country, especially in "Red States" where protests are less likely to occur.

How such horrible treatment can occur in this "democratic" country without condemnation and intervention from both political Parties is beyond belief.  The only possible explanation is the conviction that those held within these gulags are sub-human; after all, they are not white.  

A Refuge by Neglect

Throughout the history of this Blog, I have repeatedly suggested that the establishment of wild borders on one's property is a good way to attract a greater diversity of wildlife.  After all, a variety of native plants is more appealing to regional birds, mammals and other creatures, offering seeds, berries, nuts and vegetation that they prefer to consume; of course, insects are also drawn to such natural oases, providing yet another source of food.

An excellent example of my theory has unfolded across the street from our home, where a neighbor's house has been renovated while its front lawn, destroyed by the building activity, has yet to be replaced.  Now sporting a hodgepodge of native "weeds" and grasses, it has become a popular feeding ground for many local birds; white-tailed deer have also stopped by to munch on the broad mix of plants.

Though unsightly from a typical suburbanite's point of view, I have found this temporary refuge to be interesting.  No doubt, its varied vegetation and "clearings" are of more interest to wildlife than the dense carpet of a manicured lawn.

See also: Lose Some Lawn  

Waders in the Shallows

Returning to Eagle Bluffs Conservation Area this morning, a friend and I found that the water levels have continued to fall and that vast shallows spread out from the central channel and along the primary drainages of the refuge.  Not surprisingly, these conditions attracted a large number of waders (61 great blue herons and 37 great egrets), perhaps the most I have ever observed at this floodplain preserve.

As summer sets in, waterfowl were limited to the resident Canada geese and a lone, male wood duck.  Killdeer were the only "shorebirds" and turkey vultures were the sole raptors.  Dickcissels, the most abundant songbirds, called from the drier grasslands while many summer residents, hidden in the foliage, were identified by their songs; these included yellow-breasted chats, yellow warblers and common yellowthroats.  More conspicuous were indigo buntings, fish crows and mixed flocks of swallows.  A single cormorant, finding the water too shallow for diving, flew across the refuge, heading for deeper fishing grounds.

Having recovered from a prolonged drought, this wetland refuge must now rely on periods of heavy rain to sustain its rich ecosystem.  Of course, human visitors, ourselves included, hope that summer storms regularly douse the floodplain. 

Ox-Eye Daisy

By mid May, the fields, meadows and highway medians of Missouri are adorned with beautiful swaths of ox-eye daisies.  A native of Europe and Asia, this perennial wildflower spreads by seeds and by rhizomes, explaining both its tenacity and its ability to spread.

Indeed, this wildflower may appear in a wide variety of habitats,  including lawns, abandoned fields and open woodlands.  Its presence in pastures may degrade their nutritional value and, on dairy farms, the daisies may taint the flavor of the milk.

But, for most of us, these "invasive" plants beautify the landscape.  After all, we humans introduced them.