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.