Trump's Environmental Ignorance

As almost 900 wildfires rage across the vast northern forests of Canada, Pacific storm systems direct some of the smoke into the Upper Midwest and Northeastern U.S.  Of course, this angers Our Dear Leader and it is one of the reasons that he threatens to impose a 50% tariff on our neighbor.  In his opinion, the Canadian government should be doing more to control the wildfires.

Our warming climate is primarily responsible for this widespread disaster, reducing snowfall and rain across the Great Northwoods.  Unfortunately, Trump and his Cabinet do not accept the "hoax" of climate change, choosing to cut emissions regulations, withdraw funds from green energy projects and encourage the rebirth of coal-fueled power plants.

Of all his disastrous policies imposed upon our country, Trump's disdain for environmentalism may have the greatest long-term effect.  Hopefully, the private sector will resist this folly and ignore his repeal of established environmental laws.  After all, they know by now that a Blue Wave is coming in November. 

A Cackling Crew

Heading out to run a few errands this morning, I encountered a small flock of cackling geese on our property.  Significantly smaller, less noisy and far less aggressive than their larger cousins (Canada geese), cackling geese breed on the Arctic tundra of Alaska and Canada and are represented by four subspecies.

Unlike many of the Canadas, they are purely winter residents along the Front Range urban corridor and will soon head back to the Arctic.  On the other hand, they often mingle with their noisy cousins and are usually seen grazing with them on open grasslands or resting on one of our many lakes.

Perhaps this morning's crew needed a bit of solitude and I am pleased that they chose the relative seclusion of our farm.  They seemed unbothered by my presence and are welcome to hang out as long as they wish.  So far from their homeland, their visit is an honor. 

Smoke Signals

Smoke from the Canadian wildfires, having drifted south through the Midwest over the past few days, has now reached the Southeastern States.  More than reducing visibility, the smoke has produced poor air quality which is of special concern to those who work outdoors or who have chronic lung disease.

While there is nothing positive about this invasion of smoke from a health point of view, it does call attention to the distant devastation in Canada, an environmental catastrophe that might otherwise go unnoticed in the U.S.  Furthermore, it is a clear signal that ecosystems across the globe, including man-made habitats, are interconnected.  We cannot ignore the health of any environment (marine or terrestrial) without suffering the consequences.

Those who deny climate change need to personally experience its effects, whether it be via floods, hurricanes, drought or wildfires to give them pause.  Hopefully, this invasion of smoke will send a clear message and serve to change their misguided attitude. 

Clipper Dynamics

Alberta Clippers are low pressure systems that originate in the Canadian Province of Alberta and rapidly drop southeastward across the Upper Midwest, Great Lakes region and Northeastern U.S.  Due to their rapid movement, they are generally not associated with significant amounts of snow except for lake-effect squalls along the Great Lakes, high elevation snow down the spine of the Appalachians and coastal snow once the counter-clockwise winds of the storm pull in Atlantic moisture; these onshore winds may also lash the shoreline with powerful waves.

South and west of the low pressure center, strong north winds drag frigid, Arctic air southward.  Last night, these backside winds shook the treetops and rattled windows here in central Missouri.  By this morning, despite bright sunshine and calm conditions, the outside temperature was 15 degrees F.

Since these Clippers depart as rapidly as they arrive, warmer air soon moves in from the west.  We expect afternoon highs near 60 degrees F this weekend.  

Landlocked Salmon

On our recent roadtrip to New England and Nova Scotia, we crossed the Salmon River in New York that was clearly flowing into Lake Ontario; the river rises on the Tug Hill Plateau east of the Lake.  Having always associated salmon with marine environments, I was intrigued and did some research.

In the Northeast U.S. and Eastern Canada, landlocked salmon are a subspecies of the Atlantic Salmon, having become trapped in freshwater lakes during the Pleistocene, when glaciers altered the regional hydrology.  Landlocked Atlantic Salmon were first discovered in Maine but native populations were later found in Lake Ontario and Lake Champlain as well.  Unlike marine salmon species, these salmon spend most of their lives in freshwater lakes, ascending feeder streams to spawn.  The native populations dwindled over time (due to pollution, dams, overfishing and other human influences) but have been sustained through stocking programs.

Landlocked salmon are also found in the Pacific Northwest, where similar geologic events likely played a role in their evolution and where fisheries now introduce them into freshwater ecosystems.

 

The Elusive Moose

Throughout our travels across New England and Southeastern Canada, we saw many references to moose.  Road signs warned of potential collisions and a host of streams, lakes, mountains, refuges, parks, towns, shops, taverns and beverages were named in honor of those elusive creatures.

Though we drove through "moose habitat" in early morning or late daylight hours (when moose are especially active), we never caught sight of these large, northern herbivores.  Were it not for convincing evidence on nature videos, one might think moose are in a league with Sasquatch!

Of course, I jest.  While I have observed moose in the more open landscapes of the American West, they are certainly hard to locate in the dense vegetation of the Northeast (if they do exist!). 

Brier Island

South of Digby, Nova Scotia, a peninsula extends southwestward, broken by two passes into islands at its western extent.  At the western end of this chain is Brier Island, the westernmost point in Nova Scotia.  The peninsula and its islands are separated from the mainland by St. Mary's Bay while they represent the southeastern shore of the vast Bay of Fundy.

Our whale-watching adventure, again cancelled due to high winds, was to have originated at Brier Island so we decided to explore the island itself.  Our best options proved to be graveled roads that lead to its two lighthouses, overlooking the Bay of Fundy at the west and northeast ends of the island.  Seascapes and coastal wetlands at the western lighthouse were especially scenic (photo) and both seabirds and migrant raptors (sharp-shinned hawks and broad-winged hawks) were abundant.  Unfortunately, no whales were observed in the turbulent waters of the Bay.

Tomorrow morning we will leave Nova Scotia via a two-hour ferry trip across the Bay of Fundy to Saint John, New Brunswick; from there we will drive eastward to re-enter the U.S. at the Maine border.  If time permits, we hope to visit Acadia National Park before our long journey back to Missouri.

A Day in Halifax

For the first time on our roadtrip, we spent a day in an urban center and our decision to visit Halifax was pleasantly rewarding.  Perched on the edge of a natural harbor, Halifax is an attractive and walker-friendly city.  

Though it welcomes both freighters and cruise ships, it is of modest size and easily explored.  Parking near its center, we spent the day touring its outdoor highlights; the first of these was the fine City Gardens, harboring a pond, sculptures and an excellent variety of floral and plant displays.  Our second stop was the city's historic Citadel, a British naval fortress during the 18th and 19th Centuries that overlooks Halifax and its waterways.

Much of our day was spent along the waterfront, where an attractive boardwalk leads to wharfs, shops, restaurants and recreation sites.  A visit to the Maritime Museum, accessed from the boardwalk, was interesting and educational though a bit crowded on this mild, sunny weekend.  Should you have the opportunity, I strongly recommend a visit to this historic yet inviting coastal city. 

Bras d'Or Lake

Bras d'Or Lake (photo) is actually a large, multi-armed estuary in central Cape Breton Island that has two natural connections to the Atlantic Ocean at its northeastern extent.  Though several rivers and numerous creeks drain into the "lake," it is subject to tidal flow and thus has brackish water.  A man-made canal, used to facilitate shipping, also connects Bras d'Or Lake to the ocean at its southeastern end.

Almost 1100 square kilometers in size, the estuary is bordered by glacial drumlins in its northwestern region.  The variable salinity of its water greatly augments the diversity of its wetlands and resident wildlife and its varied ecosystem has received designation as a UNESCO Biosphere Preserve.

While our exposure to Bras d"Or Lake was strictly from adjacent roadways, knowing that this vast estuary is being protected for the welfare of our planet and the benefit of future generations was rewarding enough. 

Atlantic Coast Trails of Cape Breton

On our last day in Cape Breton, we took two hikes along the Atlantic Coast, where the waves are more powerful and the seascapes are more dramatic.  The first was the Middle Head Trail, which extends eastward along a peninsula, east of the Keltic Resort and north of Cape Smokey.

This undulating trail offers multiple views across the bays to its north and south and culminates at a rocky overlook (photo).  A popular hike, especially for patrons of the resort, it is not ideal for those seeking solitude.  Nevertheless, this trail officially lies within the boundary of the National Park.

Our second hike was along the Coastal Trail of the Cape Breton Highlands National Park, which leads out to spectacular rock formations, molded by the relentless force of the sea (photo).  At one location, the power of rushing water has carved a deep, narrow canyon into the coastal cliffs.

Both trails offer excellent vantage points for whale watching (though not successful today) and for watching sea birds; northern gannets and cormorants were abundant and we also observed a few common loons.  Tomorrow we head south to Halifax, where we will spend the next two days. 

Across the Top of Cape Breton

What do you do if weather conditions cancel your whale-watching adventure?  We chose to drive to the top of the broad plateau that is the central landscape of Cape Breton Highlands National Park and take a walk in the rain.  On the positive side, a sign warned of moose in the area and the trail led to a scenic, backcountry lake (photo).  Though we did not encounter any of those large, northern herbivores, we did see their tracks!

We then crossed to the Atlantic side of Cape Breton, setting our sights on White Point, a peninsula of tundra-like landscape that offers spectacular seascapes (photo).  There we encountered a bald eagle, cormorants, northern gannets, common eiders and white-winged scoters.  Despite a prolonged vigil, we did not see the tell-tale spouting of whales.

We now begin our journey down the east coast of Nova Scotia.  Reports will be filed over the next few days.. 

West Coast of Cape Breton Island

It was a cool, rainy morning on Cape Breton Island but, upon arriving at Inverness, on its west coast, a brief respite was granted.  We took advantage of that break in the rain to hike along the town's shoreline boardwalk, returning on the beach (photo).

Since the rain bands were moving off to the northeast, we headed south to Port Hood.  There, at the city park, a boardwalk leads out between scenic wetlands (photo) and the beach, ending at a sandy spit.  A large flock of great black-backed gulls lounged on a secluded stretch of the shore.

Tomorrow we go whale watching, scheduled to depart from Pleasant Bay, farther up the coast.  A report on that experience will follow.

Crossing to Nova Scotia

Having spent the night in Charlottetown, Prince Edward Island, we drove to the National Park on the north shore of the island.  There we enjoyed a pleasant walk along its broad, sandy beach (photo) until it was time to catch a ferry to Nova Scotia.

That ride, across the calm Gulf of St. Lawrence, was just as relaxing.  Gulls and cormorants were abundant on the open water, joined by a fair number of northern gannets.  We also saw a dozen or so harbor seals as we approached the dock.

A two-hour drive through forested hills brought us to a small coastal town in Cape Breton, which will serve as home base for the next two days.  Over the next week, we hope to explore most of Nova Scotia.  Details to follow. 

Just Photos from New Brunswick

There is an old saying that "a picture is worth a thousand words."  In the spirit of that statement, here are 3000+ words on the coast of New Brunswick, Canada.

                                         Bay of Fundy from Irving Nature Park in Saint John.

Shepody National Wildlife Area

Hopewell Rocks

 

Nova Scotia Bound

After attending a family wedding in Cincinnati, my wife and I set off for Nova Scotia today, heading northeastward through Ohio, crossing the northwest tip of Pennsylvania and then driving eastward through New York.  There we will visit the Adirondacks and the Thousand Islands region of the St. Lawrence River and then cross northern New England.

In eastern Maine, we plan to wind up the Atlantic Coast before entering Canada.  Much of our road trip will involve a journey through southern New Brunswick, Nova Scotia, Cape Breton Island and Prince Edward Island, all new territory for me.

Our first stop was at Letchworth State Park, in western New York, which harbors "The Grand Canyon of the East."  To be more specific, this scenic gorge (see photo) was sculpted by the Genesee River as it flows NNE from northwestern Pennsylvania to Lake Ontario at Rochester.  The walls of the gorge are composed of Carboniferous and Devonian strata of the Appalachian Plateau.  Three scenic waterfalls along the Genesee also grace the Park.  More details on our road trip over the next two weeks.

Addendum: Hurricane Lee may alter our plans; stay tuned.  

Canadian Travel Warning

Canada, our good neighbor to the north, has issued a travel advisory to its citizens.  One might think this is related to the ongoing wildfires but that is not the case.

Rather, Canada is warning members of its LGBTQ community that it may not be safe to travel to the United States.  America, Land of the Free, has demonstrated hostility toward LGBTQ persons in many regions of the country.  Indeed, one might wonder if there are any areas that are truly safe.

Of course, Canada should also advise persons of color and non-Christians to be cautious in the U.S.   Thanks to The Religious Right, White Supremacists and the Gun Lobby, public safety is no longer guaranteed for many of our citizens. 

North Atlantic Currents

Reading Migrations, a novel by Charlotte McConaghy (and a gift from my son), I was moved to review the oceanic currents of the North Atlantic.  Long known to affect regional climate, marine life populations and ship traffic, these rivers in the sea are the product of Earth's rotation.

At the Davis Strait, the Baffin Island and West Greenland currents merge to form the Labrador Current which hugs the eastern coast of Labrador as it flows to the SSE.  Nearing Newfoundland, it bifurcates to enclose that scenic island Province and then continues along the coasts of Nova Scotia and New England, fueling the marine ecosystems of that region.  In concert, the Gulf Stream develops in the Florida Strait and sweeps its warm waters northeastward, producing a relatively mild climate in Iceland, the British Isles and the western coast of Europe (as far south as the Canary Islands of Northern Africa).  Where these two major currents merge, fog, stormy weather and turbulent seas threaten trans-Atlantic shipping, not to mention the icebergs carried south by the Labrador Current.

The novel referenced above is set in the future, after global warming has severely impacted the flora and fauna of our planet.  Marine scientists currently expect climate change to markedly diminish the benefits of the Labrador Current, augmenting the decimation of fish populations in the North Atlantic, already threatened by over-fishing and pollution.

Belle Isle, Canada

Having discussed Landsat Island in my last post, I would be remiss not to mention the spectacular view of Belle Isle that we enjoyed farther down the Canadian Coast.  Named by the French explorer Jaques Cartier, this elongated island guards the northern entrance to the Gulf of St. Lawrence, known as the Strait of Belle Isle.  Geologically, Belle Isle represents the northern end of the Appalachians.

Oriented NE to SW, Belle Isle lies between the coasts of Labrador and Newfoundland; it is approximately 10 miles long and up to 3 miles wide.  While the Strait offers the most direct shipping route between the Great Lakes and Europe, its waters are characterized by treacherous, intersecting currents, strong tides and seasonal ice floes.  Since the mid 1800s, eight lighthouses have been constructed on Belle Isle, the latest in 1901 at its northeast tip; since the lights and foghorns are now operated remotely, the island has been turned over to its wild residents, naturally equipped to endure its harsh climate.

Our flight took us just east of Belle Isle and I snapped this photo from 30,000 feet.  Once again, when it comes to appreciating landscapes, there is nothing better than air travel.

Landsat Island

Returning from Scotland two weeks ago, I had a window seat on the right side of the aircraft.  Unfortunately, clouds obscured most of Scotland and Ireland as well as most of the North Atlantic.  As we approached Labrador, however, the cloud cover began to dissipate and my first sight of land was of a tiny island in the Labrador Sea.

Made visible by a white rim of waves crashing along its shores, the island was far off the mainland with no other islands in sight.  Based on research since returning home, I found that I had seen Landsat Island, the most eastern parcel of Canadian Territory.  About half the size of a football field, it was first discovered as recently as 1973, when the Landsat I satellite uncovered geographic details theretofore unseen.  Later verified by scientists arriving by boat and helicopter, the island remains uninhabited and its geology has not been assessed (though it is suspected to be a remnant from the rifting of Greenland from North America and Europe, some 30 million years ago).

Since the Labrador Sea is usually locked in ice during the winter months and since cloud cover is often extensive there during the warmer months, the tiny island had gone unnoticed until the era of satellites greatly enhanced our appreciation of Earth's surface features.  I was certainly very fortunate to catch a glimpse of that lonely speck of rock.  

Pacific Ranges of British Columbia

On our flight from Ketchikan to Seattle last week, we crossed over an area of British Columbia with spectacular ranges, massive ice sheets, glaciers and tortuous fjords.  This was the Pacific Ranges Province of the Coastal Mountains of North America, the southernmost in British Columbia.

Harboring Mt. Waddington (13,186 feet), the highest summit in British Columbia, and four Temperate Zone Ice Sheets (the largest on the planet), it is a beautiful landscape created by tectonic collision, subduction volcanism, glacial erosion, copious precipitation and the interaction of land and sea.  A maze of rivers and inlets dissect the terrain, best appreciated from an aircraft.

Sparsely populated, the Pacific Ranges Province, extending northwestward from Vancouver, is actually comprised of thirteen primary mountain ranges and almost as many subranges.  It is bounded on the east by the Interior Plateau of British Columbia and, on the west, by the numerous islands and channels of the Inside Passage.