Just House Sparrows

Casual backyard birders know them as those little brown birds that crowd the feeder, aggressively denying access to competitors. Avid, experienced birders know that they are "just house sparrows," prolific and alien residents of our cities, suburbs and farmlands.

Actually members of the weaver family, these common birds were introduced to North America from Europe and, to say the least, have adapted well to our natural and man-made environments; though they look and act like our native sparrows, they have shorter legs and thicker bills. Rather dull in plumage and too abundant to interest veteran bird watchers, they are the beneficiaries of farmers and sympathetic suburbanites, who provide them with waste grain, bread crumbs, millet and other commercial bird seed.

While these immigrants have messy nesting habits and compete with native birds for natural food, one must admire their hardiness and adaptability. And, when it comes to their basic physiology and anatomy, they are just as interesting as any other bird species. But looks, habits and country of origin have a lot to do with acceptance, just as occurs in human society.

Merging Lows

Light snow has developed in central Missouri this afternoon as a low pressure trough has dropped down from the north, dragging a pocket of cold air in its wake. Sitting over the mid Mississippi Valley, this low is pulling warm, moist air up from the south and lifting it over the cold air to its north and west. Falling through a thick blanket of subfreezing atmosphere, the precipitation is reaching the ground as snow; since the ground is relatively warm, little accumulation is expected.

Meanwhile, a stronger low is swirling over the Panhandle of Florida, bringing heavy rains to the Southeast. As this low moves to the northeast and our current storm moves to the east, the two systems will merge off the Southeast Coast. Since cold air will drop behind the Midwest low, a cold front will pass through the Mid Atlantic region just as the the storms combine, setting the stage for heavy snow from Virginia to New York.

As with all of these weather events, the track of the heavy snowfall will depend upon the relative positions of the cold front and the new, combined low. If the latter churns slowly to the northeast, paralleling the coast, significant snow will blanket the urban corridor, from Washington, D.C., to New York; if, on the other hand, it's course is more north or more east, the swath of heavy snow will shift accordingly. Either way, its going to look a lot like Christmas across the Mid Atlantic States.

Geology of Big Bend

Protected as a National Park in 1944, the Big Bend of West Texas harbors one of the best concentrations of geologic formations on the planet. Spanning 500 million years of Earth's history, these rock layers represent the last three chapters of geologic time: the Paleozoic, Mesozoic and Cenozoic Eras.

In the early Paleozoic, some 500 million years ago (MYA), a seaway curved into the south-central region of North America, from Mexico to the latitude of Oklahoma and Arkansas. Over the following 200 million years, this shallow arm of the sea filled with sand, mud and gravel which hardened into layers of sandstone, shale and conglomerate rock. When North America and South America collided during the assembly of Pangea, 300-270 MYA, these sediments were lifted and folded into the Ancestral Ouachitas, which have since eroded into relatively low ridges across this region; stumps of the ancient mountains represent the oldest rocks in Big Bend National Park. About 135 MYA, a broad sea cut across North America, from eastern Mexico to northwest Canada, covering what is now the High Plains and Rocky Mountain corridor; after depositing thick layers of limestone, this Cretaceous Sea retreated, leaving younger sandstones and mudstones (with their cargo of dinosaur and marine life fossils) atop the limestone. The Cretaceous limestone now forms towering cliffs along the Rio Grande River and is the primary component of Big Bend's Deadhorse Range.

Following the Laramide Orogeny (Rocky Mountain uplift, 65 MYA), volcanism developed in the Big Bend region and occurred intermittently from the Eocene to the Miocene (from 42 to 22 MYA). The earliest eruptions formed the Christmas Mountains, in the northwest area of the Park, while later volcanism formed the Chisos Mountains, which include Big Bend's highest point, Emory Peak (7832 feet). Further uplift of the Mountain West during the Miocene has stretched the crust between Big Bend and the Colorado Plateau, triggering formation of the Rio Grande Rift and producing fault-block ranges across West Texas and eastern New Mexico. Finally, heavy precipitation during the Pleistocene molded the varied strata of Big Bend and the dry climate of the Holocene has served to protect and highlight the Park's geologic wonders.

Polar Plunge

A dome of cold, dry air has dropped into the Heartland, bringing a morning low of 14 degrees F to central Missouri. Across the Midwest, temperatures range from the teens to 20 below zero, with dew points from the single digits to near 30 below. Sunny skies accompany the dome but the low angle of the winter sun produces little warmth.

Along the southern edge of this dome, from east Texas to the Florida Panhandle, a clash with warm, humid air is producing heavy rain and flooding. Dew points across this boundary rise by 50 degrees in some areas, from the mid teens in Arkansas in the mid sixties along the Gulf Coast. As the dense, cold air knifes below the warm, soupy air, the latter is forced to rise, dropping its temperature below the dew point and triggering the heavy rain. Since the boundary is stationary, this precipitation continues to fall over the same areas and flooding results.

A milder, Pacific high will nudge this dome to the northeast over the next few days and the Midwest should return to more seasonal conditions. But, from now until mid March, these polar outbreaks will invade the Heartland on a regular basis.

December Sunset

A few days ago, driving south across the flat glacial plain of Illinois, we watched the sun set behind a white sea. The retreating winter storm had spread a few inches of snow on the fields that stretched away to the Illinois River and its backside winds sent ground blizzards across the bleak landscape.

Less than two weeks from its winter solstice, the sun disappeared below the southwest horizon and an orange glow spread above the fields, contrasting with the slate blue of the clear, cold sky; the thermometer read 17 degrees F. Skeins of geese drifted toward the river but nothing else moved in the late afternoon twilight.

Before long, the last glow of dusk retreated with the sun and a bowl of stars covered the vast till plain. It would be a long, frigid night for the wildlife of central Illinois.

Faith & Courage

There is a well known saying that you will never find an atheist in a foxhole. And, I would add, you will never find an atheist in a suicide vest. Most who engage in combat, for whatever cause, are comforted by the conviction that, should they pay the ultimate price, they will be rewarded in the afterlife. In other words, their religious beliefs, if not their rationale for war, provide the courage to participate.

Humans often lean on faith to deal with a variety of struggles in their lives, including illness, addiction and personal loss; of course, the ultimate certainty of death is the primary threat that we all face. Many would argue that religious belief is an essential source of courage, providing emotional support as we endure the many trials and tribulations of life; were it not for the self-delusion and secondary consequences (discrimination, zealotry, anti-science rhetoric) I might agree that religious faith is a benign form of adaptation.

There is another relationship between courage and faith that most humans are unwilling to consider. Immersed in a world of religious conviction and mysticism, the individual is infused with beliefs at an early age and remains under pressure to retain them throughout his life. It takes courage to question the tenets of faith and, in the end, most choose to comply rather than adopt a life of intellectual honesty.

Ohio Gray

Ohio harbors a wealth of beautiful landscapes: rustic farms, wooded hills, tallgrass prairie, hemlock groves, scenic lakeshores and rugged gorges, to mention a few. But the winter weather of the Buckeye State rarely brings such accolades. Visiting family this week, my memories of Ohio's gray season were strongly reinforced.

Located at the confluence of moisture flow from the Gulf of Mexico and the Great Lakes, Ohio receives more than its fair share of annual precipitation and, during the colder months, what doesn't fall creates a dense overcast of flat, gray clouds. Adding to the moisture flow, the State's terrain gradually climbs toward the east, producing a mild "upslope" as the air rises, cools and condenses. This orographic precipitation is especially evident in Northeastern Ohio where northwest winds, developing behind cold fronts, sweep across Lake Erie, saturate with moisture and dump their cargo of heavy snow on the higher terrain southeast of the Lake.

Of course, this winter precipitation nourishes the rich forests, wetlands, meadows and productive farmlands of the State. But, in the midst of a cold, gray winter, those benefits are often hard to appreciate.

Myths & Children

For the sake of tradition, we deceive our children with a variety of myths, from flying reindeer to a giant Easter bunny to the tooth fairy. While most consider this practice to be harmless childhood fantasy, stimulating imagination and bringing happiness into their lives, it may produce unintended consequences, if only at the subconscious level.

Would the holiday season be less joyful if we eliminated these myths? Are we unable to celebrate peace, charity and good will without the jolly man in the red suit? Are gifts less appreciated if we are honest about their source? All of this may sound like psycho-babble from a holiday humbug but I'm not sure we need to protect our children from the realities of life by creating fantasies that we must debunk as they begin to mature. Trust is fragile and should be handled with care.

There are certainly good reasons to protect our children from fear and worry during their formative years and their understanding of life must progress in a gradual, non-threatening and age-appropriate manner. But our willingness to sustain traditional myths, however cute and entertaining, says more about our own discomfort with reality than it does about our devotion to childhood fantasy. After all, we have adult myths that are difficult to abandon.

The Nature of Infidelity

The scandal involving Tiger Woods has flashed across the globe this week, covered by tabloids, sports networks and major news organizations. The fact that Woods, admired for his skill and his devotion to golf, has been unfaithful in his marriage was not a surprise to me. What was a surprise was the that, after centuries of similar episodes, humans were shocked to hear the story.

There is no excuse for infidelity but there are reasons. The first and overriding reason is that human males are not naturally monogamous. Like most males in the animal kingdom, we were designed to spread our genes through as many females as possible; part of that design is a sexual drive that creates interest in having a variety of partners (especially attractive females of child-bearing age). Despite legal, religious and social constraints, many men cannot (or choose not to) contain this natural tendency. Though highlighted by the lives of celebrities, marital infidelity is widespread among all socioeconomic levels, all professions, all religions and all cultures, resulting in a high rate of divorce and the associated painful consequences.

Lesser causes include marital problems, psychological disorders and, far down the list, predatory females (a favorite villain for many unfaithful males). Given the selfish nature of human beings, there are few (if any) ways to prevent the common occurrence of infidelity. But I'm sure that women can suggest a cure.

Winter Plunges South

The first major cold front of the season pushed through Missouri yesterday morning and, behind the front, strong north winds brought winter to the Heartland. Though temperatures fell through the day, there was not enough moisture in the air to produce rain or snow.

This morning, with a bright full moon in the clear, western sky, the thermometer reads 27 degrees F. Fortunately, the winds have abated and my walk to work in the predawn darkness was pleasantly invigorating. Though cold, the air is dry, offering a welcome change from the chilly, damp weather of recent weeks.

With little solar heating at this time of year, we are at the mercy of the jet stream. Its dips (troughs) allow Canadian air to plunge southward while its northern oscillations (ridges) bring interludes of balmy weather from the south. But the tide has turned and cold spells will dominate for the next few months.

Highway Evangelists

The farmers of the American Heartland certainly know a great deal about corn, wheat and soybeans. Many have experience raising cattle, hogs and sheep. Some also fancy themselves as preachers.

Conscious of the captive audience that streams past their fields, these highway evangelists promote their beliefs with a self-righteous zeal. Scripture verse adorns the side of barns, images of Jesus rise above the corn stalks, anti-abortion signs line the fences and makeshift billboards advise us to repent and prepare for eternity.

As private landowners, they certainly have the right to take advantage of the exposure and express their beliefs. Of course, the great majority of these roadside preachers are Conservative Republicans, in favor of the death penalty, opposed to gun control and enraged by any "socialist ideas" that the government might propose; one wonders if Jesus would share their views. And, most disturbing, their underlying message is that America is a Christian nation; all others are unwelcome.

Into the Dark

Humans are not naturally equipped to deal with cold or darkness. We do not have enough body fat (in most cases) or hair cover to provide adequate insulation and our night vision is very limited. One can only imagine the stress imposed by these factors prior to the advent of modern technology; death from exposure or nocturnal predators was surely common.

As we descend into the cold and darkness of winter, we get a taste of these environmental threats and, despite our access to electricity and heated homes, we retain the fear of our ancestors, buried in the collective human psyche. We are, after all, tropical creatures, not designed for polar or subpolar climates. And, as a species, we "remember" the advantage that nocturnal hunters have during these winter months; the hoot of the owl and the howl of the wolf, while inspiring, are also chilling.

So, following the lead of our threatened ancestors, we conduct our seasonal rituals. Using lights to ward off the darkness, we pray and hope that our saviour, the sun, will return.

From Southwest to Northeast

An upper level low is spinning over the Southwest this morning. Attached to a cold front, that stretches from El Paso to Chicago, the storm is pulling in moisture from the Gulf of California, producing mountain snows and valley rains across the Four Corners region; the higher elevations of West Texas can also expect snow from this storm.

Forecast to move eastward and then northeastward over the coming days, this low pressure will begin to tap Gulf of Mexico and Atlantic moisture and drop significant rain across almost all of the East, from the Gulf Coast to New England. Depending upon the relative positions of the cold front and the central low, snow accumulation could be significant in the Northern Appalachians.

Such storms systems, which typically move from west to east across North America, illustrate the dynamics of our weather, combining the effects of wind direction, lift (from both the low and the topography), air temperature and atmospheric moisture; the latter develops as air moves over the ocean or Great Lakes. Contrary to a common perception, these storms are not just a mass of clouds that drop their precipitation as they move across the country; rather, the central low is a pump, constantly mixing the essential ingredients, mentioned above, and interacting with the surface features of our planet.

The Okavango Delta

Rising in the highlands of eastern Angola, the Okavango River flows southeastward, crosses a sliver of eastern Namibia and enters the northwest corner of Botswana. There, it spreads into a broad, braided delta which, during the cool,wet climate of the Pleistocene, fed a vast inland lake. As the climate warmed, this south-central region of Africa dried out, the lake receded into scattered salt pans and tectonic activity, associated with the East African Rift, altered the regional topography.

Through all of this, the Okavango Delta persisted, draining into the sands and seasonal lakes of the expanding Kalahari Desert; covering more than 6000 square miles, it is the largest inland delta on the planet. Flow through the Delta peaks from May through August, coinciding with the dry season of the surrounding grasslands and desert. As one might expect, this oasis effect attracts huge and varied concentrations of wildlife to the Okavango Delta, moving in from the parched landscape. Just as the Okavango flow begins to contract, in October-November, the wet season arrives on the adjacent plains and the herds disperse from the Delta.

With its slow percolation of fresh water across nearly flat terrain, the Okavango Delta is similar to the Everglades of South Florida, expanding and contracting with the seasons. Outlets to the south and east allow flow to continue through the year, minimizing salt deposition within the Delta; these outlet streams disappear into the sands of the Kalahari or end at saline likes, which, like those of the Great Basin, expand and recede as the balance between evaporation and inflow varies through the year.

The Nature of Parenting

Throughout most of the animal kingdom, parenting does not occur. In "lower animals," up through amphibians and reptiles, fertilized eggs and live young are cast into the world, expected to fend for themselves. With few exceptions, parenting is limited to birds and mammals and, for the most part, it is a maternal responsibility. Encompassing efforts to feed, protect and instill survival skills, the process may take weeks to years, depending on the species.

In mammals, females are instinctively equipped to nurse, protect and teach their young; failure to do so generally implies underlying illness (physical, mental or emotional). In some species, males may take part as providers and protectors but, as we all know, their dedication to these responsibilities is far from reliable. Early humans, like other primates, were likely polygamous and the male's attention to individual sons or daughters was surely lacking. As human society advanced, monogamy has been encouraged through a variety of legal, religious and social pressures and, as a consequence, fathers have taken a more active role in parenting.

As all parents discover, their role is both the most rewarding and the most difficult of human experiences. Due to our large brain, which consumes a large portion of our caloric intake, human children mature very slowly and, though physically capable of producing offspring within fourteen years or so, they require significant parenting themselves for at least two decades. Efforts to prepare them for survival in the modern world is far more challenging than it was in the early centuries of human history. Life, while much easier in some ways, is far more complex in others. Nevertheless, good parenting still comes down to the capacity to love, nurture, protect, teach and let go.

Thanks to Nature

On this annual Day of Thanksgiving, there are many reasons to be thankful for our natural world. Spectacular sunsets and star-filled skies come to mind, as do mountain vistas, majestic rivers, colorful canyons and beautiful seascapes. And across these varied landscapes is a fascinating diversity of life, from algae to redwoods, amoebae to elephants, krill to blue whales.

Of course, nature is not mindful of our appreciation and does not seek our approval. In fact, we are part of her realm. Nature is both around us and within us; our bodies, minds and souls, like the components of a tree, have evolved from more primitive forms and occupy their unique place on the spreading web of life. Today, we express our gratitude for the experience.

Wild Gobblers

As we approach the great American feast day, it seems appropriate to consider the wild relative of our main dish. A native of North America, the wild turkey once inhabited much of the Continent, from southern Canada to Mexico. Extirpated from many areas by over-zealous hunting, our largest game bird has been making a comeback in recent decades, primarily due to habitat protection, reintroduction programs and improved conservation management.

A bit leaner than their domestic cousins, wild turkeys are nearly as large; adult males often weigh 20 pounds or more. Despite their size, these birds are capable of rapid flight for short distances and, equipped with long legs, usually escape predators by running into cover. Wild turkeys favor open woodlands and are best observed near the border of fields and forest. After feeding on acorns, seeds, berries, corn and insects through the day, they roost in trees for the night.

In spring, adult males gather harems of up to fifteen hens; sparring with one another and attracting females with a mix of gobbling, strutting and feathered displays, these males, like American elk bulls, become obsessed with their mating rituals, foregoing food and sleep for days at a time. Females lay an average of twelve eggs in a shallow, concealed depression and incubate them for almost a month; the young poults remain with their mother through the summer, often joining other broods in communal roosts and on favored feeding grounds.

Raking Leaves

Raking leaves, to the extent that I bother, is one of my favorite forms of yard work; it takes me outdoors, provides exercise, is not terribly exacting and always (by my own choice) occurs on a mild autumn day. Yesterday, with partly sunny skies, a minimal breeze and a high near 60 F, offered a perfect opportunity.

Not inclined toward masochism and dedicated to recycle the leaves to nourish the plants in our yard, I rake them into mounds around the trees or into the shrub and flower beds that line the fences; by mid spring, most have disappeared into the soil. I'm also inclined to stop frequently to take in the sights and sounds of autumn, my favorite season of the year. Yesterday afternoon, the squirrels were busily gnawing on black walnuts, their squeaky efforts ringing through the yard. Woodpeckers were especially active, represented by a pair of downies, several red-bellies, a host of flickers, a hairy woodpecker at the feeder and a lone yellow-bellied sapsucker. The usual mix of chickadees, titmice, cardinals, nuthatches, finches, blue jays and mourning doves also moved through the property, Carolina wrens sang from the wood border and boisterous crows called in the distance.

Even with the frequent, self-imposed distractions, the raking took less than an hour and I found myself looking for other reasons to hang out in the yard on that pleasant autumn day. Then I decided that relaxation, fresh air and a chance to recharge my soul were reasons enough.

The Nature of Intolerance

Many people...far too many...see this world in black and white. For them, every human idea, trait or point of view is either right or wrong, good or bad, divine or evil; there is no room for dissent, discussion or compromise.

This rigid approach to life is usually ingrained in childhood and reinforced by a cloistered youth, with exposure to a limited circle of relatives and friends. Those who continue to live in such confinement, not motivated to explore the "outside world" via education or travel, tend to retain their simplistic and dogmatic views. In turn, these provincial attitudes foment intolerance, often surfacing as racism, religious zealotry and other forms of discrimination.

Intolerance of other ideas and points of view, a product of early, self-righteous reinforcement by parents or mentors, hinders one's ability to function effectively in relationships and in human society as a whole. Faced with this reality, unwilling to compromise and incapable of trusting "outsiders," such people seek the comfort of like-mined individuals; in this way, intolerance feeds on itself, fringe groups form and the welfare of human society is placed at risk. It is only through education and personal experience, free from religious and political constraints, that we come to appreciate the shades of gray in our lives.