adventures


18
Jul 24

Flower photos and plant peektures

Up dimly lit and early this morning. Everything went according to plan, despite the cats’ best efforts to get in the way of things. Just one of the cats, actually. You’ve got a 50-50 shot at guessing, and I don’t think you’ll need a hint or odds. If you’ve been paying attention you can guess which one.

You’ll be right.

We had breakfast at a local diner. It was fine. Some diners are better than others, I’ve learned. This one was OK. The cheese in the omelette was the best part, though the paper place mat told me they have all-you-can-eat chicken pot pie on Wednesday evenings. I don’t know how much chicken pot pie I can eat, but I might find out one of these days.

Being up early meant I got to enjoy a nap today. That means I’ll be up all night.

Let’s have a look at a few more of the flowers in the backyard.

This is a scarlet beebalm, or a crimson pincushion, or a wild bergamot. I’ve no idea, they all seem to look the same.

I didn’t notice it last year, I think it might be a weed — so the bergamot, maybe. My horticulture teacher in high school would tell you that weeds are only weeds if you don’t want them. Whatever is undesirable is a weed. If I say the beautiful roses are undesirable and the pokeweed is what I want, I’ll eventually never have to think about weeding
again. (I never think about it now.) That teacher is a preacher now.

Look at this hibiscus go!

The brown eyed susans are getting a lot of attention.

The butterflies aren’t the only ones. And beyond these bumblebees there are other bees and things I can’t identify.

And I’m thinking about sending a media release on this one. We have figs!

Now I have to learn about harvesting figs. And I must also do some weed-eating.


11
Jul 24

We forgot our brooms

After a leisurely day around the house, I’ll give you one guess about where we went this evening.

OK, I’ll give you a second guess about where we went this evening. You’re sure to get it from here.

(Click to embiggen.)

Thursday night is theme night, I guess. And it was also inexpensive ticket night. So we semi-spontaneously went across the river and spent some time at Citizens Bank Park. We watched the great Shoehei Ohtani go 0-4 and saw Aaron Nola scatter four hits and two walks across six innings as the homestanding team beat the not-very-well-liked visitors 4-0. Brandon Marsh hit a home run and charted a triple to right, Trea Turner recorded his sixth home run in nine games. And just after I took that large photo (seriously, click it, it’ll open in a new window and you can scroll around) Kyle Schwarber hit a baseball a very long distance, as he frequently does.

The good guys won, 5-1. It was a series sweep. In a related story, after a two-inning battle I defeated the sunscreen that oozed into my left eye.

Did you notice the new graphic up there? The blue one? I’m updating a few of those as I go. And, this evening, as we were leaving the park, I had the opportunity to get a nice skyline of the city.

I was, of course, photobombed.

It was a delightful night over the river. Except for the sunscreen incident.

We’ll be back over there in a few weeks. Not eager to repeat the same mistake, I’ll be sure to have a new skin protection strategy by then.


10
Jul 24

I really buried the video here

I’m feeling mostly better, thanks. Progress is progressive, and I’ll take every positive signal possible. Now, it takes twice as long for the fatigue to kick in, and so on. By next week, or perhaps next month or next year, I’ll be approaching the maximum allowable approach to 100 percent.

This allows for time, which I am told must be accounted for. I don’t necessarily agree with that. One could say I don’t believe it, because I don’t believe it. I’m sitting in this chair and I feel great!

I only believe in time when I must crawl around on my knees for something.

That’s not entirely true. I only believe it when I have to stand up, after crawling around on my knees.

A wise person learns when to be careful of one person’s criticism. A singular critique, no matter how nuanced, no matter how well-intentioned, no matter how accurate from an independent perspective, is just that.

But then there’s this.

It’s something news leaders should really do some soul searching about. Are we doing our job of informing the American public so that they can do their job of voting in an informed way? If many people don’t know the facts, the media needs to take some responsibility for that.

That’s Margaret Sullivan, the former editor of The Buffalo News, where she was also the vice president. She is the former public editor of the New York Times (a position they axed, wholesale, a while back, for times just like these) and media columnist for the Washington Post. Sullivan is the executive director of the Craig Newmark Center for Journalism Ethics and Security at Columbia University and is currently doing some terrific work for The Guardian. I’m not being critical of Sullivan, indeed I agree with her here.

But there’s two things here. Three things. First, she’s 100 percent correct.

Second, that this is a position we are in, that this is a thing that needs to be said — and ignored — says a great deal. We shouldn’t have to be doing this sort of soul searching, because we should already be doing this sort of soul searching. The responsibility is baked in and, often, ignored. This is the civic duty in which we were all trained, and which is now so often put aside for clicks, subscriptions, outrage. Dismissed for access, favor and larger corporate interests. The business model, in this configuration, hamstrings itself and everyone dependent upon it.

Third, and the less obtrusive, point, now that I’ve given you a thumbnail of Sullivan’s impressive bona fides: who are the news leaders here? Hers is only one pen, and she is well regarded by her peers. Sullivan does her part in trying to set tone. This interview with Public Notice, a quality independent outlet, furthers that conversation somewhat. At least she uses “We.” There’s a complicity in the problem, and she knows it. (And, if you read that, you do to, now.) For a media critic to have a criticism is proper. For it to go unheeded, for the sake of a dollar, with so much at stake, is a dereliction of civic responsibility.

Separately, but also related …

Some 16 years ago (give or take), there was this notion that companies and events would hire journalists to cover their programming.*

This, I guess, is what that mutated into. NATO’s newest weapon is online content creators:

Mingling with the top brass and world leaders at the NATO summit in Washington this week will be some fresher faces on a unique mission: social media influencers recruited to improve NATO’s image with young people.

NATO invited 16 content creators from member nations including Belgium, Canada, the United States and Britain to attend the summit. The United States is running its own social media mission in support. An additional 27 creators were invited to the summit by the Defense Department and the State Department, which last year became the first Cabinet-level agency to establish a team dedicated to partnerships with digital content creators.

The creators have large followings on platforms including TikTok, YouTube and Instagram, and cover topics ranging from politics to national security to news, current events and pop culture. In the space of 48 hours this week, a band of creators met with top officials from the most powerful institutions in D.C., including the Pentagon and State Department. At the White House, they met with John Kirby, President Biden’s national security communications adviser. At least two creators were granted interviews with Secretary of State Antony Blinken.

The tools, of course, exist to reach desired audiences directly. And now an enterprising entity can. This will come with varied results, of course. Some such influencers may have a great grasp of their subject matter. Perhaps more than a parachuting journalist. This could be useful. Some could have less. This could become propaganda.

Think on that awhile. With the news media diminished, and avenues to the public zeitgeist easily and readily available, what are the best approaches for an agency or nation-state to deliver its message? And who defines “best?”

It’s a brave new world out there, where the Huxleyan and the Orwellian meet.

*Yes! Our best media thinkers invented corporate hack stringers for everyone!

We went for a bike ride with one of The Yankee’s running groups. She’s running with two groups. One of them has a subset of people who do triathlons. And, once a week, they do a brick workout. They go out for a ride, and then they run.

So we went to that nearby town. Parked at one of the group member’s houses, and went out for a ride. This was the ride before the group ride. We just went … that way for a while, and then turned around to go back for the group ride.

So it was a warmup ride. Also the headwinds were about 15-20 miles per hour. I worked quite hard to stay on her wheel.

  

And then came the group ride. They all just go out … that way … at their own pace for a fixed time. The diea is that they all return to the starting place at roughly the same time for a quick run. I am not running just now — I’ll get back to it one of these days — so I just kept riding into those headwinds.

When I turned around, I saw some bramble berries, so I stopped and had a few of those. Anyway, it all turned into a nice two hours. A 36-mile ride that felt pretty good after my recent almost-illness.

From today’s adventure, to a previous bike ride, then.

It’s time once more for We Learn Wednesdays, where we discover the county’s historical markers via bike rides. This is the 40th installment, and the 72nd marker in the We Learn Wednesdays series.

The state really should get around to updating some of these signs …

Pea Patch Island Heronry is the largest Atlantic Coast nesting ground north of Florida for wading birds. Originally a dredge disposal site, this vegetated high ground has been a nesting habitat for nine species of wading birds since the 1970s. It is one of the few protected areas available for these birds. Pea Patch Island supports between 5,000 and 12,000 breeding pairs annually.

Wading birds are highly social and thrive in noisy crowded colonies. However, the habitat available for these birds is being threatened by oil spills, industrial pollution, and pesticides. Protecting the heronry is critical to the survival of these species. By observing the population of these wading birds, the health of the wetland can be determined. A low population can be an early warning sign of environmental changes in these areas.

The heronry shares Pea Patch Island with historic Fort Delaware. It is a designated nature preserve with limited access and is managed by the Division of Parks and Recreation.

Local folklore has it that a boat loaded with peas that ran aground on a mud shoal in the 1770s. The spilled peas sprouted, mud caught in the vines, and so the island grew. Today they call it Pea Patch Island.

The seasonal ferry will take you there. And that’s what the heronry marker is about, ultimately.

As for the island on which it sits, In 1794, the island appeared on a map from the first time. Around that same time Pierre L’Enfant — you remember that name, he designed Washington D.C. — suggested that the island should be used as river defense. The installation burned in the 1830s. A new fort there became a prison camp during the Civil War. Pea Patch Island was only about 75 acres in size at the time. It was abandoned in the 1870s, but briefly came back to life during the Spanish-American War, and saw some service in World War I and World War II. It got larger in the interim. Earth dredged from the river was dumped onto and around the island in 1906, giving it the modern size, about 300 acres.

It’s a state park. There’s the fort, and the birds, and that’s it.

The marker, above, also features illustrations of some of the birds you’ll find there, and their approximate nest heights.

Great Blue Heron (50 feet, tall trees)
Black-Crowned Night Heron (15 feet, small trees)
Little Blue Heron (1-2 feet, shrubs)
Great Egret (40 feet, tall trees)
Snowy Egret (5 feet, shrubs)
Yellow-Crowned Night Heron (30 feet, small trees)
Cattle Egret (3 feet, shrubs)
Tri-Colored Heron (2 feet, shrubs)
Glossy Ibis (low shrubs)

If you go over to Pea Patch Island, take your bug spray.

If you’ve missed any markers so far, you can find them all right here.


8
Jul 24

A mere mortal, birds and a frog

I’m beginning to feel better, thanks for asking. It is now later in the day before I feel sapped. It takes a bit more exertion to feel weary. These are important progressions, signs and portents of recovery summer. Don’t think I’m not frustrated by having been laid semi-low for three weeks and change from a sinus infection. We’ll see how I hold up this week.

I will demand refunds. I will not get them, but I will demand them.

But I am improving!

Here’s a bit of proof. I had a nice long swim on Saturday. It was ugly. I think I wrote, in my tracking app, that it wa ragged. Or raggedy. It was at least one of those things, if not both.

But I got in 2,000 yards. I jumped in the pool fully expecting I would soon be frustrated, but about a third of the way through I began to wonder if, instead of dying in the water, my shoulders would ever warm up. And then, finally they did. About two-thirds of the way through it finally turned into an acceptable swim.

That usually lasts about 500 yards for me, even on a normal day.

Tried a bike ride, just my second ride of the month and my third ride in … a while. (That’s how you know I’ve not been goldbricking, I suppose.) I had a little ride last Monday and it turned into one of the weirdest, hardest experiences I’ve had in years. So waiting was the new plan, and I did that until Friday.

My lovely bride invited me on a 25-mile ride. Then she told me the route she planned, and I knew this was not a 25-mile ride. I didn’t say anything, because some things have to be learned, and re-learned, for yourself. This is how it went.

Started out great! Tailwind! Much fast, many pedals, happy mood.

Then, for an inexplicable reason, I saw this guy in a corn field.

I rode well for the first hour, and then struggled for 20 minutes or so. And then, at exactly 25 miles, my legs had a talk with my mind and soon after I was left to sweat and struggle my way through a humid half hour.

When I got back, I received a cute little apology that the 25-mile route was, in fact, a 34-mile ride.

We’ve done that route, a combination of our two default rides, several times before, but some things insist on being learned in their own time. I’m sure, in time, we’ll have that same experience again. I’ll just fuel better.

In the meantime, I have to get back in better shape.

I sat outside the other night and listened to the noisy, noisy birds. Usually they blend in, but they were adamant at being noticed at midnight, when good birds should be sleeping. And then I remembered I have this app on my phone that listens to bird song and tells me who is violating noise ordinances.

These were our Friday night birds.

On Saturday morning, we had another visitor. He’s been by before. This, I assure you, is a sturdy, thick, frog.

No idea where he comes to us from. I always try to make sure he’s got good coverage. I wish I knew his pond or stream, so I could help him get back there. The closest water is about 900 yards away. That would have been quite a few hops, even for a frog of this size.

Sunday afternoon posing.

And speaking of posing, as we check in on the kitties, it’s the return of … Super Phoebe!

When she’s done taking a nap like that, she will push off with her back legs and spin herself down to the floor. Super Phoebe is a hopefully, an excellent nap.

Here she is in her secret identity, Posing Phoebe.

Every now and again Poseidon rediscovers the exhaust installation over the stove.

Thankfully, he leaves the spice cabinets alone. Perhaps surprisingly so. That’d be his sort of chaos, really.

As I often say about him, it is a good thing he can be charming.

But that’s not fooling anyone.


4
Jul 24

Happy Fourth

I am starting to feel better today, thanks for asking. Many of the key symptoms have disappeared. I think I hard-coughed all of them right out of my body this morning. It was a huge fit. More the beginning of a cold than the end, or so it felt. But I patiently sat my way into an afternoon without any other great big symptoms.

And so this afternoon I willed my way into the pool to see what would happen.

What happened was I struggled through 500 yards or so and then spent another several hundred yards wondering when I would find my rhythm. Somewhere along the way in a long swim I just slip into a nice (for me) pace that just sees the laps melt away. I haven’t charted this, but it seems like it should come at a fairly consistent time, right? Only I was somewhere around 1,200 yards today and still wondering when that would happen.

It did not happen.

But I did swim what was, on balance, a solid 1,800. And I didn’t feel the need to roll over and sleep the rest of the afternoon away. It felt like progress.

After which I finished reading John Barry’s Rising Tide, which was an incredible book about the 1927 flood of the Mississippi River.

How can something so devastating be all but forgotten just a century later? At a place called Mounds Landing, the levee gave way and “a wall of water three-quarters of a mile across and more than 100 feet high” came through the crevasse. Weeks later, engineers used a 100-foot line to find the bottom, but they failed. The river had gouged a 100-foot-deep channel half a mile wide for a mile inland.

No one could every wrap their arms around an official set of figures for the entirety of the massive watershed, but Barry has some data on the lower Mississippi, where the flood put as much as 30 feet of water over lands where 931,159 people lived. The whole of the country was only 120 million people at the time. Barry continues, “Twenty-seven thousand square miles were inundated, roughly equal to Massachusetts, Connecticut, New Hampshire and Vermont combined. (Months later) 1.5 million acres remained underwater. Not until mid-August, more than four months after the first break in a mainline Mississippi River levee, did all the water leave the land.”

The scale and scope is too big for a series of movies, and maybe that’s why it isn’t in the common zeitgeist. The rural nature of the landscape plays a part here, too. Could you imagine if this could have somehow happened on that scale on the east coast? There are certainly plenty of characters you could draw from. This book fixates on Hoover, of course, and on a few of the key locales. But, then, who would be the antagonists. Here’s one.

The good ol’ boy club of New Orleans would be another. Bankers, the New Orleans establishment and nothing but, and they wiped out two adjoining communities, having made desperate promises about it to save their city. New Orleans dynamited the levee that doomed St. Bernard and Plaquemines parishes. A day later, other upstream collapses proved New Orleans didn’t need the effort. And, of course, New Orleans civic leaders went out of their to deny the compensation promised to their neighbors. New Orleans’ old money would definitely be the bad guys. Alas, it set the stage for Huey Long. The flood — and Calvin Coolidge’s cold shoulder — returned Herbert Hoover to the national stage. The aftermath played a big role in the great migration, and all of it together was hugely influential of generations of what would come for the region.

The current plan for the river takes some of the old hypotheses and puts them together but, Barry finds some flaws in the mathematics. This isn’t an engineering book, though it does deal with some important issues in easily digestible ways. And, then, in 1973 …

It’s all folly — and we know it.

This evening we went to see the fireworks. (We missed them last year.) They were held at the county fairgrounds and we picked out a spot across a wide field from where they launched. We sat on the side of the road and thought of the past and the future. We were far enough away that it wasn’t noisy, and close enough that it was still pretty.

At home again, we lit sparklers in the backyard. Had a great time of it, too. There were at least three different kinds, because there’s no such thing as a supply chain shortage these days.

I’m trying to talk her into taking sparklers with her everywhere she goes.

It’s not a terribly difficult sell, frankly.