winterbadger: (loch tay)
Inside each pillar-box-red haw are seeds in which the last year is folded like a bus ticket to the next.

What a beautiful sentence! For more of them, read this Country Diary entry.
winterbadger: (cracking cheese!)
I had a "business meeting" with some of the lads from the office Saturday morning. A sort of off-site at a small DC convention site.

Then, after a recuperative rest, I took off for the country. The FAR country. I went on a jaunt to the Eastern Shore of Maryland, which is, according to the calculations I made with my astrolabe, behind the Sun and beyond the moon. I arrived at my B&B just as a wonderful storm was breaking, made plans with the friend I was meeting to have dinner, and watched while the wind and rain blew away all the heat and humidity we've been feeling. My friend, The Oracle, and I walked down the road to a riverside bistro, where we feasted on crab and good beer, then stepped next door for some of the best ice cream I have ever tasted

The next day I got up and wandered down to the beach and read my book and watched the morning develop. It was a truly lovely day, cool and pleasant. I had a delicious brunch at an inn just down the road from my B&B and met up with the Oracle, who whisked me off into the depths of this strange land to a huge marsh, which is a national wildlife refuge. This was absolutely stunning; even the large number of mosquitos and horse flies could not detract from a goregous blue sky filled with massive, white, puffy clouds, brilliantly shining water, and gobs and gobs of beautiful nature. We wandered about, seeing all sorts of wonderful birds, as well as several turtles and scads of minnows.

Then we got back into her venerable phaeton and sped off to an excellent gastropub nearby for a topping lunch/tea. After our meal, I reluctantly bid the Oracle farewell and headed back to DC. Despite my expectations, the immense and very alarming bridge did not suddenly twist and toss me headlong into the Chesapeake Bay (in fact, coming back it seemed not quite so huge and not nearly as scary). I arrived home, fed some very vociferous cats, and had a snack myself, downloaded my pictures from the weekend and relaxed with a little Brit TV. I had a great time, and I expect that, having found the distance not too great, the dangers not so fearsome, and the natives friendly, I may be going back again soon.

winterbadger: (badgerwarning)
Sad. Took my walk this morning and saw a dead robin (as well as plenty of live ones, and catbirds). Recently deceased, probably one of the local cats.

But, even sadder, when I got through the park to the playground, there was a big whacking tulip poplar down across the path. Quite healthy, to judge by the leaves on the upper branches and the clean wood visible where limbs had been broken off by the fall. Another casualty of stream erosion, I fear. Our little stream is nice to have trickling through the park, but because it's a major stormwater conduit, it's deadly to trees that grow too close to its banks.
winterbadger: (nighy)

I just found a seed. In a navel orange.

ETA: Two seeds.

winterbadger: (nervous badger)
The UK government is delaying but not halting plans to kill up to 70% of badgers in some areas.

This and other articles and comments point out that Ireland, which practices badger eradication like the UK, still has bovine TB problems. But Germany, which does not kill huge swathes of its badger population, has no bovine TB problem.

Crazy idea here, but why not vaccinate cattle against TB?
winterbadger: (VMars)
Some gorgeous photographs of nature!

The Nature Conservancy's 2010 award winners
winterbadger: (wonder)
I had my brisk morning walk today before coming in to work, and what I'm thankful for today is the beauty of nature, especially my little park and the golden and crimson leaves that are strewn about or still hanging on the trees waiting to join the drifts of yellow and orange and carmine strewn over the paths and swards and even, astonishingly, the stream. It's funny, there's a place where the water coming down our little watercourse rushes gurgling over some rocks then hits what I guess must be a much deeper patch. Because it stops gurgling and rushing; the surface becomes calm and completely unmoving. A carpet of bright autumn leaves lies still across it from bank to bank, with small gaps of mirror-still water showing here and there. A few yards further down, the same water rushes swiftly again over boulders and bit of broken concrete. The stillness is amazing, almost miraculous.

Autumn is beautiful this year. One of the fences between two houses near the far end of my walk has a vine I do not know growing over it, bearing gems in place of fruit. Green, teal, blue, and a deep, rich violet, the lightly speckled berries hang in clusters like something from an extravagant, Romantic painting, set off by the still spring-green leaves. Next door in an adjoining yard, a holly tree hangs its glossy dark green leaves over the same fence, highlighted by bright red berries. Autumn is beautiful this year.
winterbadger: (birds)
I've mentioned that I go back and forth across the Potomac Gorge pretty much every day and often see herons and other remarkable birds there. No herons immediately visible, but here are some nice photos of the Gorge put together by the Nature Conservancy.
winterbadger: (small haggis)
I take a mild and curiously expansive pleasure in being able to arrive home at 8pm, make a simple but agreeable dinner (poached salmon and steamed fresh carrots and broccoli, with McVitie's digestives and tea for afters), and relax on the couch with a DVD, a couple of cats, and the cool, dark night, with a comfortable bed and a trashy novel (a birthday gift from a kind friend) before sleep in prospect.

I also appreciate that, while my commute can sometimes be tiresomely long, I pass back and forth every day, at different locations, over the Potomac River Gorge, the home to hundreds of wild creatures and thousands of different plant species. The day is rare that I don't see a great blue heron, or several, as I drive to or from work.

I know I worry and fret and chafe at all the things in my life that aren't the way I would like them to be. So it bears remarking that there are an awful lot of things that are simply wonderful about it. :-)
winterbadger: (wonder)
There are few sounds as lovely, gentle, and soothing as rain in the night. :-)
winterbadger: (VMars)
The Nature Conservancy's best nature photos of 2009

There are some very lovely photos there but, sadly, the prevalence of photo enhancement software has made me very skeptical of certain types of photos. Ones like the first runner up, the one of Mt Ranier, and some others looked fake to me, like the photographer has taken a genuine photo and tarted it up with computer enhancements. Maybe they didn't, but they look unreal to me, and knowing that people *can* fake up photos electronically that way makes it hard for me to credit that they really got shots like that legitimately.
winterbadger: (slightly bemused cat)
Sometime back I ran across a mention of the disease that's afflicting Tasmanian devils. It mentioned a connection to thylacines (I guess that they both survived in Tasmania after going extinct on the mainland of Australia).

Well, The John Muir Trust, a UK conservation organization I'm a member of, sent me an email asking me to vote for them in a poll to determine who gets a big Euro conservation grant. I was looking up the other organizations to see what they're like, and read this piece on Ennerdale Water in Cumbria (which looks like a beautiful place to go walking!)

And it's home to the legend of the Girt Dog of Ennerdale.

Which, apparently, people now think may have been a thylacine that escaped after being imported from Australia.

The world (or at least Wikipedia) is a wonderfully weird place.
winterbadger: (cat yin-yang)
Summary: WWII wargame Saturday with Bryan and Eric, DC United beats FC Dallas in the evening. Sunday a trip to the farmers' market, dinner with neighbours, and the island of Mull on TV. Read more... )
winterbadger: (black)
from the BBC

The world's tiger population may have halved in the past quarter of a century, conservationists from the World Wildlife Fund (WWF) have warned.

The WWF told a conference in Stockholm there might be only 3,500 tigers left, and that one sub-species, the South China Tiger, could soon be extinct.

Chinese demand for tiger body parts - used in traditional medicine - was described as one of the main threats.

...

The director of WWF India's species programme, Sujoy Banerjee, said that at the beginning of the 20th Century there were an estimated 40,000 tigers in India, but that there were now no more than 1,400 - 60% fewer than in 2002.

Mr Banerjee said a serious threat to the remaining tigers came from poor Indian farmers who are determined to protect the livestock that they depend on.

"Whenever there is human-tiger conflict, the ultimate loser is the tiger," he said.

The situation in Indonesia was described as critical, with loggers having laid waste to vast tracts of the habitat of the Sumatran Tiger - the next most threatened sub-species.

Based on current trends, more than 90% of the country's forests may have been destroyed by 2050, the group said.

"In many ways the tiger stands at a crossroads between extinction and survival, and which path it takes is totally dependent on us," Mr Banerjee warned.


I can understand farmers wanting to protect their livestock and foresters wanting to feed their families, but there's got to be a better solution than this. Tigers... just GONE? The idea that any wild animal species is dependent for its survival on humanity doing something sensible is frightening. But, of course, pretty much all species are in the same place.

Humans suck--the planet would be better off without us.

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