There are no grand pictures of the Grand Canyon, I contend. Only grand moments survive, captured weakly by the lens.
(3.14.10) Capturing the Impossible
There are no grand pictures of the Grand Canyon, I contend. Only grand moments survive, captured weakly by the lens.
(3.13.10) A Conservation Success Story
Meet the California condor (Gymnogyps californianus). A celebrated symbol of Native American mythology, this magnificent vulture once soared over the Western skies, uninhibited by such nuisances as humans, taunting us with its nine foot wingspan. During the 20th century, however, condor populations were decimated due to a spectrum of anthropogenic forces: zoos, poaching, lead poisoning, coyote trapping schemes, DDT poisoning, habitat destruction, "general harassment", and power lines. By 1982, 22 individuals clung to the skies and huddled in zoos. Forget it, cried the pessimists. The population is too small, the gene pool is too fragile, the species can't recover. Let us accept our shame and move on. Champions of the bird disagreed. Conservations, led by the San Diego Zoo, compelled the federal government to fund a controversial captive breeding and reintroduction program. All 22 birds were captured and held for breeding. In 1992, Fish and Wildlife Service began releasing the birds in California. In 1996, 6 captive-bred condors were released in the Grand Canyon. Since then, the condor population has expanded to almost 350 individuals, 160 of whom are wild. In the spring of 2009, Mexico celebrated its second wild condor hatchling in 80 years. When conservationists and their critics despair, overwhelmed by the hopelessness of the environmental degradation at our doorstep, we must remember the California condor. In the face of great obstacles, a great conservation comeback has taken place in a mere 20 years. It should be noted, however, that the condor conservation program is also the most expensive conservation program in the US. An estimated $35 million has been spent on this large scavenger since World War II. I'm no economist, but I have a hunch that preemptive measures and a holistic ecological world view may have been a slight bit cheaper. And we never would have been deprived of the silent king of the skies for even a short while.
From first hand knowledge, I can attest to the magnificence of these birds. I had the privilege of watching a trio swoop and soar over the Grand Canyon this weekend.
(3.12.10) Memories of My Father
I remember little of living in France as a child. But I do remember my father--exuberant--holding my hand as we jumped to crack the iced-over mud puddles on the way to school. He taught me a lesson in being a kid during those days. Puddle jumping has become a life long habit.
I only have vague impressions of visiting the Grand Canyon as a child. I do remember my father, weary with stress, awed by the immensity before him. The wilderness, it seemed, was a place of healing. In the midst of natural grandeur, peace comes to the aches of the human world. I hold this as truth today.
Thanks, Dad, for teaching me how to enjoy the joys of the wild.
(3.11.10) Desert in Bloom, Part III
Sorry, I just can't help myself. It is gorgeous in the desert. The cactus should start blooming soon!
Creosote, Larrea tridentata. Check out those anthers!
(3.10.10) Desert in Bloom, Part II
One of the great things about working in the outdoors each day is that you get to watch the slow progression of spring. At the beginning of the week, these buds were closed tight. By the end, two flowers had popped out. I only wish I were around for the weekend to observe the unfurling of the other buds. Once again, the species is unknown.
(3.9.10) Desert in Bloom
The desert wildflowers are out, and they are splendid! With each burst of color, a burst of joy touched my heart. Plant taxonomy ruined me forever, however, and I only wish I knew the identity of these beauties.
(3.8.10) My Home
My dear little tent has survived the weather blasts of the desert without even losing a stake.
(3.7.10) Rainbows!
Driving back from California I encountered traffic about two hours outside of Las Vegas. Car after car slowed or pulled over to take in the amazing sky before us. At one point I counted five individual rainbows in the sky. A few minutes later, THE rainbow appeared. A full one hundred and eighty degrees, this beautiful band was too great for my camera lens. Maybe with a little fiddling in Hugin I can produce the effect. Until then, behold this small beauty! I was literally bouncing up and down in my seat with wonderment. This is one of those moments of grandeur that will brighten my day for years to come.
(3.6.10) Join the Farm
For the past few days I have been visiting good friends who are interning on an organic farm near Oxnard, CA. Join the Farm! is a community supported agriculture project designed to bring healthy and nutritious food to all. Visit the site and the Abundant Table Project blog to learn more about this wonderful endeavor. Above all, those involved with this farm are practicing a beautiful hospitality and love. They love farming, laughing, each other, you, cheesemaking, hiking adventures, wonderful food, and so much more. It has been so refreshing to tag along for a a brief period. Thanks, ladies!
(3.3.10) Midlake
My plan for today's picture was to have a sweet rock concert shot. My aspirations to such greatness, however, were tampered by the security at the El Rey theater, who deemed my camera a threat. Here are two pictures to compensate: the first from the theater and the second the aftermath of the dinner before the concert.
P.S. Check out the new Midlake album!
(3.2.10) Adventures in National Parks and Sunstars
On my way to California I drove through the Mojave Desert Preserve and Joshua Tree National Park. Adventures like this one make me fall in love with the West all over again. I also experimented with some photography tricks, like sunstars.
Ooops!
I tried to get all fancy and use a scheduled publisher to put up my posts. Instead I just messed the order of the days up. Scroll on down for 2.27, 2.28, and 3.1.
(2.24.10) Exposed Lake Bed
Historic water levels of Lake Mead place the shore 100 feet higher than its current shoreline. Walking upon the former lake bed produced hundreds of shells, a few old anchors, some fishing tackle, and a box of bones (no joke).
(2.28.10) It is Hard to Complain...
...when your lunch break view looks like this. My apologies to all of you in cooler climates, but I also have to add that I went for a swim and even had some time to tan. I have an awesome job.
(2.27.10) Green
The recent deluge of rain, including a sprinkling this past week, left the creosote bushes afire with brilliant greens. It is amazing how starved for a particular hue one can become.
(2.23.10) Creativity Fail
Blame it on an African upbringing, blame it on a petite (but muscular!) stature, blame it on my gear, but we cannot avoid the truth: I am perpetually cold, particularly in the evening. I quickly learned to bring extra layers into the field and wear them (up to seven at a time). In the evenings bundling to marshmallow proportions is still insufficient, so I typically bring both of my sleeping bags and snuggle down, the zero degree bag cocooned in the 15 degree bag (I'm a wimp, I know).
This week, in a rash disregard for the facts stated in the above paragraph, I left one of my sleeping bags at home. Wrong move, Darth Barbie, wrong move. In a moment of creative inspiration, I heated a rock in the fire, wrapped it in my t-shirt, and placed the rock at the bottom of my sleeping bag. The good news: the rock was still hot the morning. The bad news: within one minute of contact with my sleeping bag, the wrapped rock burned a hole through my bag and my sleeping bag. After a few well placed words of frustration, I wrapped the rock with my fleece and it did keep me warmish throughout the night. Sometimes improvisation backfires, and quite frankly, I have had far too much success for my own good recently in the creativity department.
The incident was also an exercise in accepting myself, frigid toes and all. As the saying goes, there is no poor weather, simply poor clothing.
(2.22.10) A Picture, A Joke, and Some Beauty
Here's a question for you:What do you call a baby burro?
Answer: A burrito!
Yes, we manufactured that joke while we were building yet another fence in Lake Mead National Recreation Area. We erected a 1.5 mile fence to create a burro management area and thus protect a section of the wilderness from the tramplings of these wild donkeys. And let me tell you, this is one wilderness that I am eager to protect. If you ever find yourself driving through Lake Mead, make your way over to Echo Bay and take a hike around the shores of the lake. It is absolutely stunning. For those of you who had conjured images of Nevada as a barren, it is time to wipe those mental slates, my friends. Hopefully, my pictures will convince you that the beauty I see here is not a mirage.
(2.21.10) It's That's Time, Folks
It's been a while since I posted a recipe here. I made this black-eyed pea soup on Wednesday and it fed me all week.
Early in the day or the evening before: Bring to a boil 1 pound of black-eyed peas with 2 inches of water. After boiling for two minutes, turn off the heat, cover, and allow the beans to soak for at least an hour.
Sauté in a large pot:
1 yellow onion
1 clove minced garlic
1 c. thinly sliced celery
Add:
The drained beans
1 28 oz. diced tomatoes
Enough water to cover the beans by 2 inches
2 bouillon cubes
1/2 tsp. cayenne pepper
1/2 tsp. cumin
1 tsp. salt
1/2 tsp. black pepper
Let it simmer for 1 hour, stirring occasionally.
Add 1/2 cup of uncooked brown rice and cook for 45 minutes. (To speed up the process, add 1 cup of cooked rice instead)
Add 1 cup of greens (spinach, kale, get creative). Continue to cook until the spinach is warm and wilted.
Serve with grated sharp cheddar cheese.
Enjoy!
(2.20.10) Money Garden
There are gold coins growing in the Conservatory of the Bellagio. Only in Vegas.
More pictures of Vegas on Flickr.
(2.19.10) Cranium
The "WOW" version of Cranium is a wonderful upgrade to an originally fantastic game.
(2.16.10) Security Objects
I don't have any distinct memories of a "favorite" stuffed animal from my childhood. Sure, there was the lost triceratops puppet that I liked to sleep with and I came unhinged when my Raggedy Ann Doll was given away, but there was no one object that retained my lasting affection through childhood and into adulthood. I remember feeling as if I ought to have a beloved blankie or tattered rabbit. I even tried to establish a relationship with a blanket once, but it did not stick. By the time I reached middle school, I had resigned myself to a life without a security object.
Enter the Peace Bear.
Remember Beanie Babies? When I was thirteen, my uncle gave me a large Beanie Baby Peace Bear. I quickly latched onto this bear and he became a source of comfort as I traveled through the turmoils of adolescence. On September 11, 2001, I went to my room and cried, with the bear in my arms. Nameless as he was, the bear became a sense of stability for me. He went to college where he bore more teary cuddle sessions. While packing up my room at the end of one spring semester, I decided to keep him out for the summer. He represented a sense of home, I concluded. But at the end of the summer, in a frenetic attempt to pare down my possessions, I put the bear in storage in my grandparents' basement. It was time to move into adulthood.
Enter Ichabod.
My senior year of college was a rough year. Relationship strains intersected with an unknown future, I was left lost and lonely with adulthood looming before me. Ichabod, a lovingly beheaded stuffed moose, entered into my life and we became fast friends. He is a large stuffed animal, the perfect size and shape for a hug or a nap, because his head does not interfere. He belonged to a friend, and my visits to my friend's apartment always involved a hug or two from Ichabod. Ichabod even had a few sleepovers at my house, once my roommates recovered from the oddity of a headless stuffed animal presiding over the living room. Ichabod was safety, he was embracing, he was love. He quickly filled and overflowed the comforting role that my bear held before he was relegated to the basement.
With graduation ceremonies looming, a different kind of ceremony took place on campus. I officially adopted Ichabod. Cheesy, I know. On the cusp of adulthood, my favorite graduation gift was a stuffed animal. I have had a nomadic life since graduation, but with Ichabod at my side I do not feel as if I face these transitions alone. When human hugs are absent, Ichabod is there. In one of the Laura Ingalls Wilder books, Ma talks about how the china shepherdess must be in her place before a dwelling is "home". Ichabod provides that sense for me. I feel a bit ridiculous and childish for the role Ichabod has in my life. Am I really dedicating a blog post to Ichabod? I do have friends and family who support me and love me, and I would not have survived without them. At the same time, I am desperately trying to figure this whole adult thing out, and Ichabod provides a link to my childhood. He is a connection to a time when a stuffed animal truly could provide confidence to face the outside world. I find peace in this link, as immature as it may be, so for the time being Ichabod is staying by my side. Think and say what you will, Ichabod and I can take it.
(2.15.10) Farewell to the Fence
We're done with the LaMe (Lake Mead) Fence! This past tour brought a 4.5 mile project to a conclusion. It was harder to drive away from this border than I expected. Our campsite was more of a home than my apartment. I will miss the mountains, the sunsets, and the stars. I will not miss recreationalists, the gun range, or the pionjar*. Friendships were bonded, relationships formed, laughter burst, tears cried, stories written, and songs sung at this fence. It was a good four months. *See 10.28.09. It should be noted that Cruella and Ursula both fell into disrepair in December and we have seen neither hide nor hair of them since. The difficult holes were bored by brute strength and, at the very end, a jackhammer.
(2.14.10) The Last Sunset
You get a strange feeling when you're about to leave a place...like you'll not only miss the people [and places] you love but you'll miss the person you are now at this time and this place, because you'll never be this way ever again. (Azar Nafisi, Reading Lolita in Tehran)
(2.13.10) Monster Organization Project, Part II
These coils of barbed wire were once entangled in a gargantuan, prickly mess. I had the pleasure of emancipating each coil and spreading the coils out across the desert. This task is not for the faint of heart, nor is it recommended for flimsy sleeves.
(2.12.10) Reflective Tape
We put reflective tape on each fence post and the cable in between. I would hate to be the person to drive into this fence in the dark. And if one is alert, one shouldn't, thanks to us.
And holy guacamole, what a beautiful blue sky!
(2.11.10) Desert Counting
In my previous post, I mentioned that I have spent the week sorting and counting T posts. I thought I would elaborate a little bit on my methodology. After post 50 of over 1000, I realized that I would quickly lose track of the number of posts in each pile (reusable and scrap). So I devised a basic counting system, reminiscent of 2nd grade math. Instead of little clipart images, however, I used a readily available theme: desert trash. More specifically, the fragments of illicit target practices. In less than 15 minutes, I had enough pieces for two separate counting systems. Bullet shells are the "ones", clay pigeon centers are the "tens", and clay pigeon edges are the "hundreds".
(2.10.10) Ultimate Pick-Up Sticks
In retrospect, I now see that the majority of childhood games are engineered to trick a child into learning valuable life lessons and skills. Monopoly teaches basic economics, Sorry teaches ambition at the expense of others, Life..well it teaches you to drive around in a car pursuing the middle class dream. Props to anyone who can recognize the adulthood merit of Splat. Despite this precedent, I never would have expected that summer days playing pick-up sticks would have direct application. This fence project is providing me with some fantastic experiences. As we install our new fence, we decommission a barbed wire fence. Over the months, the T posts and barbed wire have accumulated in a jumbled pile. Our project partner requested that we sort out the pile. I was designated with the lucky job.
My task was relatively simple: play pick-up sticks. However, instead of plastic rods you have an 8 lb metal post. Add dart-like wings. Throw a few rolls of barbed wire on top. And play away. Oh, and did I mentioned that many of these posts are bent and they have an affinity towards becoming lodged against another post, or worse, a roll of barbed wire?
For a girl who loves puzzles, this was one of the most rewarding. Two days later, I have a neat pile of 742 (and counting) reusable T posts and a pile 300 (I gave up counting) posts to be discarded.
(2.9.10) More Rain in the Desert
It continues to rain here. Rumor has it that Southern Nevada has received more rain this winter than it has for the past six years. Anecdotal evidence corroborates this rumor, but the scientist in me is waiting for the official National Weather Service report.
(2.8.10) Food for Failure
A good mistake is hard to find. It should be celebrated with bread and cheese and wine. For this is a meal that knows about failure and waiting and being punched in the gut. Yet it rises and ages and cures with time.
Slice up the baguette, pull out the Brie, uncork the Cab; we'll have a soirée. A good mistake deserves bread and cheese and wine.
(2.7.10) Apple Cake
As a farewell to Rasmus, our dear Danish friend, we requested that he make his famous apple cake for us once more. Cake may be a misleading descriptor; one beneficiary described it as the Danish version of Nilla banana pudding. Regardless of the name, the dessert is delicious.2.8.10 Edit: I just noticed that I originally misspelled "dessert" as desert. Ha. I've been out here too long.
(2.5.10) Be
There are many meaningless distractions in this world. This blog is one of them. Take a minute today to explore the art of silence.
(2.3.10) Escape to Fairytale Land
A forty-five minute drive out of Vegas brought us into
the Spring Mountains and almost 3 feet of snow.
(2.2.10) Adventures in Middle Earth
I hosted a marathon watching of the Lord of the Rings Trilogy--extended edition. It is an intense experience that should not be taken lightly. At a very minimum it must be accompanied by homemade food items such as pizza, salsa, guacamole, tortilla chips, and chocolate cake. Add some beer and you're good to go!
Disc Change #1: Fellowship of the Ring
"The Fight Scene Recreation"
Disc Change #3: The Two Towers
"Still Relatively Normal"
Disc Change #5: Return of the King
"More Like Lord of the Snores"
(2.1.10) Justice, Love, Simplicity and Imagination
It is easy to despair of my ability to truly to stand up for what I believe in. My work schedule prevents me from connecting with the local Las Vegas community. Furthermore, isolated by the desert, I become disconnected from world events. When I return, it is difficult to immerse myself in global events, I am overwhelmed. I want to live simply, which I have achieved by living in a tent eight days a week. However, our food choices as a crew leave a lot to be desired in terms of sustainability. Finances limit our ability to eat organically. The geography of Southern Nevada impinges the aspiring locavore. How do I live justly, simply, and peacefully within the constraints I face?
My fellow Americorps members, Michael and Pamela, have grasped this quandry and faced the bull head on. They have deliberately made a few changes which they hope will lead to a more sustainable and life-giving lifestyle. But, they have taken this one step further. The creative process, Pamela points out, is an active means of pursuing justice and peace. It has never occurred to me that the practice of this blog is a means of living justly and peacefully. Creation is the perfect enemy of destruction; and creativity--as seen by the Rilke quote above--requires no possessions or money. Only imagination. And last I checked, imagination is a renewable resource. So as I attempt to be more mindful of the consumer choices I make, I also want to push my creative boundaries as I work to establish a lifelong pattern of loving art and simplicity.
(1.30.10) Rock Day
For education this week, geologist Russ Dyer, his wife Carol, and their dogs ventured out to the fence line to teach us some rudimentary geology. Nevada, Russ claims, is a geologists dream. The absence of abundant biotic material which mask geological structures allow even the beginning rock fiend to identify geologic principles at work. It doesn't hurt that Nevada is the most mountainous state in the US, boasting 13 mountain ranges. What we lack in trees, we make up for in majestic mountaintops.Addendum (2.5.10): Here is photographic evidence of the nature of Nevada's mountains. Ironically, I took this from the slopes of Mount Charleston (elev. 11,912 ft) which boasts at least four types of pines and is covered with 3 feet of snow at the moment. This certainly is a state of contrasts.
(1.27.10) Irony
We sat in the truck
And listened to a speech
Against apathy, for change.
And we sat.
We build a fence
Designed to restrict freedom
On federal land.
Land of freedom.
Still we build.
We talk about rights:
To own a gun, to get married
To see a doctor.
We just talk.
And we sit. We talk. Then we build our fence.
(1.26.10) Rain
We have had quite a bit of rain around here, lately. Almost a whole year's worth (3 inches) in two weeks. Fortunately, we were off for one of those weeks. The day it did rain while we were on the project left me in a mood as dismal as this picture.
(1.25.10) Together
Let's just be silent together, ok?
We'll savor the moment, not gab it away.
This quietude will be the hallmark of early day.
Let's just chat softly together, alright?
We'll discuss all this beauty, this wondrous sight.
Our words will echo the joy of noon-light.
Let's just shout loudly together, agreed?
That sunset is gorgeous, it needs to be freed.
Guffaws are the best tools, as it is dusk that we heed.
Let's just be together today, ok?
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