Watching a bewildering world from the middle of nowhere
Light Pollution Science and Technology Institute
There’s a nice column in the Wall Street Journal today about light pollution and the night sky. Light pollution isn’t just a cause for anti-suburban types like me. Light pollution actually may impair the body’s production of melatonin, raising our risks of getting cancer. Also, light pollution really screws up wildlife.
Wikipedia
We know that the recent rumors about popping corn with cell phones were a hoax. But today there are fresh stories in the media about health risks from cell phone radiation (1, 2). It would be useless for me to rant about how most people talk too much on their cell phones. But as a Steampunk, I am going to rant about cell phone design.
It amazes me how quickly our telephone culture moved from the beautiful, classic design of an old Bell System telephone handset — which actually fit the human hand, mouth, and ear — to the absurd design of today’s cell phones. I guess this is because people want something small that they can carry in their pocket and whip out in an instant for a good hour of useless conversation anytime, anywhere. But these phones don’t fit the hand, or the mouth, or the ear. Even worse, the antenna is right against the skull. So it is certainly true that even though cell phones deliver a small amount of radio frequency energy, this energy is concentrated in one of the worst possible places — right up against the ear and skull. The only place that could be worse would be the eye.
There are alternatives, but there’s not much market for them except from communication nerds like me who demand good design. Also I don’t spend half my day talking on the thing. I’ve posted previously about this phone from the perspective of a ham radio operator who demands a good transmitter, a good receiver, and a good antenna — even on his cell phone.
Here are two photos of my Motorola M900 digital bag phone. Note that the antenna is completely separate from the rest of the phone. There’s also a warning sticker near the antenna telling the user to keep at least 10 inches from the antenna. This cell phone has a separate handset which contains only the earpiece and mouthpiece. The handset fits the hand, the ear, and the mouth pretty well:
Also note that I can easily attach an external antenna to this phone, giving a much better signal in rural areas like the area I live in. I can also use the external antenna when the phone is in the car. Here’s the external antenna perched on top of my travel trailer:
I’m guessing, though, that Americans will rethink their insane cell phone designs around the same time they rethink their insane freeways.
I’ve mentioned before how difficult it is to photograph the sky. Conditions have to be just right, and better equipment than I have really helps. But the color of the light at yesterday’s sunset was so unusual that I at least had to try to capture it. There had been storms all around before sunset, though unfortunately most of the rain missed me.
Look who’s come to live with me. Her name is Lily. She was a foundling. She’s 10 weeks old and is the first cat I’ve had in about 20 years.
NOAA: For most of the country, August precipitation should be normal
The National Weather Service released a 30-day forecast yesterday. Water temperatures in the equatorial Pacific have returned to normal, so La Niña is officially ended. For most of North Carolina, the 30-day forecast for August is for normal temperatures and normal rainfall. Farther south, into South Carolina and Georgia, temperatures are expected to be above normal.
It’s nice to hear that La Niña is gone, but we need rain badly. The rivers are low. The water in my little stream has stopped flowing.
My sister gave me about a dozen packets of flower seeds this spring. I mixed all of them together and flung them into an area where the soil seemed more productive. I saw the first results this morning. This is a cosmos flower.
With the garden sorta-kinda producing, curry seems to be the default supper. The squash came from the Danbury farmer’s market, because I’m still getting very few. But the cayenne, green pepper, and green tomatoes came from my garden. My sister grew the garlic.
A hastily improvised raita to go with the curry — cucumber and cherries. The cucumber came from the Danbury farmer’s market. The cherries came from Levering Orchard. Lesson learned: next time don’t attempt raita unless I have yogurt instead of cottage cheese. It wants to be creamy, not lumpy-runny.
Curry in the pan, with coconut oil
Wikipedia: a red-tailed hawk
It is never silent here. I am surrounded by a dense population of birds. One thing I’ve learned: It is wrong to think that birds always sing. Sometimes they do. But sometimes they yell. They quarrel. They scold. And clearly they communicate. The hawks have been extremely noisy for days down in the woods. I don’t know what kind of hawks they are, and I don’t know for sure why they have been so noisy. My assumption, though, is that they have fledglings on the ground or in the trees, and they’re looking out for and protecting the fledglings. I was able to get about 30 seconds of recording today when one of the hawks came to a nearby tree. Note that this is not just one hawk squawking. It is two more more hawks communicating. Or so I deduce because they take turns and don’t usually squawk at the same time. In this recording, at 28 seconds, the hawk starts to squawk, then its sound takes on a warbling sound. The warbling is because it took wing and flew back into the woods.
Click below to play the MP3 file:
Nature abhors a vacuum. I suspect that nature also abhors farmers. I have thrown massive amounts of labor, fertilizer, lime and seed at the acre I cleared of old pine trees back in February. I was desperate for ground cover. Though some of what I planted took root and grew some, once the rain begins to fall, nature proves that she is way better at this than I am. Some people would be ashamed to have so many weeds. I am proud of every last one of them. As rebellious children often do, the weeds have succeeded where I have failed. Above: a common weed.
A common weed
A common weed
Baby mimosa. It’s a weed here.
I planted this! Peppermint.
A common weed
A young morning glory. I have lots of them. I have no idea how they got here. They could not possibly have been here before, because they’re growing in what was formerly deep, and deeply shaded, pine mulch.
A young scrub pine. There are lots of these. I’m sorry to say that, like the sawbriars, they won’t be permitted to stay. Their day is over, at least while I live here.
A common weed
Surprise surprise. The baby clover likes the compost that I put out for the squash.
The corn struggles in still-poor soil. I’m starting to understand what the soil needs, so next year it will be richer.
A squash bloom
A cucumber bloom (I think)
My first baby watermelon
A common weed
Flowers in the ditch
The ditch has been transformed. Back in March it was an ugly gash left by the bull dozer. The logging operation had ruined the ditch, so it had to be opened again to drain the roadway. For reasons I don’t completely understand, the ditch has healed much more quickly than any other area after I took out the pine trees.
Flowers in the ditch. Actually, this is a common briar. This year, us likes briars.
Runners from a bold briar sneak out of the ditch and try to take over the roadway. I say go for it.
The jungle in the ditch
For something like 50 pounds of clover seed, so far I have seen something like two clover blossoms. Two! But the rain has caused the clover to make another stand, so who knows what the future holds.
The clover tries again in July, having not done too well in April.
I believe this is a wild strawberry. It volunteered on the bare bank above the newly made driveway, the area that I have found most difficult to get anything to grow.
Baby peas. I planted these.
I’m not sure what this is. It’s in an area where I put a variety of heirloom seed, but for all I know it’s a volunteer weed of some sort. I guess I’ll find out after I see whether it produces anything I can eat. [Update: I have it from two experts — my sister and my friend Gavin — that this is okra. So it’s an heirloom variety of okra that I’d forgotten I planted.]
Looking down into the same bloom as in the photo above
A baby poplar tree makes a stand near the new pumphouse. Around here, poplars and maples are the first hardwoods to appear in the succession of species that leads to the recovery of a hardwood forest. This poor baby has relatives all around, and it probably came back from an old root rather than from a new seed.
… for when you just can’t wait any longer for the tomatoes to get ripe. These tomatoes are fried in a simple batter of whole wheat flour, water, a little baking powder, and a little salt. A generous portion of coconut oil went into the frying pan.