On holler walks this week I collected images of some open flower phenophases, and a beetle I’ve been trying to photograph for 17 years.
In March I posted some information and photos of plants I observe for Penn State’s “shady invader” project. This week I figured out that the lone honeysuckle bush in the holler is an Amur honeysuckle, another one of the species being tracked.
From the article:
Earth Observing-1 wasn’t supposed to survive as long as it did. Operating on a shoestring budget, the spartan satellite outlasted its warranty 15-fold, and changed the way we do space-based imaging of our planet.
The satellite trained its observant lens on the ashes of the 9/11 terrorist attacks. It captured the flood that followed in Hurricane Katrina’s wake. It took stock of the devastating tsunami that hit Japan in 2011. It was the first to map active lava flows from space, and the first to track re-growth in the deforested Amazon.
But all things must pass. EO-1 shut down last Thursday, in orbit, some 440 miles above Earth. It was 17.
Read more of this great story at The Atlantic — Source: An Elegy for Earth-Observing 1 – The Atlantic
Awesome research…and practice! From the article:
Just as birders can identify birds by their melodious calls, David George Haskell can distinguish trees by their sounds. The task is especially easy when it rains, as it so often does in the Ecuadorian rainforest. Depending on the shapes and sizes of their leaves, the different plants react to falling drops by producing “a splatter of metallic sparks” or “a low, clean, woody thump” or “a speed-typist’s clatter.” Every species has its own song. Train your ears (and abandon the distracting echoes of a plastic rain jacket) and you can carry out a botanical census through sound alone.
New activity in the holler has kind of left me breathless this week — and with a lot of images in my photo files!
This one, and the author’s previous essay, are worth reading, imo. From the article: Last month, I wrote an essay about the media’s overuse of Appalachia – and particularly West Virginia – as a mythic Trump Country during the election cycle. I used the word ‘mythic’ not to deny the existence of Appalachian Trump supporters, but to instead underscore that writers and photographers from prestige outlets relied on mythic qualities of Appalachia and its working class to give their pieces traction and to shore up an emerging narrative about economic anxiety and the white working class. This strategy, I concluded, was historically consistent with the broad “othering” of Appalachia as a place that represents the failures of American progress and helped explain why writers preferred to profile Appalachian Trump supporters as opposed to Trump supporters in New York, New Jersey, Florida, Washington, or other geographies that might complicate that narrative.