Brooklyn Botanic Garden: Early Spring

Is this a dusting of snow around the gnarled old tree?

No, it's crocuses, and a small patch of snow-drops!

A nearby sign identified these as "Upright Wild Ginger"

I love the bright orange inside the pale purple petals, and the narrow stripey grasses.

Move over, mille-fleurs tapestries - this is the real deal.

A field of snow-drops.

Peering out of the wind-swept structures. 

Dwarf Iris.

Irises in violet...

...standard sky-blue...

...and this phenomenal pale sea-green.

Ye Olde Hill-and-Pond Garden

I also took pictures of Marisa Tomei (My Cousin Vinny) and Maurice Sendak (Where the Wild Things Are,
What Do You Say Dear?) on the celebrity walk, but only Mel Brooks came out ok.

Rin Tin Tin is not Tin Tin

I learned something important today: Rin Tin Tin is different from Tin Tin.  It's that extra "Rin" that indicates we should look out for two extra legs and a lot more hair.

A friend invited me to see Clash of the Wolves, a silent film from 1925, starring Rin Tin Tin as Lobo, Leader of the Wolf Pack.   It was such a hoot!  The hapless human protagonists are helpless before the machinations of the human villain; only Lobo has the wits and resourcefulness to save them from fates worse than death.  Or - actually, come to think of it, I think the fate that was intended for them was just death.  Sorry about that, I got carried away.

In any event, over the course of the movie, Lobo becomes so civilized that his attacks on the villain are confined to tearing of clothing (oh, the humanity! think of the tailoring bills!).  Lobo nonetheless manages to engineer a happy ending by sending out the dinnertime howl to his old wolf pack, who gamely bypass not only the hero and heroine, but also the villain's horse, in order to descend solely upon the villain.   (This is tastefully done behind a stand of grasses so we do not have to see any open-mouthed chewing by the wolf pack, which could set a poor example for impressionable young children.)

Very fun movie.

Merry Gathering of the Viola Folk

Caught a performance of Camerata Notturna with Paul Neubauer Saturday night:

Bartok: Romanian Folk Dances
Hindemith: Trauermusik
Glière: Two Concert Pieces for Viola and String Orchestra (New York Premiere)
Beethoven: Symphony No. 6 "Pastoral"

It was delightful, as always, although the "traurig" piece didn't seem much more mournful than the Glière pieces that Mr. Neubauer described as "sunny"...

After the intermission, Mr. Yates took us on a quick preview tour of Beethoven's 6th.  He wanted to rehabilitate it vis a vis the 5th, and I thought for a few moments that he was going to give us new horizons in music appreciation (as Peter Schickele did for the 5th).

Instead, Mr. Yates gave us some "hear and tell" -- he had the musicians play short excerpts as he explained what to listen for (e.g., abstract tuneless motifs that build in power much like the 5th).  It was pretty cool for us laypersons.

Then, without further ado, they launched into the symphony itself.  I think this was the most passionately played version of the Pastoral Symphony I've heard so far - or at least, much livelier than I'd remembered.

(The last time I'd seen it performed was with a friend who found that the piece induced intense drowsiness; ironically, he'd selected the concert because he figured Beethoven would be sufficiently dramatic to keep him awake.)

The Last Battle

I just re-read the C.S. Lewis novel for my class.  I find the book difficult to read, in the sense that it is really painful to see the build-up to disaster when you know what is coming.  The schemes of the Ape and his manipulation of Puzzle, and all of Tirian's mistakes - they're just so horrible, and so heart-wrenching.

There are also several scenes I can't read without crying, such as the encounter between Emeth and Aslan. In some places, I think it is probably for largely the same reason that I often tear up when I read about people who have risked death for their faith.  It's so moving to see people who are so sure of what they believe that they are willing to stake everything on it, literally everything.  There are aspects of Lewis's theology that I want so very much to be true - and I just don't know for sure. I hope, but I do not know.  And I don't know that I would stand true in a pinch the way that Lewis's characters do; one never does know that sort of thing, unless one is put to the test (and one of course hopes to be spared that particular test).

Of course, in the era of suicide bombers, I immediately feel the need to clarify - risking death for your faith is entirely different from killing yourself and/or a bunch of other folks to somehow "please" God.  And actually, Lewis addresses this point at least obliquely in The Last Battle.  Aslan says:  "[I]f any man do a cruelty in my name, then, though he says the name Aslan, it is Tash whom he serves and by Tash his deed is accepted."

Spouse or Parent

I recently went for some of my "annual" medical checkups.  One of them was the first in 3 or 6 years, the other was a first-ever.  (OK, so I'm not so good with the doctor visits.)

The first-ever visit was a long-overdue trip to get all my moles checked out, something I probably should have started doing when I was 18 since I'm pretty much in the highest of high-risk groups.  When I filled out the patient intake form, the second page somewhat surprisingly asked me to identify my Spouse / Parent.  Surely, in an ideal world, one might have both?  But I've been on enough church field trips to recognize a next-of-kin notification form when I see one, so I dutifully filled out my mom's name and phone number.  I was going to put my dad's name too, but I reckoned that the same number works for both and if anyone ever had to call, they'd probably figure things out one way or another.

During the body scan (which was a lot less high-tech than I was imagining), the doctor decided to take a core sample from a birth mark on my scalp.  This was going to require a few tiny stitches, which would need to be taken out later, and he asked if my partner was squeamish.  Slightly puzzled, but figuring that he must have simply assumed that someone my age would be partnered one way or another, I explained that I live alone.  A brief discussion revealed what you, gentle reader, have doubtless grasped right away: I had totally misread the form.

The Last Day

I was leaving at 1:30 p.m.  What to do until then?  Well, first off L told me all about the Warrior Cats books (which she'd inhaled the first two days I was there), and all the various cat clans and dynamics.  That was pretty cool - it seems like a richly imagined world.  ThunderClan are the good guys, ShadowClan are the bad guys, and then the other two clans are aligned as well in a delicate balance of power.  Cats who are under the care of the Twolegs are derided as Kittypets.  (When L was describing ShadowClan's rejection of a newborn kitten who was born a Kittypet but brought over to be raised free with the Warrior Cats, it reminded me of Voldemort's treatment of Mudbloods.)

When other members of the household were up and about, we went out to breakfast at the Over Easy (they have a cute logo on their sign that incorporates a rising sun / fried egg).  I got my usual order-out breakfast, scrambled egg on an english muffin ... with a side of bacon.  Yum!

R went rollerblading while the guys played tennis and I hung out with the girls.  C wanted me to read some books from the Magic Tree House series, so I obliged.  We read #8 and 9, which feature a brother and sister, Jack and Annie, who travel through space and time on quests at the request of Morgan Lefay (who turns out to be a lot nicer than expected).  One of the funny things in these books is that Jack is always getting exasperated with Annie (who typically wants to barge in without a plan - much like Dr. Who), and he repeatedly expresses his exasperation with her by saying "Oh, brother!"  Once I pointed this out to the girls, they thought it was hilarious.  So then I started sometimes substituting in "Oh, sister!" instead - and that was really well received. If only all audiences were as easily entertained!

When R came back, though, I started jonesing for a skating jaunt of my own. I made it a quick trip to the graveyard and back.

The day was a bit overcast, but there were some surprisingly good bird-glimpsing opportunities en route.

On a dead tree branch

On top of mangroves

The graveyard

Of course I ended up going into the ocean one more time just when I needed to get things dried and packed, but it was all very fun.  C is a mermaid with great powers to control the waves, and to talk to birds and animals, and she told me all about it.  (In case you're curious about the hierarchy, C is the Queen Mermaid, and there are just 10 Princesses.  I am not eligible to be a mermaid, because - alas - I did not start early enough.)  

The girls are both amazing in the water. I kept looking for gills, but I couldn't see them.

The sorrow of parting was diminished somewhat because I had company to the airport (thanks B!) and even a little bit beyond since D had to change planes at JFK.  As planned, I got back in time for the Monday night lecture and Tuesday morning back in the office.  Sigh.

Wildlife Drive

It is a truth seldom acknowledged, that no trip to paradise is complete without a trek out to the local wildlife refuge.

I tried to go with R and D, but misunderstood the bike situation and thus took a bike that was far too big for me.  After going nearly two miles standing up the whole way, I finally turned back and got a bike that actually fit, but that meant that I ended up flying solo on this one.  On the upside, it meant I got to spend as much time as I wanted gazing on the wildlife.  That came in very handy, as it turns out, since I spent about an hour watching one bird about halfway through the park.

But even while I was waiting to pay my admission fee, I felt I'd already gotten my money's worth because I saw a cattle egret catch and eat a lizard (possibly a brown anole - a non-native species).  The meal dangled clearly out of the bird's mouth - legs and tail splayed out - and the bird was so close to me!  Of course, I couldn't get my camera out in time to catch the egret mid-snack.  

If this cattle egret is looking a bit smug, it's because he just
caught and ate a lizard for a nice little pre-dinner snack.

The fish were jumping! Two or three times I saw a foot-long fish jump a foot or two out of the water.

If you look closely, you may be able to see the fish near the mangrove roots; they're all facing right,

Lizards are not exactly rare on the island, but they don't usually stand so still and close for a shot like this:

Brown anole (?) posing cool as can be.

I've lost most of my skill at naming birds, and I didn't bring any of our birding books.  But I think this might be a great blue heron:

Great blue heron

At a particular turn-off, you get to walk through (and over) a mangrove area to go look out at the bay.  The one sighting you're guaranteed -- if you know to look for it (or rather, them)?  Mangrove crabs!  They're cool scavengers... and very distinctly bug-like:

Mangrove crab.

 We have red and white mangroves in this area.  According to the Florida DEP:

The red mangrove is easily identified by its tangled, reddish roots called "prop-roots". These roots have earned mangroves the title, "walking trees". This mangrove, in particular, appears to be standing or walking on the surface of the water.

Tangle of mangrove roots.

(The red mangroves survive the harsh marine environment by excluding salt; the white and black do so by excreting salt, and that apparently allows them to thrive in saltier waters than the reds.)

A mangrove crab lurks near every knot or burl...

After these adventures, I came across a yellow crowned night heron.  Apparently those antennae-like feathers are for the mating season.

Yellow crowned night heron

I stopped to watch, and watch, and watch, because he was so close (great view) and so persistent in stalking and catching his prey - which seemed to be little crabs.

Mmmm. Crab legs!

Loved the bright orange eyes, and the beautifully classy black-and-white detailing on the body.

After communing with the heron for a long while, I moved on.

Ibis.

One leg, two leg.

When I got to the place where we sometimes see alligators, my phone rang.  It was my brother.  He wanted to know where I was and did I need help getting home.

Well, it was starting to get dusk...  I caved.

Amazing Journeys

R and the girls found this crab hanging out in the chlorinated swimming pool... so they stuck him in a bucket and transferred him to the edge of the sea.  He scuttled over to the salt water.  As the impromptu rescue crew returned to their regular activities, I ran back inside to grab my camera.  I was wondering if I'd be able to find the crab again when I got back.  Right about where I'd last seen him, there was a seagull looking down with a little bit too much interest...  As I came on the scene, the seagull took off, and sure enough our friend the crab had narrowly escaped being the main course for brunch!

Ghost Crab

Identification courtesy of my wise friend SJ:

You've got yourself a ghost crab! I love these guys--they are gentle but fast. They make hole burrows at the high tide mark but have to bathe their lungs in the sea. Go out on the beach on a summer evening with a flashlight and see how many you can find!

I'd made a bit of a breakthrough with all the tweaking and re-tweaking of my paper, so I returned for a final review and re-submitted the revised version.  It's about as good as it is going to get without a complete change of topic.  So I'm cautiously optimistic this time...

 Back at the pool, L was practicing standing on a boogie board.

A moment of triumph!

The Weekender: Southern Edition

Egrets on my way to the grocery store yesterday evening:

Went skating for two hours this afternoon. On the way out, everyone else was going the other way, but that worked out well, because they all smiled at me. Very cheering.  Of course, they were all on their way back to town... so they'd gotten a much earlier start than me.

At one point, I was passing by three dismounted bicyclists who were just off the side of the path.  And then my brain processed what I'd seen out of the corner of my eye. That lump in the grass... probably worth turning back for a closer look:

The bicyclists were crowding in around the turtle a bit, which bothered me.  Seemed like it might be  needlessly stressful for the creature.  The turtle was scrabbling its hind legs into the dirt a bit, as if to dig a hole, although not with any particular urgency.  And then one of the guys stepped even closer, and reached down and touched the turtle, began actually lifting it up.  The turtle retreated into its shell -- and I was so flabbergasted I said something like "You're not touching it, are you?!"  The guy backed off (he may have meant to check the turtle's underbelly for markings, but who knows), and after another minute, he and his friends rode away.  The turtle then came out again and scurried off with all deliberate speed.  

In all fairness, it's possible the guys were wildlife experts or even turtle wranglers who happened to be out for a bike ride.  I guess I've just had it drilled into my head for so long that you don't touch wildlife (and instead keep a respectful distance for the safety and well-being of everyone involved), that my first reaction was a mixture of horrified indignation and worry that they were either going to flip the turtle over and leave it helpless, or get themselves clawed or bitten.

It was a beautiful day, partly sunny, but breezy and warm.  It cooled off quickly under the cloudy skies as evening fell.

R.I.P Memorial Bridge (1920-2012)

The New Hampshire Department of Transportation has removed the middle part of the bridge which has connected Portsmouth NH with Kittery ME since it opened in 1923.  Rumor has it that the center span weighed 2 million pounds.  According to the NHDOT website:

The public is welcome to observe the lift span removal and float-out operations from safe nearby locations. While the work zone itself is not open to the public, good views can be obtained from Prescott Park, Four Tree Island, and Peirce Island. Archer Western Contractors, of Canton, Massachusetts is the general contractor for the $81.4 million project, which has a completion date of July 2013 to open the new bridge to vehicle, bicycle and pedestrian traffic.

I took a few pictures today because I happened to be in the neighborhood; but there is ample amateur coverage by locals who have been rushing over to check things out at key stages of the project as the center span was cut loose and lowered onto a barge etc.   You can check out progress in demolition (and perhaps eventually the installation of the new bridge) via the Portsmouth webcam.

For the time being, the powers that be have stuck the central span next to the remaining portion on the NH side. Apparently it will be shipped out to Massachusetts on Wednesday around noon.  

A giant erector set!

Although the local citizenry were not consulted about the design of the new bridge,
they may have a say in how the decorative elements of the old bridge are displayed. 

If you were wondering where to go for all your barging needs...

Side view of a scrap pile

Head-on view of the scrap pile.