Wednesday, July 19, 2017

Nature Nerd Wednesdays

Welcome to Nature Nerd Wednesdays, your mid-week nature break to reconnect with the calming, refreshing, and inspiring effects of nature. Take a deep breath and enjoy...

We are well into the long, lazy days of summer now, and enjoying some very comfortable and sunny weather here in the Seattle area (although if I'm being honest, I've been desperate for a nice rainy day lately, for the familiar sound of water gurgling in the gutters and leaving the world all green and fresh and drippy).

Nothing says "lazy summer day" like a blue sky dotted with fluffy clouds that just beckon us to pull up a patch of grass and get lost in observing their slow procession across the sky, moved by winds that we cannot feel in the soporific warmth and stillness below. If you're lacking the time or access to view such a blue sky and fluffy clouds, take a look at the Nature 365 film below, which will be a nice stand-in for the time being.

Now, let's put into practice the "word of the day" shared recently on Twitter by writer Robert McFarlane:
Apricate - to bask in the sunshine.

Wednesday, July 12, 2017

Nature Nerd Wednesdays

Welcome to Nature Nerd Wednesdays, your mid-week nature break to reconnect with the calming, refreshing, and inspiring effects of nature. Take a deep breath and enjoy...

The photo above brings peace to my soul. Rolling hills of grass slope down to a pond obscured by leafy willows and reverberating with the deep croak of a bullfrog. A resident red-trailed hawk wheels overhead, just a tiny speck high in the blue sky above. Closer to ground level, the air is thick with chattering barn swallows and violet-green swallows swooping low through the humid morning air, catching a belly full of insects to take back to the hungry young mouths waiting in their nests. The ground below is still damp with dew, warmed by the morning sunlight and emanating the sweet scent of blooming clover buzzing with fuzzy bees.

Where did I have to go to find such a scene? It wasn't a remote wilderness hike or a special protected natural park. It was at the barn where I keep my horse, a place I visit several times per week. This is one of the many reasons I'm grateful to have been a lifelong horsewoman... since they live outdoors, my horses force me to go outdoors to care for them, and as a result I get to be immersed in scenes like the one pictured above. Most of the time I go gladly, knowing that I'll get to spend quality time outdoors, but other times, perhaps in the midst of a freezing spell in winter that forebodes frozen water buckets or a particularly rainy and dismal day in autumn that promises thick mud, it's a bit more of a chore to get myself out there.

We all have one of these places where we encounter nature not by choice but by necessity: a place we visit or pass through regularly because it's part of our schedule, our life's routine. It might be our own yard as we stroll to the mailbox; the walk across the parking lot into work; our drive home through a particularly scenic area; the ball field where we attend practice or watch games. Although we may be "all business" as we visit and pass through these places, it's worthwhile to also take advantage of the opportunity they offer us to connect with nature, and all the benefits it provides.

Here's a short video of my morning at the barn. My horse is a bit of a camera hog, but you can still pick up on some of the sights and sounds!

Where is the place you regularly encounter nature?

Wednesday, July 5, 2017

Nature Nerd Wednesdays

Welcome to Nature Nerd Wednesdays, your mid-week nature break to reconnect with the calming, refreshing, and inspiring effects of nature. Take a deep breath and enjoy...

Fireweed... how's this for nature's fireworks?

Yesterday was the Fourth of July, a holiday that is perhaps more well-known for blowing things up than it is for actually celebrating the independence of the United States. I've never been a fan of the holiday, because of the fireworks with their loud blasts, spent shells littering the street, and the smoggy air the next day. Not to mention their penchant for setting homes on fire and causing the loss of various bodily appendages.

Who would want that when we can just look outside and see natural "fireworks" far more spectacular than any set off by a fuse? We can point to the wildflowers bursting with color in yards, on trails, and along the roadside. When night falls, we can look up to the dark skies overhead and appreciate the stars twinkling silently, the Milky Way stretching from horizon to horizon, or the occasional meteor flashing through the atmosphere.

Take a look at the film below from Wild Northwest Beauty Photography, featuring plenty of natural "fireworks" in the Oregon skies.

Again, the line from the Christmas carol comes to mind, as "the silent stars go by." Rather the silent spectacle of stars than the jarring explosions of sulfurous fireworks! But then I got to thinking: are stars silent? If we were to stand right next to the sun (without burning up, of course), what would we hear? I imagined that the fiery furnace of hydrogen fusing into helium would sound like the roar of a rocket booster, or perhaps it sizzles like an egg being dropped into a sputtering skillet. Perhaps it was a quiet whoosh like a furnace igniting, or maybe it was loud and explosive after all, like an entire fireworks stand going up at once. After doing a bit of googling, wouldn't you know, I discovered there are researchers aplenty studying the sounds of the sun. Researchers at Stanford University have compiled several different audio recordings of the sun. Take a listen!

The sun is much quieter than I had expected! As it turns out, the low grumble of fusion in our closest star is at a frequency too low to be heard by our limited human ears. With the assistance of technology, we find out that the sun sounds more like the murmur of an idling engine than exploding fireworks... a sound that I discovered is excellent white noise for fussy babies, as I listened to the solar audio recordings with my two-month-old son on my lap.

Now if only we could celebrate the Fourth of July by pulling up lawn chairs in the gathering dusk, tilting our heads heavenward and relaxing to the murmuring stars twinkling above. And maybe throw in some ice cream. Who's with me?