Aside from hygienic herons and baby duckies, one can see a profusion of wild and cultivated flowers along the North Creek trail. Always makes for a nice macro experience.
bit o’ fun
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Cantina Collage o' the Week: Rhodies
I never much liked rhododendrons much, growing up. All the ones I’d seen were just plants with big boring green leaves. I didn’t know what all the fuss was about.
Then I moved up here, and the place seemed covered in plants with big boring green leaves. But in mid-spring, the things exploded with blooms. I’d never seen anything quite like them. All of the northwest bursts with blossoms in huge, colorful clusters. Some of the rhodies are the size of shrubs, and some of them are trees. Trees, covered in ginormous flowers.
The street that leads up to my complex becomes a corridor of color every spring, between the rhodies, the bulbs, and the fruit trees. It’s one of the reasons I haven’t moved. I love that street.
These are some of the rhodies that rioted there this spring:
And a bee for scale:
I’m okay with the big boring green leaves now. I know what they’ll get up to for several weeks next spring. In fact, I fully intend to hie me down to the Rhododendron Species Garden again so that my Sony Cyber-Shot can do it justice. Did I mention ginormous trees with huge flowers on?
Cantina Collage o' the Week: Juanita Bay Flowers
I haven’t restocked on quotes yet, so we’ll make do with collages. Horrible torture, I know: I’m making you look at pretty things.
These are some of the many flowers I made friends with when my intrepid companion and I went to Juanita Bay in May, which adventure I meant to write up and completely forgot about.
You’ll notice Pacific Bleeding Heart in the bottom right, there. I’d thought it was something they planted, so I’d forgotten all about it. Funny how we get so much more excited when we know they’re wild. At least, I do.
The purple ones against a blue sky in the bottom center were on a tree. A huge tree. A huge tree absolutely covered in purple flowers:
And from another angle in which you can see the flowers a bit better:
If anybody knows what it is, I’d count it a kindness if you let me know.
I’ll write up that adventure here eventually – just wait till you see the turtles!
How to Get Mistaken for a Geologist
One of the flattering (and alarming) things to have emerged from getting linked by Pharyngula was having a few folks mistake me for a really real geologist. I’m not a real geologist (but I play one on the intertoobz). It wasn’t quite the same shock as getting adopted by the geoblogosphere, but ran a close second. This isn’t the second time I’ve been mistaken for an actual working geologist. When I start babbling about subduction zones and plate tectonics in real life, people who haven’t met me yet automatically assume I’m a professional.
How does that happen?
This, combined with a friend asking how one goes about self-teaching, led me to pondering. And then my tongue adhered to my cheek. What results is the following Sooper Sekrit Manual, in which I explain how you, too, could Get Mistaken For a Geologist. With minor adjustments, you can apply it to any branch of science.
1. Read blogs.
Oh, hey, look, you are! But I mean read blogs by actual geologists, too. There’s one hell of an education awaiting you on the internet. It’s like sitting in a field full of geologists, and they’re teaching you what they know. They’ll show you wonders and introduce you to new concepts and get you conversant in the life and work of a geologist. They’ll even answer questions!
2. Read books.
Read deeply and widely, everything from pop sci to textbooks. Yes, I read textbooks for fun. I am one of Those People. It can be rough going at first, but if you read absolutely everything reputable you can get your hands on, you’ll end up absorbing far more than you realize. Next thing you know, you’ll be pontificating on things like thrust faults and metamorphism, throwing around $100 words like they’re pennies, and observers will believe you have an expensive education. It’s a lot of fun, especially when you tell them all you’ve got is a GED and a handful of college credits. Have a camera handy: the look on their faces is priceless.
3. Read papers
Once those books which in the introduction explain that the average layperson may find it tough going because the author was writing for serious students and professionals no longer daunt you, head over to Google Scholar and seek out the actual scientific literature. You’d be amazed how much is actually available for free. You’d be even more amazed at how much of it you can actually comprehend. It’s the best way to get in-depth information on a particular aspect of geology. It’s also fascinating to see how science is done. And then you’ll have a bag full of $1000 words to throw around like confetti.
4. Learn the lingo
Oh, look, you already have. Side effect of all that reading you’re doing. I’m also writing a book on just that subject, so you’ll soon have a handy guide.
5. Befriend geologists
Or let them befriend you. They’re a lively, fascinating bunch, more than willing to let layfolk who have an interest and the willingness to learn hang about with them, and they’ll show you things like how to properly use a rock hammer and what a Brunton compass is for. They will make you look upon this world with wonder and awe and appreciation. And do they ever know how to party!
6. Collect rocks
Be one of those people who loves rocks so much they’re willing to schlep ten thousand pounds’ worth out of the wilderness because they wanted just one more hand sample. And I’m not talking about the really perfect mineral specimens and gemstones and all that other stuff that everybody in the universe likes. I’m talking about mudstones and basalts and all of those kinds of rocks that are deadly-dull to the average human being.
7. Dress in geo gear
Not that there’s a standard uniform, but we’re talking clothes and shoes suitable for long, dirty hikes over outcrops in all sorts of weather. If you want to be mistaken for a geologist, you can’t wander around in fancy shoes dressed like you’re about to meet with the CEO about a promotion to the corner office.
8. Carry a rock hammer and hand lens
Not everywhere. Just out in the field. When you go on hikes, have a hammer with you specifically made for bashing rocks with. Geologists know that a rock can look very different when broken open, due to the effects of weathering. So they don safety goggles, pick up a hammer, and whammo. Then they whip out a hand lens to study the fresh face exposed. They may occasionally nibble on the rock in order to determine what it is, but this is optional if all you’re wanting to do is pass. I don’t think it’s common knowledge among layfolk yet that geologists can discern a lot about a rock by consuming bits of it.
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| I think we should get jackets made with this logo – who’s with me? |
9. Beer
If you want to be mistaken for a geologist, you must understand beer. You must be prepared to discuss, drink, and praise beer. You will notice that beer comes up a lot. Beer’s importance to geology cannot be emphasized enough.
There you go. All you need to know in order to be mistaken for a really real geologist. As for why you’d want to be mistaken for one, well, that is because geologists are teh awesome and geology is one of the most important, most interesting, and most beautiful sciences in existence.
And there’s beer. Never, ever, forget the beer.
There. Now You Can't Say I Never Give You Flowers
So my intrepid companion and I went to Madrona Park on Wednesday. I’ve mentioned it before – it is, hands-down, one of the best places to go in Seattle on a sunny day. The views are to die for, and I’ll be doing you up a proper post soon with geology and much better photos than the last time. My old POS camera could not in any way do it justice.
Thing is, when I go out on these rambles, I come away with all these amazing photos I want to show you, but which don’t merit a post of their own. They don’t even seem to justify a little slideshow, really. And there may be a solution to that. When I was playing around with different photo-editing tools trying to find something that would allow me to combine several LIDAR images into one simple package, I found this little autocollage thingy that’s got a free trial. It didn’t work for LIDAR, but it seems ideal for those random pics I think you all would like but don’t wish to bombard you with individually.
So here is a nice little autocollage of the wildflowers at Madrona Park.
What do you think? You like? You want more? Autocollages of interesting rocks and other yummy things could be in your future, if you want them to be. All I’d have to do is spend $20 on the program, and we’d even be rid of the watermark. I’m totally down with that.
We’ll try it out on a few other bits, and if enough people enjoy them, we’ll continue on after the trial expires.
Happy Birthday, America!
Our very own Woozle has written you a birfdai song:
It’s going to be soooo hard not to sing the chorus whilst standing in line for my own personal groping session when next I fly…
For Roger: Disco Ball
The rapture happened, my darlings. Well, for me. Well, rapture in one sense, anyway. After an early evening in with the new episode of Doctor Who (and what better evidence that this is, indeed, the Tribulation than the fact that we now have to wait two bloody weeks for the second part of this two-parter?), my friends and I headed out to the Peacemakers concert.
It. Was. Fantastic.
But it’s the Peacemakers, so those of you who know what kind of show the Peacemakers put on already knew that.
I’ll have plenty more pics and gushing a bit later, but I wanted to post Roger’s disco ball first thing. He loved that thing. So here it is, in all its glory:
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| Disco Ball at Neumos |
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| Roger and Nick with Disco Ball Overhead |
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| Peacemakers con Disco Ball |
And, amazingly, video in which both sight and sound are relatively clear:
Have I mentioned lately that I love my camera almost as much as I love the Peacemakers?
If there’s a better way to spend the end of the world, I can’t really think of it – unless, of course, it’s one of their Mexico shows. But we wouldn’t have had a disco ball there, so perhaps this worked out for the best.
My Cat the Geology Fan
A few of us on Twitter were recently discussing the feasibility of sticking cats in washes in order to create some geology lolcats. This is the closest my cat will ever come to a dry wash. She’s not what you might call a fan of the great outdoors. But, apparently, she likes pop geo books just fine:
If you’re inspired to caption, knock yourselves out. I’d love to see the result!
I wish I could believe she really was interested in geology, but I think she was just trying to impress the neighbor, who was visiting us for the first time. She’s more of a Doctor Who fan at heart. Here’s yet another bit of evidence:
Note how she’s shifted them so they form a nice, comfy arc along her back. And she’s dragged her green tissue paper closer so she can have all of her great loves in one place. This is why I will never be able to clear my living room floor of Doctor Who DVDs, a tattered old piece of cardboard from an Amazon shipment, and that stupid piece of tissue paper: she’d kill me if I tried. All right, granted, she attempts to kill me anyway, but only as an afterthought. She’d be motivated to murder if I ever put things away.
If blogging ever suddenly ceases, at least you’ll know what happened to me.
A Burst of Butterflies
One of the reasons I’m looking forward to summer: I’ll get to befriend butterflies again.
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| Brilliant blue, snapped by my intrepid companion |
When we were up at Summer Falls last year, we had little blue butterflies fluttering all round us. They got very interested in my bag when I went to the bathroom, and when we laid down in the grass to admire the falls, they wandered all over us. That’s a kind of magic, that is.
Come enjoy them with me.
Here’s another of the blues, also shot by my intrepid companion:
This would seem to be a fine example of Boisduval’s Blue Butterfly, which make eastern Washington pretty.
On the other side of the state (and the other side of summer), we came across a butterfly bonanza in the Olympics. We’d come up for the geology and the alpine flowers, but the fields full of fluttering butterflies were a nice bonus.
We found this one along the trail:
I am teh suck at butterfly identification, but I’m fairly certain this is a fritillary of some sort. Maybe genus Boloria, even. I wouldn’t swear to it. All I really know is it’s a butterfly. It’s purty. That’s good enough to be going on with.
And the meadow up by the visitor’s center was filled with butterflies, all sizes and colors.
I found this species fascinating, such a delicate, almost transparent white with garnet-and-gray markings:
It’s very probably a Clodius Parnassian.
This one, I believe, is a relative of those little blues we saw at Summer Falls:
Yes, I know it’s brown, not blue. But if it’s what I think it is, it’s actually a blue. It’s a female, so it’s brown. Clear?
Didn’t think so. Look, just go read up on Boisduval’s Blue Butterfly here at this link, and all should become sort of clearer. Boisduval’s Blues are at least a good starting point for anyone who wants to figure out what the lady above is.
And then, if you’re really enterprising, you can head over here and figure out what the delight below is, because I’m stumped.
We chased this swallowtail along the trail a bit, until it found a fine few places to pose:
I think it’s an Ainse Swallowtail. I know it’s a swallowtail for certain. See it’s tail?
It’s a little hard to see, but those elegant sweeping points are a dead giveaway for a swallowtail. Unless I’m wrong and it’s a dead giveaway for something else.
He reminds me a bit of the ginormous yellow swallowtail my mom and I found in Oak Creek Canyon once, when I was a kid. It came home with us and lived in my bedroom for a while, hanging around on my curtains, and sometimes with the printed butterflies on my bedspread. One of the most beautiful things I’d ever seen. These days, I leave them where I found them – photographs are quite enough, thanks.
On our second day in the Olympics, we found quite a lot of little butterflies flitting all around the lake up by the dam. They were too busy to pose much, but we got a couple of good shots. I love this one, because it looks like the butterfly’s stretching up to say “Oh, hai!” to the bug above:
And then there was the pretty orange one having a nice rest in the road:
It’s probably a comma of some description. Gray Comma? Green Comma? Hoary Comma? Other people, better people, more detail-oriented people with a passion for taxonomy are welcome to weigh in. I’m just going to enjoy the fact that there’s a butterfly species that shares the name of one of my favorite pieces of punctuation.
And while you’re bedazzled by butterflies, you should head over to Chris Carvalho’s site and check out his butterfly photography. Michael Klaas, aka @UncoveredEarth, directed me to him when I put out my pathetic plea for help on Twitter. Gorgeous, utterly gorgeous stuff.
Butterflies are wonderful. They’re like living gems, hanging in the air. I hope we see quite a lot more this summer, going about their brief and beautiful lives.
Fossil Freeway Redux
So last year, remember, one of the first adventures we engaged in was a little jaunt along the Fossil Freeway. What? You don’t? You don’t recall every single word I’ve ever written?
Sigh.
Well, go read that post, then. And then click this link and listen to the song “I Am A Paleobotanist,” because yea, verily, it is teh awesome, and you all deserve a chance to get your science geek on with rock and roll.
And for extra science singing madness, if you haven’t already, don’t miss Christie Wilcox singing “Extinction’s a Bitch.” Then immediately go follow her on Twitter, because if she hits 2,000 followers by May, we’ll get more songs!
(Tip o’ the shot glass to @Laelaps.)
(And yes, for those who were wondering, I don’t expect you to recall every single word I’ve ever written. It’s just that the opportunity for melodrama was knocking, and I answered the door thinking it was Jehovah’s Witnesses. There I was, expecting entertainment… le sigh.)