Sunday, June 5, 2011
The Mappist
I've just finished listening to a reading of "The Mappist," a story by Barry Lopez read by Joe Spano on Selected Shorts. Remarkable. It doesn't seem to be available in an online archive, but it's in print. Should be read out loud.
Info at http://www.wnyc.org/shows/shorts/2009/dec/06/.
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Highlights of an east coast/west coast January
My six weeks of adventure time is winding down; by next Tuesday I'll be back at work. So what have I made of my time off this winter?
Christmas in Brooklyn was certainly memorable: a blizzard, good eating at numerous restaurants--some new and some familiar. A visit to the High Line in winter. It was a particular pleasure to return to Mogador for dinner with Anna and Kate. Mimi's Hummus was a welcome discovery on Cortelyou Road. Frankie's in Carroll Gardens was a revelation and a snowy brunch at The Farm on Cortelyou.
Mid January in San Francisco was also rich--four days in North Beach and then six more in Glen Park. Much warmer-than Ithaca weather although the locals were complaining. Hey, what's not to like about 50s and low 60s during the mostly sunny days? The Slanted Door in the Ferry Building was memorable. A day trip to Muir Woods and Stinson Beach was a major highlight. Muir Woods is overwhelming. The mass, old redwood trees, the mounds of dead leaves and branches, and the canyonate lighting, rich patches of brilliant sunlight in the darkness of midday. Compelling.
I also enjoyed the Italian stone pines in Washington Park. The eucalytus were in bloom around Coit Tower. The air was full of Anna's hummingbirds, parrots, and warblers. Wow. Lots of trees and shrubs in bloom during the winter coolness and damp.
Christmas in Brooklyn was certainly memorable: a blizzard, good eating at numerous restaurants--some new and some familiar. A visit to the High Line in winter. It was a particular pleasure to return to Mogador for dinner with Anna and Kate. Mimi's Hummus was a welcome discovery on Cortelyou Road. Frankie's in Carroll Gardens was a revelation and a snowy brunch at The Farm on Cortelyou.
Mid January in San Francisco was also rich--four days in North Beach and then six more in Glen Park. Much warmer-than Ithaca weather although the locals were complaining. Hey, what's not to like about 50s and low 60s during the mostly sunny days? The Slanted Door in the Ferry Building was memorable. A day trip to Muir Woods and Stinson Beach was a major highlight. Muir Woods is overwhelming. The mass, old redwood trees, the mounds of dead leaves and branches, and the canyonate lighting, rich patches of brilliant sunlight in the darkness of midday. Compelling.
I also enjoyed the Italian stone pines in Washington Park. The eucalytus were in bloom around Coit Tower. The air was full of Anna's hummingbirds, parrots, and warblers. Wow. Lots of trees and shrubs in bloom during the winter coolness and damp.
Saturday, January 1, 2011
Yard Boy Snowed in in the Big City
Jane and I were in Brooklyn with Kate and Anna for a week over Christmas where we got an up close experience of a nor'easter that spawned a mighty, windy snowstorm.
The storm started about 10:30 Sunday morning the 26th. Blizzard warnings were up. We were in Manhattan shopping and visiting the Met until 12:30 or so. When the snow started, it was steady but fairly light. Back in Brooklyn about 1 pm the north wind and the snow started increasing in intensity. After a fine late lunch at the The Farm on Cortelyou Road, we headed to Kate's 5th floor apartment to wait and watch. By dark the wind was howling and the snow flying by horizontally. Traffic had a ground to a halt as the snow continued to pile up. Visibility was minimal. Thirty-five mph winds gusting to fifty blew the snow into 4-foot drifts and howled at the window.
When we walked to our B&B late Sunday night, I taped plastic bags over my running shoes to wade through the snowy streets. Never thought to take my snow boots.
Streets were blocked by abandoned vehicles of every description. A city bus was crosswise on Cortelyou Road. Taxis, cars, vans, ambulances--the impassable streets were filled with stuck vehicles. The wind blew the snow into long streamers; on the downwind side, parked cars were buried in deep snow.
Monday morning the sun came out. The snow was over but the wind blew as strongly as ever. Only the major streets--Coney Island Avenue and Ocean Parkway had even an occasional motor vehicle. Everything else was frozen in place. Hard to tell how much snow fell because of the wind--easily 18 to 20 inches, though. Everything was simply buried. People walking on the unplowed streets passed by high on a causeway of snow.
Tuesday was little different from Monday--cars buried, streets unplowed, wind howling and blowing and drifting the snow.
We had planned to leave on Tuesday, but nothing could move on the side streets where we were parked; traffic was barely moving on main arteries that were barely passable.
The stalled MTA bus in the background blocked Cortelyou for three days. Every other vehicle visible in this view was stuck, too.
Early Wednesday morning, a snowplow cleared Rugby Road. After breakfast and a final shovel job to clear the snow between our car and the snowplow track, we headed out of town, back to an Ithaca with just a trace of snow on the ground, our blizzard adventure over.
The storm started about 10:30 Sunday morning the 26th. Blizzard warnings were up. We were in Manhattan shopping and visiting the Met until 12:30 or so. When the snow started, it was steady but fairly light. Back in Brooklyn about 1 pm the north wind and the snow started increasing in intensity. After a fine late lunch at the The Farm on Cortelyou Road, we headed to Kate's 5th floor apartment to wait and watch. By dark the wind was howling and the snow flying by horizontally. Traffic had a ground to a halt as the snow continued to pile up. Visibility was minimal. Thirty-five mph winds gusting to fifty blew the snow into 4-foot drifts and howled at the window.
When we walked to our B&B late Sunday night, I taped plastic bags over my running shoes to wade through the snowy streets. Never thought to take my snow boots.
Streets were blocked by abandoned vehicles of every description. A city bus was crosswise on Cortelyou Road. Taxis, cars, vans, ambulances--the impassable streets were filled with stuck vehicles. The wind blew the snow into long streamers; on the downwind side, parked cars were buried in deep snow.
Cortelyou Road Sunday night:
Monday morning the sun came out. The snow was over but the wind blew as strongly as ever. Only the major streets--Coney Island Avenue and Ocean Parkway had even an occasional motor vehicle. Everything else was frozen in place. Hard to tell how much snow fell because of the wind--easily 18 to 20 inches, though. Everything was simply buried. People walking on the unplowed streets passed by high on a causeway of snow.
Anna waded into one of the drifts:
Tuesday was little different from Monday--cars buried, streets unplowed, wind howling and blowing and drifting the snow.
We had planned to leave on Tuesday, but nothing could move on the side streets where we were parked; traffic was barely moving on main arteries that were barely passable.
Our street on Tuesday morning:
The stalled MTA bus in the background blocked Cortelyou for three days. Every other vehicle visible in this view was stuck, too.
Early Wednesday morning, a snowplow cleared Rugby Road. After breakfast and a final shovel job to clear the snow between our car and the snowplow track, we headed out of town, back to an Ithaca with just a trace of snow on the ground, our blizzard adventure over.
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
early cold & the vagaries of LES
LES (lake effect snow in meteorological jargon)continues to pummel (favorite news reporter's meteorological verb) nearby areas of New York state, leaving us high, dry, quite cold, and very windy. We reached a high of 15 today with windchills below zero F since early morning. This is the second round of the lake effect snow no-show for Ithaca. I do wish the NWS would either back off or get more granular with their accumulation forecasts. And yet I find comfort in the unpredictability of complex, dynamic invisible air envelope that we live within and upon which we rely for life.
Thursday, December 2, 2010
The cusp of December
It's the time of year when intense storms angle up through the Great Lakes states: the wind blows hard and sucks up moisture from the Gulf of Mexico, the western Atlantic, and the lakes and dumps rain in copious amounts. We've had our share this year. A six-inch rain, the re-energized remnant of Tropical Storm Nicole, on the last day of September and a two-inch rain on the last day of November with a lot of wind. Six Mile Creek flooded impressively. This last rain wound up with a couple of inches of snow and a cold spell. We've had our share of gray skies, but I like it when the wind blows hard and the skies open up.
Switching back to half-time work at the turn of the month has freed up some of my energy for cooking and for yard time. More hardwood leaves, more white pine needles, and trimming back the annuals in preparation for winter. It's just gotten cold enough now that I've switched to walking instead of cycling to work. It has been a big year for planting--nearly 100 bulbs, three trees, winter cover crop in the kitchen garden, lots more herbs--lavender, salvia, basil, the usual rosemary, hyssop, sage.
I want every drop of rain and snow that falls on this bit of the earth to stay here, to sink in, and to nourish monster plants.
Switching back to half-time work at the turn of the month has freed up some of my energy for cooking and for yard time. More hardwood leaves, more white pine needles, and trimming back the annuals in preparation for winter. It's just gotten cold enough now that I've switched to walking instead of cycling to work. It has been a big year for planting--nearly 100 bulbs, three trees, winter cover crop in the kitchen garden, lots more herbs--lavender, salvia, basil, the usual rosemary, hyssop, sage.
I want every drop of rain and snow that falls on this bit of the earth to stay here, to sink in, and to nourish monster plants.
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
frost on the punkin
Last night was a real cool deal--mid 20s for hours, cold enough to kill the tender annuals like our red sage, Thai basil, regular basil. Meanwhile the newest generation of crocuses, narcissus, and daffy down dillies are all planted in their snug little beds. The new dogwood is protected from the depredations of rutting bucks. In the Kitchen garden, the cover crop of winter rye and peas is putting up its slender purple shoots. The padrone and Bolivian pepper plants are potted and stationed at sunny windows inside. Storm windows are on. All this just in time for a cold week in Ithaca. Sigh.
The annual leaf drop is nearly done. The most reluctant of the maples dropped a ton of leaves today; a good freeze really cuts them loose. The oaks are holding on for the moment. I'm looking forward to gathering oak leaves to bed down the areas that I haven't covered so far. My longer term goal is to dwell in an earthy place that is like unto a forest floor. Something to aspire to.
The annual leaf drop is nearly done. The most reluctant of the maples dropped a ton of leaves today; a good freeze really cuts them loose. The oaks are holding on for the moment. I'm looking forward to gathering oak leaves to bed down the areas that I haven't covered so far. My longer term goal is to dwell in an earthy place that is like unto a forest floor. Something to aspire to.
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