Sandy just said 'Hi' and moved on

The Schuylkill River at the Valley Forge River Path south of Pville 

I feel obligated to admit this:  I’m a closet natural disaster junkie and I was excited.  Sandy was Coming!  And part of the fun is in the prep, and of course if something awful had happened directly to me or someone I love, I’m sure I wouldn't feel this way, but, I've got to say…. I feel a little gypped.  Let me tell you:  Sandy was HYPED up here in the Philly region.   We were bunkered in and prepared for 'the worst' - we had food, wine, beer, water, candles up the ying yang, fun non-power-needing projects, and of course, bacon.  And then... windy rain, but the power barely went off, only mild front porch furniture rearrangement, and very little flooding.  Things are pretty ‘normal’ around here today.  Folks are out and about cleaning up yards (raking) and talking about how bad previous floods were (apparently 18 inches of rain fell in 1977) and how we dodged a bullet (poor NJ folks).  Lots of folks and coffee shops (gasp) are still without power, but we have power.  We have coffee.  We have very little debris to pick up.   

@ Produce Junction in Pville

I know, I know.  I should be happy for us and really sensitive to the needs of others, but still.  This is one of my safe spots and I’m going to admit it.  I expected more, Sandy.  You know... some direct impact on me.   Don’t get me wrong – I’m glad, say, a tree didn't fall on my house (happened a bit here in Pville), or my basement didn't flood (it really has never flooded), and I could follow the Chris Christie news briefing this morning (wow does he have an ego), but at the same time…  a little time only relying on candle-power wouldn't have been so bad.  Instead, last evening, I took a bath, we joked our way through parts of 3 Bond movies, listened to some music, played some music, had some lovely un-needed candle ambiance, and enjoyed cold beers from a cold fridge and fully iced margaritas. 

River Path again in Valley Forge

Ok, Ok.…. come to think of it, that isn’t so bad, either.  I’ll take it and cease my self-indulgent, electric using, hardly effected blatherings.  As I sit here on my cushy couch drinking hot Assam tea, my heart goes out to the folks on the shore – some of whom have lost everything.  

All is well here, and that is no hype.

Take Off, Eh?

Another successful October field trip to the great white north.  Snowflakes splat against the windshield as we head south from Fort McMurray back ‘home’ to Meanook via the Mariana Fen, and we are all warming our toes after trekking through the very cold and soupy fen that buffers our site just south of the Fort McMurray airport.  Snow fell last night, too, and let me tell you, picking and finding vegetation and collecting water is extra fun with a cover of the white-stuff on everything.  Surprisingly, it went pretty smoothly: black spruce branches make excellent brooms, and thankfully, we restocked on hand-warmers last night.  We’re pros.

But, even for seasoned veterans of the bog world, this trip was oh-so challenging.  Cramming in a gazillion things in so little time with so little wiggle room is a dangerous thing to do, but we seem to seek out the challenge time and again.  To boot, the weather is unpredictable and the forecasters haven’t gotten anything right for the duration of this entire trip.  Thankfully, we squeezed in Utikuma early, though, even then, we barely made it in or out.  We only went sideways a couple of times on the treacherously muddy oil roads and by whatever grace we may have, didn’t end up in a ditch.  Getting stuck has happened before and I’m guessing it will probably happen again, but not this trip.  It makes me uncomfortable when the steering wheel is just a suggestion for tires that are perpendicular to the forward (or sideways) progress.  Agita.   

And speaking of feeling sick….  Fort McMurray was most ugly this time around.  I guess I say that every time, but ugh…. It is so depressing.  Two of our sites are heavily impacted by the pollution and bizarrely, our normally forest-green mosses are turning teal and then dying at the site closest to the processing plants.  Something very bad is happening at that smelly site, and this is nothing any of us has ever seen.  Fort McMurray, once in a most beautiful part of the world, now oozes mud and toxic grey destruction.  They are fucking the Earth up royally and are proud of it. 

And so it is good to be heading back to Meanook.  The forest along the road turns white from trees dressed in crystalline sweaters and dropping temperatures and as we finished up at Mariana, so, too, have we finished up the field season.  We are all ready to head home for good for a bit -- just in time for winter to hit Alberta.  It was a long run this year and I am tired and burnt out – I think we all are, but there is still so much to do in the lab.   As I bask in the white world around me now, I daydream of blue Caribbean waters and warm sunshine on my face and days and days of only having to remember to put on sunscreen.   I am feeling decidedly unhealthy. 

But for now, back to Meanook we go.  And then home again home again soon there-after.  The snow is good, but home is a much better trade-off.  I look forward to it being my island respite for a bit.