Frazzled April into Glimmering May

Well….     2 months without a blip, a blurb, so much as a noun.  Not that I’m in high demand, but my psyche misses it.  My immediate circumstances leave me with good intentions of talking about the rhubarb I have marinating in grapefruit juice/rinds and sugar for jam, or the pies, or our lovely garden that is sprouting green beans and raspberries and lettuce, but alas….I’m knee deep – or neck-deep, bogged down and mired is more like it – in prep for field work:  it is taking over my brain.  It is almost as if there is no end in sight, though I know that is not true.  A new project is in the works and it is a monster. NSF has kindly given us 1.2-ish million dollars to discover some things over the next few years, and we are feverishly prepping to lay the ground-work for it.  We’ve said we’d do quite a bit.  More than what most of us argued we could do, from the get-go, but it turns out writing mentality and implementing mentality are two very different things.  Arguing about minutia and dribs and drabs when no one wants, or has time, to focus on such slop is not how I would have liked to move forward.  Thankfully, I hope and think we are past that and onto making it all happen.  The truck leaves in 11 days.  Even if we wanted to, we have no more time.

Long term, we are at a point where I am not worried.  The sites will be set up.  The research will be accomplished with our normal grace and skill, and it will be good.    

If you’ve never set up a million dollar research project in the middle of nowhere, I assure you, expenditures are front-end heavy.  We are currently $4 million deep in projects up there, so this is nothing new, but we are ramping.  We have a lot going on.  I just received a quote for 700 rough-hewn 2x6x10’s that need to be delivered to gps coordinate-identified spots and then we will tromp the lumber into wetlands, cut it with chain saws, and nail it together into plots which are spread across central/northern Alberta (a feat that will be mostly accomplished by variously-skilled and patiently-taught (hopefully) graduate and undergraduate students… ).  I have bought $7000 in weather stations….  Thousands of dollars in electrical bear fence supplies….  You don’t want to know how much pvc of all sizes…  over 3000 crank wires… 200 plastic buckets…  temperature buttons, temperature probes, hand-held thermometers…  DI water…. Gas standards…  bags, bottles, books…. oh my.  The list is growing and this isn’t even the half of it.   

So, a big sigh.  I’m just now seeing a glimmer before the next real-life-make-it-happen-obstacle slams me in the head.  Wish us all luck.  If you care to follow our adventures this summer, I have set up a blog for the research group to share their thoughts (http://55parallel.blogspot.com/).  We shall see how it goes, and hopefully the group will be posting some fun things over the field season for what is probably Meanook’s last hoorah (sad, so sad).  I’ll try to keep up, as well.  You’ll find me in Alberta soon.   For now, the garden really does grow, and the Peony in my backyard just started blooming today.  The bats are back, and spring is manifest in many many ways.  I will strive for non-work before the work takes over in a few weeks again, in earnest. 

Meanook in Song

In the chill of the evening, the passerines are active with the sun still several hands high.  Tennessee Warblers dressed in yellowish green have invaded en masse and flit from tree to tree.  They are mistaking windows for pass-throughs much to the dismay of everyone here at Meanook.  One such warbler, recovering on a pine branch, finally flew off, but only after Kitten made leaps for it, pulling the bough low as if he was the one hanging on for dear life.  Hooray for the bird.  No doubt Kitten will find a snack elsewhere this evening but the warbler flies free.  White Throated Sparrows are chatting with the Chickadees and the rowdy Ruby Crowned Kinglets, the Blue Jays yell and swoop from low branch to low branch, and the Sapsuckers play percussive wood.  It is a symphony in the bush. 

Spring is arriving here with birds and blooms.  The cherries aren’t quite flowering yet, but they are knocking on that door.  It seems spring is a little early up here as it is also on the east coast.  Last year almost to the day, it snowed 5 inches.  Two days ago I was hot and sweaty looking at a collapsing permafrost mound. 

Our research puts us in what is called the discontinuous permafrost zone.  North of us, the earth is frozen year ‘round.  South of us, the soil thaws completely every summer.  Here, there are pockets of frozen mixed in with the thawed.  This zone is shifting northward and that thaw brings changes to the landscape and changes to the ecosystems.  Fire hastens this advancement, warming the earth as it scorches it with no chance of the peat recovering the cold of the next winter.  Last year was a doozy on the fire-front, and this year, seems like we are in for another.  Right now, 23 fires burn in Alberta with 345 fires since the burning season started this spring.  We drive through smoke on the way to our sites.  That acrid burn in the nose is not unfamiliar to us and puts me on edge.

Tomorrow we head north to the Mariana Lakes region of Alberta where we will spend the day in both bog and fen and hopefully not run into any bears or fire.  The travel allows for some fast truck window viewing, and since arriving, we’ve seen much:  a Bald Eagle, an Osprey, countless waterfowl and shore birds, Sandhill Cranes, Buteos, Falcons, Shrikes, Passerines of all shapes and sizes.  Our feathered friends are here and are welcoming us to Alberta and to spring.  The morning will bring the dawn of a new day and as we walk among the mosses the birds will sing.

Note:  The above was written 2 days ago… the total fires is now up to 390 as of 10 AM yesterday…   much potential for ignition.   We have only experienced a bit of smoke and smoldering.  So far so good.  More soon.

Spring into Winter? or...

February doldrums.  Do you ever sit quietly, watching the rain, wondering what the hell is happening?  It can’t just be me.  Right?  I could understand this precipitation were I living in, say, Seattle, but I swear those good folks in the northwest may have received more snow this year than me and that pisses me off.   One single word comes to mind.  Depressing.  The cold virus that plagues me isn’t helping, either.  I’m cranky.

I write this knowing that a potential storm will move just south of here this Sunday and the meteorologists are so dying for a good winter story that they are playing on this low probability scenario as an actual possibility.  Snow.  Oh, they torment me.  I am a sucker.   

Flowers are blooming here…  the snowdrops are long gone.  Daffodils have their flower heads tucked among the slender leaves waving from my front flower bed.  The tulips, too, are forging ahead finding sun when clouds ease.  My butterfly bushes have new leaves, as do the lilacs and tree peony.  Witch hazel is nearly passé.  I’ve had fresh mint in my garden and parsley in a pot on my porch without interruption.  I worry for the state of the world.  We are a month early with a great deal of plant activity and so now I’m torn.  If it really does snow with purpose, what happens to our spring?  My hope is the flowers and plants can handle it.  I think they can.  I think they can.  And so I will play along and hope.  I’ll let you know how that all works out, but I'm not holding my breath.  

Alternatively, I think it may be a year to experiment with early garden plantings.  Last year, throughout the spring and summer months, perennials consistently bloomed 3-4 weeks before they normally do and that continues today with this mild winter.  The veg is woefully early.  And there are bugs hitting my windshield at Valley Forge on my commute...   so wrong in February.  Climate change is messing with my head.

Spring moves north and up the topographic map earlier and earlier at a faster and faster pace.  Perhaps if the storm passes without incident I’ll plant some spinach out there and see what happens.  It may be a year without a winter.

Dry Run Into Spring

Just about 3 weeks up here and it feels like a lifetime.  I’ve been coming to Meanook for almost 10 years now and it is like a second home.  There have been years where I’ve spent 3-4 months/year up here and so it is quite comfortable from that perspective.  The people are great.  The weather is generally pretty nice.  Bugs usually aren’t too bad at the station.  Lots of green areas to escape to when things get to be too much and quiet time is in order.  All in all it really is quite nice here.  That is probably partially why it feels like I’ve been here forever this year.  The other reasons are not so benevolent.

The workload this year is pretty high with the new project under way and with new projects come new field crews and new ‘discussions’ (read ‘arguments’ on occasion) on which ways are the best ways and wrong ways and sideways.  Tensions have been high for the most part and that is wearing, but we finally have the construction part of it done – except some shed painting and the crew is happy for that.  Now the watering begins and man do we have some cool equipment.  We could fight some fires, ourselves, with all of our fire hoses and pumps.  We will have 2500 gallons of water delivered tomorrow and need to apply it in 55 gallon aliquots throughout the bog and fen.  In all we have about a km of boardwalk.  It is quite the scene….  Yesterday was our dry (wet) run and the water truck got stuck in the ditch -- hopefully, we will be incident free on our first true application tomorrow with all the glitches all being ironed out yesterday.   

Spring is here for sure now – birds are singing and plants are blooming and fully green.  Several white-throated sparrows reside very close to the communal buildings and make a chorus with the local phoebe that resides outside my bedroom window.  Robins are everywhere; as are ravens, and a host of warblers and sparrows.  I have yet to hear the golden crowned kinglet, but hopefully he’ll be back.  He’s my favorite and usually hangs out in the big pines lining the driveway into the compound.  My first hummingbird sighting was two days ago in time for the lilacs that are just thinking about blooming and adding their scent to the cherries and apples that have started to bloom.   Everything is in a rush to get their fleurs out as fast as possible as spring is squished here and leads into summer pretty quickly.  It has been warm except for a few days –was below freezing this morning, for example --  we know to not take it for granted.  It snowed in June last year.  Everyone is hoping for rain for the fires, but for our fieldwork, the lack of rain has made things move forward quite nicely.

So as we continue to make plans and figure out more logistics and prep equipment, the sun still shines.  We are heading out tomorrow for our watering and then to Fort McMurray… which is still plagued with fire, ash, and smoke.   And so while I will be smelling like a wildfire soon, Meanook is now happily smelling of homemade lasagna (homemade sauce, homemade noodles, and all).  Can’t complain about that!  For now, while the getting is good:  bring on the happy hour.

Spring Dishwasher

I’m sitting on my porch on an unexpectedly free afternoon as I wait for my car to be fixed.  Soaking up the sunshine, I’m halfheartedly working as I listen to the birds sing.  I can almost hear (over the buzz of free spirts on motorcycles) the spring bulbs pushing out more and more leaf.  Daffodils are about ready to pop out their heads and the 70 degree weather tomorrow will surely further encourage that.

My kitchen renovations call….   I have ordered a dishwasher and am trying to figure out the sink and cabinet scenario for my little 60 inch space.  Advice?  This is a temporary fix as I try to build bank.  My major renovations require me to knock down a wall and get serious about tackling some scary electrical issues and so temporary fixes are good – especially when they involve a dishwasher.  Ahhh  let me say it one more time:  Dishwasher.  A local company indicates they will cut an old slate chalkboard into a countertop for me (I’ve squirreled a few away in the storeroom at work) and I hope to get some cheap paintable cabinets from somewhere – and a farm-house sink from IKEA.     My Beautiful old sink will find its new home in the half bath.   I have been without a dishwasher for so long I can barely even remember what it is like to own one....  I'm ready to be reminded.

And so while spring rushes in like a old friend who has come to visit, undoubtedly, it is time for change.