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Tuesday, March 19, 2013

Rocky Ford Creek Report: Last of the Winter Trout

Stately pelicans, and joyous swallows. Sandhill cranes calling somewhere out of eyeshot. And the last of the winter trout.

Monday, March 18, 2013

Youth Sports Post: Dream and Dedication

There was a double header on Saturday.


We were there, watching Jeremiah and his teammates sweep their opponents.

Meanwhile, behind us, there was a soccer game going on. Isaiah was there but didn't play. He still doesn't have enough practices in to be eligible. And, as I've pointed out before, his role will be limited because he's still rehabbing from ACL surgery in September.

Every time I glanced behind me the other team was scoring a goal. Knowing Isaiah, I can imagine how excruciating it is for him to have to just sit there on the bench and do nothing to help the team.

The soccer game was long over and the second baseball game was winding down when we started to wonder why Isaiah hadn't joined us yet. I looked over and saw why.


Over and over and over.

Take a dream, add dedication, and there will be no stopping it.

Click for Update: It all pays off.

Dry or Die

Time to start singing this song. Some beautiful footage of trout on top. And I think I'd like to fish with these guys.

Saturday, March 16, 2013

Brad, Sheena--and Nacho

Once again the irrepressible Moldy Chum has turned me on to something worthwhile. This is Brad and Sheena, leaning against their '84 Vanagon, "Nacho," way, way down the road at the southernmost town in the world at the end of Tierra del Fuego.


This is how they explain on their blog, "Drive, Nacho, Drive," what they're doing with themselves these days:

At the end of 2011 we quit our jobs and set off in our 1984 Volkswagen Vanagon, "Nacho". Our plan? To circumnavigate the globe, slowly, while discovering culture, food, recreation, and emergency roadside Volkswagen maintenance. We are Brad and Sheena. Just wingin' it.

How cool is that? It's a fun read, and they're going places I'll never have the chance to see for myself, so I've put a link to their blog in my blog list so I can keep up with them on their journey.

Look for the link in the right margin, or click HERE if you'd like to check it out.

Oh, and if you're a young man who isn't married yet, and you'd like to be some day, and you'd like to have an adventurous life, maybe you should look for someone with a name like "Sheena." Good luck to you. And nice work, Brad.

Friday, March 15, 2013

"Hungry" by Gary Gildner


Hungry

Bears cougars rattlesnakes man alive
people keep saying aren’t you
afraid living way out there no
close neighbors real friends
where do you shop on the spur
just go for a cuppa coffee look
what if you suffer an attack of
anything can happen my god
at your age it’s crazy—
                                Well
the other day I said whoa
stepping back to gaze in wonder
at how this sow pushed over
my compost box oh I understood
of course spring and all the surge
still I’d built that box myself
scraps of ancient planks squared off
clean and straight at the corners
nailed tight with spikes a big old
boy I was sorry to see lying there
behind the barn all messed apart
a long scar clawed across the black
sheet of plastic covering the top
or not covering anything now
except a patch of gray snow
bristling with pine and fir needles
how many moldy cheeses and pea
pods skins seeds and pots of coffee
grounds I’d given that box to mix
and cook and sweeten over the years!
                                                    Oh
she was hungry all right bear-
hungry after a good long sleep
and quite likely eating for three
those two babies back in the den
blind whining and wanting
their milk yes sir friends
sour is sweet things break
the yearning returns home
and abroad hungry is hungry.

- GARY GILDNER

Gary Gildner is a winner of the National Magazine Award in fiction. Cleaning a Rainbow is his latest collection of poems.

From another good source for poetry, and much more, Orion Magazine. Permanent link in the right margin.

Youth Sports Post: Play Ball

Yesterday was opening day.


Here's the first pitch of the 2013 season.


Jeremiah played right field, and made a nice catch of a high fly ball. Later he pitched an inning and allowed only one base runner.


The other team scored a run in their first at bat. Our guys responded by holding them scoreless the rest of the way and scoring over 20 runs themselves. There will be stiffer challenges ahead, but it was a good beginning.


Jeremiah was wearing number 44. That's Reggie Jackson's number. I thought that was a good omen, and I was eager to see him bat. But inning after inning he stayed in the dugout until it was time to take the field again.


So I went over to see what was up. He said two things: one, he wasn't ready to bat, and two, don't be coming into the dugout taking his picture.


I think he meant it.


Sorry, Jeremiah. I'll try to remember from now on. Nice game.

Thursday, March 14, 2013

Happy Birthday, Albert

Thursday was Albert Einstein's birthday. It seems appropriate that the man who opened our understanding of the universe, and expanded our awareness of our place in it, would have a birthday in the season of renewal and rebirth.


He wasn't a fly fisherman, as far as I know. You might say he has nothing to do with fishing, even though one of his more famous quotes has a fish in it.


So why put him in a fly fishing blog? Because he was a man gifted not just with a giant intellect but with a giant heart and spirit--a giant humanity--that gave him the ability to cut through the layers of obfuscation and deception and see the truth of things. He had a depth of perspective that comes only from seeing the big picture in a breathtakingly panoramic scope. If he had been a fly fisherman I think he would have fished for the same reasons I hope I fish. I base that on this quote, a pretty good candidate for The Universal Fly Fisherman's Mission Statement:


Once again, my thanks to The Writer's Almanac for this excellent biography. Some more wonderful quotes in this. Maybe, like me, you'll recognize in this man a kindred spirit. And, maybe too, you'll feel a little more at home in this great universe of ours.

It's the birthday of the man who said: "I'm not much with people, and I'm not a family man. I want my peace. I want to know how God created this world. I am not interested in this or that phenomenon, in the spectrum of this or that element. I want to know His thoughts, the rest are details." That's the physicistAlbert Einstein (books by this author), born on this day in Ulm, Germany (1879). It is often said that he was a terrible student who couldn't get a job after graduation. In truth, he was a good student, and always a star at math and physics. The issue wasn't with his performance so much as his attitude toward his teachers, many of whom knew less than he did — he was cocky about the fact that he was self-taught in science, and he was generally disrespectful. After he graduated from Zurich Polytechnic, none of his professors wanted to write him a recommendation, which he needed to get a good job in academia. Instead, when he finally got a job, it was as a clerk in the Swiss Patent Office in Bern.


It turned out that the job suited him fine. During the day, he worked in the office as a "technical expert third class," and in the evenings, in his rental flat in Bern, he was able to work on his scientific ideas. The year 1905 is often referred to as Einstein's own personal annus mirabilis, or "year of miracles," because it was during that year that he published four important scientific papers in just a few months. Among the groundbreaking observations in those papers, he proposed that the scientific community was wrong in its assumption that light was a continuous wave, and that in fact, it was made up of distinct particles; and he first proposed his theory of special relativity with its famous equation e=mc2. He was only 26 years old. Scientists were not immediately convinced that Einstein was right, particularly about light particles, and although e=mc2 is famous now, at the time it didn't make much of a splash. He couldn't even get a low-level teaching job at a university — all he got was a promotion to "second-class" at the patent office.
He worked his way up slowly. By 1909, he was able to quit his job at the patent office and he became an adjunct professor of theoretical physics in Zurich. In 1914, he moved to a teaching post in Berlin. He worked on a "General Theory of Relativity," which he published in 1916.


In May of 1919, two astronomers in different parts of the world observed a total solar eclipse and verified one of Einstein's theories in his General Theory of Relativity: that the gravitational field of the sun deflected light from stars, so they were actually in a different position than they appeared to be. The findings were announced in November in London, during a joint meeting of the Royal Astronomical Society and the Royal Society. The president of the Royal Society declared: "This is the most important result related to the theory of gravitation since the days of Newton. ... This result is among the greatest achievements of human thinking." The New York Times wrote about Einstein's success in an article with the headlines: "Lights All Askew in the Heavens"; "Men of Science More or Less Agog Over Results of Eclipse Observations"; "Einstein Theory Triumphs"; "Stars Not Where They Seemed or Were Calculated to be, but Nobody Need Worry." Suddenly, Einstein was famous. He said in 1919, "With fame I become more and more stupid, which of course is a very common phenomenon."


In 1921, Einstein came to America for the first time for a lecture tour.
He got off the boat in Battery Park in Manhattan on April 2nd, 1921. The New York Times wrote: "A man in a faded gray raincoat and a flopping black felt hat that nearly concealed the gray hair that straggled over his ears stood on the boat deck of the steamship Rotterdam yesterday, timidly facing a battery of cameramen. In one hand he clutched a shiny briar pipe and with the other clung to a precious violin. He looked like an artist — a musician. He was. But underneath his shaggy locks was a scientific mind whose deductions have staggered the ablest intellects of Europe. One of his traveling companions described him as an 'intuitive physicist' whose speculative imagination is so vast that it senses great natural laws long before the reasoning faculty grasps and defines them."
Thousands of people had waited for hours to welcome Einstein. Some enthusiastic Jewish spectators sang both "The Star-Spangled Banner" and "Hatikvah," a Zionist anthem. He was paraded through the streets of New York in a motorcade that lasted all afternoon and all evening, and he didn't make it to his hotel until 11:30 that night.
Einstein wrote some complimentary things about the United States: "What first strikes the visitor with amazement is the superiority of this country in matters of technology and organization. Objects of everyday use are more solid than in Europe, houses much more practically designed. [...] The second thing that strikes the visitor is the joyous, positive attitude to life. The smile on the faces of the people in photographs is symbolical of one of the greatest assets of the American. He is friendly, self confident, optimistic — and without envy." But that was Einstein's public face. After the conclusion of his tour, in an interview with a Dutch newspaper, he said: "The vast enthusiasm for me in America appears to be typically American, though, and as far as I can judge I rather understand it: the people are so uncommonly bored, yes honestly much more so than is the case with us. And there is so little for them there anyhow. [...] So folks are happy when they are given something to play with and which they can revere, and that they then do with exceptional intensity. Most of all it is the women, by the way, who dominate all of American life. The men are interested in nothing at all; they work, work as I haven't seen anyone anywhere else. For the rest, they are toy dogs for their wives, who spend the money in the most excessive fashion and who shroud themselves in a veil of extravagance. They will do anything that's in vogue and in fashion, and, as it happens, have thrown themselves among the throngs of the 'Einstein-craze,' Does it make an outlandish impression upon me, the crowd's excitement here and there about my beliefs and theories, about which it doesn't understand anything? I find it amusing and also interesting to watch them. I certainly believe that it is the magic of non-comprehension that attracts them."


Despite his ambivalent feelings about his fame, Einstein was a good self-promoter, a natural speaker, and throughout his career, he was happy to be photographed. He didn't need to be prompted to stick out his tongue or ride on a bicycle. People loved his goofy hair and vagabond image. He described himself to his cousin's eight-year-old daughter: "I hear from Elsa that you are dissatisfied because you did not see your uncle Einstein. Let me therefore tell you what I look like: pale face, long hair, and a tiny beginning of a paunch. In addition an awkward gait, and a cigar in the mouth — if he happens to have a cigar — and a pen in his pocket or his hand. But crooked legs and warts he does not have, and so he is quite handsome — also no hair on his hands such as is often found on ugly men. So it is indeed a pity that you did not see me."

Mt. Rainier Is Cool

You might recall the recent photos of Mt. Rainier. I just happened to come across this shot while checking on the weather. This is Rainier at sunrise casting its shadow on the clouds. Very cool.



Wednesday, March 13, 2013

Comet PanSTARRS Update

Tonight is supposed to be one of the best nights for viewing Comet PanSTARRS. We've had high overcast for the past few nights here, so I haven't caught a glimpse yet. I'll try again tonight, but if I still don't see it I can always watch this video again. Nice job, Fred.

I Love Happy Endings

Tuesday, March 12, 2013

River Report: Fishing For Life

The day was sublime. The sign in town said 66 degrees. It would have been a perfect day to make the trip to Rocky Ford, but I had things I needed to do. After that I still had time to get to the river for awhile before the soccer game. I knew Isaiah wasn't going to play today, so I was going to see how I did at the river. If I was catching fish, I'd stay. If not, I'd go check out the soccer game.

I decided to drive downstream a couple of miles to the bridge and familiar waters. I hadn't fished this stretch since last summer before the move. It was good to be back.


The river is up a bit. Once I was in it I estimated it to be up over a foot. The current is proportionately more lively.


I worked the Bridge Run awhile. I was thinking steelhead, but I would have been happy to catch anything--a fat smallmouth, a strong trout, even a whitefish. I was fishing for life.


I waded upstream along the bank toward The Glide.


I took a pass through The Glide, but from the opposite side I usually fish. Seemed worth a try. And the current was just fast enough to make a crossing seem dicier than I was in the mood for.


I worked my way back upstream a ways. Midges were thick on the water and in the air and I watched for rises. This is a prime area for pods of whitefish and even smallmouth to feed on top, but I saw none today. I did see an old basketball drifting past, and a big blue plastic drum where it had washed up on the tip of the island. It was a windy, gusty day. That could explain the drum, and, who knows, maybe the basketball, too.


I came to a beaver slide and decided to climb out.


Up above the river the south wind blew with nothing to slow it down, and it did its best to blow me back into the river as I wended my way to the truck.


I thought about the fishing. There had been no signs of life at the end of my line. The river still seemed dead, or sleeping. But, like the field, it will come to life. Soon spring growth will completely hide the stark signs of winter's harshness.


I got the thermos out of the truck and sat above the river under the bridge. I was sheltered from the wind, and the sun was warm.


I reflected on the swallow ghost towns around the bridge pylons. There were flocks of killdeer all up and down the shorelines, and once a single bird against the sky had made me think for a moment that the swallows were back. Not yet, but soon. It won't be long before life inhabits everything again.


Meanwhile, there are warming days, waking rivers, greening fields, and soccer games. It was time to head for the soccer field. Plenty of life there.