Ecology and Environmental Science Posts

Here is the "search link" to past posts in which "Ecology" was mentioned.

And here is the "search link" to past posts in which "Environmental Science" was mentioned.

Though related, these two disciplines are not the same.  Ecology is a "branch" of Biology relating to organisms and their interactions with their surrounding Ecosystems, including how those organisms themselves influence their resident Ecosystems.

"Environmental Science" is more of a "hybrid" discipline, incorporating elements of Biology, Geology, Physics, Chemistry, History, Human Culture, Politics, Economics, i.e., looking more at the "big picture" of the natural and the human-influenced aspects of the Earth.  

The Chihuahuan Desert: Our North American Outback

 

[This video was previously posted on November 30, 2019.  The Chihuahuan Desert was my home for 14 years and remains influential to my thoughts of Geology and Ecology.]

As I was searching through videos related to the Chihuahuan Desert, I encountered a familiar name.  Kevin von Finger was a casual friend of mine during my El Paso years, we crossed paths often.  (I wish I had spent more time rambling in the desert with him.  He passed away too young.)  

As our personal encounters were usually during social events, I wasn't properly aware of his career as a local Ecologist and Biologist.  (To my great regrets.)  At that particular time, my primary life focus was Geology, but for the most part, my self-education in Ecology and Environmental Science had not begun in earnest.

From Rocks to Trees

After the normal Winter doldrums, coupled with a year of the Pandemic and political chaos, many of us want to get outside as the weather warms and improves.  With the hoped for future arrival of Spring in a few weeks, I decided to switch - for a while - to "Life Sciences" outside of Geology, partially for my own reasons.

During this time, I still intend to intersperse Geology, Ecology, (and related subjects) and Ecology, videos with random periods of notes and reflections.

 

I Wish I Could Go Back to Kansas - Part 2

 Returning to Kansas for a few days of exploration and photography has become a sort of "Bucket List" (or Geo-Bucket List) goal. 

As recounted in Part 1, since 2014, I have been immersed in a writing project, with the first goal being the production of an interesting narrative about two "crossroads events" in 1973 and 1974.  These events were a 1973 Western family vacation (the last one for the four of us - Dad, Mom, sister, and me), followed by my 1974 Western road trip with my college roommate. 

Both of these events were influential towards my moving 1500 miles from home in 1977, to attend graduate school in El Paso, Texas.  Events that followed included meeting my first wife (1983), my first marriage (1984), adopting our daughter (1986), graduating from the University of Texas-El Paso with a Master of Science degree in Geology (1990), and us moving back to my native Georgia (1991).  

The genesis of this project was "decadal anniversary-induced nostalgia", triggered by the 40th anniversary of the 1974 road trip, and continuing through a time of significant life changes, career plans/expectations fizzling out (2013), being widowed (2015), my daughter's family moving to Phoenix (2015), being given a used Digital SLR camera by a friend and then buying a new Pentax K50 (2015), engaging in three Atlanta-to-Phoenix (and back) driving trips (2015 and 2016), meeting my second wife (2016), my daughter's family moving back to Georgia (2017), and getting remarried (2017).

  

As recounted in Part 1 of this posting, the 2014 rereading of William Least Heat-Moon's "Blue Highways" inspired my writing efforts.  Other of Heat-Moon's books subsequently read and enjoyed included (in no particular order) "Here, There, Elsewhere"; "Roads to Quoz"; "Writing Blue Highways" and in 2019, "PrairyErth" and "River-Horse".  Of these books, "PrairyErth: A Deep Map", published in 1991, is the most profound in terms of its quadrangle-by-quadrangle detailed analysis of Chase County, Kansas.  As defined by Wikipedia, a "deep map" is "a map with greater information than a two-dimensional image of places, names, and topography."  

Figure 1.  Monument on I-70.  Image by B. Masterson

Chase County, roughly between Topeka and Wichita, is within the "Flint Hills Ecoregion" and hosts the Tallgrass Prairie National Preserve.  Heat-Moon's intense deep-map coverage of the geology, ecology, history, culture, botany, and geography of Chase County and the uniqueness of the Tallgrass Prairie Ecosystem is credited by some as drawing the attention needed to create the National Preserve.  Formerly covering an estimated expanse of 400,000 square miles, agriculture has inadvertently reduced the Tallgrass Prairie Ecosystem to a fragmented remnant of what it once was.

The major hurdle to bringing this writing project to fruition is fashioning a suitable format. Adversarial considerations include; 1) The road trip took place 45 years ago; 2) There was no travel log kept, as we were 20 years old and not given to thinking about legacies and such; 3) Memories are fading; 4) There are few - if any - surviving Kodak Instamatic photos; and 5) An attempt was made to save the marked 1974 AAA maps, but that ended with a 2011 home renovation when the maps were inadvertently discarded.

As stated in Part 1, if I can achieve a satisfactory solution to the "Kansas chapter" of my narrative, it should serve as a template for the remainder of the recounting of the 4-week, 8800-mile journey.  As current conditions stand, in terms of health concerns, family obligations, and finances, a retracing of this route does not appear likely in the near future.  Though a "virtual journey" format with flashbacks and vignettes may serve the purpose.

Flood Basalts of the Pacific Northwest

I have posted this video as a "Geo-Bucket List" item.  As far as the United States "lower 48" geology and ecology are concerned, I have a yearning to learn more about the Pacific Northwest, as my only personal exposure was a drive across the southeastern corner of Oregon in 1974.  My second wife and her twin sister have visited Mount Saint Helens, Crater Lake, and the Hoh Rainforest (to name a few places) in the last couple of years, all of which I eagerly yearn to visit and photograph.

Janisse Ray, Author of "Ecology of a Cracker Childhood": Half-Earth Educ...

Down Memory Lane, Lurching I Go, Again - Part 4

 [While doing "series posts" (consisting of Part 1, Part 2, ... ), I have been guilty of posting a Part 1 and then getting distracted and not completing planned subsequent related posts.  As for the prior parts of this thread, please scroll down.]

As previously mentioned, despite the regrets of not having finished this project and failing to inform myself of what my cohorts learned, over the years I have used some of my scanned slides (and memories) as Educational Resources, as seen with the labeled images (Figure 1) and suggested discussions below.

In an attempt to resurrect my portion of the project and to spend some "really quiet time" with only the sound of the wind and my thoughts, I visited the Eagle Mountains either in the Fall of 1979 (or was it 1980?), by myself.

As usual, I checked in at the ranch house to verify it was still OK (it was).  While chatting with the caretaker, he mentioned that the remnants of a hurricane had "wandered up the Rio Grande Valley" from the Gulf Coast and that it "sat" over the Eagle Mts. for a weekend, during which time they got 22 inches of rain (courtesy of "Orographic Lifting" - my conclusion).  [Usable in Weather and Climate discussions.]

(I suppose by examining Gulf of Mexico weather records could help estimate the date, but it doesn't matter.)  He advised me of this as "some of the roads didn't exist - in a usable manner - anymore" and he didn't have the proper equipment to fix them.  [I guess the owner in Houston was trying to decide if fixing them was worth it.]

 Figure 1A.

The text box (in the above image) obscures the roadway we used in 1978 in the NE quadrant.  This was a normal arroyo (dry canyon) crossing, down-gradient from a canyon draining part of the "highlands".  Though this wasn't part of my 1978 field area, I had wanted to explore the more-accessible parts of the NE and SE quadrants and so some more photography.

The image below shows the "roadus interruptus" within an "inner montane valley".  It illustrates the poorly-sorted nature of valley alluvium, deposited by "normal" seasonal flooding versus the 4 feet (+/-) of rapid down-cutting from a single catastrophic flash flood.  At the base of the vertical cut, you can see a small "apron" (talus cone) starting to form, as part of nature's re-establishment of a "natural angle-of-repose" for this range of clast sizes.  

[These considerations are usable in discussions of "Cycles of Erosion and Deposition"; "Changes in Flood Velocity and Capacity" due to "Gradient Variations" and degree of "Valley Confinement"; as well as "Soil-Moisture Retention" due to this being on the east side of the mountains.  Suitable for Physical Geology, Hydrology, Weather and Climate, Environmental Science, and Ecology.] 

 Figure 1B.

At the time I was taking this above photo, I wasn't thinking of educational resources or scholarly discussions, I was thinking "Well damn, I will not be doing much exploration in this area of the NE quadrant".  With that, after exploring what I could, I returned to the comfort of the "home base" at East Mill.  (This autumn photo below was probably taken at that time.)

Figure 2.  (Looking approximately Northeast.)

[Please forgive the dust spots on the sky portion of the photo.]

East Mill is a special place for me, even after not having visited it in 40+ years.  Other than a distant train passing miles away, across Eagle Flat, and random airplanes (some to be discussed below), all you could hear was the wind.  So calming as to be spooky at night, when alone.

A weather-related memory stands out amongst the East Mill events of the summer of 1978.

Within the Desert Southwest, usually in early-July, the summer heating of the continental U.S. landmass triggers a "quasi-Monsoon Effect", drawing in moist air from the Gulf of Mexico and the Gulf of California.  We welcomed the appearance of clouds over the mountains (Orographic Effect), as they brought us some shade.  But often that shade was followed by thunderstorms that forced us back to East Mill.

One afternoon, with active clouds in the area, we had "knocked off" and eaten dinner early, as we expected storms.  

[In the view shown in Figure 2, directly behind us, in the Red Light Bolson was the Rio Grande, cutting across at a NW-to-SE angle.  In Mexico, the term "Rio Grande" is not used until downstream of the confluence of the "Rio Conchos" with the "Rio Bravo" ("Rio Grande" of American usage).] 

With an hour and a half of daylight left, a small but intense thunderstorm, that probably began in Mexico, crossed over the ridge west of East Mill, and for about 10 minutes we were treated to heavy rain and lightning strikes within a quarter-mile.  We both piled into my truck and backed up-slope for maybe a 200 yards, to get a little further away from the windmill.

After the storm was "finished" with us, we returned the truck to its normal position.  We stepped out and enjoyed the cool, freshly-washed air.  As the storm trundled across Eagle Flat, then the Carrizo Mts., and across I-10 towards the Beach Mts. (NW of Van Horn), something happened.  It seemed to stop moving.  After a few minutes, it became apparent to me that the storm had reversed direction (by 180 degrees) and was coming back for another noisy visit.

I said "It's coming back.", to which Dan replied, "That's impossible!".  We argued briefly, then I decided to shut up and let the storm do the talking.  A few minutes later, Dan had to admit, "The storm is coming back ... "  

Sure enough, the damn storm drifted about 10 - 15 miles northeast, before the winds changed and pushed it back for Round 2.  We again backed the truck up the hill and watched as the storm repeated its performance, after which it traveled back over the ridge and returned to Mexico.  And with that, our Meteorology lesson in "the Movement of Convection Thunderstorms" was over.

I regret having lost touch with Dan.  If memory serves me correctly, he may have been from upstate New York.  He had a rather laidback attitude about things for a northerner.  I only heard him cuss twice, both times during our being set upon in the Eagle Mts. - at different times - by plagues of gnats and then wasps.  No fellow grad students had ever mentioned being besieged by either.  

When the gnats were at their peak, it seemed that they were desperate for moisture to the point of getting it from your eyes, nose, and mouth, driving Dan to cussing and stating that he was "ready to quit Geology and go sell insurance".  Oh, the heresy!  During the plague, we discovered that the gnats were victimizing other mammals as well.  One day, Dan managed to quietly walk to within 6 feet of a rabbit, because it was rubbing its front paws over its nose and eyes in search of relief.  It finally noticed him and hopped off.  It wasn't until we got a good rain that the gnats subsided.

Sometime later, we gradually started seeing a growing number of reddish-orange wasps flying about.  As they flew closely around us, their behavior seemed more about curiosity than aggression, perhaps they were asking "Well, did you bring us something to eat?".  As luck would have it, we had forgotten to bring any wasp treats.  Dan's second episode of cussing followed one of the curious wasps crawling into his backpack and when he reached in for something, the wasp demonstrated that it COULD sting if it needed to. 

[Sorry, still compiling the list of References.]

William Least Heat-Moon Intro

For the next few days, I will be paying respectful homage to author William Least Heat-Moon (Dr. William Trogdon).  If you are not familiar with him, he is considered a modern-day "Dean of American Travel Writers" (in my humble opinion).  His demographic background is primarily English, Irish, and Osage.

As a first-time writer, his 1983 book "Blue Highways: A Journey into America" came about following the 1978 loss of his teaching job at the University of Missouri - Columbia and his unwanted separation from his first wife.  

From memory (I last reread the book in 2014), the confluence of these painful events seemingly triggered a period of introspection while he "plotted his next move".  Again from memory, it was during this introspection that he reconnected with his Osage roots.

Faced with his uncertain future, he sold off his possessions and scraped up funds to buy a 1975 Ford Econoline van, built in a bunk, added portable toilet, and some other basic travel amenities, and set out on a 3-month long journey that covered 13,000+ miles on back roads, i.e., the "blue highways" in the Rand McNally road atlas, steadfastly avoiding interstate highways and large cities when possible.  In the spirit of his Osage heritage, he named the van "Ghost Dancer".

He made a point of visiting rural small towns with unusual names, e.g., Dime Box, Texas, and Hachita, New Mexico, seeking out and chatting with locals.  If he saw a long-closed store or cafe or an abandoned bus or train station, he would ask about it.  

In this and subsequent books, aside from local history and culture, he did touch upon other subjects within the realm of "Ecocentrism", wherein he weaves together nature-related subjects, e.g., Ecology, Geology, Botany, with local agriculture, history, industry, and economics into the narrative. 

Initially, as there was a level of semi-isolation on these "blue highways" and the towns thereon, some of the people were unsure about "talking with this stranger", but his manners and methods seemed to put them at ease, to the point where they "opened up" to him, while he subtly kept notes.  

Perhaps because they were "speaking with a friendly stranger" (and felt somewhat anonymous), Heat-Moon was often surprised by the "secrets" they would tell him.  Perhaps it was because of the nature of "everybody knowing everybody else's business" in a small town, this was an opportunity to "spill secrets" to an "outsider" without your aged Aunt Martha or the local "Gladys Kravitz" finding out.

By his own account (in the video to be posted tomorrow), the journey took about 100 days.  As mentioned above, at that point he was a first-time writer, an "unknown quantity" to the book editors and publishers of the time, in a genre - American travel by car - that was not seen as glamorous (nor profitable). 

By the time he was "finished" with the project (if one ever is), by his video account, he went through ten drafts.  By his own estimates, from 1978 until the book's 1982 publishing, he spent 1500 days describing the 100 days of his journey.  The follow-up book to "Blue Highways" (though not chronologically) is "Writing Blue Highways" (2014), about the herculean obstacles facing a "rookie author".

Almost 40 years after its 1982 publishing, "Blue Highways" continues to be hailed as a "masterpiece of American travel writing", influencing many people to embark upon their own exploratory journeys across and around the country and in some cases, make a record of that journey, by video and by blog, two media that did not exist contemporaneously with "Blue Highways".  (From his video though, it seems that he is happy making notes on a composition notebook or perhaps a legal pad.)

My first reading of "Blue Highways" took place sometime in the latter months of 1982, if memory serves me correctly.  My former roommate Dave (my 1974 Road Trip cohort) was by then working in a bookstore in a major Northern Atlanta mall and he highly recommended it.  I enjoyed the book, though I was unaware of any subsequent Heat-Moon books until I did a computer search to purchase another copy of "Blue Highways" in 2014.

In 2014, as the fourth-decadal anniversary (40th anniversary) of the 1974 Road Trip approached, I reread "Blue Highways", which inspired me to consider writing my own narrative about the 1974 Road Trip.  Aside from that resurgence of a desire to write, I also had a desire to read more of Heat-Moon's books, in no particular order.  

Heat-Moon's books are so well-detailed that once immersed within one, (paraphrasing a YouTube comment), the reader is "almost afraid of finishing it".  Actually, as they are non-fiction, I wish the books each had an index, so I could look up particular passages and terms to reread and refresh my memory.

A brief bibliography of the books of William Least Heat-Moon (spanning parts of four decades) that I have read follows:

• Blue Highways: A Journey Into America. (1982) 
• PrairyErth (A Deep Map). (1991)
• River Horse: The Logbook of a Boat Across America. (1999) 
  
• Roads to Quoz: An American Mosey.  (2008)
• Here, There, Elsewhere: Stories from the Road. (2013) 
  
• Writing Blue Highways: The Story of How a Book Happened.  (2014)

Here is a link to a C-Span Program about "Blue Highways", apparently from 2012.

There may be an upcoming post or two about the book that followed "Blue Highways", "PrairyErth", in 1991.

Wind Erosion and Landforms in Arid Environments

Posted for the same reasons as yesterday.  I miss the Western United States and its diverse Geology and Ecology.  In particular, Arches National Park.  After camera failures in 1977 and 1979, I finally returned there in 2016.  

Even when traveling alone, if I wanted to see someone "next weekend" in a distant city, I had to keep to a schedule of sorts.  So, circumstances only allowed half a day at Arches, but I got some photos after waiting almost 40 years.

 Figure 1.  Delicate Arch

 Figure 2.  Double Arch.

Figure 3.  Windows Arch.

Figure 4.  South Window Arch.

Welcome to 2022! - Part 1

In order to find and focus on the Positives, e.g., the personal successes and shortfalls (and what we have learned from them) of 2021 and plans for 2022, ...

In this time of seemingly-increasing madness, our own lives are the lives mostly-likely influenced by our own personal choices and deeds.  Positive choices can provide a modicum of serenity and positive outcomes (even small ones) can provide a sense of achieving "small victories", even if they are only victories over our own bad habits and self-doubts.  

There has been some research that suggests that seemingly-small accomplishments may provide to our brains little doses of Oxytocin, i.e., that relieved feeling of "Hey, I got that done." and provide a basis and confidence for addressing another self-identified concern or task.  Especially if you sense that someone else had doubts that you would actually finish the task.  (Even without saying it, in your own mind, you "proved them wrong.")  

If you "begin" a series of tasks with one or two of your own choosing, when you finish them, the minor emotional lift may help you when you embark upon more-difficult, involved, and/or unwanted (but necessary) tasks, as well as any "unexpected" tasks.  

An example of an "accomplished goal" of 2021 - though not an "official New Year's Resolution" (that often fall by the wayside) - was the outdoor walking program suggested by my wife and begun last January.  As I hadn't engaged in a focused walking program since my "mall walking" of 2016, with my doctor's approval, I began gradually, only walking 12.35 miles that first month.  

With the initial "every other day" routine getting my leg muscles, feet, and knees acclimated to walking, within a week or two, I began walking every day (as my schedule allowed).  Within a short time, I silently resolved to average 67 miles (= to my age) per month for the entire year, a distance of 804 miles.  Except for four months, I exceeded that goal every month.  

Those exceptions - January, June (due to foot pain resolved by a Podiatrist visit), August (van preparation and embarking upon our 22-day "Great Northern Adventure"), and September ("vacation recuperation" and Georgia heat and walking re-acclimation) really "pulled my average down", necessitating a renewed sense-of-purpose.  With the cooling Fall weather and walking 124+ miles in November and 104+ miles in December, I reached my 67 miles-per-month average on December 30th. 

Benefits of the walking program were noticed by my doctor and friends.  After a diet-related 2020 weight loss of 15 lbs. (225 to 210), I was managing similar 2021 weight loss, until the dreaded late-November to New Year's Eve time, "where diets go to die" (my wife is a great cook).  Still, I managed to end the year with a 5 lb. (210 to 205) weight loss.  (Not quite I what wanted, but at least two years in the right direction.)

To close this New Year's blather, aside from the above benefits, a downside to my 67-miles-per-month walking program was in my book-reading regimen.  I usually read at least one book per month, but in 2021 I only managed four books total, plus two more in progress.  In another post, I will review all six books, all of which have ecology-related themes (sometimes indirectly though).  In 2021, five of the six books were purchased from local used bookstores and thrift stores, and only one of the six books had I even heard of before.

I also plan to post more "original content" material and not so much of other peoples' Youtube videos.  The problem is, "original content" takes time to write and edit and I want a somewhat steady stream of posts, to keep myself on track to resume a writing project (about my 1974 Road Trip) which was suspended after my wife's September 2019 car accident, in which she was rear-ended at an Athens, Georgia red light.  

Since 1979, she has been rear-ended eight times and has also broadsided a "stop sign runner", i.e., none of them were her fault.  As she is in her mid-60s, there has been a cumulative, negative effect on her overall health, which is why it is difficult for her to drive or ride for 6+ hours in our van, despite the seats being comfortable.  This limits our vacation travel and is a reason why we missed visiting Devils Tower while we were in the Black Hills area.

Willie Nelson - "Nothing I Can Do About It Now" [Live from Austin, TX]

 In my ongoing series: "Down Memory Lane, Lurching I Go, Again ... Parts 1 - 7", I have expressed repeated lamentations about not finishing my part of this Eagle Mts. project, (though I did go on to do a Master's Thesis in another volcanic setting associated with the Aden Basalts in southern New Mexico, a few years later.)

In light of these disappointments, I had posted an apt Willie Nelson philosophical view of this part of my past, but the video of "Nothing I Can Do About It Now" was withdrawn.  The disappointments will always remain, but they will never overshadow the learning adventures, memories, photographs, and experiences I enjoyed 41 years ago.

Revisiting the mountains and camping again at East Mill is a "Bucket List" item that can likely never be fulfilled - for a variety of reasons.  One reason, at age 65+ one simply shouldn't redo some of the things done at age 24.  Grinding around those mountain roads in 4-wheel drive at 10 mph, getting stuck in loose rocks, and having to dig and wedge rocks under the tires - to escape - for example, is the stuff of memories. 

So, it is best to focus on the learning opportunities of things that happened "then" and recounted "now".  Things that include Geology, Geography, Ecology, Environmental Science, Photography, History (I didn't even mention the roles Eagle Spring played (Underwood, 1980) at the northern end of the mountains, as a stagecoach stop and a place in which the "Buffalo Soldiers" took shelter as they were being chased by Victorio's renegades), ...

In that regard, I hope something positive is gained amidst my blatherings.

Reference:

Underwood, J.R., 1980  Eagle Spring Station on the San Antonio - San Diego Mail Line, in Dickerson, P.W., Hoffer, J.M., and Callender, J.F. (eds.) Trans Pecos Region (West Texas), New Mexico Geological Society 31st Annual Fall Field Conference Guidebook, pp. 311 - 314

The Secret Language of Trees

Not Geology, but important in understanding Ecology.

What a Geologist Thinks About...[Original Post Date 9/15/07]

often while reading or hearing a news report on a "man vs. nature" issue, is - "Why is this happening?". From The Seattle Times, by way of WND - there is a story on serious coastal erosion problems on the northern side of Willapa Bay along the southwest Washington State Pacific Coastline (see inset map associated with the article). Though there are some explanations within the article, we realize that there may be more than one reason why this is happening.

From the Seattle Times article:

..."This two miles of shoreline at the northern confluence of the Pacific Ocean and Willapa Bay, 12 miles south of Westport, is believed to be the fastest-eroding beach on the Pacific Coast. It has lost about 65 feet a year to the sea since the late 1800s. More than 100 homes, including the entire town of North Cove, have already disappeared, many of them in the past 20 years."...

Shorelines are unquestionably active - deposition takes place in some areas, while erosion takes place in other areas. The first question would be - "Is there something humans have done to make this natural process worse?" Can we estimate how long this rate of erosion has been taking place?

Sometimes along shorelines, erosion control efforts, e.g., jetties, groins, seawalls,...may slow erosion in their intended area, while making it worse somewhere else. And it may take decades to see the results. We have to look carefully before spending additional millions of taxpayer dollars, when any "fix" may be only temporary.

One of my cousins rents a beach house every summer at St. Simons Island, GA. It didn't used to be a beach house. Up until the late 1950s/early 1960s, there used to be another row of cottages along the shoreline. The loss of this row of cottages was not the result of ongoing regional shoreline migration, but the effects of a couple of hurricanes. [Yes, before 1970, there was another "active hurricane cycle", which may have started in the 1940s.]

As for the Pacific Coast in SW Washington State:

..."George Kaminsky, a coastal engineer for the state Department of Ecology who has studied the erosion since 1993, thinks it has become "self-feeding."

Sand from the Columbia River built up a sandbar at the mouth of Willapa Bay, channeling the water flowing out of the bay straight into Cape Shoalwater. And as the cape eroded, the sand built up the sandbar even more.

Pinpointing the original trigger is difficult, Kaminsky said. But man-made jetties likely have halted a natural sand migration that could reverse the erosion."...

This local interruption of sand migration is a form of "sand starvation", i.e., a normal supply of sand might have protected the shoreline.

And though this Seattle Times article doesn't address this possibility, there could be a larger "sand starvation" issue along the coastline. This Wikipedia map shows more than 2 dozen dams in the Columbia River drainage basin (watershed). Prior to the construction of these dams, the down-river perpetual movement of sand, as "bedload" and as "suspended load" (during storms), kept an ample supply of loose sand available for distribution at the "whims" of longshore currents.

Each one of the dams on this map disrupts the normal river transport of sand, ultimately resulting in there being less sand reaching the Pacific Ocean than there was prior to the construction of the first dam. The cumulative effects of the existence of these dams (for decades) is that there is "sand starvation" along portions of the coastline.

This is a problem that takes decades to reveal itself and other than the "deep ecologist" dream of dynamiting everyone one of these dams, there is probably not an easy solution. The dams are a source of relatively clean energy and the environmental disruptions associated with building the dams has already taken place. To remove the dams (or open them permanently) would again represent a series of environmental disruptions. Besides, it would take decades for the sand supply to "resume" it pre-dam transport pattern.

Geo-Learning

It goes on daily.  

Or at least I try to learn something daily, whether it be Geology, Biology, Ecology, Environmental Science, Photography, Botany, History,...

(Whisper, whisper,...this is to partially-offset what has been forgotten over the years.)

Yesterday, it was the Vulcanology-related use of "boca" (Spanish for "mouth").  My first exposure to the term was at Capulin Volcano in northeastern New Mexico in the summer of 2015.

There is a good resource available, "High Plains of Northeastern New Mexico: A Guide to Geology and Culture", New Mexico Bureau Geology & Mineral Resources; Scenic Trip Series, Number 19.  (2005) Muelhberger, Muehlberger, and Price.

(Screenshot below from this source.)

Originally, I purchased this book while planning a 2009 summer vacation for my first wife, son, and me.  After visiting relatives in NW Oklahoma, the plan was to go a bit "beyond there", as finances and time permitted.

But "as we make our plans, life happens".  As the summer of 2009 approached, my son in-law had a job interview in NYC and my daughter didn't want to be left alone at home with a 3 month-old son.  So she planned to drive her SUV with my wife and I rented a Plymouth PT Cruiser for my son and I to caravan to Oklahoma and back.  [The "NYC gig" lasted for about two years, deemed to be good for a short bit, but too expensive.  So they came back to Georgia.]

On the 2009 journey, as 3 month-old Ben was not used to be in a car seat for long distances, he screamed incessantly, frazzling my daughter, the new Mom.  Frequent stops were necessary, as she didn't know if he was hungry, wet, dirty, or just dissatisfied with the car seat with his vocal protestations.  We got to Oklahoma to see the inlaws and so they could meet their first great-grandchild.

Not wanting to be on the road for longer than needed, the NM trip was nixed.  And my absorption of the book was no longer needed.

As we planned to go by Dallas on the way back to see more relatives and frequent "Ben stops" were necessary, once we got to I-35 south of Oklahoma City, my son and I were able to take the short back road (US Hwy 77) through the Arbuckle Mts. and I did get some "geo-photos" and a few rock samples (pictures in a later post), before we hooked back up via cellphone.

After returning to Georgia, the book went back on the shelf until the tumultuous summer of 2015.  In the interim, my only thought about the discarded plans were "I want to visit Capulin Volcano, someday".

(Story to be continued on "Itinerent Geologist", soon.)

Vanlife Conversion Update: May 2021- 1995 Chevy G20

(I don't think I have posted this one before.)

For the time being, perhaps to keep me motivated, I may be dropping van videos into the mix of Geology and Ecology videos and sporadic posts of my own.  Today, I did purchase some samples of wood to start composing some Van Go! changes.

In this previous post, aside from the "visiting video", i.e., not my own but pertinent to the subject, I posted some of my thoughts about our initiation into the world of van camping and what else is on my mind as far as changing some interior features.

Tom Wessels: The Ecology of Coevolved Species

In the heat of Summer, perhaps now is a time to think about the coolness of Northeastern U.S. conifer forests.

Tom Wessels: The Ecology of Coevolved Species - A Revisiting

New England's Roadside Ecology with Tom Wessels

Notable Terms to Learn:

"Root Graft" - in regard to trees, the term refers to morphological interconnections, i.e., growing together of contacting roots of the same tree species (self-root grafting).  Among trees of different species, it is called intraspecific root grafting.  (I would assume that most of the time, these interactions happen below the surface.)

Along these same lines, natural limb-grafting and trunk-grafting can take place as well, in places where limbs and trunks have been in close contact for years (perhaps decades).  (I have photos but finding them is another issue.)

"Callus Wood" - The initial growth response to a tree wound, from storm damage or tree cutting.  If the tree is healthy, then the Callus becomes overgrown with "Woundwood" (in which the cells have become more specialized (differentiated and lignified).  In the Figure 1 image, the light-colored ring around the cut area is likely the "Woundwood".

Figure 1.

Here is a good article on the subject.  Here is an online discussion.

"Woundwood" - When Callus cells become differentiated and lignified.

Arborist (Arboriculture) discussions.

Beginning a Forestry Library:

Tom Wessels: The Ecology of Coevolved Species

Identification and Ecology of Common Northeastern Hardwood Trees