Hey - have you seen that email that is making the rounds - the one declaring we should all go outside at 12:30 AM on 27 August to see Mars as big as the moon in the sky?
Well...
Don't You Believe It!
I mean, seriously, folks - do you really think that Mars, which is soooo far away, could EVER appear as large as the moon? It would have to be practically on top of the moon to look that big, and that would mean it would have to leave its orbit. Not gonna happen!
But, if you should decide to look out your window at the moon on the 27th, you might see something bright near the moon. That will be Jupiter...just in case you are wondering.
If you don't believe me, check out this article:
http://earthsky.org/astronomy-essentials/will-mars-appear-as-large-as-a-full-moon-in-august-2010.
Happy sky watching!
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Nine Million Shots of the Moon
When I went outside to dump some compostables into the compost bin last night, the nearly full moon was lurking behind some clouds, looking all soft and lovely. I had to try to capture it with the camera. Of course, by the time I got the camera, the clouds had moved. Still, there were plenty of other clouds in the sky, so I figured I'd have good odds at getting similar images. No such luck, but I took a whole mess of photos anyway.
The clouds were actually moving at a pretty good clip, so even with some of the faster shutter speeds, they still came out blurred. Regardless, I was able to capture some interesting images. Now, I know some of them look an awful lot alike, but a careful eye will see that there are differences.
The clouds were actually moving at a pretty good clip, so even with some of the faster shutter speeds, they still came out blurred. Regardless, I was able to capture some interesting images. Now, I know some of them look an awful lot alike, but a careful eye will see that there are differences.
Completely Off Topic
When I was a little girl, I used to love to go up in the attic at my grandparents' and great-grandparents' house in Gloversville. It was a mostly finished attic in an old house. It had a full floor, windows, and actual rooms. One of these rooms was a bedroom my sister and I sometimes used when visiting (it was hotter than a skunk in the summer). But the real joy of this attic was the "Civil War Stuff."
My great-grandfather spent a good part of his youth with a neighboring family, the Getmans. They lived over in Mayfield. I got the impression from stories I heard that the Getmans pretty much raised my great-grandfather.
Now, David Getman was the key figure in most of the stories associated with The Stuff. He was a soldier in the Civil War, and had been captured by the South and sent to Libby Prison. It's my understanding that Libby Prison was known as one of the worst prisons during this war. Few folks got out alive. Long story short, David escaped. I recall tales of him escaping on the underside of a railroad train, but my mother's recollections are that he was being transported with a bunch of other prisoners and escaped from the boxcar and hid out in the woods. I remember tales of hiding in swamps and such. The clothes he returned in were pretty tattered by the time he got home.
Anywho, there in the attic used to be not only David Getman's uniform and sword, but also a trunk full of ledgers. I remember sitting in the attic reading through these ledgers. It wasn't gripping reading, but it was history: lists of soldiers' names, their height (none were very tall), the color of their hair and eyes, their rank and I think also their wages, but I wouldn't swear to that. The ledgers and David's sword reside with my mother's cousin.
The same cousin had, at one time, a whole bunch of letters written by and to David Getman. Apparently the man, in his youth, was a bit of a rogue and a cad, as evidenced by the content of some of these letters. At one point this cousin loaned the letters back to my great-grandmother, and they subsequently vanished. Another piece of history lost.
However, there was another trunk, made of red-painted wicker, that contained a bunch of old clothes. When my grandparents downsized to a much smaller house (I miss that old house on Oxford Terrace), I luckily inherited this trunk. I love history and having this tie to history is wonderful - I can touch stuff that is over a hundred years old (not old by world history standards, of course, but in American history, it's old). And the late-1800s seem sooo long ago, what with all the technology we have today.
Anyway, as I age, I know that I cannot take care of these old clothes in the way they should be cared for. They are really in pretty good condition and should be in a museum. So, I've contacted the Adirondack Museum to see if they might be interested. After all, these are from folks who lived in Mayfield, Northville, and Gloversville - the foothills of the Adirondacks.
And just because I love to share stuff, I thought I'd share not only the little history about these things that I remember, but also photos of the best pieces.
This first is the best of the best. It's a woman's dress made from blue and brown striped fabrics. This is the back of the dress. The portion that sits over the wearer's lower back has a LOT of fabric gathered in very small pleats. I imagine this was the bustle. There isn't a big, fancy bustle on the back, but being somewhat familiar with old undergarments (more from the Middle Ages than the Civil War, though), I know women used to wear all sorts of strange things under their clothes to make them poof in particular areas (farthingales have got to be some of the strangest of these things). I'm guessing here, but I suspect there was some sort of "bump" on the bum that made a bulge here, over which this pleated area lay and gave the woman that Edwardian glamor-girl look. The bottom of the skirt is all ruched.
Here's we have a terrible view of the front of the dress. I'll try to get better photos, perhaps out in the sun this afternoon. It has a blue ribbon tied in a bow it the front - the ends of which hang down to the ground. When I was in, oh, junior high school maybe, I put this dress on. Have photos of it somewhere. It fit beautifully...except for the ribs. Couldn't close the top completely. Ah, corsets...so glad I never had to wear one of those!
Here's a close-up of the lighter material, and the ruching on the sleeve. What workmanship!
My great-grandfather spent a good part of his youth with a neighboring family, the Getmans. They lived over in Mayfield. I got the impression from stories I heard that the Getmans pretty much raised my great-grandfather.
Now, David Getman was the key figure in most of the stories associated with The Stuff. He was a soldier in the Civil War, and had been captured by the South and sent to Libby Prison. It's my understanding that Libby Prison was known as one of the worst prisons during this war. Few folks got out alive. Long story short, David escaped. I recall tales of him escaping on the underside of a railroad train, but my mother's recollections are that he was being transported with a bunch of other prisoners and escaped from the boxcar and hid out in the woods. I remember tales of hiding in swamps and such. The clothes he returned in were pretty tattered by the time he got home.
Anywho, there in the attic used to be not only David Getman's uniform and sword, but also a trunk full of ledgers. I remember sitting in the attic reading through these ledgers. It wasn't gripping reading, but it was history: lists of soldiers' names, their height (none were very tall), the color of their hair and eyes, their rank and I think also their wages, but I wouldn't swear to that. The ledgers and David's sword reside with my mother's cousin.
The same cousin had, at one time, a whole bunch of letters written by and to David Getman. Apparently the man, in his youth, was a bit of a rogue and a cad, as evidenced by the content of some of these letters. At one point this cousin loaned the letters back to my great-grandmother, and they subsequently vanished. Another piece of history lost.
However, there was another trunk, made of red-painted wicker, that contained a bunch of old clothes. When my grandparents downsized to a much smaller house (I miss that old house on Oxford Terrace), I luckily inherited this trunk. I love history and having this tie to history is wonderful - I can touch stuff that is over a hundred years old (not old by world history standards, of course, but in American history, it's old). And the late-1800s seem sooo long ago, what with all the technology we have today.
Anyway, as I age, I know that I cannot take care of these old clothes in the way they should be cared for. They are really in pretty good condition and should be in a museum. So, I've contacted the Adirondack Museum to see if they might be interested. After all, these are from folks who lived in Mayfield, Northville, and Gloversville - the foothills of the Adirondacks.
And just because I love to share stuff, I thought I'd share not only the little history about these things that I remember, but also photos of the best pieces.
This first is the best of the best. It's a woman's dress made from blue and brown striped fabrics. This is the back of the dress. The portion that sits over the wearer's lower back has a LOT of fabric gathered in very small pleats. I imagine this was the bustle. There isn't a big, fancy bustle on the back, but being somewhat familiar with old undergarments (more from the Middle Ages than the Civil War, though), I know women used to wear all sorts of strange things under their clothes to make them poof in particular areas (farthingales have got to be some of the strangest of these things). I'm guessing here, but I suspect there was some sort of "bump" on the bum that made a bulge here, over which this pleated area lay and gave the woman that Edwardian glamor-girl look. The bottom of the skirt is all ruched.
Here's we have a terrible view of the front of the dress. I'll try to get better photos, perhaps out in the sun this afternoon. It has a blue ribbon tied in a bow it the front - the ends of which hang down to the ground. When I was in, oh, junior high school maybe, I put this dress on. Have photos of it somewhere. It fit beautifully...except for the ribs. Couldn't close the top completely. Ah, corsets...so glad I never had to wear one of those!
Here's a close-up of the lighter material, and the ruching on the sleeve. What workmanship!
I don't know the history of this blue shirt, but I think it belonged to my paternal grandmother (I had a trunk full of clothes from her youth, too, although most of them have been passed along to one of my cousins). It is very small - the woman who wore it must've had a heck of a corset!
Can you imagine buttoning up all these buttons! I counted 29 - but there could be 30 (would make more sense than 29, wouldn't it?).
The embroidery is lovely. I can't tell, though, if it is done by hand or machine. If this is turn-of-the-century, I'd think it would be hand-sewn, but machines were doing amazing things by then, so maybe it's machine work. I'll have to look more closely. Maybe Hallie, from the Museum (who will be viewing these this afternoon) will have an idea.
Here is the detail on the sleeve. Wonderful lace work.
The bottom of the dress, which is a heavy material, possibly cotton, has these buttons on it. It brings to mind photos taken at various Adirondack Camps or Hotels in the early 1900s, when the women all wore white in the summer.
Here's the matching coat. Also a heavy material, with the same lace work on the front
This combo is a thin white shift, which might have been an underdress or slip, except for the little bolero type jacket that goes with it. The dress is sleeveless.
Here's a close-up of the little jacket. I have photos of the dress, but the stains, which don't really show in truth, are really brown in the photos, thanks, no doubt, to the flash. I'll try to retake pics in the sunlight.
The embroidery is lovely. I can't tell, though, if it is done by hand or machine. If this is turn-of-the-century, I'd think it would be hand-sewn, but machines were doing amazing things by then, so maybe it's machine work. I'll have to look more closely. Maybe Hallie, from the Museum (who will be viewing these this afternoon) will have an idea.
My mom believes this white dress (and the accompanying coat, which is four shots further down) was my great-grandmother's graduation dress. Josephine Sowle. She was born 4 July 1894. She became a school teacher in Hageman (apparently for just one year), and then at age 19 (1913) married my great-grandfather, Edward Curran Brown.
Here is the detail on the sleeve. Wonderful lace work.
The bottom of the dress, which is a heavy material, possibly cotton, has these buttons on it. It brings to mind photos taken at various Adirondack Camps or Hotels in the early 1900s, when the women all wore white in the summer.
Here's the matching coat. Also a heavy material, with the same lace work on the front
This combo is a thin white shift, which might have been an underdress or slip, except for the little bolero type jacket that goes with it. The dress is sleeveless.
Here's a close-up of the little jacket. I have photos of the dress, but the stains, which don't really show in truth, are really brown in the photos, thanks, no doubt, to the flash. I'll try to retake pics in the sunlight.
Other items in the chest include a LOT of gloves, two pairs of black stockings, two sets of glasses, a couple hats, lots of "costume" jewelry, a couple pairs of men's breeches, one of which has the type of button fly in the front that one sees in drawings from the Revolutionary War period. Could these be the ones David Getman wore when he escaped from Libbey Prison? Highly unlikely - these are pretty clean and whole. The family had the tattered pants at one point, but they,too, have gone missing. There's also a box full of ostrich feathers - no doubt a leftover from the millinery trade when feathers (and entire birds) were all the rage on women's hats.
As an aside, I also have several of David Getman's books. The two that stick out in my mind are Solomon Northup's "Twelve Years a Slave" (first edition), and the History of the Great War (about the Civil War; also probably a first edition). These I'll be hanging on to.
Thursday, August 19, 2010
A Glorious Morning
It was such a beautiful morning that I had to abandon the office and get out on the trails. I headed for the Sucker Brook Trail, always a good choice.
The water level of the lake is quite low. We've barely had a half inch of rain this month, and July was also quite dry (about 3"). So I was able to walk along a shoreline that is usually underwater.
The gentians are pretty much past their prime, but oh, the cardinal flowers (Lobelia cardinalis) really are glorious this year!
As I recall, the structure of the cardinal flower is designed so that when a hummingbird attempts to score some nectar, the finger that sticks out above whaps the bird on the head, effectively attaching the pollen. When the hummer flies on to the next flower, its head is whapped again and pollen exchange takes place. Here is a close up of the reproductive parts. Pretty nifty, eh?
The water level of the lake is quite low. We've barely had a half inch of rain this month, and July was also quite dry (about 3"). So I was able to walk along a shoreline that is usually underwater.
The gentians are pretty much past their prime, but oh, the cardinal flowers (Lobelia cardinalis) really are glorious this year!
As I recall, the structure of the cardinal flower is designed so that when a hummingbird attempts to score some nectar, the finger that sticks out above whaps the bird on the head, effectively attaching the pollen. When the hummer flies on to the next flower, its head is whapped again and pollen exchange takes place. Here is a close up of the reproductive parts. Pretty nifty, eh?
Another flower blooming along the now-exposed beach was this delicate little yellow fellow. It was on a long thin stem,
with only a small cluster of thin, grass-like leaves at the base (the ones held by my fingers, not the larger, dark green ones). This turned out to be creeping spearwort (Ranunculus reptans), a member of the buttercup family and a new flower for my lifelist. As I looked around, I spotted a few more. A pretty little plant. 
with only a small cluster of thin, grass-like leaves at the base (the ones held by my fingers, not the larger, dark green ones). This turned out to be creeping spearwort (Ranunculus reptans), a member of the buttercup family and a new flower for my lifelist. As I looked around, I spotted a few more. A pretty little plant.
Update: I was doing a little research on this little plant and found myself bogged down in a morass of taxonomy. Y'see, I like to get things labeled correctly, and this plant was just not lending itself to that. The Newcomb's field guide called it creeping spearwort - R. reptans, but on-line all I could find was R. flammula. My Revised Checklist of NYS Plants listed R. flammula, but not R. reptans. Then I found a website that called R. reptans greater creeping spearwort, and R. flammula lesser creeping spearwort. Okay, I thought, I can work with this, but the next website I read had them reversed. ARGH! So I wrote to my botany buddy Jackie for her opinion. Here's what she wrote: I know only one Creeping Spearwort, and it's the one listed in Newcomb's as Ranunculus reptans. But this name has since been updated, according to info Steve Young sent, to Ranunculus flammula var. reptans. So, if you are like me, and like to get all your labels correct, it looks like this is the latest version for this little plant.
While hanging out on one of the bridges, I noticed a silvery spot on the water. It was a large group of insects - possibly whirlygig beetles or something similar. They just sort of sat there, barely milling about.
On a whim, I decided to "shoot some video" of the insects, just in case they did something. Sure enough, something caused a disturbance in the mass. A puff of wind? A gang of fish? Who knows.
On a whim, I decided to "shoot some video" of the insects, just in case they did something. Sure enough, something caused a disturbance in the mass. A puff of wind? A gang of fish? Who knows.When the proverbial dust settled, the insects arranged themselves into two rows instead of one blob.
In the winter I constantly photograph the sulfur yellow naked leaf buds of the hobblebush (Viburnum alnifolium), but here they are already - waiting for next spring to open completely and start photosynthesizing.
The hobblebush fruits are ripening now, too. Do you see what's all over the fruits?
How about now? These ants were very busily swarming all over the fruits. I wonder why? There were no aphids evident, so these couldn't have been shepherding ants. What could they have been after?
This lovely little moth thought it could fool me as it flitted across the path, executed a neat flip and dove to the leaf-littered ground beneath the low vegetation. It took a moment, but despite its clever camouflage, I was able to locate it.
I love jewelweed. It is such a lovely plant, and comes in two colors: yellow and orange. The orange ones are also called orange touch-me-nots (Impatiens capensis), while the yellow ones are pale touch-me-nots (I. pallida). Why are they called "touch-me-not"? It's not because they have thorns, or prickles, or a rash-causing toxin. Nope, it's because when the seed pods are ripe, the slightest touch will cause them to explode open, shooting out their seeds like so many mini cannonballs.
I never noticed before, but jewelweed flowers are attached to the plant in a rather odd location. They look kind of like goldfish that have had a fishing line glued to the tops of their heads.
The long white fibers on the leaves of this plant (I didn't spend time looking at the plant to ID it, but my impression was raspberry) caught my eye. Every leaf cluster looked like this one. I knew it wasn't something "normal," and I suspected aphids. It actually reminded me of wooly alder aphids, but this wasn't an alder, and the white fibers were too long for WAAs. I was flummoxed.
How about now? These ants were very busily swarming all over the fruits. I wonder why? There were no aphids evident, so these couldn't have been shepherding ants. What could they have been after?
This lovely little moth thought it could fool me as it flitted across the path, executed a neat flip and dove to the leaf-littered ground beneath the low vegetation. It took a moment, but despite its clever camouflage, I was able to locate it.
I love jewelweed. It is such a lovely plant, and comes in two colors: yellow and orange. The orange ones are also called orange touch-me-nots (Impatiens capensis), while the yellow ones are pale touch-me-nots (I. pallida). Why are they called "touch-me-not"? It's not because they have thorns, or prickles, or a rash-causing toxin. Nope, it's because when the seed pods are ripe, the slightest touch will cause them to explode open, shooting out their seeds like so many mini cannonballs.
I never noticed before, but jewelweed flowers are attached to the plant in a rather odd location. They look kind of like goldfish that have had a fishing line glued to the tops of their heads.
The long white fibers on the leaves of this plant (I didn't spend time looking at the plant to ID it, but my impression was raspberry) caught my eye. Every leaf cluster looked like this one. I knew it wasn't something "normal," and I suspected aphids. It actually reminded me of wooly alder aphids, but this wasn't an alder, and the white fibers were too long for WAAs. I was flummoxed.
Here's what I saw on the back side. If you can click on the photo and zoom in, you will see that those brown bits are insects. I had thought they were aphids, but they have wings and look, in form, kind of like plant hoppers. I've sent photos to BugGuide to see if anyone there knows what they are. Will keep you posted.
The final flower of my walk was common burdock (Arctium minus), complete with bumblebee.
The final flower of my walk was common burdock (Arctium minus), complete with bumblebee.
A lovely plant and supposedly the inspiration for velcro, burdock is a non-native that has made itself quite at home. Known medicially as a great blood purifier, its roots are harvested in the fall and can be easily made into a tincture.
And now I'm back in the office and will soon need to take my turn at the front desk. The clouds are starting to roll in - rain is in the forecast. I shall do a little rain dance and see if that helps.
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
Monarch Mayhem
As per my usual routine, when I got home from work yesterday, I let the dog out into the yard to romp and pee. I strolled along after him, taking a look at the flower gardens (sigh - they need a LOT of work), when I saw the weeniest little monarch caterpillar. Had to rush inside for the camera.
It may have been small, but its appetite was large, for it was tackling a whole butterflyweed pod all on its own.
Nearby, on another branch of the plant, was an older sibling. It was happily munching away on its own pod.
But look at those pouches. These are what develops after fertilization. My friend Jackie says they remind her of tobacco pouches. I just wrote about Indian Tobacco for the Adirondack Almanack, so you can read about it here if you are interested in learning more about this lovely little lobelia.
It may have been small, but its appetite was large, for it was tackling a whole butterflyweed pod all on its own.
Nearby, on another branch of the plant, was an older sibling. It was happily munching away on its own pod.
Its antennae were waving about as it chewed away. I tried to capture it on the video setting. Take your Dramamine before viewing.
As I continued my perusal of the beds, I found two more monarch caterpillars. This brings the month's total to about a half dozen...and that's just with casual glances at the butterflyweeds.
Butterflyweed (Asclepias turberosa), by the way, is a member of the milkweed clan, which is why monarchs lay their eggs on it and their larvae eat it. I only have one genuine milkweed plant in my yard - in my onion patch. It's not for lack of trying, though - I've been trying for years to establish milkweed, but with no success.
I did have some narrow leaf milkweed (A. fascicularis) in the gardens, but most of it has been pushed out by the aggressive lupines and beebalm. The first couple of years this milkweed was in the garden, though, the monarchs made use of it, too. I'll take a look for it tonight when I get home.
I also noticed a robust Indian Tobacco plant (Lobelia inflata) growing at the base of one of my dogwoods. Hurrah! The last time I saw this plant and photographed it, it disappeared before I could take a good long look at it. So, was delighted to find it here. As you can see, the flowers are quite small.
But look at those pouches. These are what develops after fertilization. My friend Jackie says they remind her of tobacco pouches. I just wrote about Indian Tobacco for the Adirondack Almanack, so you can read about it here if you are interested in learning more about this lovely little lobelia.
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
Another Evening Stroll
It's been a while since I've taken my camera for a walk here at home, so yesterday evening I put the leash around the dog's neck, the camera around my neck, and off we went.
With the summer drawing to a close, more rapidly than I expected, I didn't expect to find too much to photograph. But, the sun was at that lovely evening angle, so even things I'd already photographed might still make for some good shots.
Viper's bugloss is still, amazingly, blooming. The flowers are not as robust as they were earlier, but, the blue-pink color remains pleasaing to the eye.
'Tis the season for pearly everlasting (Anaphalis margaritacea). (I hate photographing white subjects - they are always washed out! The strong wind didn't help any, either.)
Up close, these flowers look a lot like strawflowers, those perennial favorites of dried flower arrangements. Perhaps this is why they are called everlasting? I'll do some research into this and will write it up for tomorrow's Adirondack Almanack article.
I was delighted to find sneezeweed (Helenium nudiflorum) along the roadside. It turns out that there are several species of sneezeweed, and this one, the purple-headed, stands out from the rest of crowd because the center of the flower is brown (the books say "purple," but don't you believe it).
Way back when I started off in my career as an interpretive naturalist, I was told that sneezeweed got its name because it looked like someone had sneezed on it, blowing the petals backwards. Works for me. But recently I read that the leaves used to be used for snuff. It turns out that a different sneezeweed (H. autumnale) was indeed used to induce sneezing - both the dried leaves as well as the dried flowers. This is recorded in Moerman's Native American Ethnobotay. I like the earlier explanation - it has a feel of whimsy to it. 
The cherries have ripened and by now have mostly been consumed by assorted birds and mammals. Next on the list are the dogwoods. Here we have some dogwood berries all nice and plump but not yet ripe.
With the summer drawing to a close, more rapidly than I expected, I didn't expect to find too much to photograph. But, the sun was at that lovely evening angle, so even things I'd already photographed might still make for some good shots.
Viper's bugloss is still, amazingly, blooming. The flowers are not as robust as they were earlier, but, the blue-pink color remains pleasaing to the eye.
'Tis the season for pearly everlasting (Anaphalis margaritacea). (I hate photographing white subjects - they are always washed out! The strong wind didn't help any, either.)
Up close, these flowers look a lot like strawflowers, those perennial favorites of dried flower arrangements. Perhaps this is why they are called everlasting? I'll do some research into this and will write it up for tomorrow's Adirondack Almanack article.
I was delighted to find sneezeweed (Helenium nudiflorum) along the roadside. It turns out that there are several species of sneezeweed, and this one, the purple-headed, stands out from the rest of crowd because the center of the flower is brown (the books say "purple," but don't you believe it).
Way back when I started off in my career as an interpretive naturalist, I was told that sneezeweed got its name because it looked like someone had sneezed on it, blowing the petals backwards. Works for me. But recently I read that the leaves used to be used for snuff. It turns out that a different sneezeweed (H. autumnale) was indeed used to induce sneezing - both the dried leaves as well as the dried flowers. This is recorded in Moerman's Native American Ethnobotay. I like the earlier explanation - it has a feel of whimsy to it.
Sneezeweed, it seems, is actually a rather toxic plant - especially to herbivorous mammals, like cattle and such. Not a plant to have in one's pastures. Still, sneezeweeds are native wildflowers (hurrah), although the purple-headed sneezeweed righfully belongs in the southeastern United States.
The cherries have ripened and by now have mostly been consumed by assorted birds and mammals. Next on the list are the dogwoods. Here we have some dogwood berries all nice and plump but not yet ripe.
I was hoping to photograph some bunchberry fruits, too, but it seems that the critters have also eaten these, for I could not find a one during last night's walk.
More rain is predicted, so it may be another while before the camera goes for a walk again. Maybe I can sneak out on the trails at work - the baneberry plants are loaded with their doll's eyes fruit - always fun to photograph.
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