After a slow first five months, I'm back to blogging in earnest. In the forthcoming few months I plan to keep on tracking the blooming of wildflowers, the activities of bugs and reptiles and any other critters I'm quick enough or lucky enough to photograph, and to comment on ecological relationships. Since there is an increasing sense of ecological crisis among many people and more vigorous denial of such on the part of others, I will inevitably comment on the social and political dimensions of survival as I see them.
I am still an adjunct instructor in the English Department at Feather River College, but time permitting, I am available for hire as a nature guide in the region in and around Plumas County. A brochure describing my usual kinds of natural history adventures is in development. Email me c/o firstname.lastname@example.org with your mailing address and a statement of interests, and I'll send you a rough draft.
I have been teaching since 1965 and have recently joined the English Department as an Associate Faculty member at Feather River College. Recently taught Nature Literature in America and am currently teaching Interpersonal Communication and Basic Reading and Writing.
Sights on the way to work included lots of yellow flowers blooming. The Gum Plants (above) along the highway look especially hardy these days while most species of wildflowers have dried up and gone to seed. I've always found it interesting how the August wildflowers are mostly yellow. My observations account for a very small sample. Has anyone from other ares noticed this?
Another local species that thrives in late summer as well as playing host to interesting bugs is the non-native Tansy. This one had a crab spider visitor, but now the stretch of road where I took this photo has been visited by the rather aggressive road department weed eater. What remains is an ugly stretch of splintered wooden stems and fragmented foliage. At least now it's all exactly the same height. Like a lawn of sorts. Or a large sweat shop.
"I am struck once again by the unutterable beauty, terror and strangeness of everything we think we know." A gem from Ed Abbey passed along by a friend.