I still feel taken aback when I read of another patch of greenery, well-known over the past few years of Field Notes, (ie 'the deserted traffic island I used to explore') that has succumbed to the concrete. That's how I felt when I read A Natural History of Empty Lots: of course I knew they were eyeing the area to "develop" but I had kept the reality of it at bay... so it's revitalising to see the flowers coming back, again.
Thanks so much—I'm happy to hear that the of notes over the years have accreted into a coherent narrative of sorts for longtime readers. I fear there's a lot more coming in this corridor; we are working to protect as much green space and urban/exurban habitat as we can.
Enjoyed this post. Now I know why the pink puff sensitive plant on the side of the house is growing there...it is under an outside hose faucet.
And thank you for the short clip of the Colorado river on the east side...I had not seen any footage of the river on the local t.v. channels and was wondering what it was doing after all this rain.
I’ll always pay attention to nature’s little details more intently after reading your Fieldnotes. Curious what will sprout from all the water and tragedy in the Hill Country?
Thanks, Tom. Among other things, I think it's a bracing wake-up call for Texans who have embraced a hyper-libertarian attitude about public institutions, and may be reminded of how they also are (or can be) expressions of community and our capacity to help each other.
"The resilience of those species always makes me think how easy it would be to help bring some of that biodiversity back with just a little bit of stewardship, and how we would find that repairing our damaged relationship with the land would help us remedy some of the broken things in the human community."
--Thank you, I'm going to carry this with me for a bit. "Just a little bit of stewardship": that's *doable*.
I just got home from an epic roadtrip from Michigan to Alaska and back. On the way back I stopped at Cahokia Mounds in Illinois along the Mississippi. In the late 70s/early 80s I did some archaeological survey as part of the environmental impact statement relating to Federal road building in that area. Last week I spent the night in a hotel where only cornfields were back then. It gave me pause. If I hadn’t had a deadline to get my travel companion home to Kentucky in time for fireworks, I’d have driven over to the limestone bluffs where I did most of my work at the time. There was a wildness where the bluffs butted up against the county roads and the cornfields beyond that made that area one of my favorite places to survey.
With regard to Jefferson Airplane, I remember the “k”. In my head, that’s how I’ve always spelled it. I wonder when it got changed.
I still feel taken aback when I read of another patch of greenery, well-known over the past few years of Field Notes, (ie 'the deserted traffic island I used to explore') that has succumbed to the concrete. That's how I felt when I read A Natural History of Empty Lots: of course I knew they were eyeing the area to "develop" but I had kept the reality of it at bay... so it's revitalising to see the flowers coming back, again.
Thanks so much—I'm happy to hear that the of notes over the years have accreted into a coherent narrative of sorts for longtime readers. I fear there's a lot more coming in this corridor; we are working to protect as much green space and urban/exurban habitat as we can.
Enjoyed this post. Now I know why the pink puff sensitive plant on the side of the house is growing there...it is under an outside hose faucet.
And thank you for the short clip of the Colorado river on the east side...I had not seen any footage of the river on the local t.v. channels and was wondering what it was doing after all this rain.
Thanks! The Colorado was really only above its banks for a few hours, and right at floodstage.
I’ll always pay attention to nature’s little details more intently after reading your Fieldnotes. Curious what will sprout from all the water and tragedy in the Hill Country?
Thanks, Tom. Among other things, I think it's a bracing wake-up call for Texans who have embraced a hyper-libertarian attitude about public institutions, and may be reminded of how they also are (or can be) expressions of community and our capacity to help each other.
"The resilience of those species always makes me think how easy it would be to help bring some of that biodiversity back with just a little bit of stewardship, and how we would find that repairing our damaged relationship with the land would help us remedy some of the broken things in the human community."
--Thank you, I'm going to carry this with me for a bit. "Just a little bit of stewardship": that's *doable*.
Part of the trick is helping people see how fun and personally rewarding that undertaking can be 🌻
Thanks Chris, another great read and I'm glad you and yours are safe.
Thanks, Adam!
I just got home from an epic roadtrip from Michigan to Alaska and back. On the way back I stopped at Cahokia Mounds in Illinois along the Mississippi. In the late 70s/early 80s I did some archaeological survey as part of the environmental impact statement relating to Federal road building in that area. Last week I spent the night in a hotel where only cornfields were back then. It gave me pause. If I hadn’t had a deadline to get my travel companion home to Kentucky in time for fireworks, I’d have driven over to the limestone bluffs where I did most of my work at the time. There was a wildness where the bluffs butted up against the county roads and the cornfields beyond that made that area one of my favorite places to survey.
With regard to Jefferson Airplane, I remember the “k”. In my head, that’s how I’ve always spelled it. I wonder when it got changed.