What's in the Air?

Certain types of weather and scenes outside my window are like an open invitation to take a stroll down memory lane. Today it was the bright blue sky, cool breeze filtering through the apartment windows, the bright green leaves dappled by the sun's rays, and the comfort of looking out my window at the idyllic images and knowing it was the weekend. Whatever was in the air today, like certain other days, summoned a nostalgia and remembrance of things past. I'm still not sure why this happens every once in awhile, but it usually has to do with clear days, a certain type of crisp, fresh air, and looking out the window.

Lazy Last Days of Summer

One of my favorite seasonal transitions is the gradual shift from summer to autumn, from the lazy, lingering warmth to crisp, cool weather partnered with an array of bright colors. The close of summer is reminiscent of the final nail in the coffin of vacation, even as one grows older and is no longer in school. The last few days of summer almost resemble a call for sloth and lassitude--enjoyment of slow activity, quiet moments, and ignoring of "To Do" lists.

After hibernating in air-conditioned quarters for what seems like an eternity but which in reality is only a summer, autumn's refreshing mixture of warmth and chill is welcome and strangely both soothing and invigorating. One can comfortably wander outdoors with arms covered or bare and marvel at Nature's art show on display and crunchy, crackly auditory accompaniments. Sandwiched between two seasons of extreme temperatures, autumn carries with it an inexplicable energy and mystique equaled by no other time of year.

Musings and "Little Things" from the Beach

Things I could do without when at the beach:

SUVs and trucks barreling down the beach. Family drama. Being woken up at 7 AM by chattering and shrieking after going to sleep at 12 or 1 AM. Immaturity. Sand in my sandals, in my clothes, in the house, and pretty much everywhere else. Bugs everywhere, especially in the pool. Fishing, even if it was catch-and-release.

Little (and not so little) things I enjoyed during our trip to the beach:

Watching sand pipers scuttle away from the water. Iridescent sea foam shimmering in the sunlight. The constant murmurings of the sea. Feeling the power of the ocean and its currents which pulled us away from where we were standing. Thunderstorms at night. Family games, like "Loaded Question" and movie trivia. Messages in the sand, and mussing them up. Mouth-watering meals, including gazpacho, varied salads, exotic rice and beans, baked potatoes, and savory marinated portobello mushrooms (and did I mention gooey brownies, fresh fruit, rich cakes, ice cream sundaes, platters of cookies, and cream puffs with chocolate sauce and raspberries). Watching The Daily Show with uncles and aunts. Photography. A sweet doggy companion named Jojo. Windblown dunes. Wild horses an arm's length away. Conversations and laughter with family not seen in years. Breathtaking sunsets filled with pinks, oranges, blues, and a perfectly spherical, dazzling crimson sun descending upon the horizon. Walks on the beach with my other half. Rich glasses of wine. Heart-to-hearts. Lots of love.

Odd

This may be a bit gross but I will proceed anyway: Today I examined a piece of my own skin that was peeling on my foot. After I removed it, I noticed just how intricate and strange it was. It was tough and had a funny texture, like thin plastic. It was slightly transparent, like slightly opaqued plastic wrap. The intricate lines that ran across the flap of skin were beautiful to behold and reminiscent of a fingerprint crossed with the veins of a leaf, giving the skin a manufactured and artistic look nothing akin to its natural origin. What was impressive still was the completely brand new skin that had formed to replace the old skin, serving as a reminder that the body is constantly changing, even if the naked eye doesn't always perceive the alterations and even if we feel that we're still "the same person." Funny how gross little tangents can remind us of bigger and lofty principles. :)

The Best Part of June 22, 2010

The evening sky. I don't know what it was like in other parts of the country/world, but from where I was sitting, it was exquisite--like something out of National Geographic or a photoshopped piece of graphic design found on the Internet. The utter beauty of the sunset was not only created by the typical orange, pink, soft yellow, and deep blue and purple shades. The clouds played a huge role in the evening's splendor. There must have been storm clouds passing through, because there were huge dark blueish-purple clouds traveling, shifting, and oozing across the sky at a brisk pace. It was impossible to fix my gaze on a given cloud shape because they transmogrified at every moment. At the same time, the sun was setting and the sky was illuminated with colors of peach, cotton candy pink, and hints of yellow. As the clouds changed form constantly, they seemed superimposed upon the bright colors. Sometimes the cloud formations would let patches of the colorful sky peek through; in other places, there were hardly any clouds to be seen, only playfully intermingled colors.

And the grand finale? As I stared out of my window and craned my neck to look all the way to the right and down the block, I saw the brightest moon appear surrounded by one of the most beautiful shades of blue I've ever seen the sky embody. I can't even describe that particular shade of blue--it wasn't deep, nor was it clear. It wasn't sky blue nor the darker shade of evening sky that one is accustomed to seeing when the moon and stars first make their evening appearance. It must have been close to a cerulean color. It was a rich blue, yet still light enough to seem like daytime. It made the moon seem out of place, like a traveling stranger in a foreign town, and yet the sky's hue complemented the moon's every facet, crater, and glowing magical light emanating from it. What I saw last night was enough to confirm that the sky is truly one of the most amazing things on this planet, and it never ceases to fill me with awe, wonder, and, peace.

Hayward Up to Bat, Strikes Out

Just saw a clip of Tony "Fat Tony" Hayward of BP receiving a grilling from Congress. His apology was about as dry and unconvincing as you can get. Hel-LO! You're heading up "Satan's Little Helpers 'R Us Oil Inc." and you can't even muster up even a tad of remorse? In case you haven't noticed, you've graced America's and most of the world's shit list, and you still can't even make an honest attempt at earning a few brownie points? Wow. When he wasn't dishing out hollow apologies, Hayward occupied himself with dodging questions, claiming ignorance, and asserting that he's" not an engineer." Hey buddy, don't take my word for it, but you might want to start looking into that since a career switch may be in order soon...

Not to be outdone, Rep. Joe Barton, a Republican from Texas (I'm sure you can guess what's coming next) actually had the gall to apologize to Hayward for the "shakedown" conducted by the White House and Congress over this ecological disaster. There's nothing like bipartisan cooperation and crossing over of party lines, this time to take Barton to task--so much so that he was obliged to apologize for his apology and retract it altogether. Well done!

If there's one thing Congress is good at, it's a good grillfest. Now let's see what comes of it and the $20 billion allocated towards righting the terrible environmental wrong that has occurred.

A short passage and quotes from a BBC article which highlight what many are probably thinking:

"Texan Republican Michael Burgess expressed surprise when the BP chief said he had not known anything about the well in question until he was told in April that drilling had confirmed an oil discovery.

'But you're the CEO of the company,' Congressman Burgess said.

'With due respect,' Mr Hayward replied, 'we drill hundreds of wells around the world.'

'Yeah, that's what scares me right now,' said Mr Burgess"

This would be LOL-worthy if the whole thing weren't so horrible.

Read the entire BBC article

It Must Be Global Warming

It's hard not to notice the completely erratic DC weather this year. First come the immense snow storms (immense for this area of the country at least). Then the odd "Indian summer" days appear towards the second half of a frigid winter. Was it just me or did spring not even make it onto the scene this year? Then the delirium-provoking heat and humidity arrived (even more so when you walk to work in slacks) in the final days of May and first week of June. I was just setting my jaw and getting ready to grin and bear the swampy sweltering mess that is summer in DC. Imagine my surprise when I traipsed outside in my flouncy black skirt to go to work, prepared to get knocked over by a humid heat wave, when lo and behold I had goosebumps while walking in the shade because the temperature was back in the 60's. Now I'm no meteorologist or climatologist, but something fishy's going on here! Apart from the importance of avoiding a global climate disaster, I'd like to know from time to time what in blazes I should be wearing to venture outside. I guess I'll just have to stick to Weather.com, which tells me it's "partly cloudy" when in fact it's thunderstorming outside...

Talk About Putting a Positive Spin on Things

A recent quote from BP CEO Tony Hayward, who must be wearing very intensely rose-colored glasses:

"We're going to clean up the oil, we're going to remediate any environmental damage and we are going to return the Gulf coast to the position it was in prior to this event. That's an absolute commitment, we will be there long after the media has gone, making good on our promises."

1.) Maybe Tony will let me wave his magic wand and see if the Amazon rainforest restores itself to its former glory.

2.) "...we are going to return the Gulf coast to the position it was in prior to this event." Does that include resuscitating the thousands of animals killed as a result of this absolute catastrophe? Does that also include providing financial compensation to the families whose livelihoods will now be in jeopardy?

3.) It's not hard to spot PR language a mile away. It looks like it'll take more than a British accent to get people excited about what Mr. Hayward has to say.

Petrol-basted mahi-mahi, anyone?

Pobre Polar Bears

A headline in the BBC caught my attention today: "Polar bears face 'tipping point' due to climate change." In other words, polar bears may be on the slight or not so slight decline right now, but when global warming hits a particular threshold potentially in the very near future, conditions would be so adverse so suddenly that polar bears wouldn't stand a chance for survival.

Perhaps it's because I was given one of those stuffed Gund polar bears when I was an infant, something I have and hold dear to this day, but I've always been especially fond of polar bears. It's truly heartbreaking to read that sometime in the near future, they could cease to exist. What's worse is that this is becoming the rule nowadays for many species, rather than the exception. Al Gore may have brought some nationwide attention to the plight of polar bears, but there's still much to be done. A troubling excerpt from the article:

"Canada has about two-thirds of the world's polar bears, but their conservation assessment of polar bears didn't take climate change seriously," says Dr Molnar, a flaw noted by the IUCN/SSC Polar Bear Specialist Group last year. "Our view is that the Canadian assessment should be redone, properly accounting for climate change effects.

"The status of polar bears is likely much more dire than suggested by the Canadian report," he adds. "For instance, for a while we will only see small changes in summer fasting season survival in Western Hudson Bay. [But] eventually mortality will dramatically increase when a certain threshold is passed; for example, while starvation mortality is currently negligible, up to one-half of the male population would starve if the fasting season in Western Hudson Bay was extended from currently four to about six months."

I'm glad I read this article, because the first step towards change is awareness.

Oil Here, Oil There, Oil Everywhere

After reading the initial reports on the recent oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico, now all I can bear is a brief glance at the headlines, if that. To say that this latest leakage of oil into the ocean waters is a catastrophe would be an understatement. I can't even bear to think what kind of disastrous effect this will have on the marine life and the entire ecosystem in the Gulf, and that's not even taking into account the livelihoods that are in jeopardy in Louisiana and elsewhere.

Will someone be held accountable for this event? I certainly hope so. But a better question is whether this oil spill could have been avoided. I should think so. Not only is BP responsible for this absolute environmental mess, but I would also ask what you've done to lower your dependence on oil.

While big companies must take the fall for these blows to the environment and by extension to ourselves, what's just as important is for every individual to scrutinize his or her own habits and become aware of how our choices and actions affect the place we call home. For example, why not make more of an effort with recycling? Why not leave the car at home whenever possible? Why not start composting? Why not take care in what animal products you buy and what the practices are of the companies you support? Why not take an interest in the conservation and "green" movement that's sweeping across many countries, but perhaps not quickly enough? Finally, why leave it up to big oil companies to make the decisions about the fate of the planet? We need to wake up and make those decisions ourselves. Ultimately the planet's best interests are our best interests.

More Little Things

As I was sitting in the zebra-print chair in our guest room, I thought of a few more "little things" that make me feel happy:

-The way the bright afternoon sun filters through the vibrant green leaves of the tree behind our house, creating a dappled effect that dances around the room as the breeze whispers through the branches.

-Playing hide and seek/tag with our cat, Penny.

-Penny's purr, one of the most relaxing sounds I know.

-Going grocery shopping and picking out our favorite things to eat.

-Sleeping with my feet sticking out from under the sheets.

-When I'm more in tune with my surroundings, looking at and appreciating trees, their beauty and their many functions.

Mr. and Mrs. Squirrel

We have a little family of squirrels that live in the tree in front of our apartment. Sometimes we see their little heads pop out of the hole that is their house. We still can't figure out whether it's just a squirrel couple or if they have any offspring tearing around the hole yet.

Yesterday we saw the two adults fully dedicated to the task of biting off tiny branches and carrying the bright green leaves back to the homestead. We speculated about the purpose of this endeavor. Was it to store the leaves in their home to have a moist, comfortable place to live next winter? Were they doing some interior decorating? Are they readying their home for the coming of Baby Squirrel? Perhaps they're leaf collectors, or even hoarders! Maybe their landlord The Tree has done them wrong and they're stickin' it to The Man, one itty bitty branch at a time.

Whatever they were doing, they only paused every so often to vigilantly watch the dogs passing by underneath them. Oh, to have that kind of work ethic...

Rainy days

Rainy days: love 'em or hate 'em? I hear a lot of people complain about them so it got me to wondering... Upon further reflection, I realized I have a sort of love-dissatisfaction relationship with rain (hate is such a strong word, and it certainly doesn't adequately describe how I feel about rain anyway).

Let's start with the bad: getting soaked on the walk to work. Going out in windy rainstorms that contort and wrench your umbrella until finally blowing it inside-out. Forgetting your umbrella at home. Thunder that cracks so loud your heart jumps into your throat or stops altogether for a beat or two. Dangerous driving conditions and subsequent accidents. Thoroughly drenched sneakers that slosh around with water and turn toes pruney. Icky earthworms unceremoniously unearthed. Being ungraciously splashed by cars when standing too close to the street. Lightning that strikes a bit too close for comfort. The awful number the 100% humidity does on wavy/curly hair.

Now for the good: a day of rest from blinding sunshine and stifling heat. Ethereal lightning bolts like a split-second message from the sky. The soothing soporific gray cloud cover and the absolutely exquisite sound of the rain, whether pitterpattering or pounding down. The slick shiny pavement, and kids playing in puddles (maybe even a few adults, too). Lush plants, viridian grass, satisfied flowers and contented trees. Deep booming thunder like a happy giant's laugh. Beads of water on leaves and streaks like small streams running down windowpanes. Participating in an almost timeless and essential transformation of terrestrial elements--without even having to lift a finger.

Rainy days: love 'em or hate 'em? Whatever your response, one thing's for sure: we wouldn't be around for very long without them.

It's All in the Eyes

For some reason I've always been surrounded by people with gorgeous eyes. An ex of mine had green eyes with flecks of red, something I have yet to see replicated on any other person. Even though when I was little I viewed my mom's eyes as something akin to "mud puddles," as I matured I came to realize that she has what I like to call "tiger eyes": light brown with slight yellow-topaz streaks, lending her gaze a bit of a feline quality. My dad, on the other hand, has deep forest green eyes--they remind me of what pastures in Ireland must look like. And probably the first thing I noticed about my husband was his eyes as well (I'm undoubtedly not alone in this category--I've read that many people notice this feature first in prospective boyfriends or girlfriends). He has deep blue eyes with a ring of brown around the pupil, which particularly stands out against his tan skin and black hair (lucky dog!). Even my cat, Penny, has an intriguing set of irises, sometimes almost overtaken by huge black pupils when she's "hunting" something (most likely my ankles), other times sparkly gold in the sunlight, her pupils barely visible.

My train of thought turned to eyes today as I recalled a magnetic pair I saw yesterday. They belonged to an inhabitant of the local Petsmart a few blocks away from our apartment. As we were examining the different pets on display--the hamsters, exotic birds, and beta fish--my own eyes were arrested by a bewitching set of peepers. They belonged to a whitish-peach gecko in a glass terrarium. It had started to crawl under a branch in its cage and there it crouched for some minutes while I watched it, transfixed. We both just stood there, immobile. If I was a cartoon character, I would have had those typical swirly spirals spinning in my head instead of eyes, and looking at that gecko I understood why people may have believed at one time that reptiles could hypnotize a person (a la "Jungle Book"). The gecko's pupils were but a mere slit of black, and around them danced an iridescent collage of sparkling green and gold, like dichroic glass jewelry found at an open marketplace. The iris' colors appeared to ooze and mix as if liquid mercury, as if constantly shifting with smooth ease.

My husband finally broke the spell, asking me, "What are you looking at?" With a little shake of my head I came back to reality, even though I had only been "mesmerized" for no more than a minute. After seeing the beady black eyes of the colorful birds not a moment before, like tiny black holes in space absorbing all the movements and information around them, I decided that no set of eyes is superior. All eyes are "windows into the soul," as is so often quoted. But those gecko eyes, I had to admit, were a work of art.