Traditional Iconoclast

Worst. Tree. Ever.

Posted on 19 April 2018 by Isabel Gibson

Early spring in Myrtle Beach showcases white flowering trees: Bradford Pears, I am reliably informed. I’m pretty sure I’ve never seen an ornamental pear before. How delightful.

Or maybe not.

In an understated way, Wikipedia offers the first hint of trouble:

The initially neat, dense upward growth of ‘Bradford’ — which made it desirable in cramped urban spaces — also results in a multitude of narrow, weak forks, unless corrected by selective pruning at an early stage. These weak crotches make the tree very susceptible to storm damage. Because of this, and the resulting relatively short life span (typically less than 25 years), many groups have discouraged further planting of ‘Bradford’ (Ed.’s note: bolding added) and other similarly structurally deficient Callery pear cultivars (such other as ‘Cleveland Select’) in favour of increasing use of locally native ornamental tree species.

Methinks that “many groups have discouraged further planting of Bradford” doesn’t quite capture the tone of the deep-seated antipathy towards the Bradford Pear:

If it’s blooming white right now, it’s a curse. This dictum especially applies to that “charming” Bradford pear your dimwitted landscaper planted in the middle of your front yard. – The Curse of the Bradford Pear

Go cut down any Bradford Pear Trees you have right now and never plant another one! – The Bizarre Reason to Cut Down Your Bradford Pear Tree

. . . this stinky, oversized tree is not worth the hassle. From its overabundance of shade to weak branching structure, Bradford pears are the worst trees out there. – Why Bradford pears are the worst tree

Today, the Bradford pear may be the most despised tree in this part of the world. Its wood splits easily, making extra work for utility and public works crews. Its offspring pop up unbidden in forests and parks. Its blossoms are fragrant — but not in a good way. Comparisons to semen and rotting flesh are common. – The Ups and Downs of the Bradford Pear

So there you have it: Worst. Tree. Ever. I will never look at rows of white flowering trees quite the same way again.

Posted in Laughing Frequently, New Perspectives, Photos of Flora | Tagged Trees | 6 Comments

Mid-Week Movie #19: Why Visit Utah?

Posted on 18 April 2018 by Isabel Gibson

This is a true story.

Posted in Appreciating Deeply, Laughing Frequently, Travel Videos | Tagged Conversations, Terra Firma, Travel | 10 Comments

Personality Plus

Posted on 17 April 2018 by Isabel Gibson

When I can’t take any more photos of roseate spoonbills, great egrets, and wood storks – when I have so many shots that I can hardly sort through them – then, and only then, it’s time to wander around the St. Augustine Alligator Farm looking for other photographic subjects.

While I understand that anthropomorphism – attributing human characteristics to a god, animal, or object – is not regarded as the height of critical thinking, how can anyone deny the obvious personalities in these guys?

Predatory yet Patient

Pensive

Pissed-Off, Perhaps Permanently

Posted in Laughing Frequently, Photos of Fauna | Tagged Birds, Reptiles | 4 Comments

Weak or Strong

Posted on 16 April 2018 by Isabel Gibson

Forget my childhood and perhaps childish focus on right and wrong. Today (as in, today) and today (as in, these days), it’s all about weak and strong.

I’ve already expressed my frustration with my memory when it comes to passwords, and with the totally totally unhuman standards that must be met to create a strong one.

And I’ve long since gotten used to sites providing zippy feedback on how good my proposed password is, gradually morphing from “weak” to “strong” as I tip-tap away. (Hope springs eternal that I will someday evoke a “wow.”)

Recently, however, I was surprised, offended, almost hurt by one site’s response. I mean, I hadn’t even started. Guys: Give me a chance here.

As hard as it is to be judged on my performance, how much harder to be judged pre-performance. If that were the norm in parenting, think of the probable effects on family cohesion. In supervision, think of the implications for employee morale.

Boss: You haven’t cleaned that kitchen properly.
Worker: I just got here. I haven’t even started!
Boss: That’s no excuse. It’s still a pitiful job.

No, we must take a stand now before this rush-to-judgement malaise spreads. As far-fetched as it seems, if we let this slide we might soon be unable to hold civil conversations on contentious topics. We might stop asking someone what they meant by something that sounds offensive, before we start attacking their character. We might forget that public figures are fallible human beings who occasionally need to be excused for saying or doing something silly.

And these would be weaknesses for which the fix would be much tougher than just adding an uppercase letter to a pathetic password.

Posted in Laughing Frequently, Management and Work, Relationships and Behaviour, Thinking Broadly, Wired | Tagged Miscellany | 6 Comments

Right or Wrong

Posted on 15 April 2018 by Isabel Gibson

There are 100 ways to see Mount Fuji and,
as Hokusai showed us,
all of them are right.
– Jen Wolling’s reflection; from “Earth,” by David Brin

This sentence caught my attention on my recent rereading of this sci-fi novel. Maybe there are 100 ways to read Earth, as well.

I was vaguely familiar with Hokusai — emphasis on the vague — although I did recognize his most famous print: the variously translated The Great Wave off Kanagawa. But even a quick review taught me things about this iconic Japanese artist, and not just when he lived (1760 – 1849).

The first was the meaning of his work on Mt. Fuji.

Thus from an early time, Mt. Fuji was seen as the source of the secret of immortality, a tradition that was at the heart of Hokusai’s own obsession with the mountain. – Henry Smith

The second was the variety of this work. His prints show Fuji in all weather conditions and at all times of day. They show Fuji from all possible standing places and maybe from some standing places that are possible only in the artist’s imagination. In some prints, Mt. Fuji is almost all you see; in others, it almost disappears in the distance. In one, at least, it doesn’t seem to appear at all: This is the view of the mountain when climbing the mountain.

I don’t think I have an obsession in my life equivalent to Hokusai’s obsession with Mt. Fuji and with immortality. I do know that after reading about his work, I feel better about taking so many pictures of so many bridges, birds, reflections, and yes, sometimes more than one picture of the same mountain, as in these of Uluru, posted earlier.

When 100 views of one mountain are all “right,” it’s not about right and wrong any more. Maybe it never was. It is, however, about seeing, and in as many ways as possible.

Posted in New Perspectives, Thinking Broadly | Tagged Artists, Culture, Mountains | 11 Comments

Signs, Surfside Beach SC

Posted on 11 April 2018 by Isabel Gibson

Around the corner and just up the street from The Pier sits the Bar & Grill. Its neon signs winked at me once too often in the early morning, so one day, I stopped.

The open door suggests that the sign does not lie: The bar really *is* open, even though it’s before my breakfast time.

This panoply of lights got me to wondering about neon lights and Wikipedia offers more than I ever wanted to know; to wit . . .

The intensity of neon light produced increases as the tube diameter grows smaller,
that is, the intensity varies inversely with the square root of the interior diameter of the tubing,
and the resistance of the tube increases as the tubing diameter decreases accordingly,
because tube ionization is greatest at the center of the tube,
and the ions migrate to and are recaptured and neutralized at the tube walls.

Anything that includes phrases like “varies inversely with the square root of the interior diameter” is generally a level down from where I live. OK, maybe more than one level. But it was interesting to learn that the colours are produced by the different gases used as well as the different phosphorescent coatings on the inside of the glass tube.

For anyone who likes this sort of thing, I recommend also the Timeline of Lighting Technology, where a quick perusal (trust me, a very quick perusal) suggests that there were few advances in lighting technology from the 3rd century BC to the 17th century AD.

For those who associate neon lights with their most famous incarnation – Broadway and Times Square – I offer this odd video of Rhinestone Cowboy. I mean, why is Glen walking along a tree-lined highway instead of the sidewalks of Broadway in the opening stanza? Other than, you know, production costs and his personal safety, since I understand Times Square was a no-go zone at about the time the video was made.

Posted in Appreciating Deeply, Laughing Frequently, Photos of Built Stuff | Tagged Buildings, Technology | 2 Comments

Miscellany, Brookgreen Gardens

Posted on 10 April 2018 by Isabel Gibson

So. What does Brookgreen Gardens offer other than blurry bluebirds? I’m glad you asked.

Their website breaks out four categories . . .

Botanical Gardens

It turns out that March is not the best time of the year to appreciate the botanical nature of the gardens. Come back in April, they advised, when the azaleas are blooming and the butterfly exhibit is open. However, we did see one lovely redbud in bloom.

American Sculpture

Here we were on better footing. The sculptures hang out all year.

Low-Country History

A 45-minute cruise along an old canal and two streams gave the narrator time to talk about the area’s history — plantations, slavery, and rice growing — as well as an opportunity to prove that the signs don’t lie. I saw the gators for myself, and am willing to take their word for it on the snakes.

Low-Country Zoo

Taking photos in zoos seems to me to be cheating, but I’d never been this close to an active black-crowned night heron so I couldn’t resist.

Uncategorized

As always, the unplanned or unexpected elements can be as important as the main attractions.

I added to my small collection of arch photographs.

I witnessed camouflage in action, when my co-visitor asked a few times what I was taking a picture of. The answer? A very still and nearly invisible squirrel.

And I watched a tufted titmouse (I think) try to figure out what to do with the feeder.

Tufted titmouse hanging upside down on feeder

Is this way up?

Tufted titmouse, hanging onto bottom of feeder

Is there supposed to be food here somewhere?

Posted in Appreciating Deeply, Laughing Frequently, Photos of Built Stuff, Photos of Fauna | Tagged Birds, Buildings, Trees | 2 Comments

Eastern Bluebird, Brookgreen Gardens SC

Posted on 09 April 2018 by Isabel Gibson

A flash of bright blue claims my attention, even though I know I’m not supposed to use colour as my first identifier for birds. Something about it varying too much through the year (or by age or gender) to be a reliable identifier. But how can I not notice this blue? Wow.

Another question would be why I don’t get a sharp photo of this flittable bird, and the answers are these:

Having gone to photograph sculptures and flowers, I don’t have the right lens with me nor am I ready with the right settings even with a sub-optimal lens
Having gone to explore the entire garden, I don’t have time to wait for the other chance or, umm, 20 that it would likely take

So when it momentarily does stop flitting, I settle for an identification shot of what is a life bird for me.

Until last month, I’d never seen any of the three North American species of bluebirds: Eastern bluebird, Western bluebird, Mountain bluebird. Now, of course, I want to see them all, and in better conditions, with the right lens and the right camera settings.

In the meantime, to celebrate this versatile and oh-so-blue bird, here are a few bluebird-ish songs in a variety of genres.

Kris Kristofferson & Rita Coolidge

Posted in Appreciating Deeply, Photos of Fauna | Tagged Birds | 7 Comments

Strangely Quiet

Posted on 08 April 2018 by Isabel Gibson

My mother has been on my mind a lot lately.

Since she died last June, I find it’s been sorta up-and-down: Some weeks I think of her a lot; others, not so much. In truth, I expected that. What’s surprised me isn’t the variability in frequency but the change in kind.

In the first few months after she died, I kept thinking of things I should be doing for her. Telling her about some show I’d seen. Ordering chocolates to be delivered. Forwarding an email joke or putting an interesting photo magazine in the mail. Administering her blog. Emailing her a photograph I’d taken. Reminding her about the curling being on TV. Planning a trip to visit her in Vancouver.

And then, of course, I would pull up short.

As I waited more or less patiently for my subconscious to catch up, I marvelled at how many things I’d done for Mom: the “how many” quantified, however roughly, by all the times I pulled up short.

Now my subconscious has stopped yammering at me to do these little things, and I can hear what’s going on around me. There’s the noise made by grandchildren, growing in wisdom and stature. By our trips to new places. By my weekly blogging. By new hobbies like making videos and (oh my goodness what was I thinking) knitting. It should make for a happy hubbub, shouldn’t it?

And it is happy, but it’s strangely quiet, too: There is a silence at the core.

Until her voice was silenced, who knew that she was the one person I could count on to comment favourably on all the aspects of my life?

As I wait for my subconscious to catch up again, I marvel at how many things Mom did for me.

Posted in Feeling Clearly, Mortality, New Perspectives | Tagged Mortality | 16 Comments