Oriental Year of Water Wabbit aka March Hare Brings False Spring, Ice Balls, Massive Snowfall in Unexpected Places
ORIENTAL YEAR OF WATER WABBIT aka MARCH HARE BRINGS FALSE SPRING, ICE BALLS, MASSIVE SNOWFALL in UNEXPECTED PLACES
FIRST WEDNESDAY TUNE-IN FROM DEEP INSIDE MOUNTAIN WRITERS’ CAVE for[?INSECURE] CREATIVE, SCRIBBLERS to WITNESS UNUSUALLY HIGH TEMPS & SUNSHINE in SOUTHERN PARTS of ‘REAL WORLD’
GOLF BUFFS CELEBRATE @PGA HONDA CLASSIC PALM SPRINGS, FLA in 80ºF, w/BAHAMAS, PUERTO RICO, CARIBBEAN vs. SAN FRANCISCO, LAS VEGAS, SHASTA’s SNOW & ICE BALLS
HONDA Classic golf tournament just ended at the hugely complicated PGA golf course in Palm Springs, Fla, with a final playoff between champion Chris Kirk & challenger Eric Cole, Kirk winning by a triumphant birdie on water/bunker-enclosed 18th green.
Rubber Duckies Join the Throng Aboard new s.s. Scarlet Lady
More than a decade ago, ocean studies conducted by major New England ocean research state-funded institutions discovered that “rubber duckies“, below rt. were being unwittingly transported around the globe, following natural current fluctuations & boosted by tropical and Arctic storms. While a concentration of these tiny plastic toys gathered naturally in Central Pacific’s Great ‘Pacific Garbage Patch’, others found their way to Alaska, Pennsylvania, Trinidad, CA & even the Magellan Straits & Chile’s Cape Horn.








Virgin Cruise ship, top rt. s.s. Scarlet Lady has joined Richard Branson’s family of human transportation to unusual places-space, airline jets & deep sea adventures with ocean voyages to Caribbean, Florida Keys, Bahamian Cays, and Leeward Islands, & soon Puerto Rico in essentially British style cruises: the Scarlet Lady takes only adult passengers; although a little bird succeeded in hiding mini “rubber-duckies” under passengers’ dining room chairs & in cabins (for charity) before they sailed on last adventure.
During Mardi Gras Carnival in NOLA, the ‘Big Easy’, and Brazil last month, there were all versions of duckies, although it took return to semi-normalcy for our fave creatures to feature—Valentine’s Day duckies, rt, 2nd top & middle rt. reigning supreme.
Ocean-fishing begins to surge now, with the waxing March moon encouraging fishermen—particularly Pacific islanders-to join their fellows in catch-to-eat swordfish & Ahi-(popular member of tuna family), while Ocean tourism by local Hawai’ian Tourist Board yachts is bringing in early whale-spotters. Humpbacks, monk seal pups, even shark babies are being born in seasonal balmy waters—Hilo Bay, Big Island, HI air temp 80ºF; water temp 76ºF.
Even if no mythical hippocampus sea monsters have been seen drawing god Poseidon/Neptune’s chariot—as in Fishbourne Roman Palace mosaic floor, above bottom rt., indeed gentle giant Mama humpbacks have been spotted giving birth to babies in balmy waters off Kailua-Kona on Hawai’i’s leeward coast. Right now volunteer preservationists are diligent in removing all discarded fish-netting gear & plastic debris from these waters. Even sharks, stranded in unusually high spring tides have been carefully assisted by the volunteers (wearing protective dive suits) back into the Bay. Baby monk seals caressed in sand by Mama are also being monitored,
Thankfully, we are seeing the last of February’s month of high winds and rainfall—two feet in places, up to 7inches per day Hilo coast, associated with high surf & wintry showers over Mauna Kea mountain top, 29,000ft from ocean floor—which coated the telescope array (ELT, extra large telescope) with a dusting of white snow. It had a surreal edge to it, particularly on Virgo full moon night February 19th.
March full “Worm” moon next Tuesday March 7th, will be followed by new moon March 21st, coinciding with Spring Equinox and the beginning of Ramadan. In the old pre-Xtian calendar Equinox falls precisely six weeks after Feast of Bridei/Brigid, aka Candlemas, February 2nd.
Clocks spring forward on March 12th, 2023 (Daylight Saving time in U.S.A.), while British clocks change later month 3/26/23.
Ancient pre-Celtic Deities Based on Babylonian/Greek/Carthaginian Model copied into Roman Pantheon
In the ancient pre-Xtian Calendar, based on Roman/Greek/Babylonian mythology, we [Europeans] still calculate Palm Sunday, Easter & even Islamic Ramadan/ Jewish Rosh Hashanah around solstices & equinoxes. e.g. Candlemas, Feb.2nd, Feast of Bride/ ancient Brigantia falls precisely six weeks after winter solstice; six weeks before Spring Equinox; with one exception—Easter in R.C, Anglican & Presbyterian Churches varies from Orthodox Church by one week.
This clearly wasn’t an issue to the pantheon aka atheist gods of myth; as theirs was a realm “above”/beyond the human sphere, where “God was killable”. Pantheon=place where gods dwell. So, when Zeus/Helios at first reigned within the pantheon [below 3rd l.] he drove his chariot drawn by horses of his creation around the sky in the day, resting at night in the arms of Nyx, Nut in Egyptian pantheon. When Zeus took on the rôle of sole sun god & Hades [the place/underworld] became incarnate as god of night, he delegated the job of ocean protector and father of (sea)horses to Poseidon/Neptune, pic below bottom l. & top rt. who not only birthed equine offspring, but was in charge of earthquakes-[earth-shaker] Sculpture below rt. Poseidon stands at Melenara harbour entrance Gran Canaria; Canary Islands, on Atlantic Ocean side of entrance to the Mediterranean Sea.
His trident symbolizes triple rôle as god/protector of ocean-and ocean-going vessels, sailors and fishermen-earthquakes and horses.






Nymph Scylla, above rt, (in myth sister of Carybdis, the whirlpool), because she was hated by Zeus’ wife Hera-putative reason:her ex-marital lover preferred Scylla to her-was forever doomed to cause the death of fishermen/sailors, therefore the antithesis of a protector, in contrast to Poseidon/Neptune, their guardian god, (adjacent pic w/sea bubbles) whom she loved.
Before Hades was given dominion over the underworld, Poseidon was seen as its ruler: logical, as Ocean and (underground) Earth Shaker. At that time he was married to Demeter, with Persephone as their daughter. When Zeus took over that godhead, in Bronze Age Mycenaean Greek pantheon, Hera, his wife who hated Scylla, bottom r. above, changed her from delicate inspirational nymph -Muse to forever land-bound beauty, so that passing sailors and fishing craft would be inspired/transfixed by her earth-bound loveliness and not see their ship being drawn into the whirlpool of her sister Carybdis in the waters ahead of them.
Homer’s Odyssey describes her fatal attraction in some detail, as a warning to sailors and fishermen throughout the ages.
Traditional belief that planet Earth goes through a transformation in spring, summer and fall/winter, personified in female form by Greek, Babylonian & Roman triad of goddesses Persephone, Demeter, Hecate/Ceres. Earlier Babylonian/Greek goddesses seem to fit the classical image of that female triad: maiden, mother & crone better than their Roman counterparts Artemis/Diana & Selene/ Luna.
Muse-nymph Scylla, above rt. however, never ages, never experiences winter, never becomes the crone.

Archaeologists in 2000 discovered the tomb of Babylonian GILGAMESH aka Nimrod, rt. the first anti-Christ of the Bible (Old Testament).
The U.S, under excuse of going to war, collected the body, looted the museum, stealing 5000-year old Babylonian tablets describing how to ‘raise a god from the dead’.
Cold war antics do not go away. They are just superceded by modern politics.


RAF Nimrod, jet aircraft pictured here on take-off from R.A.F. Lossiemouth airbase—still operational—on Moray Firth coast, near mouth of River Spey.
It lies adjacent to Gordonstoun School, (private), and 7thC Pictish stronghold Duffus Castle & estate.
Neighbours to W: Findhorn intentional spiritual community, Burghead Scotland’s largest Pictish stronghold
Duffus House, previously leased boys’ boarding house attached to G House on school grounds, has returned to private ownership, now operates as a holiday venue entertainment centre for visitors to Morayshire’s North Coast, ABD Scotland.
Enter the Slippery Slope of Politics as Humans Decipher Code from the Stars—or from Rival Regimes
Hacking isn’t anything new. I became a victim of the dreaded hack in late autumn last year, making it impossible to continue writing this, my beloved blog—a fave occupation next to novel-writing; tree-planting—necessitating a three-month hiatus [+deep self-questioning & doubt of my abilities as a writer—guess you could call that truly Insecure], partly rescued by “reality”, a period of enforced confinement in hospital for a hereditary diabetes-related condition, and addressing the ‘real’ prospects of recovery in a [Telosian eternal, I know, I know] body which was in ‘real world’ terms past its sell-by date! i.e. fledgling octogenarian.
Fave trees of ancient vintage-top of page 2nd row: sacred ash, last remaining one of four planted 1752 as church boundary marker Bourtie kirkyard, ABD to delineate division between kirk burial ground (full of Pictish remnant stones) & ‘outsiders’/non-believers who had to settle for burial in ‘annexe’! And companion in age—though worlds apart—Prairie Creek State Park, N of Orick, CA off Old State Hwy & present Hwy-1 UCal/Arcata/Eureka: ‘Corkscrew’ Redwood [Sequoia sempervirens] first-growth i.e. 2000yr old with twisting trunk in characteristic counter-clockwise motion.
It became clear to me that the world of hackers—now being adopted en masse by powerful regimes around the world as a political ruse to familiarize themselves with the prospect of world domination by bot [as opposed to domination by tank, military force, or clever television manipulation of innocent masses] operates with cleverness at the most innocent level, [my persuasive lady who wanted my site/personal info was a mid-life crisean from Lancashire, N.England, working hard to support a family after a lifetime of poverty]. It is also being commandeered by top officials in hugely powerful regimes in both hemispheres of the globe, neither admitting their stealth or outright theft to one another.
‘Cold War’ was a term used c. 1990-2000 to describe an uneasy agreement among war-capable nations not to use their weapons. The expression has raised its head again, as political heads in U.S. imply unconfirmed reports of certain nuclear-capable countries in the Eastern bloc readying their arsenals for ‘potential’ deployment. North Korean leader Kim Jong Un has backed his Chinese allies in promising aid—nuclear-capable implied—along with military force if needed. While neighbour (U.S. Ally) S. Korea, Seoul press releases have emphasized both neighbor countries’ poverty-stricken masses’ need to return to traditional (organic, hand-tooled) farming. Food scarcity has become a shared world issue.
American teens-proficient in body-camera/portable phone culture-have taken up the litany to help poor nations—especially crucial right now with thousands of earthquake fatalities & lucky survivors/refugees from recent Turkish disaster—to donate free food.
This younger generation has been storming the White House environs & midtown New York with signs & blocking traffic.
As a footnote to the recent mid-February 2023 President Biden (much-televised, but unofficial) visit to Warsaw, Poland, combined w/Ukrainian leader & Euro NATO member nations’ meetings, U.S. White House supremo promised $500million in (military) ‘aid’ to Kyiv. Teens/children supporting nursing & hospital staff on strike in U.S. mainland agree this sum would pay for rescue food & care packages for the poor, aged care-home residents and homeless within mainland U.S. for the next three years.
39th President Jimmy Carter, 95, recently committed to receiving care treatment at home, would certainly agree.

In order to add weight to White House speculations, U.S. political spokespersons in the D.C. capital have allowed television cameras to reproduce their claim that a variant of the pandemic Covid virus was caused by an accidental leak from a medical laboratory in China. Absolutely no evidence of the validity of this so-called ‘received information’ has been given.
It adds to the nuance of lying by a White House official to an already festering issue of anti-China sentiment.
Oblivious to Needy Millions within Continental U.S.A, White House Focuses on 2024 Election
Meanwhile, as of yesterday, Feb.28th, 2023, the White House has given all Federal Agencies 30 days to purge Chinese-owned video-snippet sharing app TikTok, pic above (on millions of private phones) from all U.S.Government-issued devices, setting a deadline to comply with a ban ordered by U.S. Congress—ordered end-January by Texas governor/Austin agents & removed the app. The ban does not apply to businesses within the U.S. (that have no association with the government) or to private individuals.
With my fairly poor excuse that I never quite got the hang of Tiktok anyway—or SnapChat for that matter; I’m a traditionalist & Tweet-person at heart—Elon Musk eat yours out! ❤ with occasional fanciful flights into Instagram—when I’m not being hacked!
Great Britain has not issued any statement on the subject.
Meanwhile Biden seems more concerned with his own image vis-à-vis rivals to his status in 2024 election, as both D.Trump & newcomer Marianne Williamson, who believes in politics of ‘Love inspired by Spirituality’ through ‘Eyes of the Heart’, have a lot of support & promise fairness & equality in federal spending. We wait to see if that might downplay any nuclear arms race.
Writing—and Nature-Watching—a Healthier & Happier Solution to All Ills
Farmers—in particular Organic agri-buffs who use natural companion planting to foster good relationship between plant offspring—remembering Findhorn founder & Angel-chat lady Dorothy Maclean who chatted her sweet peas (below) into producing a more abundant crop—her 1960s’ residence blue caravan at the Park, rt—have always had the edge over those who mow their lawns into oblivion or plant in weed-free rows as means to a quick harvest. Weed killer a no-no!
I have always been one of the former, with addition of hundreds of free-range henny-pukes 2add free manure to an already abundant pasture. See jungle fowl below.
Tree-related p.s.Trees-for-Life started @ Findhorn as a woodland charity, creating its own forest-environment ethos, now centred in Glenfeshie. INV, Scotland


Dorothy, caravan above, in the first garden she planted at the ‘Park’, Findhorn’s perennially thriving growing plot, now peopled with other structures, spoke daily to the sweet pea fairy, left. She was told by the entity’s non-corporeal essence that its cousin, the gloriously edible pea loved humans so much it wanted to thrive.
Peas have always been my fave veg. As a child growing up (in Aberdeenshire) within a hugely productive [organic] garden available to me, I used to pick & stuff my apron with them, climb up the tower of our Victorian granite house & munch [& meditate] overlooking vast-undeveloped-green rolling fields.
As an adult in my own (also granite) house, there was an 18thC walled garden. It welcomed my simple ways, making horticulture a delight. I grew both sweet peas & peas on trellises—wouldn’t you guess, they thrived.
Where I live now-a mid-Pacific ex-pat with gratitude for Hawai’ian warm temperatures to caress my bones-most people grow their own food aka organic. Gardens & woodland [+supermarket parking lots & harbour entrances] are domain of ‘jungle fowl’ who roam freely. You’re lucky to find a nest, as eggs are clearly organic. Go Jungle Fowl!
It is good to hear that Chinese and Polish, Russian and Pakistani agencies are encouraging the innate ability of their country’s poor to grow their own food as a partial solution to modern-day crises—political or otherwise. Poor people, imho, have always known how to make their backyards productive.
So, with the sound of local Hawai’ian froggy-croaks by green shiny tiny Coqui amphibian babes in my earphone-enhanced ears, & the blatant ego-preening swish of cockerel feathers & crowing to his hareem as he gloriously struts outside my hospital window, may I add greetings & good luck to all gardeners, writers young & old. Keep flying the flag of truth, cos lying never wins. We have places to go [in our heart & minds], ppl to influence [truth & light, joy & laughter aka Telosian delight]. And keep that pen and/or Computah working like a Fire-the-Grid expert that you are; and noli illegitimati carborundum don’t let the b–tards grind Udown. ©2023 Marian C. Youngblood
U.S. Groundhog Day, pre-Celtic Candlemas Focus on International Rewilding/Reuse of Old Farmland w/Solar Assist
U.S. GROUNDHOG DAY, PRE-CELTIC CANDLEMAS FOCUS ON INTERNATIONAL REWILDING/REUSE OF OLD FARMLAND w/SOLAR ASSIST
First Wednesday Creative (& Insecure) Writing Celebration of Indo-Euro-Brit Support for Rewilding Old Spaces w/Solar Panel Technology
Getting Carried Away by their own Animal Festivities
Americans do seem to take Groundhog Day a little too literally sometimes—Pres. Biden’s staff getting rather more worked up about holding the poor animal (ground squirrel/marmot) on high for the cameras this year, rather than low for the (poor beast’s fodder) grass & wood-fiber—beaver cousin pictured below top left). And it is the magical creature’s flat-tailed beaver cousin, that Europeans (bar a few Scots purists) think will save the Day—or at least some of our blessed days in the immediate future of the planet and for all of us grateful inhabitants—if we’re spared!





In U.S.A., February 2nd is usually reserved as a fixed date for the miracle animal’s so-called peep out of his underground hideaway—very similar to us obscure writers, hidden away in our Muse-bower or whatever serves to give us undisturbed solitude with our keyboard—before he theoretically pronounces the weather forecast for the coming month [traditional six week gap]. This year’s Candlemas-Beaver-Groundhog Day got a little complicated by Chinese New Year’s being celebrated early with the beloved #Wabbit—aka Hare—coinciding with the last week in January 2023—so they can celebrate a candle-on-water floating ceremony; but the end results appear to come together as February—ancient Candlemas—begins.
Candlemas, as we learn repeatedly from our ancestors, is traditional Feast Day of Bride; Bridei; old British Brigantia; Forest Maiden & Earth Mother—identifying with Ancient Egyptian ISIS [‘Eset’], above far rt., Egyptian Queen of Heaven & Mother of the World. As Patron of all women, she has in recent years (with feminism rising) become world icon for International Women’s Day. It’s crazy in the Shetland Isles as they, too, are celebrating Up-Hellya amid gale-force winds!
It’s Brazil & S.American Carnival time also—traditionally an end to winter with street parades taking over every town.

Chinese New Year tradition—in nations like S.Korea, Taiwan, Japan, Singapore, mainland China, Burma & Philippines include a prayer-float from shore towards the open ocean, pictured left.
Hawai’i, particularly in winter months, is dominated by an increase in numbers on the southern route of migrating Whales—most vivid & entrancing, the Humpback whales, who often give birth in these tropical waters before returning to their northern grounds in the Salish Sea(B.C.) to overwinter.
Mid-Pacific technology appears already to be able to outstrip Western thinking—perhaps increased hours of sunlight have something to do with it—a Hawai’ian farming project, given Local Government funding & support, are offering farmland acreage on Oahu, HI, complete with installed solar panel-covered roofs—like glasshouses w/built-in sun—so their solar panel technology will be used to maximum, gathering rays while simultaneously covering useful greenhouses.
British Weather Used to Max for Windpower
As a Scots ex-Pat—grateful for no longer having to endure the rigours of the wintry North Coast [Aberdeenshire, Banffshire, Moray Firth], I’m proud to see, not only restoration of my personal tree glade outside my walled garden, pic top rt. but the continued appreciation of the stand of hazel, wild & domestic cherry (gean; morello; pear & alder, bottom 2nd l.) to supplement plum, birch & previous century’s copper beech. Foregound Redwood [Sequoiadendron Giganteum] planted to celebrate the birth of my son there adjacent to/obscuring the two-century-old Douglas Fir [Pseudotsuga Menziesii; gifted by David Douglas as a seedling to the then Minister in residence in 1827 at the Old Manse who was designate Moderator of the General Assembly of the Church of Scotland, Edinburgh, at that time. Scots pine aka Caledonian Pine abound.
It is also truly amazing—and fairly Scots in nature—to know that the little kirk below the Manse in the farmland of the Kirkton continues to celebrate a Sunday service once every two weeks!
Nevertheless, weather & human nature being relatively constant—although increasingly wild conditions appear to be taking hold, the winds of the North are being harnessed—following a lead by radical innovator Burnett of Williamston family, led by daughter ‘boss’, with their Culsalmond/Colpy windfarm. Now wind & wave harnessing is occurring through the Glens of Foudland as far as Maggieknockater in the Buchan peninsula to electric generator power centers in the Black Isle, Cromarty; reaching into Sinclair territory in the Far North.

Easter Island Facial Traits Show Influence on Other Pacific Island Residents
Many Europeans may not notice, but there is a noted characteristic in Hawai’ian, and other mid-Pacific island residents like French Frigate Shoals, Guam, resulting in a less-circular “Caucasian” round-headed appearance, and more flat-backed, almost sheared-off shape for which Easter Island’s gods, below—and presumably their ancient resident population—were known. It is remarkable that the Hawai’ian Royal House, headed by King Kamakameha whose statue stands in downtown Hilo, HI overlooking Lilli’ewa Bay, (bottom rt.) took pride in this trait.
Last of the Royal Hawai’ian line, Queen Lilliuokalani, died last week, aged 90. Her hand-sculpted coffin made of local koa wood is currently lying in state in the Royal Palace, Honolulu. She was the daughter of Queen Lydia Kamakameha (1838-1917) who was the ultimate sovereign of the Islands and who lived during the annexation of Hawai’i by the United States in 1898.


Hawai’ians are not only proud of their facial characteristics and unique Pacific heritage, but on special occasions—during hula dance festivals or fire & light ceremonies, they dress with leis (orchid garlands w/mix of tropical blossoms-frangipani, plumeria, hibiscus-in their hair) usually tied in a “topknot”, shown above left. Easter Island topknots were a feature of all the gods aligned on the island’s shore. They were carefully chosen from local volcanic rock, sculpted into the topknot shape.
Many are now lost.
Hawai’ians are not only expert hula dance performers—using hip movement which Europeans take years to learn. But their body shape—maybe considered large to Britiish eyes—in particular with current mountain-climbing madness gripping a (mostly male) muscle-bound population.
Body movement, however, reveals a supple quality within waist & hip gyration that Caucasians are hard-pressed to emulate. It takes years to learn.
Access 2 balmy ocean temperatures have a lot to offer, & many Hawai’ians bathe once or twice daily in local pool. Pictured here rt. within a literal stone’s throw of downtown Hilo, is fave Lilli’ewa Bay. Its easy shallow sandy beach makes it popular not just with locals, but w/Oldies visiting who may have found volcanic black rocks difficult to negotiate elsewhere!
It’s also the single most sought-after go-to pool for that Pacific anomalous practice of Doolah-tending: South Seas (Bali, initially) assist within water to help young mothers prepare for giving birth.

Hawai’ian Paradise Wins Hands Down, Despite Weather Woes
Bottom Line:when all else is said, locals may complain about the weather; Californians about drought alternating with hurricane disruption; New Zealander Kiwis about people raiding their carefully-guarded environmentally-protected reefs, but it’s relative.






Pele—Hawai’ian goddess of fire & ice—continues to reside atop the Mauna, pic above l, holding the world’s largest telescope array [extra-large telescope, ELT] in her sacred grasp, while anchoring her watery toes 29,000ft into the Pacific Ocean’s deepest trench below. She is revered from ocean fringe to Mariana Trench; from coastal California—earthquake roadblock above top rt.—to Bali, Indonesia, Fiji and beyond. Like the Phoenix, ISIS, Egyptian Queen of Heaven, pic top far rt. she may fade but will never die. Even the world telescope symposium atop her sunset summit, above l., keeps touch with local Hawai’ian ‘guardians’ adhering to their policy of no unnecessary disturbance/development at her summit.
It is sacred ground, after all.
Meanwhile, despite record dry rock-bottom water supply (not) in drought-ridden No.Cal (pic 3 above rt.), organic rewilders and other gardening/planting enthusiasts continue to allow the ground around the sacred mountain and its new farmland project in Oahu to prosper—as it will even more when planned solar-panel-roofed greenhouses are erected.
And what about the workers?!
Yes:we writers, IWSGers, NaNoWriMo-ers, Muse-driven regular bloggers, insecure or otherwise, are fortunate to have such a neighborly friendly heritage right on our doorstep. Whether we’re groundhog fans or not, whether we’re just monthly First Wednesday bloggers with a leaf of fresh mint or homegrown lettuce to chew on [lucky us]; let’s agree we are a fortunate lot.
Some people never get past the comic section in their local newspaper—confusingly, Hawai’i’s own is Bahamian (Herald-Tribune) in reverse:Tribune-Herald! See what happens when you let the fritillary (above bottom rt.) out of the chrysalis!
And meantime in authentic Hawai’ian lingo, may I again wish all Hau’oli Makahiki Hou! Happy New Year. Keep on writing!
©2023 Marian C. Youngblood
WildCats, Wolves Call Ancient Caledonia Home
WILDCATS, WOLVES CALL ANCIENT CALEDONIA HOME
First Wednesday March Hares—aka Insecure Scribes & Weather-Wordsmiths—Emerge from STORMY Subterranean Hideaway

Today Good Hare Day
Uplands are unique spaces for nature, climate & people but they are in crisis. Years of harmful land management practices has pushed nature to the fringes of these wild spaces across Scotland. If we are to tackle the climate and nature emergency, Scots govt. take action at scale and pace to protect these landscapes and species which call them home— RSPB Jas. Silvey
Mountain Hare Chas.Frederick Tunnicliffe 1937
Hares March in First Year of Protection by Scots Government
Today marks the one-year anniversary of protected status for one of Scotland’s most elusive but ancient animals—the mountain hare.
Protection was brought in for the species because of RSPB concerns of declining population and that illegal culls were seriously impacting the species’ conservation status. These concerns were expressed over many years that annual, unregulated culls carried out across many intensively-managed grouse moors were having a devastating impact on the hare population.
RSPB used different data to come to same conclusion: that mountain hares had declined, most apparent from late 1990s in areas of the hill country predominantly managed for grouse shooting.
This evidence was used by Scottish Government to report to the EU that conservation status of mountain hares was “unfavourable” and was the catalyst for protection introduced March 2021.





Future Wolf Bear Beaver Highland Coos/Aurochs’ Mixed Reception
Experimental projects in Cumbria, and the Lake District in vicinity of Roman Hard Knott Pass fort show signs of beaver settling in nicely. A west-coast entrepreneur tries convincing hard-line foraging farmers that heilan’ coos are not so much cattle as genetically extinct Aurochs with gentler grazing habits.
No agency south or north of the Border has introduced actual wolf cubs, though talk continues.
Many look to Highland Fault line 30-year old new growth at Glenfeshie by original charity Trees for Life as an example of what volunteer and donated workforce can do long term in Invernessshire. Caledonian Canal catchment drains off forest understorey waterways, beloved of beaver—and oysters. Scots Pine, aspen, birch and hawthorn foster lichen and berries attracting pine marten and red squirrel.
Early Spring Highlights Grouse Moor Activity
Easter is considered ‘late’ this year 2022, tradition holds never until after Feast Day of Bride maiden of Spring.
Calendar calculation ‘old style’ holds to ancient rhyme centred around February 2nd Candlemas in both pre-Xtian and Roman Orthodox Catholic church—if new moon occurs AFTER that date. New moon 2/1/2022 [February 1st], aka too early for traditional count; so wait until new moon March, aka 3/1.
Calendar switches—on schedule—re-arranging run-up to Easter in apparently flawless fluid fashion: Fat Tuesday #MardiGras Pancake stuff-yourself day before deprivation fasting of Lent, Ash Wednesday, personal 40-days in solitary.





Pride of Leopards Three Castles & Cast-Iron Cat Colonnade
Northeast Scotland has traditionally been dominated by Aberdeen with North Sea ocean connections. It built ships for the Baltic run.
Victorian Union Street—linked by iconic cat-bedecked Union Bridge, above—bankcrupted the City.
Its architectural grand plan constructed white Rubislaw granite buildings to flank upper (Music Hall Doric/Ionic columns) and lower Union Street (Jamieson & Carry, Boots & Woolworth’s Emporium, above lower left). Bridge Street descends behind trams to Joint Station, lower level, and The Green.
This elevated superstorey ran over LNER & LMS Railway lines, over former Den Burn—now Union Terrace Gardens, top far rt. perspective toward H.M. Theatre and Wallace Statue—with tunnel access from the harbour. Stretching from ultra-conservative granite Queen’s Road/Albyn Place, Union Street’s mile-long double-decker ‘overpass’ leads its tentacles underground to joint granite foundations (Uptown Baths, Crown St.P.O., Langstane; Tivoli Theatre, the Green, Belmont Street and the Aberdeen Art Gallery. Terminus: Castlegait, Town House, Tolbooth, and Lodge Walk—police HQ—to St.Nicholas).
Alexander Marshall Mackenzie’s granite 1884 Aberdeen Art Gallery, the main visual arts exhibition space in the city, beckons with a multi-coloured granite colonnade (Kemnay pink, Peterhead red) in foyer leading to its upper galleries.
17thC Provost Skene’s House & 21stC Marischal Square Street Art
In ‘granite city’ Aberdeen grandiose preparations near completion on 2022 107million-pound pedestrian park-oriented centre Marischal Square, where Scots sculptor Andy Scott (Falkirk ‘Kelpies’) will feature his steel-shard Leopard sculpture, ‘Poised’ within a glass dome enclosure on pedestrian Broad Street.
Focus of the street-wide atrium, Scott’s two-ton steel 42-foot high big cat artwork perches atop a plinth inside a ‘conservatory’ style greenhouse geared to capture light in multi fragment panes of glass.
Former 14-storey city council offices-demolished 2014-make way for white [Chinese import] granite facades of new glass-enclosed Broad St.-Marischal Square. Old Marischal College, home to @UofAbCollections became new council offices; a view of their previous ugly 1970s building brightened by closed George Street, pedestrian Belmont Street; a walk up Schoolhill to Art Gallery.
Broad St. may have lost its granite ‘cassie setts’ during development but commercial and entertainment retail properties—hotels, restaurants, a casino and art venues are available for sale and rental in 21stC attempt to balance the books. Among new residents in the complex are the DC Thompson Group, publisher of Aberdeen Press & Journal.
Marischal College, Archibald Simpson’s 1836-1844 world’s second-largest granite building* didn’t bankcrupt anyone. It holds University of Aberdeen’s fine archaeological collections from Moray, Buchan and Cairngorms. Interior leads to illuminated ceiling of Mitchell Tower. All granite.
* First in Europe-world’s largest granite buildiing is El Real Monasterio de El Escorial, Madrid.
Leopard Poised to Pounce May Know Secret Password
Leopard emblem of ‘silver city with golden sands’ has its origin in early mediaeval heraldic design, pictured top middle right, as the city’s coat-of-arms: two cats sinister/dexter support Auld Alliance slogan Bon Accord dating from 1561-68 Mary Queen of Scots’ progresses to her royal Aberdonian Moray and Buchan palaces.
The city’s long-standing stalwart of Northeast life, Leopard Magazine has published locally since it was established in 1974. Owned and published by Lindy Cheyne and Ian Hamilton for last 12 years, it has been taken under wing of University of Aberdeen. Early Leopard archives are held by the University. This writer and colleague Ann Tweedy were early contributors to historic files.
Andy Scott has created pieces for other cities including New York, Chicago and Sydney. Commissioned by Muse Developers and Aviva Investors’ board of directors to come up with a piece of public artwork for the site, he favoured the city’s preoccupation with the local cat. He spent hours chatting to Kelly’s remaining Cats on Union Bridge before plunging into steel.
Following Andy’s lead in wry humour, we [insecure scribes, emerge with Muse in tow from PersonCave preparing to pit ourselves against a spring NaNoWriMo writing workshop] might add a fictitious note: especially apt in Pictish NE Scotland (not a Gael in sight; everyone spiks the Doric derivative of a P-Celtic language, shuns the Gaelic (Gàidhlig, pronounced ‘gaa-lik’ in Highland west). ‘Unpronouncable gibberish’ to quote one extinct Aberdonian. So homegrown gaelic/garlic pun…
Andy’s Cat perches on its plinth in rarefied art environment designed to dominate its little people below. Calling it ‘Poised’ triggered the East Coast Pictish heathen in me: I saw ‘Poised’ as a foreign creature, already possessing its own spirit. It became Gael. ‘poisaed’ pron. “pussy”.
That’s not a rude American pun; that’s Brit for pussycat, Am. kitty. Gettit? Purr-purr. ‘In like a lion’ is code password. ©2022MarianYoungblood
Springing Out of Winter Mindset into a New Lunar Year—Groundhog Style
SPRINGING OUT OF WINTER MINDSET into A NEW LUNAR YEAR SERPENT/GROUNDHOG STYLE
EXTRACTING THE (WRITING) DIGIT AND HAULING ONESELF OUT OF OUR (INSECURE) WRITER’S CAVE— FIRST WEDNESDAY OF THE TIGER DECADE
Prelude to Year of Change
Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, lunar Tigresses—Candlemas [February new moon, Imbolc, Feast of Bride, “return of the Light” Pagan quarter day, pagan Chinese new year] is U.S. Groundhog wrapped in a snow pig’s-blanket—or a signal to get back underground and hole up for another six weeks of winter.

"On the Feast Day of Bride the Serpent shall come from its hole. "I shall not molest the Serpent nor shall the Serpent molest me." 1860 Carmina Gadelica Highland Beliefs
Tiger, tiger, burning bright In the forests of the night; What immortal hand or eye could frame thy dreadful symmetry?
William Blake
Tiger is the third of 12 zodiac animal signs associated with the Asian lunar calendar celebrated by Korea, Vietnam, China, Tibet, Mongolia, Malaysia and Filipino islands. If born during a Tiger Year you may be seen as brave, confident and well-liked. Lucky colours—blue, orange, grey; yellow lilies and cineraria are lucky flowers.
Reverse Resolutions better for Psychic Status{Quo}
Traditionally, first new moon of February in the Western World dictated timing for Roman & Protestant Easter—70 days from now—”late” this year. February 1st 2022 new moon happened in purrfeck timing for Tigers, but New Orleans’ Mardi Gras, rt. will have to wait another month—for March 1st new moon. Six weeks (till Equinox) to ponder outdoor-related, earth-nurturing garden & landscape restoring plans.
Not pie-in-the-sky any more.
During lockdown local neighbourhoods, garden clubs, community dig-a-thons and joint Trust-volunteer groups have flourished, resulting in phenomenal fresh vegetable/floral food gifts to charities in 2021.
Below, left remarkable similarity between Humboldt Co. Redwood Coast natural headland tree growth used in some introduced plantings, Scotland with success; rt,up Mardi Gras next month! mid Mildenhall treasure sometimes thought of as Brittonic calendar; lower rt. Loch Craignish Argyll success story by (rewilding) Oyster Boys using centuries-old regeneration beds—rewild both land and sea. Bottom, plant diversity in pinus sylvatica Caledonian pine woodland exclosure groupings, rural Buchan Aberdeenshire.





New Initiative—not Baby-Bathwater Conundrum
WWarII Veterans’ Dig-for-Victory Attitude: Like Getting Hands in Earth, Oldie Tip: Don’t Discard
Just sometimes us #vintage Boomers-&-beyond have a little something worth sharing. In city parks, university and campus allotments in Yorkshire, Durham & Northern Borders, locals are being taught the beauty/benefit of pre-Industrial hoe and rake! tho’ horse-drawn plough and mini tractor discs allowed.
Century-old oaks and beech trees were rescued 2021 by a Basingstoke village-resident association encouraged by HRH Duchess of York in Home Counties after threatened by Council removal for a road and storage upgrade.
Many individual primary and elementary schools in Scotland—since COP26 Summit—encourage local tree-planting initiatives where children dig and plant ‘shade’ areas in gardens of nursing and retirement homes, encouraged by residents. Reused veggie allotments have appeared with free food.
Vintage Landowning and Land working a “high value” experience
Some airlines have joined bona fide charitable donation/investment enterprises, like Carbonfund.org in a bid to reduce passenger carbon emissions by 20% in one year. Western governments now use a system in place for investing CO2 offset levies in sustainable regeneration charitable funds which pay into rewilding, regeneration and restoration tree and hedgerow planting.
Eurobloc nations like Germany’s Schwarzwald, Czech Republic, Norway have limitless multi-age forest cover, supporting wondrous original wildlife. Great Britain lags behind with a staggering miniscule 1% left of its prehistoric giant trees—medieval Royals pillaging and burning wrapping up the last of Scotland’s Caledonian Pine Forest, in 1308. A [German] Royal shot the last Wolf in Scotland in 1722.
Royals are English Landlord—In Scotland, the Laird Rules
Royals do indeed play a rôle in 2022—mopping up after misbehaving ancestors both North and South of the Border. The Crown owns 1.4% of England. This includes the Crown Estates, the Queen’s personal residence at Sandringham, Norfolk, and the Duchies of Cornwall and Lancaster, which provide income for family members; with multiple properties, gardens and Palaces in Central London maintained by her.
A small number of ultra-wealthy individuals have traditionally owned land in Scotland. A Scottish Land Commission review conducted 2020, found that big landowners behaved like monopolies across large areas of rural Scotland with power over land use, economic investment and local communities. Conservation charities, like the National Trust and Woodland Trust, collectively own 2% of England. The Church has 0.5%.
Grouse moor ownership and access in Scotland are a law unto themselves.
Way Into the Baronial Heart—the Three Cs
While the Right to Roam Act 2003 covers England and Wales, convention, courtesy and courage are rules for approaching prickly pathways in rural Scotland: ancient domain of hereditary ‘superior’ lairds. Descended from pre-Independence Royalty of an earlier Pictish lineage, landowners are unaccustomed to having their ‘ways’ questioned.
Contrarily, by tradition the local “laird will provide”—for farmer tenants in times of hardship—is a ‘given.’ Not to be confused with the far North Clearances in Caithness and Sutherland, Aberdeenshire and N.E. Scotland’s agriculture tradition maintains rich productive coastal plain stretching to the central ridge of Cairngorms National Park, beyond Royal Deeside, Balmoral, Mar Lodge, to Ben Nevis and the West. Traditions here include Generosity of the Laird, but also his Rightful Domain aka baronial privilege.
Privilege Preferable to Pool Parties with Foreign Carbon Offsetters
Sadly over the last century, stone properties in Scotland have seen a decline—former hospitals, wartime youth centres, neglected then abandoned chapels, farm steadings, even castles. Drone photography has recently highlighted such hidden gems of heritage with uncertain future. Should current legislation on property ownership in Scotland remain unchanged, these (usually) isolated properties become a target for ‘Offsetters’—absentee (city) investment alliances with sights set on ‘owning’ a treescape/rewilding property thus legitimizing carbon emissions released daily in their ‘other job’. They give out coupons for treading a smaller (carbon) footprint!
Chief economist of Institute for Public Policy Research thinktank, Carys Roberts is NOT in favour of foreign ‘investment’ of this type. She thinks concentration of land in a few hands is reason enough for wealth as a whole being unequal in Scotland, without competing with incomers who care less about their community, just as they prevent those without land from generating more income.
“We have this idea that class structures have changed so that the aristocracy is not as important as it used to be. What this demonstrates is the continuing importance of the aristocracy in terms of wealth and power in our society.” She said one effect of the sale of public land was public loss of democratic control of that land so it could not then be used, e.g. for housing or environmental improvements.
Food for future thought. Yet how long dare we keep thinking before we have to do something about it.
As many #vintage traditions being reexamined, May we be guided well through this February starGATE.
any shortcomings please forgive—novacaine [sp.] erythromycin or plain ibuprofen take blame
tku Walk-In Island Ohana Dental Hilo, HI
©2022 Marian Youngblood
Art of Self-Healing in a Post-Anthropocene Writing World
ART OF SELF-HEALING IN A POST-ANTHROPOCENE WRITING WORLD
First Wednesday in the Writing Cave—open to IWSGers, NaNoWriMos and Other Insecure Scribes
Age-Related Wisdom Spurned by Youthful Masses

Living in the Anthropocene Age—a world which has been changed by Man to near-unrecognizable proportions
“Judging by how the #old are represented—or not represented—by the media, it’s fair to say we live in a society which likes to pretend #old people don’t exist”
Richard Alpert, PhD @BabaRamDass
At this moment, amid north-Atlantic havoc wreaked by (late) hurricane Lorenzo, Climate activist marches, and *U.N. panel discussions attracting world leaders to instigate radical change, a little flurry of benefactors—unnoticed by mainstream media—have quietly continued their superlative support, as the rest of the human race races towards apparent extinction. Melinda and Bill Gates are a good example. With their Bill & Melinda Gates Foundation, in addition to their celebrated Asian water reclamation schemes, they are upgrading an already well-established voluntary network of assistance/donation to earth’s most vulnerable continents, strengthening capability of on-site first responders, and funding local institutions to help communities prepare for and cope with potential future disasters.
*coined by film-makers Jennifer Baichwal, Nicholas de Pencier, in their documentary Anthropocene: The Human Epoch, shown at United Nations Climate Action Summit, end September 2019.

At current pace, we shall by 2050 have created an ocean containing more plastic than fish—Baichwal & de Pencier ‘Anthropocene: the Human Era’
News headlines may not have grasped that beneath the frisson of world leaders—yea, former enemies—reaching out to help one another in New York——q.v. Pakistan’s premier Imran Khan, 66, and his brave support for beleaguered Kashmir; Saudis lending assistance, U.A.Emirates sharing space capsules…there is another agenda emerging—solar panels in the Sahara; thousands of young trees planted in Pakistan, India, Canada, Venezuela; medical aid for East Africa. Things are beginning to change.
The cricket-fan and space fantasy-lover in me applauds such new initiatives. Besides, global darling outside the Hollywood stereotype, Prime Minister Khan communicates freely in their native tongue with Brits, Americans, Hindus and Muslims.
At this time, Hong Kong sentimentally—and crucially—decides to be British again—to assert its independence from mainland China—rejecting the 70-year old Communist celebration and its regime, and flying the Union Jack.
Oldies but Goodies—Seriously
While perhaps wielding a more ancient battle-standard in an effort to use less and give back more, Oldies from the ‘Sixties are still around, still calling some shots, playing music—at least keeping the peace-sign alive. To celebrate the 50th anniversary of Woodstock in August, younger generation parties sprang up to venerate dead idols—sadly many now gone—like Hendrix, Morrison, Richie Havens. Keeping the flag flying, however, are Joni Mitchell, James Taylor, Carole King and David Crosby of (you remember!) The Byrds, Crosby, Stills & Nash, Buffalo Springfield fame. Not only are these musicians still singing and playing their kind of music, but Croz with his son James Raymond played an iconic free concert at New York’s outdoor Lincoln Center on August 10/11th this summer. Release of their latest Sky Trails tour movie—Remember My Name—is imminent.
Solar-powered Yacht, Electric Hummer as Alternative Vehicles

Solar-powered yacht, commissioned by Monaco Yacht Club team Malizia & co-founder Pierre Casiraghi, grandson of Prince Rainier III to sail Ms. Thunberg across the Atlantic
It is good to know that the child has her father, Svante, along for the ride—presumably paying for some expenses. The north Atlantic section of the trans-Atlantic solar racing yacht trip, was commissioned by Team Malizia II of Monaco Yacht Club, with Malizia’s co-founder Pierre Casiraghi, grandson of Monaco’s Prince Rainier III and Princess Grace Kelly, sailing with them as sponsor from Britain to New York.
Back in the Writing Cave…
My writing co-conspirators, with guidance from our Ninja Space Captain, Alex, may—like me—feel a little out of our depth in waters muddied by a special needs teenager on so-called ‘sabbatical’, aka striking/taking off from school, and driving around in a borrowed electric car.
I concede that the driving age in the U.S.A. is sixteen. But in Europe—in both Great Britain and Sweden—the minimum driving age is 18-years old. So I guess, that’s why Daddy’s on the road trip.
I also happen to have inside info on our writing fraternity/sorority, and know that some of us Oldies AND Goodies are truly checking in from a different time—and space—planting both trees and words in our own beloved Cave-corner, sharing and enjoying with others new frontiers in these changing times.
Thanks for being there. Keep the flame burning in the Writing Cave. It’s all going to be worth it.
©2019 Marian Youngblood
Gab o’ May to Gemini June
The old Scots of our little rhyme applies not just to the month of May, but also to the hawthorn bush, the Maytree. Thereby hangs a tale.Ne’er cast a cloot till May be oot
Old Scots rhyme
Gemini offers a kindly doorway to summer: and we are now thankfully a few days into this communicative astrological sign. Gone the stress and hardship of winter, cold spring, slow growth. Enter the Cosmic Twins: dualism, communication, seeing both sides of the same situation. In other words, enter the mercurial element. And warm.
Fingers crossed.
Gemini is usually a forgiving zodiac month. It fills one third of the calendar month of May. Its communication is tangible. Emblazoning shocking pink blooms dance on pale green leafy branches next to russet peeling-bark maples. Purple blossoms shout color from bending lilac boughs. Who wouldn’t want to communicate, yea, rejoice, in May? at least in the latter part of it.
“The world’s favorite season is the spring.
All things seem possible in May.”
– Edwin Way Teale
Not only has the zodiac sign of Gemini the backing of communicative Mercury to support it, but this year Mercury has only recently turned from retrograde to direct. Time for winter silence to end, stilted conversation, lack of fluidity gone; communication can start up again. The earth, too, a little miffed at having to wait so long to see the sun, is throwing caution to the winds, and everything is blooming at once.
As far as I’m concerned, this is a Godsend. It has been a long hard winter. We can all do with some relaxation. A little light relief, duality, multi-vision. Spring, however late, is welcome.
Trees this year are coming into leaf together all at the same time. We are reminded by birdsong of the fullness of life – fresh greenness of trees and shrubs – blossoms open. Life coughs and restarts.
In ‘normal’ years, the ash and oak are the last to open leaf and flower buds and rivalry between them to prognosticate rainy or dry weather of this old wives’ saying is noticeable. All beech, birch, lime and cherry buds are in full leaf before bare branches of the oak and ash decide to join them. Not this year. It was like a race had been initiated to see which species might rival the traditional early budders. They all won the contest.‘If the oak comes out before the ash – we’re in for a splash;
If the ash comes out before the oak – we’re in for a soak‘ more Scots wisdom
What potent blood hath modest May.
– Ralph W. Emerson
Other aspects of the season begin to rub off on our chill northern disposition. We loosen up a little, feeling perhaps not so obsessed to compete or complete projects under the pressure of frost. Northern character is driven by cold: it precipitates one into working harder; showing that one is capable of braving hardship along with challenging temperatures. Mañana doesn’t work here. No cultural bias here, but who ever heard of a multi-million-dollar operation run by a Jamaican?
Is it any wonder that the Scot is Scotland’s greatest export? And, as a corollary, that the Scots hard-working northern ethos is one which takes well to leadership? Historically, successful world empires have been run by expatriot (and patriot) Scots: think Andrew Carnegie 1835-1918 (coal, steel and museums), Thomas Blake Glover 1838-1911 (Mitsubishi), John Paul Jones 1747-1792 (founder of the US Navy). Or politics, art and philosophy: think Sir Walter Scott 1771-1832 (lawyer, poet, novelist), Adam Smith 1723-1790 (author, Wealth of Nations, first modern economist), John Sinclair 1754-1835 (politician, writer, first to coin the word ‘statistics’). Or naturalist John Muir 1834-1914, founding father of the environmental movement.
That said, the Scots, like the Germans, are addicted to exotic places — but only as a place to ‘chill’, to ‘get away from’ their ‘real world’. Nowadays Scots populate world cruises and Germans overrun southern Italy. But then they come back home.
A friend on a recent visit from the Pacific Northwest made an interesting observation: more of a cosmic comment:what if Mary Queen of Scots had not been executed in 1587 by her cousin Elizabeth I?
Would we Scots still be the same feisty underdogs, over-achievers striving to pit our wits against the Universe? If she the Roman Catholic queen, rather than her protestant son James VI & I, had reigned in Great Britain, would we be more stay-at-home? more continental (‘auld alliance’ Scotland/France)? more laid-back? less prickly? less worldly or world-travelled?
Would we have been motivated to invent anything? (James Watt 1736-1819, steam engine; John Logie Baird 1839-1913, television).
Would we tolerate living in a climate which supports, in the words of Lord Byron – whose mother came from Aberdeenshire:
“Winter – ending in July
To recommence in August” ?
Is it any wonder we are obsessed with May?
The Gab o’ May is a harsh word for the beginning of such a gentle month, but historically its behavior has been erratic. The ‘Gab’ or ‘maw’ of a new month which perpetuates the weather of its predecessor is given short shrift. Lest the unwary shepherd forget, ancient tales tell of sheep dying in the fields in May.
Aye keep in some corn and hay
To meet the caul Kalends o’ May
The old earthman’s repeated rhyme about the Kalends of May sounds antiquated and without relevance to the modern ear, but in the North of Scotland this year his words had meaning.
Weather in this Icelandic neighbourhood reached Arctic climax proportions between December and March. April’s showers were icy rather than gentle and the psyche of the ‘stoic’ Scot hardened and bristled. It’s the traditional way in a northerly, long-suffering people to cope with the harsh realities of living at the 57th degree of latitude and farther north.The Pentland Firth, chosen to host the World Surfing Championships, presented contestants with ice floes. Not a single tree opened its spring foliage in April.
A swarm of bees in May
Is worth a load of hay;
A swarm of bees in June
Is worth a silver spoon;
A swarm of bees in July
Is not worth a fly.
– Rhyme from England
Not a bee in sight. Not even an over-wintering midge. And May was imminent. Back to the Kalends, though.
The Kalends was a Roman term which looks a little anachronistic now on the page of the poem. But it is good to remember that until Pope Gregory initiated a calendar change from Julian to Gregorian in 1582, only a brief time into Scotland’s own revolutionary change — the Reformation, which itself did not fully take hold until 1660 — the Church commanded people’s lives; dictated what was read to them (most of them didn’t read themselves) and what the Church read was Latin. So the first of the month was, in the minds of the rural farmer and countryman at least, still referred to by its Roman calendrical name, the Kalends.It was the Roman name for the beginning of the month which gave us the word for Calendar in the first place. In Roman Scots it’s the same as the Gab o’ May – Maw of the month – the cold raw maw of May.
So what does it mean?
In times before there were trains, buses, mechanized transportation, when every countrydweller lived close to the land, the only modes of travel other than foot were a horse or a bicycle. And one of the surest ways of surviving was to keep a cow, or a sheep or a goat close to home. It’s what many rural communities still do in countries other than the First World. In Scotland before the 18th century, little “but ‘n’ ben” shacks were built of turf and earth. When stone building became more common at the end of that century, the same structure was converted to stone, but of similar design: a ‘but’, (abutting the ‘byre’ or stable with access to outdoors) where the animals lived and kept the building warm with their cozy breathing; they provided easy access for milking before being put out to pasture in the fields at the end of May. The ‘ben’ was the other part of the house, ‘through’ the house where guest humans went, away from the warm kitchen hearth and adjoining beasts. Until well into the 20th century, ‘company’ were invited into the ‘ben’ part of the house. Only the family spent time in the ‘but’, within soundwave proximity of the beasts. Even after the advent of a more leisured farming class – those in stone farmhouses with separate quarters for farm animals, barns and other sheds – no good practitioner of husbandry would send his animals out into the fields before the end of bad weather.
When the weather became kindly – as garden centres so often remind us “plant out after all risk of frost has passed”: So with hen, cow, pig, sheep or goat. You kept your life-giving feathered and four-footed companions warm and fed indoors, not venturing to put them out to pasture until all risk of frost was over.That’s where the calendar and the month of May come in.
The original Roman calendar calculated according to a 13-lunar-month regimen. Julius Caesar, after an extended visit with Cleopatra in Egypt, upgraded the Roman ‘Julian’ calendar in 46BC to run along lines similar to the Egyptian solar one which he admired. The Julian year was on average 365.25 days long. It worked well until extra ‘leap’ days started to mount up over a period of 1500 years. When the Gregorian calendar took over from the Julian calendar, the western hemisphere ‘lost’ 11 days. In country districts in the northern hemisphere – Scotland, Ireland, Wales, Shetland, Orkney, the Western Isles – country people saw this as being robbed of life’s most precious commodity – time.
Because the original Roman calendar had run on cycles of the moon, even the revised version began to clash with solar time and calculation which made sense in the first centuries AD by the 18th century had lost relevance. An adjustment had to be made. September 2, 1752 was chosen as the date on which the old calendar would ‘switch’ to the new. On that day, the British Isles and all English colonies, including America, lost 11 days–September 3rd through 13th. People went to bed on September 2nd and when they awoke next morning, the date had become September 14th.
There were riots in rural villages when people thought the government was trying to cheat them out of 11 days of their lives. Though these days disappeared in English lands in 1752, a number had already vanished in other places–France in 1582, Austria in 1584, and Norway in 1700. Tsarist Russian, on the other hand, did not convert to Gregorian until 1918. And the Berber people of North Africa still operate on Julian time.Naturally they were upset when Christmas fell 11 days earlier that year, Epiphany 11 days earlier the next January and then it played havoc with spring. May started 11 days before the accustomed season and so our title quote, another favored Scots expression, became meaningless:
‘ne’er cast a cloot
till May be oot’
It has often been said that the ‘May’ of the quotation refers to the blossom of the May or Hawthorn and this would tie in well with spring timing. In calendar terms, however, in now (Gregorian) time, the Scots are seen to suggest caution when divesting winter woolies, extra layers of ‘vests’ (underwear) until the month of June has begun!
The original aphorism may have applied to the hawthorn, which did indeed bloom during the latter weeks of May; but when 11 days were subtracted from the old calendar, May became 11 days chillier and so in northern Scotland at least, the hawthorn no longer blooms until the last week of the month or the first week of June.
‘Ne’er cast a cloot till May be oot’
becomes the month as well as the tree. i.e. don’t take off anything until June.
… and now is not the time for me to tell the tale of the Victorian Scots bothy loon (farm worker) who was sewn into his underwear in November by the ‘kitchie deem’ (kitchen lass, maid) only to have the stitches removed the following summer solstice.
I’ll leave that delight for another story-telling session…
Arbor Day and Earth Week
‘Archetype of our oneness with the earth’We used to call it Arbor Day. On the hinge between Aries and Taurus, when the Sun enters this celebratory earth sign in the western zodiac calendar: that’s the day John Muir was born in 1838. A native Scot who emigrated to the United States and changed the face of a nation, Muir was the original arborist: lover of trees.

Wolves being hunted to extinction following a change in legislation to the US Endangered Species Act
Muir had similar adversaries. A naturalist and explorer of nature, his favorite wildernesses were in northern California, and it is there that his perseverance eventually paid off.
His activism was instrumental in saving swathes of western wilderness which eventually became the National Parks of Yellowstone, Yosemite Valley and Sequoia NP. The Sierra Club, which he founded in 1892, is now the most important (and vociferous) conservation organization in the United States.
His essays, letters and books have been read by millions.
At first, however, his petitions to conserve large areas of natural beauty were ignored. In the USA, it was a time of railroad expansion, the explosion of large cities, and big business in politics and in agriculture.
In his opinion, the high Sierras and other wild mountainscapes were being ravaged by livestock grazing (especially sheep, which he termed ‘hoofed locusts’). He personally spent weeks, sometimes months, in this high country, documenting and writing about the need to allow areas of such magnificence protection from grazing and (by analogy, its later counterpart,) the human and vehicular footprint.
He was persistent and he was inspired. The wild nature of California captivated him, from his first moment of exposure to its awesome grandeur.
“We are in the mountains and they are in us, kindling enthusiasm, making every nerve quiver, filling every pore and cell of us” John Muir
He had, after all, grown up in rural (but ‘tamed’) Scotland, where the wildcat was close to extinction, where wild boar no longer existed outside zoos, and where in his grandfather’s time a royal patron, King George I (‘Big Geordie’), had commissioned a granite bridge over a tributary of the River Dee at Invercauld, so he could be wheeled from Ballater to the hide to shoot; and where, incidentally, he is credited with killing Scotland’s last wolf in 1722.
Muir saw huge vistas of the Cairngorms, Deeside, Donside and the Ladder Hills have their natural tree populations annihilated by sheep, deer and rabbit. He dreamed of a world that might be otherwise.
Muir arrived in San Francisco in 1868, and immediately set out to spend a solitary week in Yosemite. He later built a cabin there, where he lived for three years. For months at a time he would wander alone in the wilderness, making notes, carrying ‘only a tin cup, a handful of tea, a loaf of bread, and a copy of Emerson.’ It is here that he and his correspondent-in-Nature Ralph Waldo Emerson eventually met in 1871; Emerson traveling from Harvard to meet the man who lived the life he merely wrote about. His visit lasted only one day, but he promised assistance, and offered Muir a teaching position at the prestigious university, which Muir declined. ‘My work is here’, he said.In 1872, the first National Park was created by federal legislation, on the strength of Muir’s efforts, at Yellowstone, Wyoming. It was to be the precursor of many others in the continental United States, including a total of nine national parks, now administered within the State of California by the National Parks service.
After his meeting with Emerson and over the following twenty years, Muir gathered, collated and compiled volumes of data on geology, natural history and plant and animal life populations of the Sierras. He envisioned Yosemite and the Sierra mountain range as pristine lands where original wildlife might roam, breed and proliferate, unimpeded by artificial (human) regulation. It was a difficult concept to instill. And his vision suffered throughout his life, wherever conflict surfaced between wilderness and ‘business.’
In one respect he was visionary, in doggedly hounding US Congress, and in writing for pro-conservationist magazines and organizations.
‘“Few are altogether deaf to the preaching of pine trees. Their sermons on the mountains go to our hearts, and if people in general could be got into the woods, even for once, to hear the trees speak for themselves, all difficulties in the way of forest preservation would vanish.”
In 1873 and 1874, he made field studies along the western flank of the Sierra Nevada, on the distribution and ecology of isolated groves of Giant Sequoia, one of the few redwood groves left in the world in virgin stands. In 1876, the American Association for the Advancement of Science published Muir’s paper on the subject. In his personal essays, however, he valued nature for its spiritual and transcendental qualities.
In 1903, after an inspirational (but chilly) night in a tent at Glacier Point with President Teddy Roosevelt, whom Muir was invited to take ‘to the wilderness’, the President rearranged bureaucratic legislation, and consolidated the boundaries of Yosemite, which had been split and decimated for earlier conflicting ‘business interests.’“Muir has profoundly shaped the very categories through which Americans understand and envision their relationships with the natural world.”
Many wilderness areas are named after him: from Muir Woods and Muir Beach in Marin County, north of San Francisco, to the 211-mile John Muir Trail, which runs from Yosemite through King’s Canyon NP and Sequoia National Park, to the 14,500-ft peak of Mount Whitney in central California. A glacier in Alaska bears his name. He was instrumental not only in establishing the structure which became National Parks, but in the resulting expansion of National Forests, including areas with protected ‘Reserve’ status. In addition, State Parks now proliferate throughout the US. California, alone, has twelve regions of state parks (CSPs) administering 278 parks on 1.4 million protected acres.
So, what has happened in the bigger picture?
John Muir would be delighted to know that in 1964, the US government passed the Wilderness Act, to protect around nine million acres of wilderness. Arbor Day was traditionally a celebration conceived in the midwestern state of Nebraska (a treeless zone), as a springtime event to encourage the young to plant a tree. And two Earth Days appeared on the American calendar–one ratified by the United Nations and celebrated on equinox, March 21st–when both hemispheres receive equal amounts of light and dark and when the sun appears to stand directly overhead on the equator; the other, April 22nd, has gradually superseded Arbor Day; their celebrations now interchangeable.
Recently, with the advent of the blog, acceleration of internet communication and a focus on Earth-related activities, New Earth consciousness, Earth Day has expanded into ‘Earth Week‘. That, too, would please Muir.
But what of his homeland? the sheep-munched treeless wilderness of northern Scotland?
Cairngorms National Park was established in 2003, the largest of 12 national parks in Britain at 1400 square miles, literally 10% of the landmass of Scotland. Stretching from Grantown-on-Spey (north) to Glen Clova in Angus (south) and from Ballater on Deeside in Aberdeenshire (east) to Laggan and Dalwhinnie (Aviemore) on the A9 (west). Its supporters describe great vistas, mountainous peaks (all less than 4000ft) and the Tourist Board of Scotland heralds it a shelter for a quarter of Scotland’s threatened species, and home to 25% of its native trees.That in itself is disturbing.
Its ‘Angus glens’ the ‘haunt of red deer and golden eagle’; ‘heather moor vivid with summer color’, and ‘wild tundra of high mountain tops’ tell the story.
Brief historical recap: in the early 14th century, Robert the Bruce murdered his (Comyn) rival for the throne of Scotland and pursued his son through the hunting forests of Aberdeenshire until he cornered him in his coastal Buchan fortress and – having proclaimed himself monarch – confiscated what was left of Comyn lands. On the ‘royal’ progress north, every last indigenous native Caledonian pine was either burned to the ground or used as live torches to light the way of the conquering army. This deliberate extinction of the species–and the wildlife it harbored–was Bruce’s way of destroying the Comyn hunting forests, themselves a symbol of wealth and source of self-regenerating food and fuel supply. His act (colloquially called the ‘Herschip o’ Buchan’, harrying of Comyn lands in Buchan) totally changed the face of Aberdeenshire, from which it has never recovered.What Robert Bruce’s actions created – a treeless raised beach from the Grampian mountains to the sea – was not replanted. Except for small pockets on landed estates where tree regeneration was encouraged, an agricultural zeal took over the desolate wasteland, capitalizing on open countryside with few obstructions.
In the 18th and 19th centuries, Highland estates cleared out their resident employees–crofters–to make way for agricultural innovation: turnips and sheep. While these ‘clearances’ were more specific to Caithness, Sutherland and the western portions of Scotland, some effects were felt in what is now the Cairngorms National Park. Where sheep were introduced, trees died; were not replanted; not allowed to regenerate. Where deer population had been nurtured and maintained in small numbers in remnant natural forests, for hunting, with the exit of human monitors, they overpopulated and devastated their own environment.
Thus, the Tourist Board’s ‘heather moor with vivid summer color’ and ‘wild tundra’.
The tourist brochure’s proclaiming its 1400 sq.miles as “harboring one quarter of the nation’s native trees” is also misleading. One tenth of the landmass containing one quarter of the nation’s pine, birch, aspen and alder? sounds a little drastic. Especially if compared with John Muir’s Yellowstone. Yellowstone’s 2.2 million acres, or 3.5 thousand square miles, has more trees per acre than all of Scotland put together. It is true that Aberdeenshire, a region half the size of Switzerland, still has fewer indigenous trees than it should–for its kindly climate–support. But that number is growing: private plantations are beginning to take hold again.The good news is the story of Glen Affric: and Trees for Life. This Scots charity has gradually (through donation) been purchasing 600 square miles of ancient Caledonian remnant forest west of Inverness, and has begun the mammoth task of replanting original species of oak, alder, Caledonian pine, juniper, birch and rowan (mountain ash).
While their goal is not to service the forestry industry, but rather to provide habitat for original animal, insect and plant subspecies, (with the possible future reintroduction of wild boar and wolf being tentatively suggested), the group recognize that some felling and forestry operations may be appropriate.‘We envision our work to restore the Caledonian Forest as not only helping to bring the land here back to a state of health and balance, but also having global relevance, as a model for similar projects in other countries.’
Other small parcels–once adjacent to hillfarms, and escaping the ‘set-aside’ agricultural brainstorms of the 1980s–were maintained by individuals, and planted with pines, which are now starting to look mature.
John Muir would indeed be proud of his ancient heritage and the inspiration it has given new groups to start again.
The best news, however, is back in California.In Muir’s time, after the (1848) Gold Rush, California was inundated with new immigrants. His beloved trees came under great threat. In the 1880s four hundred sawmills north of San Francisco were churning out lumber from felled redwood giants–a process which accelerated after the 1906 earthquake–in a need for timber to rebuild the city. In 1920, however, the Save the Redwoods League began purchasing groves that would become the backbone of California’s redwoods parks. It continues adding to this day.
In the 1950s–the post-war boom–lumber mills were cutting in excess of one billion board-feet of timber per year, a level maintained until the mid-1970s, when clear-felling vast acreage of virgin trees was still allowed.
…Until science and sense stepped in.
Science argued, but the battle was won by 1990s tree-sitters, those brave souls who camped out in makeshift treetop platforms while Caterpillars, chainsaws and chokesetters bumped and strained and devastated beneath them.
To explain:
In 1905, the Murphy family started Pacific Lumber, believing that by leaving some of their old growth redwoods standing, they could sustain an industry, well into the 21st century. But Pacific Lumber was purchased (by hostile takeover) in 1985, by Houston-based Maxxam, and clear-felling became the norm. Like the Amazon rainforest, Maxxam were clear-cutting eighty acres of California redwoods at a time–eating into the company’s (and the State’s) last remaining virgin stands. When CEO Charles Hurwitz attempted to clear-cut the largest remaining block of old growth redwood, in Headwaters Forest in Humboldt County, in 1990, tree-sitters — ‘Forest Defenders’ — scaled remaining giants the size of a Boeing 707, and moved in.They were supplied food and refreshment by allies via pulleys, by night, their hoists and ropes removed and burned by loggers, by day. Tempers ran high; lives were lost; protesters murdered. But State legislature listened and stepped in.
Headwaters Forest was purchased in 1999 by State and Federal government agencies, and put under permanent protection. Clear-felling practice was legally reduced to a 20-40-acre maximum.
The logging industry finally sat up and paid attention. Its own resource was decimated; salmon runs and ecosystems had suffered in a mindless race for economic gain, with only ‘table scraps’ left, in the view of Humboldt State University forest scientist Steve Sillett. ‘The challenge now is to improve management on the 95% of redwood landscape (felled) that is just starting into regrowth.’
Growing trees like a crop of grain is no longer the enlightened view. Scientists from HSU have discovered that the older the redwood, the harder and more disease-resistant is the wood, and the tougher its ability to withstand weathering, damage; i.e. you get more value out of one 1000-year old tree than a thousand 10-year olds. Forestry attitudes are changing too. Heavy Caterpillar earthmoving tractors, that caused such erosion (skid trails) and consequent pollution to streams and spawning pools, are being replaced by smaller, lighter shovel loaders on tracks which leave the forest floor intact. State law now enforces a mandatory buffer zone of trees, along streams and rivers, and salmon and other fish are returning.They are on target to create new forests (in one hundred years) like the ones protected in the Redwoods National and State Parks. Muir is by now roaring with delighted laughter in his (redwood) coffin.
So, when they ask you ‘what did you do for Arbor Day, Mummy or in Earth Week, Daddy?’ it may no longer be adequate to say you took the dog for a walk or raked leaves off the driveway. With renewed focus on the Earth, a show of determination coming from youth groups and in education, we may be inspired to show our ability to replenish, regenerate and restore parts of our planet we’ve been gifted as custodians, to bring back to life.
During Earth Week at least, the gardener in us is being asked to wake up.
©2010-2012 Marian Youngblood
2009/2010 El Niño Crazies? or Just Weather
It was a dark and stormy night – oh, no – wrong genre – start again.
And amass it did.
In this neck of the woods, a white Christmas has become something of a rarity over the last score years: an event you remembered from childhood, when lampposts were short and dogs were tall; when traffic was a report you heard on the radio; when the wind blew from the North and old men predicted the white stuff. In these last few years, it feels as if the Earth is turning on the screws and testing us countryfolk to see if we’re made of the right stuff.
There’s a link there somewhere.
All summer long – I blogged about the weather, because there was nothing I could do to change it – winds brought cloud and rain from the west: dragged it kicking and screaming across the Grampian Mountains – that famous Roman chain that spawned Mons Graupius, which usually blocks precipitation – and dumped it on Aberdeenshire.
For those of you unaccustomed to our spectacular micro-climatic conditions in the Northeast triangle of Scotland, the Grampian county of Aberdeen has paleo-historically been blessed with low-level Pleistocene marine sands and gravels on its eastern coast, Devonian red sandstone on the North coast and intrusive muti-colour granites – also Devonian – in the middle. They’re the ones that usually soak up leftover raindrops.The Cairngorms form a natural divide between East and West. These stately peaks – though only in the minds of Scots, as they rise to a maximum of 4,000 feet – are geographically closer to the Atlantic Ocean than they are to the North Sea; yet their granite bloc is a block for precipitation, most years dumped unceremoniously on the long-suffering, midge-ridden West.
For every mile east you go you can expect one inch less rainfall. It’s an old Scots maxim that made some sense in Grandfather’s time.
The charmed population of Aberdeenshire has historically experienced early springs, punctual return of swallows, balmy if slightly dry summers and mild falls. Winter, since the storms of 1981-2, was a gleam in the weatherman’s eye.
Until 2009-2010.
Summer was a non-starter. A brilliant flash in late June – like a forgotten dream: one week after solstice, a few days into early July seemed like a world of childhood fantasy; running barefoot through meadow flowers, gathering domestic strawberries, wild raspberries; thinking of lush promised fruits to come: plums and pears and apples.
Then the drought (so-called ‘heat-wave’) vanished and the rains came. And with them the winds.
In the Bahamas and the Florida Keys they used to say a hurricane rhyme:‘June: too soon,
July: stand by,
August: come it must,
September: remember,
October: all over.’
It applied last year to eastern Scotland, to a scary degree.
June and July were the calm before the storm. August – a month when surprise ‘spates’ arrive and inundate fields of ripening grain, sweeping all before them into overflowing ditches, burns and rivers – brought two downpours. Central riverine communities sandbagged doors, secured and taped windows. And still it came. September there were three more floods; this time the river Don burst its banks in several places: in Kintore a farmer died in his tractor, caught out and drowned, unable to extract himself from floodwaters.
A mile of Don’s worth two of Dee
Except for fish and stone and tree
The September ‘spate’, likened to its ancestor, the ‘Muckle Spate o’ ‘29’ (by that they meant 1829), carried away everything not tied down: including fish, stone and tree.
Equinox came and went and still it rained. Still the winds blew. It was as if the hurricane season of Florida had not only exported its rhyme, but all of its storms:
After Ana, Bill and Claudette, the twisting tail headed north, skirted Bermuda and aimed straight for the north Atlantic, round the Pentland Firth and down through the Moray Firth to blast Aberdeenshire.
That’s right. Not only were these storms of gale-force strength (in high summer a wind over 60mph is unusual, to say the least), but they came from the North. Poor battered plants in struggling northern gardens usually basking in an exquisite micro-climate of Icelandic and Scandinavian temperatures, were being blown to bits.
I digress only momentarily to explain that our countryman, Admiral Sir Francis Beaufort is responsible for giving us the scale of wind speeds that we currently use. It really hasn’t changed much since he standardized it in 1806. There’s been no need. Wind, from a gentle summer breeze that cools the romantic brow (3 to 6 knots, Beaufort 2) right through to a full hurricane-force gale greater than 73mph (64 knots, Beaufort 12) has a way of letting you know it’s there.
Danny, Erika, Fred and Grace brought similar reminders: storm-force conditions injurious to plant, beast and Man. I even found a toad sheltering from the blast in a quiet niche. There seemed no let-up; no sign of a reprieve. Those of us who believed that the Earth was just playing a game, having us on, it would be Okay in another week… were in for a big surprise.I planted a giant sunflower out of its (greenhouse seeded) pot in May, thinking how lovely the vision that, in a summer like 2005, 2004, 2001 or 1998 (‘Global warming’ years) it might set seed to feed finches by autumn.
By equinox it still hadn’t flowered.
It was so statuesque, so tall, so strong – its stem larger than the area I could encompass with my two hands. It was full of moisture and had responded with phenomenal growth. But no yellow petals.
October arrived. Swallows had long departed – they’d decided for the first time in twenty years that enough was enough. They’d lingered in Ultima Thule only long enough to hatch a single clutch. They left on a singular warm wind three weeks early. I should have known then we were in for more.
I thought things would change after the ‘equinoctial gales’. It is traditionally a time when, if summer has been a little less than kind, the burgeoning vines, the bending limbs, the fully laden branches of fruit and Nature’s bounty make up for all the hard work, lost sleep, missed opportunities: the promise is fulfilled, Mother Earth comes through in spades, the sun shines and all is forgiven. The warm earth brings forth ripened plums, pears and apples in abundance, even a choice late cherry or two.
Not last year.
True, there were Granny Smiths and Cox’s Orange Pippins lying waiting on apple boughs pruned close to a sheltering wall larger than any I have ever seen. Artichokes as big as squash; squash as big as pumpkin. But I had to bring them inside to ripen or they would have moulded in the wet. Green tomatoes so abundant they were going out of style. Zucchini had been under plastic all summer, keeping out the rain. A summer too wet even for zucchini to grow! that gives you an idea of how sodden the ground was. Victoria plums which love a moist year were hanging in abundance, but they were still green, and a few delicate pears – it is a little too northerly for pears here at the best of times – looked like shrunken castanets. There was a lot of green: lettuce, cabbage, parsley and spinach to die for, but not a lot of ripening. I am not usually an ungrateful person. But my expectation was bordering on exasperation.Then suddenly, as if the weather elves had been napping and awoke in a frantic state of guilt at not having done their usual earth tending, October turned mild.
Roses bloomed, butterflies emerged from wall crevices, a dry shed, and sought out the late blossom of buddleia to stock up for overwintering. California poppies that thought they’d come to an alien planet, flowered and raised their faces to the sun.
And, lo and behold, my sunflower popped her first petal.
But the stratosphere wasn’t done yet. Not by a long shot. She’d started, so she was going to finish.
I mentioned earlier that the Grampian mountain chain forms a barrier that usually holds back rain from the West. And last year, its barricading powers failed miserably. Not only did rain follow wind and wind follow rain, but the midges, the West’s most unmentionable tourist nightmare, followed piggy-back along the trail.
The swallows, great feeders of the heavens, had already gone; so nobody was scooping great mouthfuls of the little monsters in massive numbers. Wrens, robins and a few finches that weren’t busy feeding on grain, demolished a few, but the air was alive with them. Wind seems not to perturb these tiny insects: they hide under trees and reappear the minute it drops.
So, calm evenings in the late Northeast autumn were midge-rampant; not pleasant. No window of opportunity for a leisurely stroll in the balmy, breathless air. The blackbirds had it all to themselves.Thing is, there was no evening birdsong. Most of the summer visitors had departed. And those that were still around were looking for winter habitat. Wrens can bundle together in numbers up to twenty-two in one disused nest. Body heat is the only thing that keeps out the cold. Wrens were doing a big business in re-roofing spring nests – for future reference.
There were other signs. I should have known.
Greylag geese round here have become permanent residents. They like the mild winters, so I’ve heard. They top up and home in on a familiar sheltered waterhole; they feed to stuffing point in leftover barley and wheat in open, harvested fields and then head out a little north of here to overwinter. In previous winters, winters without snow, there have been geese still tucking in in open fields in early December. This last fall, all the grain had gone by late October.
And the geese were gone too.
In late October my drenched sunflower was looking a little the worse for wear, but she was still hanging in there. Her strong stem was sturdy enough to support loads of hungry finches, tits, songbirds.
They used her as a stopping-off point between hedge and feeder-table. As if they hoped her yellow bedraggled petals would somehow unfold to present them with a miracle in fat black and white stripey seeds. It was not to be.The rain succeeded. Not in taming her, but when her petals closed in late October – usually a (midsummer) sign that the head is transfiguring, metamorphosing, setting seed – they chose not to reopen. She bowed her head and became silent. She’d had enough.
November raged and birds were blown about. Humans and animals prepared for what was to come. Early December brought some sunny days, but there was a chill in the air that nobody could really pretend was unfamiliar.
And then, one week before Christmas, the snowflakes arrived. And they fell in great soft plops of Inuit 32-linguistic varieties. And they didn’t stop falling until every last man, woman, child, blackbird, wren, robin, chicken, fox, wildcat, deer, rabbit and stoat had felt every possible chill factor they were capable of bringing.
* * *
There isn’t much point in going into the blow-by-blow of how difficult it’s been. But it might be interesting to look at the overview.
Scotland isn’t traditionally a snowy place. I’ve explained why. It sits on the northern edge of the Atlantic Ocean in a latitude akin to Alaska, but with temperatures more normal for the 42nd parallel of the Pacific Northwest. Yes, there are storms which come and go in the three months of so-called Winter, and local government services are never ready for them; it’s a standing joke. They complain before it comes, don’t deliver enough salt or grit enough or clear enough if it does and then blame central Government afterwards for not warning them or providing enough funding in the first place. As if the weather were not God’s fault, but the Labor Government’s.
People in Northeast Scotland have over time grown weary of bureaucratic bickering, complaining and infighting. In country districts in particular, they just get out and get on with it: fend for themselves. Farmers with snow-ploughs attached to tractors clear country roads which large council ploughs can no longer access.
This last winter saw more hardship, more strenuous community togetherness, more help-thy-neighbor-like-thy-life-depended-on-it gestures to make up for every snowless winter or heat-blistered summer of the new millennium.
To backtrack a little: we’ve all heard of, or been made aware of the ways of El Niño.
Spanish for ‘male child’, colloq. the Christmas Child, El Niño was the anthropomorphic name given by Peruvian sailors around 1892 to a warm northerly Pacific current in winter time. It is produced by a weather anomaly combined with atmospheric pressure: Indonesia usually experiences huge amounts of rainfall in winter under low atmospheric pressure, while high pressure hovers over the dry coast of Peru. This cycle produces a westward flow of tropical trade winds.
When the pressures weaken, the trades do too and a period of warmer-than-average sea surface temperatures arise in the east-tropical Pacific Ocean around December, blown along the surface against weakening trade winds which churn its billowing mass into a lingering ‘entity’; the length of its stay can influence weather conditions across much of the globe.
In an El Niño year, warm surface water encouraged by lessening trades migrates east from Indonesia across the central Pacific to the coast of Peru and Ecuador, bringing tropical rains which would otherwise fall on Jakarta, Bali and Papua New Guinea. Not only does the warm water linger, but with weakened winds, it forms a dense mass of warm ocean that does not sustain plankton (which prefer cooler waters) and consequently the larger fish that feed on this resource. In an El Niño year, the high desert, the Altiplano can experience huge rainstorms, while Australia and India suffer from drought.
Recent meteorological interest has been piqued by the growing frequency of El Niño years and the apparent resultant extremes in temperature worldwide which occur the following summer. El Niños since 1982 have occurred so regularly that world attention has been focused, not only on their effect on mean summer temperature but on the fact that they may contribute to ‘global warming’.
Recent El Niños happened in 1986-1987, 1991-1992, 1993-1994, 1997-1998; and in 2002-2003, 2004-2005, 2006-2007 and 2009-2010.
For comparison, using mean world temperature data, the hottest years on record are, in order of maximum extreme temperature:
1 2005, hottest on record since 1880
2 1998
3 2002
4 2003
5 2004
6 2001
7 1997
8 1990
9 1995
10 1999
These freak hot summers all happened within the last two decades. And nineteen of the hottest 20 years have occurred since 1980.
Notably, and possibly related to the gap of non-El Niño years since 2007, 2009 is not one of them!
What may be happening is that, with an erratic move away from climatic norm, weather patterns become reversed, unpredictable. Bottom line, for the weather man, a nightmare.
So back to the point. The year 2009 already marked the end of the hottest decade in history – or at least since they started measuring annual mean temperature. We are, of course eliminating Northern Scotland as a candidate here.
The winter of 2009-2010 will also go down in the history books, I suspect. Not just because Scotland was cut off from the rest of the world for virtually three months, but weather conditions everywhere were, shall we say, a little out of the ordinary.
They had frozen citrus groves in Florida in January, snow in Georgia in February; and a big freeze in northern Virginia at New Year’s. Dickey Ridge (three miles south of Dickey Holler!) had an icestorm, windchill, winds of 50mph (Beaufort 9) which took the temperature down to 8ºF – that, for the Celsius Euros among us is minus 14ºC; and that’s the Deep Saw-uth.This winter, Belgium had weather like Estonia; Estonia a brief snowfall like Guernsey. Scotland is the land of the deep freeze, British Columbia hasn’t had enough snow to support the Winter Olympics. Torrential rainfall in Sacramento, Monterey and Orange County exceeded seasonal maximum; Las Vegas had more rain in two days than in the entire previous year.
⁃ Dare one touch on other phenomena, either closely or remotely related to earth changes? After the January 12th and 13th Richter 6.5 and 7.0 earthquakes of Eureka, California and Haiti respectively, probably not; save to mention that Etna is alive again, spewing out volcanic cloud and ash, Kamchatka’s twin volcanoes are active, as are the Chilean twins of Llaima and Pichillaima in the Temuco Lake District, despite an unseasonal cap of snow! And in the Windward Island chain, the Saint Vincent volcano, La Soufrière, the Sulfurer, collapsed last week.We’re not experiencing anything out of the ordinary.
We’re just in the middle of a shakedown while Mother Earth gets herself ready for spring in the Northern Hemisphere. After all, we, her children, haven’t been behaving all that well these last two decades. So she’s entitled to shake her feathers like a tousled sea eagle and take a look round to see what else she can do to get us to pay attention. Weather is, after all, one of her mechanisms for that.
We decimate tropical rain forests, she sends less rain. We rape the desert for subterranean oil, she sends dust storms and African drought. We create huge whirlpools of plastic waste in the North Pacific Gyre trapping and killing earth’s most evolved sea mammals: it seems fitting that she should turn around and send us an oceanic anomaly to make us scratch our scientific heads in vain.
What’s in store for 2010?
If the Niño camp are right, and the winter of 2009-2010 is one of the ‘strongest’ El Niño seasons yet, then the summer which follows could outstrip all previous chart-topping statistics.
Let’s look on the bright side. Vancouver may not have had any snow to speak of, but Iowa and Idaho, Kentucky and Montana have had their fill. As has (Scotland and) the whole of the Eastern Seaboard from Virginia to Vermont: snow so deep and penetrating that the earth is going to be busy soaking it up, getting ready for new spring growth, filling riverbeds and lakes, dams and reservoirs.Snow melts down at about a 10 to 1 ratio, meaning 10 inches of snow equals about one inch of water. One thing’s for sure: we’ll have water in abundance to get us ready for the growing season.
Perhaps that’s what Mother Earth has in store. If the summer of 2010 turns out to be another like those twenty hottest years on record, maybe she’s filling up her tanks; mustering inner reserves; getting ready to take us through some punishing temperatures.
I mentioned animal signs. We humans may have lost our ability to intuit what lies ahead, but the birds, wild animals, flora and fauna know a thing or two.
Swallows left early last fall, as if they knew what was coming. The autumn bird chorus was minimal, to say the least. My few chickens stopped laying in the first week of December and, apart from one jewel of an egg that miraculously appeared (probably by accident) on Christmas Day, the little group of eight didn’t produce a single egg between them until last week. Even then, I think it was only the bright sunshine that shone warm during the day that got them motivated. They’re still pretty quick to get back inside their henhouse before five o’clock sunset. Temperatures outside right now are maintaining a solid two or three below zero.I mentioned Kamchatka. In the darkest days of solstice – and even in subsequent weeks when January turned to February and the light began to return – temperatures in this part of Scotland were, as I said, more appropriate for Siberia than for an island on the Atlantic seaboard. In the second of three storms, four blackbirds fell off their tree limbs in the night and died. I found the body of a fifth frozen under one of the vehicles, as if she hadn’t had the strength to fly for cover. A greenfinch died in my hands from sheer exhaustion and inability to get enough seed in her crop before nightfall.
As I see it, the winter of 2009/2010 has brought out the best and the worst. At the height of the storms, kind neighbors with 4×4 vehicles ferried immobile snowbound waifs to shop for emergency groceries. Birds died, but hens are laying again and there is birdsong. It’s a signal spring is on the way. The pheasant population, usually set by surrounding farmers as fodder for guns in the Spring Shoot are feeding by day with my chickens, roosting by night in my frozen trees. Safety not only in numbers, but also in the non-shooting enclave.
Aconite petals are gleaming with frost, but their yellow is trying to shine.
They remind me of my sunflower. Beaten but unbowed, she made it through some of the harshest conditions ever to greet one of the girosol family. She stood all winter, too. She stands there still. No flower, no seed, but her stem as strong as a sapling.
If she can make it through, I guess some of the rest of us will, too.
©2010 Marian Youngblood
Space Weather 30-year Storm: Earth fights back
I need hardly remind residents of Scotland that we have only just weathered the thirty-year storm. Most households living through four solid weeks of sub-zero temperatures in an Atlantic weather zone (even with the miracle of central heating) will remember this winter (and last month especially) for many years to come.Fortunately our civilization has advanced enough so that we experienced minimum electrical ‘outages’, despite heavy snow, icicles and ice on power lines. There were, however, multiple power ‘surges’ and computers countrywide were frozen in mid surge. Mac and pc-owners and related computer businesses are still counting the cost. Curry’s have been doing a roaring trade in replacement laptops!
It seems to have hit a lot of young ones harder than they might have thought: not that closing schools and cancelling bus and train services are a hazard; more time to make snowmen, play and enjoy winter sports, you might think. Lack of reliable public transportation, however – counting on any public services, in fact – four weeks without refuse collection borders on neglect, were commuters’ and householders’ concerns. Abandonment, remoteness and surprise at being cut off suddenly are what hit the teens hardest, I think because they are unaccustomed to having their social life curtailed by ‘weather’ and few had experienced conditions such as these in their young lives.
Some of us older oldies remember the winter of 1981/2 with shivering empathy; electrical failure, power cuts, snow drifts higher than houses; evacuating and rescuing neighbours, birds frozen overnight in trees. But that was back in the Thatcherite era, before the internet, when we didn’t EXPECT everything to run on time, snow ploughs to get through, petrol in cars not to freeze.
Human culture has changed in nearly 30 years: Even in the modern backwater of Aberdeenshire, the County of no motorways, the self-styled Oil Capital of Europe.
For those unfamiliar with our ways, this corner of Scotland – the Northeast triangle between Rivers Don and Dee and the balmy Moray Firth – has always flourished, but more than that, it looks after its own. Rather, I suppose, like Geordies idolizing their working-class heroes that went ‘down the pits’ or Scousers joking ‘don’t bomb Iraq; nuke Manchester’. Parochial in the extreme.Unlike some other lesser-urban metropolises, however, (Dundee, Perth, Stranraer), Aberdeen has always pulled through its hardest times: Dundee used to be known (an age ago, when the world was young) for its Jute, Jam and Journalism. Now it is home to none of these; but it has Robert Scott’s ‘Discovery‘, the Tay Bridge and it’s on the way to St. Andrews, which every golfer in the world has heard of; i.e. it participates peripherally in tourism, but some of its poorer districts are in appalling shape.
Perth floods every year and millions of national money poured in to rescue low-level housing has been a nightmare. Stranraer we won’t go into. It’s no longer on the way to anywhere.
Then there’s Aberdeen.
Perched on the westernmost limb of the North Sea’s mild Gulf Stream current, its dry climate (usually, rain from the west is captured by the Grampian mountains before it reaches the plain) and its remarkable latitude (57ºN2ºW ), akin to central Alaska, give it a climatic anomaly. Its farming hinterland was rich in Neolithic times and has grown richer.
A century and a half ago the city was hub to a thriving fishing industry; its harbours built, housed and skippered trawlers, tall clipper ships, deep sea schooners and whaling vessels. Thermopylae and Elissa were built here. Names like Alexander Hall & Sons, John Lewis and Sons, the Devanha Fishing Company sprang from everyone’s lips. As a merchant marine capital it was second only to Glasgow in Scotland and Liverpool south of the border.
Aberdeen, however, was never one to have only one egg in one basket: it was also the sole exporter of granite to needy growing urban centres: London streets were indeed paved with (Aberdeen granite) gold. Craigenlow quarry at Dunecht supplied the English capital with tons of its ‘cassies’ or granite sets – hand-cut granite blocks the size of a gingerbread loaf – to meet the demands of a city experiencing growing Victorian traffic problems. If they had but known…
At the height of Georgian expansion, Aberdeen city burghers were so wealthy, their coffers overflowing from the ocean tea trade, the Baltic route, their fishing ports supplying Europe’s tables (nowadays it’s the other way around), their granite exported the world over; that they chose to beautify: and the mile-long boulevard known as Union Street was built in 1801-05. This grandiose gesture – a feat of engineering which levelled St. Catherine’s Hill and carried the extra-wide thoroughfare across arches built over the previous lower Denburn and ancient market Green – almost bankcrupted the burghers, but brought the city fame to add to its already growing fortune.
As early as the mid-18th century, Aberdeenshire’s famous Baltic merchants continued to bring their fortunes back home; so the county continually thrived, regardless of the ups and downs of a world economy. Robert Gordon (1688-1731), founder of the Robert Gordon Hospital, now RGU, was famous for lending money made in the Danzig trade to Aberdeen businessmen who needed large working capital at even larger rates of interest. ‘Danzig Willie’ Forbes ploughed his fortune from the Baltic trade into the building of exquisite Donside château Craigievar between 1610-1625 on the family estate of Corse, when he was already landowner of Menie estate on the Belhelvie coast north of Aberdeen. John Ramsay, an Aberdeen merchant in 1758 built his palladian mansion at Straloch. Others followed suit. The county is today littered with stately Renaissance piles and Georgian mansions more appropriate to the valley of the Loire, the home counties or the wilds of Gloucestershire.Within this mix stir a couple of ancient universities – one founded in 1495, the other in 1593, both fostered and supported through the centuries by Aberdonian merchant success.
The world joke about the Aberdonian who watches his pennies is not entirely untrue. And the tradition goes back farther than the fifteenth century.
Even more relevant to the characterization, perhaps, is the fact that Aberdeen Harbour (presently run by the independent entity Aberdeen Harbour Board) is in fact the oldest running business enterprise in the United Kingdom of Great Britain, having been founded by charter signed by King David I in 1136. The business head of the kingdom resides on the edge of the North Sea.But the bell tolled. The fishing industry worldwide killed its own small fry: when container ships and tankers beheaded sailing vessels, similarly Icelandic and Norwegian refrigerated freighters signalled the death knell for trawlers and owner-operated fishing boats; and Aberdeen’s shipbuilding days were over.
In the early 1970s, Britain was experiencing the three-day-week, unemployment stats for the country were the highest then known, and even the granite industry declined. Its clients metamorphosed from those who appreciated polished stone to faceless ‘councils’ and ‘road departments’ which required the precious quartz and gneiss resource to be ground into dust-like fragments which could be mixed with tar and spread in increasing quantities on the nation’s arteries.
It looked as if Aberdeen, like every other Scots city, might founder on the rocks of history.
Then, lo and behold, along came oil. Bubbling up from below the North Sea in 1971, another industry was born. And the ‘silver city with the golden sands’ was perched on the shoreline, ready to receive it.It is said that because of its very geographic isolation the county learned to take care of itself. And its humour has a lot to do with its character.
Now that there is talk of worldwide recession and dwindling of the oil resource, the current Aberdonian humorous response is ‘oil goes out, Donald Trump comes in’. This refers to the New York entrepreneur’s £1 billion golf course resort where sand dune reinforcing work has just begun on the very landholdings of Menie once owned by Danzig Willie. Aberdeenshire is not averse to turning full circle. It has so far weathered many storms through centuries of change.
So how did we fare in this last Great Storm? How did the planet fare?
Greece had 100ºF temperatures at Christmas and Abu Dhabi and Dubai had HAIL the day before the launch of the 2,717-feet Burj Khalifa tower in the first week of January.
Scotland and Aberdeenshire in particular were at the time experiencing the grip of an Arctic winter, with traffic on all roads down to minimum and gritting and snow-ploughing said by Council spokesmen to be ‘impossible’. While they reported worries that supplies of salt from the Cheshire salt mine might be exhausted, citrus orchards throughout the state of Florida were hit by snow and frost lingered long enough to decimate their total citrus crop for 2010.
At the same time Mount Nyamulagira in a sparsely populated area of the Democratic Republic of Congo erupted, threatening an enclave of rare chimpanzees.
Eureka and Haiti had 6.5 and 7.2 Richter earthquakes respectively, while inland Northern California and Southern Oregon, usually inundated with snow, received not one drop. States of emergency were declared for Los Angeles, Orange, Riverside, San Francisco and Siskiyou counties and as the rainstorm headed east, floods swamped the Arizona desert, threatening homes and killing migrant birds. Las Vegas, Nevada had more rain in two days than for the total year of 2009 (1.69 inches). Alligators in the Everglades froze to death.
France’s Mistral blew early this year, wreaking havoc and damage to vines and vineyards in southern départements of Lyon and Provence; the Riviera harbours of St Tropez and Marseille suffered damage to private yachts.
Since the snowmelt arrived in Scotland in mid January, it is superfluous to mention that the resulting floods have routed gutters and drains in cities and country towns and overflowed ditches in outlying country areas. Perth (again) and Inverurie, Huntly and Kintore were unable to cope with the deluge. These levels of precipitation bring Aberdeen’s rainfall statistics for the year 2009 to mid January 2010 to 101.23 inches, for a county normally experiencing 33.6 inches per annum.
The Earth doesn’t like what we’ve been doing to her in the last thirty years. She’s beginning to fight back.