a harvest anthem


It’s a winter wild game harvest, where neighbors gather round
To savor the earth’s bounty, from the water, woods, and ground

With crock pots, bags, and bottles, the dinner pile increases
Spices, jerky, drink, and salad… all for what? Our thesis:

To build a land-community, of science and of art
From the toddling babe, to wise gray sage, each one a vital part

With wild turkey and noodles, venison soup, and craft beverage cold
We take each new idea, and weave it with the old

What’s with all these geese? Did you hear about the bobcat?!
Each species on the move this year, I wonder where that fox at

From burrow, tip-out, and fence-row, to Mt. Baldy’s humble height
A land community dances on, as day folds into night

Whether ignorant or conscious, winter-spring-summer-fall,
We’re dancing to Earth’s anthem, may we be true Stewards, all

another news round up (energy & climate change edition)

We Have 12 Years to Limit Climate Change Catastrophe, warns U.N.

This generated a lot of press when it dropped… but maybe people feel like the messaging is off. The intent is to generate urgency, which is the first step in making change, but with a thorny problem like climate change, any and all efforts can be valuable. The point is haste, and scale. As a follow up…

Don’t Despair: The Climate Fight is Only Over If You Think It Is

Some commentary on the first link.

What’s Really Warming the World?

Phenomenal visualizations from Bloomberg on the data around the source of temperature variability associated with climate change. They cover volcanic activity, deforestation, fossil fuel emissions, change in solar irradiation, etc.

U.S. Coal Plant Retirements Near All-Time High

The trend just doesn’t seem to be letting up. (See this press release from September from our own NIPSCO).

NIPSCO plans partnership with 3 wind farms in Indiana

A Rare Find: Purdue professor extracts valuable rare earth elements from coal ash 

This from the recently-launched Indiana Environmental Reporter. Looks at the cutting edge of research… now, if they can find a way to scale and commercialize the process.

Greenhouse Gases Emissions Accelerate Like ‘A Speeding Freight Train’ in 2018

Time to redouble our efforts.

The case for “conditional optimism” on climate change: limiting the damage requires rapid, radical change – but such changes have happened before

Adds some nuance to the conversation. A topic that includes science, but as we discuss around these parts, is certainly much larger than the scientific enterprise.

Indiana NAACP leaders say coal plant timeline is unacceptable for residents

This starts to get towards the idea of Integral Ecology, when issues of justice intersect with how we use and interact with our world.

a wee cold spell

Here’s a live picture of me checking the temperature and wind chill readings:

Adam R. Egret, Marco Island, FL

Currently we are sitting at -18 deg F and 18 mph winds, which makes -45 deg F wind chill.

So, how do we all cope, ecologically?

A similar cold snap happened when I was wrapping up grad school, in January 2014. I remember a lot of snow, -40 deg F wind chill, and ice forming on the inside of our leaky windows.

My dear wife attempts to find the sidewalk and our car underneath the piles of snow. There wasn’t no going nowhere.

I also remember the birds. We put out some sunflower seeds on top of the snow, feeling pretty sorry for the buggers. The dark-eyed juncos came quickly, puffing up their feathers for extra insulation, they kept right on doing their junco thing.

A dark-eyed junco, taking -40 deg F windchills in stride (Upland, IN, January 2014)

Juncos are a sure sign of a Midwestern winter. They nest in Canada but winter throughout the continental U.S.

I remember reading that they maintain an internal body temperature of 104 deg F. I stared through the window pane in wonder… how does something that weighs as much as four quarters maintain a 140+ degree temperature difference with its environment?

Surviving severe winters, of course, biologically rewards those individual juncos who are most fit for their environment. These survival genes are passed on to the next clutch of eggs. But it’s still amazing nonetheless.

How about insects?

Some folks are hopeful that this cold snap will set back the Emerald Ash Borer, an Asian pest that has almost completely decimated Ash trees throughout the Midwest (and is still spreading).

But it’s likely that any effects on the population will be short-term, only delaying the inevitable. This cold snap will kill those individuals who are the least cold-hearty, and those most fit to an extreme winter will live to reproduce.

Remember our mosquito friends? I wrote a post last year about finding a mosquito on January 8th in our north woodland, after 21 consecutive days below freezing, including one night down to -20 deg F.

Don’t plan on getting rid of those guys (& gals) anytime soon. (Although, scientists are on the verge of finding a way to potentially wipe out malaria-carrying mosquitoes altogether, which presents some pretty thorny ethical issues).

I’m still impressed by you, girl.

What about us humans? Before weather forecasts, radios, and the like, sudden winter storms could turn into a severe threat.

There was the Schoolhouse Blizzard of January 1888, a series of very unusual events that combined to catch many people outside in the Great Plains just as temperatures plummeted rapidly. More than 200 died and more lost fingers, hands, and feet. Another blizzard that March killed more than 400 people along the eastern seaboard of the U.S.

Scientists have greatly improved weather forecasts through the years. Millions of people are now routinely evacuated safely out of the path of hurricanes. This cold snap was predicted several days ago, giving thousands of communities ample time to prepare. Even within my brief lifetime, the 3-day forecasts are now as accurate as day-ahead forecasts used to be. As a father, I’m extremely grateful to the scientists, first responders, and governmental institutions that keep it all running.

But careful with the hubris, frail human. Hurricanes have regularly killed hundreds or thousands in the U.S. Two of the deadliest six in our history came recently (Katrina in 2005, Maria in 2017), the moralities being a function of more social failure than meteorology.

A couple weeks ago, I asked if solar panels work in the winter. Yes, indeed. I looked up the spec sheet for the panels and the inverters, and their listed operating temperature goes down to -40 deg C. We are currently at -28 deg C (-18 deg F) and they are doing fine.

Wastewater array power production for 1/30/19

In fact, it looks like we hit a new all-time high for power production last Friday (Jan. 25) at 67,771 W. It was about +10 deg F that day. Cold is good!

*UPDATE/ASIDE: there have been reports of loud BOOMS! across the Midwest, and even Plymouth… frost quakes!*

Lastly, one video from this morning, just for fun. A science experiment for the extreme cold. Instead of popping, soap bubbles will first freeze and shatter, falling to the ground in pieces of thin ice.

Later today I’m going to try to hammer a nail through a board with a frozen banana!

birds!

Yes, birds. Lots of birds.

Bird #1: the Limpkin, “uncommon, local, and inconspicous” in southern swamps and marshes, with a piercing, eerie cry that humans sometimes confuse for a damsel in distress. We were blessed to drive right up alongside a whole family of them. (Everglades National Park)

I finally listened to my wife. We escaped the cold, gray grip of Midwestern winter to join the family in the neotropics. My girls also got some quality time with both sets of grandparents.

Of course, I tried to pack in as much outdoor adventure as possible without neglecting some true rest.

I’ll forego the soliloquy on the Everglades – it’s endlessly fascinating – but suffice it to say you should read The Swamp: The Everglades, Florida, and the Politics of Paradise.

While you go get the book, here’s another bird photo:

Bird #2: the industrious Palm Warbler in it’s understated non-breeding plumage (the yellow rump being the identifier). They nest in Canadian bogs and spend winters along southern U.S. coasts, picking crumbs from picnic areas (like this one), or foraging in open areas like coastal grasslands (where I first saw them).

The federal government was shut down, but Everglades National Park remained open and we booked a 15-mile tram ride with a private company, who fortunately were still able to earn their daily bread.

Back to birds. I keep a “life list” of birds that I’ve seen. (Yes, of course there is an Excel sheet going). South Florida stays warm enough for hundreds of continental species to overwinter there, so I was able to add to my list without too much effort. After all, I wasn’t supposed to be working!

New birds to me included 13 in all: boat-tailed grackle, black-and-white warbler, blue-headed vireo, painted bunting, glossy ibis, limpkin, red-shouldered hawk, purple gallinule, black-crowned night heron, semi-palmated plover, fish crow, white-eyed vireo, and burrowing owl.

Bird #3: the ubiquitous Snowy Egret. Their beautiful plumes were all the rage in late 19th-century headwear… the feathers by weight exceeded gold in value. Activists saved this and many other species from extinction by outlawing the unregulated slaughter. At least one game warden – Guy Bradley – gave his life for these creatures, being murdered by poachers. (Tigertail Beach, Marco Island)

Birds are the perfect gateway for people interested in exploring the natural world around them. They can be colorful, noisy, conspicuous, curious, and clever. They may be solitary or in flocks of thousands. They indicate whether a habitat is present or not, what the climate is doing, how the insect populations are responding.

Bird #4: Burrowing Owl. Populations of these 9 inch predators are stable here on densely populated Marco Island, but they are declining elsewhere, and scientists are trying to figure out why.
Yes, they build burrows right in the lawns of big condo buildings, sandwiched between a road and the sidewalk. That is to say, we build condos and roads on all sides of their home. Volunteers help maintain these protective barriers.

Burrowing Owls have the good fortune of being perceived as adorable by most of the humans that moved into their habitat, so they get the red carpet treatment. People will even sign up to have artificial burrows installed in the lawns of their million-dollar houses in hopes they will move in. See this news piece for a good overview.

Can you spot the yellow leg band in the first photo? Unique combinations of the color and position of bird bands allows researchers to keep tabs on who is whoo-whoo.

Just for fun, I sent a photo with time/location/observations to the research team and got a quick response:

Hi Adam, Thanks for the report! This is YX-GY (1094-34386). He is a male owl and was banded as an adult in June 2018, along with his mate and three chicks. He weighed a healthy 129g and had a pretty long tail of 70mm. His mate was also recently observed last week at the burrow, so we’re glad to see they’re both back and hopefully ready to begin nesting soon. Thanks and happy birding!

Some other birds are – unfortunately for them – perceived as repulsive by a lot of humans. As a result they are scowled and shot at, even though the services they provide cycle nutrients and prevent epidemics of diseases. Poor crows and vultures…

Birds #5 and 6: Pictured are a black vulture (perched) and a turkey vulture (soaring), two species that clean up dead animals and redistribute important nutrients back across the ecosystem. And what a gorgeous observation tower! (Everglades National Park)
The Black Vulture. “Nobody likes me, everybody hates me, guess I’ll go eat roadkill and protect humans from an epidemic of contagious disease.” (Fakahatchee Strand Preserve)

There were also a few familiar and friends, like the Gray Catbird, found in almost any Midwestern thicket during the summer. Birds, of course, don’t care what we call “natural” vs. “man-made”. They make use of it all.

Bird #7: Gray Catbird, taking a quick sip from a bubbler.

Others are much flashier. It was a treat to get a fleeting glimpse (and only a poor photo) of the Purple Gallinule.

Bird #8: The Purple Gallinule, “Jewel of the Everglades.” Catch me if you can! (Everglades National Park)

Some birds are just big and unique, and that’s enough for me. Wood Storks fit the bill. I was able to catch a few different individuals at different angles. Get ready for the Stork-fest…

Bird #9: The Wood Stork, standing 3-4 ft tall and boasting a 5-ft wingspan, soars without a care. Or so it seems. (Robinson Preserve, Bradenton, FL)
An immature Wood Stork mingles with (or just tolerates) a Snowy Egret in Everglades NP. Not done with the stork photos yet.
Sideview of a Wood Stork, painfully close to being in focus. Sigh… let’s try again…
A Wood Stork lifts off and pumps for a little altitude.

A lot of folks describe certain forests like a “cathedral.” We have woods at The Center where people get that feeling.

The Audubon’s Corkscrew Swamp Sanctuary is one such site (link). It is home to the largest old growth Bald Cypress forest in North America, as well as a huge Wood Stork rookery. Other-worldly, eerie, glorious (at least outside of mosquito season). Creation’s beauty on full display. Here we find our last few birds (I promise).

Bird #10: A Great Egret patiently waits for a meal.
Bird #11: A immature White Ibis perched above the swamp waters.
A few dozen White Ibis congregating. Their feathers are white with black wing tips upon maturing, while their bill, face, and legs stay pink.
Bird #12: A Little Blue Heron – half as tall as our familiar Great Blue Heron – takes advantage of it’s diminutive size by walking on water. Well, on the floating Water Lettuce anyway. These birds have declined by 55% since 1966, due to habitat loss and human-caused changes in local water dynamics .

The Audubon Society is to be commended for defending this natural treasure and interpreting it for the public.

That’s more than enough birds for one post. But you don’t get birds without habitat. Some of these cypress trees were already growing here when Ponce de León came ashore 500 years ago. This first tree is named “Leopold” after one of America’s most esteemed ecologists, Aldo Leopold. I thought the name was a fitting tribute for someone who truly took the long view.

This tree predates the United States by a few centuries.

“The Leopold tree is 500-plus years old, one of the forest’s oldest, and at 98 feet tall, one of its tallest. The toll wrought by numerous hurricanes has cost the tree its top and most of its branches, leaving a massive main trunk that, chest high, is 22 feet around. Its fallen branches combine with the litter of cypress needles, cones, leaves from other trees, and the roots of nearby plant, contributing biomass to the spongy organic peat of the forest floor. Peat acts like a sponge to wick moisture up to the cypress roots year-round. The moisture in turn keeps the forest cooler in the summer and warmer in the winter.” (source)

This giant Bald Cypress has dropped it’s green needles (leaves) for the winter, but its branches are still loaded with other aerial plant species called epiphytes, which live right on its surface.

Epiphytes above, fungal networks below, nutrients cycling in and out, and birds, panthers, and otters streaming under, around, and over.

A forest elder embodying connectivity, community, and generativity.

what is “smart” electric car charging?

There’s a steep learning curve on electric cars, because our brains have been molded for generations to think of mobility with gasoline engines. But once you switch your mode of thinking, it’s not too hard.

“How long does it take to charge?”

The answer is always… it depends. You don’t regularly drive your electric car around until it’s “empty” then try to hurry through a fueling station, like we’re all trained to do.

Another answer is a question: “How long does it take to charge your cell phone?”

How many watts does this cord pull? I have no clue. It just works.

I don’t know the charging rate of my phone, because I just charge it overnight and it’s full in the morning. Same with cars. Each garage with an outlet has a mini “gas station” that slowly fills the “tank” up while we sleep.

Or maybe it’s an army of helpful little electric gnomes. I haven’t checked.

I remember getting in my car one morning and seeing that it had gained 20 miles of range over night. What? Gained? That doesn’t make any sense! I’ve been driving for almost 20 years… you just go until you’re almost out then you have to go to the gas station. Cars don’t magically add range while you sleep! But my mind finally flipped, and I realized I can skip the gas station routine altogether if I spend 5 seconds plugging it in every day.

The reality is that if you have a garage with an outlet, you’ll probably never need a public charger unless it’s a couple counties or more from your home. That’s why the comparisons with gas stations don’t make much sense.

Anyway, the “real” answer is that there are various levels/speed of charging… and that there are two types of cars with plugs (full electric and gas/electric hybrids)… I already gave my too looooong explainer here, after my 1st year of driving.

But let me get to the main point.

The main point.

In researching for our first grant-funded public charging station (thanks Marshall Co Community Foundation!), we determined the most affordable option was to use existing underground conduit that ran to the electrical panel. Ironically, it was first laid to run a pump used to clean a leaky underground gasoline storage tank. One more reason to go electric!

The conduit diameter predetermined that maximum size wire we could safely pull through, 6 gauge. This size uses a 60 amp breaker. The rule for continuous loads is 80% of the breaker size, so we can only run 48 amps continuously through this line.

The JuiceBox Pro 40 by eMotorwerks had just what we needed. They are WiFi-connected, which allows me to control the units from an online dashboard, view charging history, set maximum amperage and charging times, etc. Now I can also download data and use it for educational purposes

But the best feature was pairing the two 40 amp units on a single line. 40+40 = 80, which exceeds the 48 amp maximum for the wire. I set a rule such that each unit could individually go up to 40 amps, but they could never exceed a combined 48 amps if two cars were plugged in at the same time (they’d drop to 24+24, or 15+33, etc). This eliminated the need to run an additional wire/trench, while maximizing charging speed at the stations.

Getting busy.

It’s not often we have two cars charging at the exact same time, but I noticed that there were on Dec. 21.

The image below is the charging profile of the Honda Clarity. The time is on the X-axis, and the energy and power are on the Y-axis. Focus on the orange line, which is power (the charging speed).

It is plugged in at 8:03 AM and ramps up to it’s maximum charging speed of 6 kW (29 amps).

At 9:10 AM, a Ford C-Max is plugged in. The C-Max is an older model and can’t draw as many amps as the new Clarity. It ramps up and peaks at 14 amps. Remember… we have a 48 amp maximum. Ok, technically I had set the limit at 40 amp maximum because I was nervous (without reason)! So 40 – 14 = 26 amps remaining available for the Honda. Sure enough, if you look at the first green arrow, the charging rate drops a bit, from 6 kW (29 amps) to 5 kW (26 amps).

It continues like this until 9:31 AM. At this point, the Honda is almost full. For reasons I’m not smart enough to explain (but you could Google), batteries have to “top off” their cells with decreasing speed. At the 2nd green arrow above, you can see the charging rate slowly drop over the last 15 minutes, then stop completely.

Meanwhile, the C-Max keeps humming along. The image below is the 2nd charger, used by the Ford C-Max. It charges at it’s maximum 3 kW (14 amps) until it is unplugged at 9:47 AM.

Ok, now that you see how these things can work… imagine the possibilities. Namely, we can change the vehicles’ charging rates and times based on our goals.

The price of electricity on the grid can change dramatically throughout the day (and you can watch it in real time here). We can program cars to charge so as to minimize cost. BMW already ran a pilot study. In fact, NIPSCO is planning to replace some of it’s coal capacity with “demand side management,” in which customers are paid to adjust their electrical demand.

There is also software available that watches the fuel composition of the grid and prioritizes charging when there are high amounts of renewable energy being produced (software is not yet available in Indiana).

Taken in one sitting, this can all sounds pretty overwhelming. But it’s an exciting time to watch the energy transition and figure out how to do it efficiently, affordably, and quickly.

do solar panels work in the winter?

Short answer: yes, during daylight hours of course!

Sunrise to sunset, faithfully.

So here’s the long answer…

Our solar arrays come with a internet-connected software that allows us to see minute-by-minute production, down to each individual panel. Yes, it’s a dream for a data-glutton like myself, especially on these cold, rainy days (yuck!).

But it quickly gets confusing. When I talk solar, most people ask me 1) “are you going off the grid?” and 2) “where’s the batteries?!” Neither of which we are currently interested in. But both have a lot to do with two important terms: energy & power.

Energy is the capacity to do work (exerting a force over a distance). Power is the instantaneous rate of producing or consuming energy.

A microwave will pull around 1 kilowatt (kW) of power. If you leave it on for an hour (which I don’t recommend), it will consume 1 kilowatt-hour (kWh) of energy. Ditto if you run two microwaves for half the time… it’s still 1 kilowatt-hour, and the utility will bill you $0.15.

When you think of your home, the power (electricity) is ultimately limited by the size of the transformer feeding your home. For homeowners, the utility charges for the energy you consume… that is, power over the course of time (a month).

Think of water in a bathtub as an analogy. Whether you fill it quickly or slowly (power), it still takes the same volume of water (energy) to get it full.

Nature stores potential energy (ability to do work) in it’s carbon bonds, powered via the slow process of photosynthesis.

So… solar panels are rated by their maximum power output. We installed 295-watt Solarworld panels. They are engineered to max out at 295-watts (power) here in Indiana just as they would in Texas. But over the course of Texas’ longer and sunnier days (sigh…), they will produce more energy down South.

Ok, did I over-explain that? Good. (No? Read more, or watch a video).

Just to complicate things further, our solar installation features single-axis tilting to maximum both power & energy (I posted the video in August). Our arrays always face south (azimuth of 180 degree), but we tilt them four times a year, between 12 degrees in summer and 45 degrees in winter.

Like this (ignore their angle values):

So… do they produce in the winter?

Yes, solar panels are actually more efficient at cooler temperatures.

So when it comes to maximum power, there are some great cool and sunny winter days.

This photo above is from December 30, when the temperature was just above freezing. Power peaked at 12:30 pm at 64,200 W, which was higher than at any point registered in July or August. (The record output so far was 66,825 W on October 16th).

EDIT: A new power record for our system was set on Jan 25th at 67,771 W. We also logged our best energy production day (kWh) since October, during the last day of the polar vertex.

It was sunny all day on Dec. 30, so the power profile shows a steady rise to midday, a plateau, then a slow decline as the sun set.

The total energy produced that day was 356 kWh, all between 8:00 AM and 5:00 PM, a scant 9 hours. That was the most of any December day.

So even though the maximum power exceeded anything from July or August, the short days of December mean less energy is produced overall. December as a whole was about 45% that of July’s production. The average day in July produced 380 kWh. July 6th had 526 kWH produced between 6:30 AM and 8:30 PM, during the full 14 hours of daylight.

Two final notes on weather: clouds, and snow.

While energy production over the course of an entire year is very predictable, day to day variation in solar irradiation can be substantial.

Here’s a snapshot of the last day of the year (I’m writing as the sun sets). It’s December 31st, and boy you could scarcely tell the sun was up! Cold and drizzly rain all day long. The maximum power was 2,500 W, a scant 4% of the maximum from the day previous! Total energy production was a paltry 7 kWh.

 

Because we have net metering, and aren’t concerned about going off-grid, this doesn’t concern us in the slightest, aside from the crummy feelings many of us experience on these gloomy days!

Intermittency is a reality for grid operators managing renewable energy resources. But grid resilience is an emergent function of the whole, not merely a sum of its parts. Suffice it to say that grid dynamics can be a little counter-intuitive, and adding in new energy sources is more than doable with the tools we have available. It’s an exciting time! (Well, if you’re a nerd).

Ok, snow time. This is a photo of the 24-panel Moontree Studios array on November 27.

Below is a snapshot of the energy production of these same panels on Nov. 27-28. Each panel is labeled with its energy production in Watt-hours. Switch back and forth between the photos… Notice that snow clinging to any particular panels does reduce production for that panel.

But generally, we don’t worry much about snow. It comes during the few months where production is already lower. The racks are tilted up at 45 degrees, so that keeps it from accumulating (to a point). The panels are dark and made of glass, so it gives a chance for snow to melt and slide off. An energetic homeowner could even take a soft broom and carefully brush the snow off in a matter of a couple minutes. I know someone who does this in Mishawaka, just as they shovel snow from their small stretch of sidewalk.

Ok… all that, and we didn’t get into DC/AC conversions, inverter sizing and efficiency, and so on. More to come. So far, so good…

a savvy Sedum

Wild Stonecrop (Sedum ternatum) is Indiana’s only native Sedum. Succulents like Sedum have thickened, fleshy leaves that allow it to survive dry, harsh conditions. There are about 600 species in the genus. Some were/are used as herbs by indigenous Americans. Architects often use them in green roof design for their ability to survive the extreme microclimate on a roof.

I planted this Wild Stonecrop underneath a silver maple tree after receiving a start from a plant conference.

An American Robin used a live branch to accent its nest (just a few meters from the original plant). This photo is from Dec. 7, 2018. The leaves had not wilted by then… I assume it has rooted and looks like it will over-winter as a live plant within the nest.

There are other non-native Sedums you can plant outside, but native plant species are better adapted to our ecosystem. Their complex relationships provide more ecological function. And clearly, the plants will spread, one way or another. Why mess with millions of years of success?

To quote Dr. Ian Malcolm in Jurassic Park, “Life finds a way.”

It’s going to be a great year.

news round-up

Very little commentary to add here… just thought I would drop some links and let the reader peek over my shoulder and see what I’ve been reading. So here’s the news round-up… ecology edition.

How America Uses Its Land

Maps, maps… Stunning maps!

The Insect Apocalypse is Here

Don’t know what to say other than… depressing. I touched on this in October. Regardless, we cannot shy away from what science reveals and what morality compels.

I’ll post a related photo here, from my garage last weekend (box cutter & 2-by-4 for scale), and see if you can guess what’s going on:

Reading the Landscape – a poem by Steve Glass, restoration ecologist

Beautiful, painful, poignant. Give this one some space.

Sparing vs Sharing: The Great Debate Over How to Protect Nature

Following the theme of the previous links… this is a big and complicated question.

Musk. Echolocation. Venom. Spread The News About Shrews!

Ok, just a little commentary on that last one… I did some reading in my favorite mammal guidebook. Shrews are more closely related to moles than either mice or voles. We have 6 species in Indiana, and 3 in Northern Indiana where we are: the Masked Shrew, the Northern Short-Tailed Shrew, and the Least Shrew. I’ve caught a few in my mousetraps in my backyard shed (not sure which species). They appear to be pretty abundant.

Did you also know… we have flying squirrels in Northern Indiana, and armadillos in Southern Indiana? Crazy.

Integral Ecology comes to TCAD

“We are faced not with two separate crises: one environmental and the other social, but rather with one complex crisis which is both social and environmental. Strategies for a solution demand an integrated approach to combating poverty, restoring dignity to the excluded, and at the same time protecting nature” -Pope Francis (Laudato Si’, para. 139).

A team from TCAD had been invited this summer to visit the Maryknoll Sisters in California. A network called Pando Populus invited several religious communities together to dream up ways they could build an ecological civilization, one that takes seriously Pope Francis’ call for an “ecological conversion” in Laudato Si’ (para. 216).

Earlier this month, co-workers gathered to listen to a new vision for The Center at Donaldson (TCAD).

What is integral ecology? Jessica Ludescher Imanak summarizes it well:

Pope Francis reframes sustainability in terms of the concept of integral ecology. Sustainability in Laudato Si’ encompassess development and resource use, but it also expands to includes integral human development as well. The framework of integral ecology invites us to ‘integrate’ various dimensions ‘into a broader vision of reality’ (LS 138). Integral ecology includes multiple ecologies: environmental, economic, social, cultural, and daily life (human ecology). It also incorporates the Catholic Social Teaching (CST) principle of the common good and a notion of intergenerational justice.

We’ll be coming back again to the emphasis via training, reflections, and ministry practices.

It’s fun to plumb the depths of what integral ecology means, and what the focus can offer the world… but it’s also easy to let it get too complicated. What are some ways we can live into this focus?

I invited Sr. Joetta Huelsmann, PHJC, to share what the vision means to the PHJC community. She writes:

All Thing Are Connected

In Pope Francis’ introduction to Laudato Si, he states:  “St. Francis of Assisi reminds us that our common home is like a sister with whom we share our life and a beautiful mother who opens her arms to embrace us.”

We at the Center of Donaldson take those words seriously as we work toward a common vision to care for the earth and the people of the earth. In doing so, generations after us then will have an earth to enjoy.

Our goal is to work together to heal the earth and to educate others to do the same so that we can transform the future.

We are already practicing Integral Ecology as we work together for social and environmental change by:

-Using environmentally friendly cleaning products

-Recycling

-Installing solar panels

-Assisting the poor and marginalized

-Establishing green houses to eat healthier and locally grown foods

These are only a few examples. But, still so much more needs to be done to be kind to our planet and to those who live on it. So, we have made a commitment to collaborate with others so that all will have the resources that they need to live an integrated life on this earth. Are we up to this challenge? What first step can you take to continue to care for our earth and the people that inhabit it?

… … …

I’ll end this with a picture of a beautiful little girl staring out over a frozen Lake Galbraith (because I can!), contemplating the breadth of the 21st century, this blue-green world turning and spinning through the solar system…

a walk in the north woods

The other week I made a field visit with my Ancilla College intern, Trace, who has been in the Earn to Learn program. The students have been helpful to our various ministries, in addition to simply being a pleasure to be around.

You might remember me talking about the north woods in a post last winter in which I stumbled upon an invincible mosquito.

We hopped in the UTV, rode north, then set off on foot along a ditch.

The visit to the north woods was a good chance to demonstrate how we “read the landscape.” What’s different this time? Is a tree down? New tracks in the snow? How is the corn yielding and why? What are those purple splotches on the ground? Each visit is an opportunity to solve one mystery and discover open several more.

A hint of purple… pokeweed’s palette drip onto the snow.

 

There was a gathering of some sorts, and some scratching through the snow to get at the soil.

As we continued, we came across some obvious wild turkey tracks. Marshall County (at least the western half) has great habitat for this versatile omnivore… a healthy mixture of fields, pastures, forests, and water. We rank among the top counties in the state for wild turkey harvests during hunting season.

The Indiana DNR says of the wild turkey:

Insects provide high energy food for fast-growing poult, but the backbone of turkey’s diet consists of wild fruits, acorns, green leaves, seeds, and domestic grains. Those of our eastern woodland feed on sumac, wild grapes, dogwood berries, beechnuts, acorns, greenbrier, roots and tubers. Water is taken freely and grit consumed to grind harder foods…

A combination of uncontrolled hunting and nearly absolute destruction of timber completely wiped out turkeys in Indiana and other Midwestern states. As late as 1945, it appeared that they might be a vanishing species in the United States. As marginal farmland returned to timber and conservation practices were applied to our plundered land, the state was set for turkey revival.

Well-regulated hunting has helped ensure that populations remain healthy and viable into the future.

We continued along the drainage to the main woods and zig-zagged around, looking for tracks, examining the trees, looking for anything out of place.

I was sure to take a moment and allow us both to just sit in the silence a bit. It’s what a woods is for, most of all.

The long winter’s nap.

This summer, we were visited by a university professor who was scoping out our land for a potential Bioblitz in 2019. A Bioblitz is “an intense period of biological surveying in an attempt to record all the living species within a designated area. Groups of scientists, naturalists and volunteers conduct an intensive field study over a continuous time period (e.g., usually 24 hours). There is a public component to many BioBlitzes, with the goal of getting the public interested in biodiversity” (Wiki).

No promises yet… but we are hopeful this will work out. This prof was totally geeking out about the woods we had, as well as the wetlands, pastures, and prairie across our the breadth of the property. My mind started spinning about all the connections we could make with the public… and all the species lists I’d have! We have never really completed a full inventory of all the biota here… it would be an amazing experience.

As Trace and I headed back toward the heart of campus, we saw a trio of Sandhill Cranes pass overhead. That was a mated pair with a young who was raised on our property. We followed them to the pasture where they were foraging. They are in the center of the photo below… their dirty gray color makes for good camouflage.

I’ll close with one of my favorite poems, “The Peace of Wild Things” by Wendell Berry (collected in this volume with other poems). I recommend it be experienced as read by the author (click here), and given the proper space and attention to meditate on… but otherwise, here’s the text:

When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.