Posts Tagged nature
back in the shire
After four months in DC, I am back in New Hampshire for a while and am keeping very busy with a number of interesting freelance design projects. I hope to post some new work to my portfolio soon.
In addition, I’m enjoying the abundance of fluffywhite via snowshoeing excursions into forest-deep and apple orchards and such.
smithsonian museum of natural history: behind-the-scenes
I am very grateful to have had an internship at the National Museum of Natural History this past fall. With a background in graphic design and a fascination of other cultures, I arrived at the museum with the desire to learn about the programs and projects of the Arctic Studies Center, as well as the inner-workings of the Smithsonian itself.
On my first day I found my way through the maze of hallways in the anthropology department with Beatrix Arendt, my primary advisor, and began work on several digitization projects that I would continue in the coming months. In addition to scanning and editing slides from Stephen Loring’s archives, I worked with Beatrix to create a map of the North Atlantic region for a publication, as well as a map of Newfoundland and Labrador illustrating French, English, and Basque settlements. I also helped digitize site plans from excavations of 18th-century Inuit sod houses on Anniowaktook Island and Adlavik Island. Interpreting field notes, drawings, and photographs and translating them to vector art was a very interesting process. I enjoyed the challenge of creating a visually cohesive system to represent the materials found at each site and finding ways to differentiate them so each element could be seen in context. At the Museum Support Center, I had the opportunity to familiarize myself with the artifacts themselves as I assisted with cataloging and photographing material from the Adlavik collection. Involvement with these projects sparked my interest in Labrador Inuit culture and allowed me to realize the importance of community archaeology, preservation of heritage, and other initiatives of the Arctic Studies Center.
As an intern I was able to participate in various activities throughout the museum. A few memorable events were: the informative new employee orientation where I learned about the internal organization of the Smithsonian Institution from the director, Dr. Cristián Samper, as well as other members of the executive staff; a tour of Written in Bone: Forensic Files of the 17th-Century Chesapeake with the curator of the exhibit; a behind-the-scenes glimpse of taxidermist Paul Rhymer’s work in the the Exhibitions department; and a fascinating excursion into a pod at the Museum Support Center. Experiences like these exposed me to the various departments of the museum and the significant role museums play in our society.
Working with everyone at the Arctic Studies Center has been an incredibly rewarding experience and a genuine pleasure. Thanks to this internship, I am inspired to partner with cultural institutions in the future.
Check out the Arctic Studies Center online! www.mnh.si.edu/arctic
new hampshire in november
bjorn visits the birdfeeder
Bear-noises in my backyard. (Make sure your volume’s up!)
HHH = lake days
a favorite walk
Foss Mountain.
Courtesy of GoogleEarth.
Atop.
gourds
Dried, from my mother’s garden.
moonwalks and earth-orbits
Today is the 40th anniversary of the Apollo 11 lunar landing. I’m definitely adding this one to my collection of favorite special-Googles.
Note: The ‘Land on the Moon’ feature in Google Earth is pretty much awesome.
Astronaut Kathy Sullivan was the first American woman to walk in space. She wrote an introduction to the book “Looking At Earth”, a project produced by the National Air and Space Museum at the Smithsonian. I found this gorgeous book up in my attic yesterday and have become immersed in its satellite imagery, aerial photograpy, rich scientific language, and cultural insights which quench my desire for new reading material (while fueling my fondness of Google Earth-eske images and all things geophysics). Here is an excerpt from Sullivan’s introduction.
“…Imagine soaring over the planet at an altitude of several hundred miles, traveling at a speed of nearly 18,000 miles an hour, yet feeling that you are floating in a great airship. Every moment presents you with a view that draws out myriad streams of thought, creating a wonderful weave of surprise and remembrance, curiosity and childlike delight. Colors you’ve never imagined, shapes that are strikingly like the maps you’ve seen so often before, places you’ve lived in, visited, or read about – they all scroll below at a seemingly majestic, yet, in actuality, startlingly fast pace…. at night, the most profuse array of stars you have ever seen fills your view toward the horizon. Every orbit gives you the treat of seeing constellations from another hemisphere – a rarity for most Earth-bound people. The thin, diffusely glowing band that marks the Earth’s air-glow layer is plainly visible if the Moon is not too full. The air-glow curves away toward the pole, where it merges with the spectacular green arcs of the aurora. The arcs undulate in slow, grand waves, as if they were gigantic draperies stirred by a faint gbreeze. The more active arcs are higher and brighter, with rays that extend from beneath you in the atmosphere to well above the spacecraft’s altitute…”
I especially enjoy her description of the Northern Lights, as well as her concluding statements about how important it is to educate and motivate ourselves to develop a deeper interest in our planet. To broaden our understanding of not only the issues we’re faced with currently, but also the science of our natural environment, will enrich our lives and (in turn) the land we live on. And perhaps this inspired awareness will rouse in us what she calls “planetary patriotism”.
Here is one of my favorite satellite images which was created after the book was published. To read about how this image was made, go to NASA’s Earth Observatory website.
bald eagle vs. loons
Mom, Penny-pup and I, tired of being inside on such a steamy summer day, drove down the hill to the lake (the thing to do on a beautiful afternoon). As we trudged down the sandy slope to the water’s edge, we were unaware that we were about to become witnesses of an epic event. I slid my feet into the water; refreshing, indeed, but there was something amiss. Across the water, a single loon (common sight) was calling not in the typical ‘laughing’ tone, but in a shrill almost seagull-like cry. Was it shouting for help? Was it injured, or was it mourning the loss of a chick or mate? Another minute passed. A second bird joins the scene. From afar, even without my distance glasses, I could immediately see that the bird curving around the opposite shore of the lake was a bald eagle: its enormous presence in the air, white head and tail, and weight as it swooped over the loon in the water and shook the tall pine it landed in. (My mom shrieks, “The Eagle has landed!”, only after a moment realizing the ridiculous coincidence of this week being the moon-landing anniversary.) Less than 30 seconds later, a second loon streaked across the sky, squawking, flapping, following the path of the eagle, and landed in the water next to the other loon. Both loons floated under the tree the eagle was in for nearly half an hour, both loons never lightening their dire, depressing calls. A man in a kayak weaved in and out underneath the tree where we believed the eagle to be. The eagle must have interfered with the loon’s nest… a chick, or possibly an egg? In an instant, the eagle took off from its limb and began to soar the perimeter of the lake. Gloriously immense and powerful in flight— the eagle circles closer, closer, closer to where we are standing on the beach— it soars right above our heads. The loons floated along the shoreline together, silent, bobbing slightly as they return home.
photo series: context
