Almost Heaven

On clear days, which are rare in August, you can see Mt. Tamalpais from my bedroom winter. You may recall a previous blog post about the rare snowfall we had on Mt. Tam this winter. You may have also noticed the drop in posting frequency in recent weeks. The reason for that is simple. I haven’t been sitting at the window very much. During the last two months I’ve spent my time doing only one of two things. One, going on vacation. Two, surveying park visitors for my thesis research. 

Since returning from Alaska I’ve spent the last two weeks begging, bribing and bullying people into doing surveys at Muir Woods, Angel Island and Mt. Tamalpais. On Saturday I drove up to Mt. Tam through a thick, pea soup fog. At one point I was driving 15 mph and still almost missed my turn. But as the road kept winding up I eventually broke through the fog and emerged above in sunshine and blue skies.

Is this heaven?

I met more than a few sunworshippers who frequently make the pilgrimage up Mt. Tam to transcend the gray gloom of a foggy weekend. After convincing enough of them to take my survey I was free to complete the last leg of the pilgrimage myself. After three days of sitting in the parking lot I finally bounded up the short 0.3 mile trail to the lookout.

Looking down on the parking lot

I found a good rock to sit down on and finally relaxed and enjoyed the view. I sat eating a sandwich, quietly contemplating the 360 degree views. Dragonflies buzzed around, turkey vultures soared overhead and other hikers sat quietly revering this holy place. To the east, San Quentin State Prison was visible. I wondered if any prisoners in the yard were looking up at me and what they were thinking. I thought for a moment of Ernest Morgan, a convicted murderer we met there earlier this year who was paroled in May. How many times did he look up at Mt. Tam during his 24 years behind bars? Was he now experiencing the same feeling of freedom that I was?

San Quentin and the Richmond-San Rafael Bridge

To the north, a small wildfire burned as the fog creeped in above. 

To the west, on the middle of the ridge, was what I believe is an observatory and the subject of a future blog post no doubt. 

And to the south, was the view of my house, somewhere down below the clouds.

And that was where I was off to next to start entering all that survey data into an excel spreadsheet. But my spirit was soaring as my car descended into clouds so I couldn’t help but snap a few more photos of this magical place. 

A plant with sticky leaves and the lookout in the background

Mt. Tam is a place I see every day but I guess I really didn’t fully appreciate all it had to offer before this week. I encourage everyone to go explore some place near your house that you haven't been to in a long time and let me know what you find!

A Window Seat through the Last Frontier

Well, I made it back from Alaska last week and now that I've got myself settled back in I can share a couple stories and photos. We covered hundreds of miles exploring some of the national parks of southern Alaska. We took 7 different planes, stayed in 6 hotels, rode in/paddled 3 boats, took 2 bus tours and spent hours taking in the scenery and roadside attractions from our rental car. I arrived at our B&B in Anchorage at about 2am so I didn't see much on the way in. I was excited when I woke up a few hours later, pulled back the blinds and gazed out at the majesty of the last frontier.

View from our room at the B&B

After a breakfast of reindeer sausage we were back at the airport for a short flight to King Salmon and then on to Katmai National Park. Scott and I were looking forward to see the snow-capped mountains from the air and of course, argued over who would get the window seat. Scott won it, sort of.

Scott enjoys his "window" seat

 Apparently, not every row has an actual window. Luckily, there was an empty seat in front of us where we could see out the window.

From then on out Alaska proved to be a place that rewards you again and again for simply gazing out the window.

View from seaplane, Katmai National Park

On the road north out of Anchorage we were reminded that Alaska is the biggest state in 'Merica.

And one that loves fireworks, hippie buses, the Batmobile and other pieces of Americana.

Once we arrived in Denali we took an all day bus trip through the park, spotting and (mostly) unsuccessfully photographing lots of wildlife. We stayed at the Skyline Lodge in Kantishna and enjoyed a beautiful view from our cabin.

11 pm sunset from our room

But the view out the back window of the lodge we stayed at in Kenai Fjords National Park was even better. I spent an evening sitting out on the rocker, reading and listening to the birds while my parents slept in a dramamine enduced coma inside (the boat ride there was a little rough). 

The best view from any window I've ever been able to look out though had to be from our Cessna 206 flying past Mt. McKinley.

Hello Beautiful

Mom contemplates the view

Leaving Denali in our rear window

Gazing at the scenery from the window of cars, buses, planes, boats and hotels provides only a glimpse of the immense beauty of this place. To really experience and appreciate it you have to get out there on the trails, the tundra, the rivers and lakes. You have to be out in the cold rain, swat away the mosquitoes and see the wildlife face to face. You may have seen the hundreds of photos of those experiences on my Facebook page. Luckily, we were able to do it all on this trip and I recommend everyone put Alaska on their bucket list. It's really a once in a lifetime kind of place!

North to the Future

Tonight, I head North to the Future (that’s the state motto of Alaska). I’ve got my marching orders via email from njbookwoman who has planned out every detail with my dad. It looks like we’ve got at least two bus tours, a couple of air taxis, some boat tours and a few long stretches of driving through the land of the midnight sun. I suspect there will be many opportunities to view wildlife, scenery and perhaps some oddities out the windows of these various vehicles. And of course, I can’t wait to see what views we might have out the window of the lodges we are staying in. I’ve wanted to go to Alaska for a long time and several items on my bucket list reflect that.

-see a bald eagle

-ride in small prop/float plane

-see the northern lights

I’m told the summer sky is not dark enough to see the northern lights but I’ll have a good chance at crossing of the other two items. Does it count double if I see a bald eagle out the window of a float plane? I think if anyone could pull it off I could. I’ve spent months training here at my desk spotting wildlife or neighborhood curiosities out the window and quickly reacting with a photo, video or look through the binoculars. To the usual postings about passersby, birds and Mt. Tam I hope to add next week some sightings of orcas, grizzlies and Mt. McKinley.

Well, before I head out the door let me make sure you don’t have the impression that we’ll just be taking everything in from the comfort of a vehicle. Rest assured we’ll also be hiking the glaciers and kayaking the bays and experiencing the immensity of the final frontier. Alaska has less people than San Francisco and the population density there is only one person per square mile! For a point of comparison, the population density of the great state of New Jersey is 1,185 people per square mile. Let's hope the population density of bears is higher in Alaska though than in NJ where they are frequently spotted raiding garbage cans and dumpsters. Ok see you when I return to ‘civilization’ on August 8^th!

Outside looking in

As you may have noticed more than a few of my blog posts have been and will continue to be about some of the birds I see out the window. As I have spent many hours casually observing the barn swallows flitting around, the hawks soaring high overhead and the ravens ‘squaking’ about I never imagined that they might also be looking in at me. Perhaps that is a story line missed in Hitchcock’s Rear Window. Didn’t anybody notice this man with the telephoto lens spying in on everyone? In any case, I believe that at least one little bird was curious as to what I was doing nested up inside this apartment because a few days ago he came to pay me a visit. I was bringing my bike, a folding table and chairs down to my car as I have been using them to survey park visitors for my thesis research. So, I left the front door wide open so I could move them more easily. As I rushed out the door for the last of the items I noticed something move out of the corner of my eye and I saw this little brown bird, almost camouflaged sitting on the couch.

Not the best photo but that's him (center) on the arm of the couch looking right at the camera.
I wanted to get him out of there before he left anything behind.

It was 7:30 am, I was already stressed and a little frazzled about the surveys and this was the last thing I wanted or expected to see. After some girlish screaming I quickly closed the doors to the other rooms of the house and tried to whistle and wave a hand towel to ‘push’ him toward the door. But he kept flying towards the window where he could see the electrical wires that are his usual perch. Like many a US President past and present, he had made it deep behind enemy lines but had failed to plan a proper exit strategy. I closed all the blinds, snapped a quick photo and then hoped he would figure out the front door was his only escape. He finally darted out and up the fire escape to the roof and beyond. I wonder if he tweeted or blogged about his experience, telling the other birds what he found out about that man inside who’s always looking out.

The tyranny of blogging

When I set out to start this blog I had what I thought to be a reasonable goal of posting once per week. For the most part I have stuck to it but the first time I missed my weekly deadline I got a call from my mom. "Where's your blog?" she asked. When I replied that I had been too busy that week she explained to me "the tyranny of blogging".

It starts out all fun and games. It's a fun, new, creative outlet. Your friends sign up to follow and at least say that they read and enjoy it. You feel quite good about yourself for doing something creative and productive. But other obligations and vices intrude and the honeymoon ends. Next thing you know the days are flying by and the pressure to come up with an interesting new photo or funny anecdote to post grows and grows until the blog becomes your boss, another "person" to answer to, another job that must be done. I suppose this is the point Rear Window has reached since I haven't posted anything in over two weeks. Vacations and school work have taken priority but also provided some material for future posts. So my creative energy is still high and Rear Window will carry on with the intended once a week post.

I saw a beautiful sight out the living room window on Wednesday night. I was sleeping in the living room because my sister was in town and sleeping on the world's softest backache producing bed in my room. I woke at about 4am and saw the almost full moon just starting to set through the fog towards the Pacific. I snapped a few quick photos before drifting back to sleep. I hope you enjoy them since the fog spoiled our full and almost full moon rises over the last two days.

Lessons from the "Man Cave"

Mark Twain was known for being a traveler. He went to Europe, Hawaii and all across the continental United States gradually gaining credibility and fame as a writer. He even spent a few stretches in San Francisco writing for the San Francisco Daily Morning Call. But he wrote some of his most famous works, including Adventures of Huckleberry Finn from his home in Hartford, CT, which I was lucky enough to visit awhile back.

Twain's Billiard Room where he did most his writing

Twain retreated from the noise of a busy household to this 19^th century man cave on the 3^rd floor where he could smoke cigars, shoot pool and play cards while informally entertaining friends. But more importantly, he came here to write in peace and quiet. The pool table would become a work area where he’d spread out his manuscripts to organize his thoughts. To the left of the pool table but not quite visible in this photo is a shelf of cubby holes where he would file away ideas and works-in-progress. Beneath the light of the green lamp in the right corner, he sat at his desk and penned one of the greatest and most controversial novels in American literature.

But what I found most striking about this room was that Twain’s writing desk was in the right hand corner facing the window…just like mine. Did he ever neglect Huck Finn to focus on a bird perched outside the window?

My writing desk is also in a room on the 3^rd floor of a busy house even if other tenants occupy the majority of the building.  Sometimes I use my bed to spread out my notebooks that can’t fit on my small computer desk. And once in awhile I hear the neighbors' kids down stairs running around laughing or crying and I wonder if Twain heard his own kids running about the house as he wrote some of his most famous works upstairs.

While I find these to be amusing similarities we also differ in several ways, aside from the obvious difference in skill and fame. For starters, I write under my own name, while Samuel Clemens of course was Mark Twain only on paper. His stories are based on his own life experiences while mine are based on direct observations of things I see out the window. Twain’s primary tools of the trade were a paper and pen, mine are a computer and a camera. He had cubby holes to store works-in-progress and ideas while mine are stored in Dropbox file folders on the Internet.

Twain had to use his imagination and have a good memory to recall events from his past while crafting his stories. My stories rely on being ever vigilant to catch any noteworthy activity going on outside. It can be equally challenging because a good window watcher needs more than just a computer and some time to watch. Here are a few tips for the would-be window watcher.

First, remove the screen from the window. It only gets it the way. Second, keep your viewing tools within arm’s reach. If you look closely at the photo above you’ll notice my glasses, camera and binoculars on my desk. It takes some experience to know which tool to grab at a moment’s notice. Third, you need to hone your cat-like reflexes, instantly reacting to anything that catches your attention, grabbing the right tool and training it on the subject before the bird, person or vehicle passes by and your story is lost.

Here are some examples of what can happen when you don’t follow these guidelines.

Slow Reaction Time

A few weeks ago I noticed a fire truck pass by on Lincoln Blvd right where the street light is on the left side of the photo. Then another fire truck rolled by, and another and another. I realized too late that something big was going on. I tore up my room looking for my camera until I finally found it, dove back towards the window and clicked off this photo just as the last truck passed out of view. I later confirmed that it was the funeral procession for fallen San Francisco firefighters Lt. Vincent Perez and Anthony Valerio. A huge contingent of firefighters from all across the country came to honor the brave men who died in the line of duty.

Wrong Tool

This, I believe, appears to be a military cargo plane but I made the mistake of going for the camera instead of the binoculars. The camera takes too long to zoom in all the way and focus before taking the photo. A plane is simply moving too fast for the slowest tool in my belt. The appropriate response should have been the binoculars where maybe I could have read some identifying numbers on the plane that could later be googled for more info. Now we might never know the who, what, when, where and why of that military cargo plane.

Unprepared

And finally, you may have noticed no accompanying photo or video to the entry, “It’s not the size of the dog in the fight, it’s the size of the fight in the dog.” That is what happens when your tools are not within arm’s reach.

So Rear Window’s first ever Mark Twain “week” comes to a close with a few lessons learned from ol’ Sam Clemens. Whether it’s a pen and paper or high tech gadgets, you need to apply the appropriate tools of the trade to get the job done. If you want to be a writer, you need to find a quiet place and some time to write. And most of all, you need look no further than your own everyday life and experiences for inspiration.

The coldest winter I ever spent was a summer in San Francisco

Continuing our first ever Mark Twain week, I bring to you Twain’s most famous (alleged) quote about our fair city by the bay. “The coldest winter I ever spent was a summer in San Francisco.” Well, today is the Summer Solstice, the longest day of the year, the first day of summer, and this time (sorry Mark) it should feel like it with sunny skies and temps in the 80s. 

This could hardly be considered winter at all! That’s good news for many San Franciscans because we just came out of the coldest winter we’ve ever spent – a winter in San Francisco. We saw record breaking rainfall in The City and corresponding snow in the Sierras. In Yosemite, Tioga Road only opened this past weekend and the Half Dome cables are finally going up tomorrow. Rumor has it Squaw Valley is going to be open for the 4^th of July weekend.  It was much talked about but the first snow since 1976 did not fall on San Francisco this year. However, one day in February shortly after moving to Baker Beach I couldn’t believe my eyes when I looked out the window and did in fact see snow capped mountains. 

About 10 inches fell on Mt. Tam which stands about 2,500 feet above the bay. If I had it to do again I’d have called in sick and gone exploring. So today my friends, I pledge to you that this summer I will not sit idly by and let such unique opportunities slip past me as I did this winter. It’s the return of the Summer of Eric! I'll catch you later because I'm off to bike in the Marin Headlands.

"It's not the size of the dog in the fight, it's the size of the fight in the dog."

A few days ago I referenced Mark Twain's famous character Huck Finn while discussing my yearning for running free through the hills visible from my bedroom window. Coincidentally, the quote referenced above is also attributed to Twain and I've got another Twain quote in the pipeline for the summer solstice. You may be able to guess that one. So I proclaim this Rear Window's first ever theme week. Welcome to Mark Twain week! So here is a little episode I witnessed today that illustrates Twain's quote, "It's not the size of the dog in the fight, it's the size of the fight in the dog."

This morning while I was stretching in the living room I saw a raven standing in the middle of the road below. It seemed a little unusual because I don’t usually see them there and he wasn’t really moving about. Just then, a barn swallow swooped down and back up and circled over him. Then this little barn swallow went into a straight dive bomb crashing onto the back of the raven like a kamikaze pilot. He fell to the road with a THUMP! I could hear it from two floors up but he apparently recovered and flew off. The raven, seeing this more or less as a minor annoyance also got up and flew away. 

Now I’m not an ornithologist or a biologist or even a smart person so it took me a second to realize why this swallow was attacking such a larger bird. There is a swallow nest in the carport across the street that this little guy was protecting. I don’t know if it was a male or female but today being Father’s Day I’d like to think it was the father protecting his home and family. So don’t forget to wish your dad a happy Father’s Day because he too probably sacrificed himself to protect you from the figurative raven in your life.

Fool me once shame on you…

When I work in my bedroom I look out and the window to this view each day and sometimes daydream about running and biking through those hills in the distance. I feel a little like Huck Finn imprisoned in church on a Sunday, yearning to kick off his shoes, throw off his coat and run through the fields. 

Marin Headlands in the distance

Once in a great while I head over the Golden Gate Bridge and go for a run out in those hills but I haven’t biked on those trails in quite awhile especially because my mountain bike, “Black Beauty” was stolen a few months ago.

Black Beauty - A Noble Steed

But all that changed today when the UPS man arrived at the door with “Black Beauty II”.

Black Beauty II - Dawes Lightning Cross

This is a cyclocross bike. A cheap one. You’ll notice it’s not cluttered with any name brands or corporate logos. I got it from BikesDirect.com, a factory direct online retailer because no store would stock the Dawes Lightning Cross. It’s more or less a road bike with mountain bike tires. Cyclocross races are sort of a combination of road cycling, mountain biking and running. Type “cyclocross” into YouTube and you’ll get all sorts of interesting, hilarious and painful blooper reels.

I opened the box and could barely contain my enthusiasm as I assembled my new bike. The fact that the instruction manual that came with it was for a completely different bike should have been my first clue that this was all going together a little too easily. The second clue should have been that there were some extra spacers and screws left over once the bike was assembled. Nevertheless, my spirit was soaring and I charged out the door channeling Ol’ Huck.

The first four minutes were outstanding! Then I heard the “click, clack” sound of a broken spoke. I was forced to walk the bike back home to take to the bike shop for repairs. It was reminiscent of the (mis)adventure Trent and I had biking from Zambia into Malawi in 2006. Those bikes were also factory direct. We were fooled into thinking they were of a high quality because we bought them right inside the factory. In the first 10 minutes my chain broke and we spent the next 2 days picking up bike parts that had rattled off along the way.

Trent and a helpful friend make the first attempt to assemble the bike.

Bike Shop - Mchinji, Malawi

If it were not for this kid and a dozen like him who made numerous repairs for us along the way we might still be walking along that highway. My savior today was the Sports Basement and almost two hours after I started I set out again for my inaugural ride. After surviving the first downhill without any parts falling off I made it over the bridge, through the tunnel and when I hit the trail on the other side I finally had my Huck Finn moment. I sped up the trail yippin’ and hollerin’ as I passed by wildflowers blooming on the side of the trail, turkey vultures soaring overhead, a couple of wild turkeys walking across the trail and even the Oracle team boats practicing for America’s Cup beneath the Golden Gate Bridge on the way back. All in all a pretty good ride! 

Today I learned a valuable lesson: maybe there is a reason these bikes are not available in stores. In Zambia, I was fooled once by the promise of adventure offered by a cheap ride and today, well, the jury is still out as to whether I was fooled again by BikesDirect.com…we’ll have to see how many repairs are needed over the next few days and weeks!

Is life imitating art?

This truck caught my attention this afternoon. A beat up old rig with a barred window trailer that looks a little like some kind of combat vehicle from a post-apocalyptical sci-fi movie, probably used for transporting the criminally insane or carrying out top secret medical tests. So I went downstairs to investigate further. I found no corpses, aliens, prisoners or biohazards, only that the truck belongs to JSA Cone Penetrometer Testing Services, which kind of sounds like it could be any of those things listed above. But it turns out they will soon be carrying out 20 foot deep soil drilling tests in our parking lot to learn more about how to stabilize the buildings during earthquakes. It’s the Presidio Trust’s latest round of “improvements” for the Baker Beach neighborhood. What does that mean for the full time resident who works nights and weekends? Endless construction at the end of which, they raise your rent. Boy, I wish my life could have been improved sooner!

I suppose the neighborhood does need some work though. While I joke about living in “the projects” this neighborhood is very much a public housing project, technically a public/private project. It was built in the 1950s under the Wherry Act, named for Nebraska Senator Kenneth Wherry who introduced a bill providing for private companies to build, maintain and rent out housing on military bases. This tradition continues today with our landlord, the Presidio Residences, a subsidiary of the John Stewart Company, but I digress.

While I enjoy the views, scenery and wildlife it also hard to miss the peeling paint, cracked concrete and dead grass I see out this window as well. I don’t think there have been any “improvements” made in the last 50 years. In fact, the Army didn’t even want this place.  One historic account states, "The Presidio considered the Wherry housing to be below army standards and...in 1961 the Presidio drew up a long list of the buildings inadequacies: too crowded, rehabilitation too expensive, the light frame construction, bedrooms and storage areas too small, kitchens crowded, electrical wiring inadequate, utilities undersized, and they lacked sound proofing."

At roughly the same time Paramount Studios was building Jimmy Stewart’s apartment complex for the movie Rear Window. At the time of its completion it was the largest indoor set ever built by Paramount Studios. Buildings were 5-6 stories tall, containing 31 fully furnished apartments with electricity and running water. Actress Georgine Darcy, who played “Miss Torso” actually lived in her apartment during the month-long filming. That way she could relax as if really at home in between takes.

Miss Torso

So maybe the apartments featured in the movie Rear Window and the ones featured in the blog Rear Window aren’t all that different, except that if there had been cone penetrometer testing services being performed at Jimmy Stewart’s apartment building, it might have been a lot less suspenseful movie. I wonder what they will find buried in our courtyard?

Life is full of important decisions...

...like who to leash. This week I pose a simple question. Hypothetically speaking, if you had a dog and a child and you saw these two signs walking down the street, which would outrage you? Which, if either, would you obey?

                      

Some say that dogs actually outnumber children in San Francisco. I'd say they might outrank them too so it’s no surprise there has been such outrage and protest over new stronger leash laws proposed by the National Park Service here in the Golden Gate National Recreation Area. But where is the outrage over the situation pictured below?

It might be a little difficult to see because it was taken through the screen window but clearly the dog has no leash but the child does have one! This was one of the most amazing things I've ever seen in my life. Who's in charge here? Is it the dog, ordering these two shackled humans to march ahead of him? Is it the woman, who trusts the dog to follow by walking ahead of it? Is it not possible to teach a child the same trick? Or is it the child, successfully demanding and receiving the adult's full attention?

Most everyone in San Francisco is aware, opinionated and vocal about the new leash laws for dogs so I started wondering what these same people think about child leashes and what they might think about the above photo. Google “child leash” and you’ll get a wide variety of content from websites that sell child leashes to parenting blogs vehemently arguing both sides and even a disturbing video on YouTube of a mother literally dragging her child through a Verizon store. Even Bay Area company (and Bay to Breakers sponsor but we’ll save the rant on that controversy for another day) Zazzle.com, sits on the fence by selling t-shirts to those on both sides with slogans like “Free the leash kids” and “Please support child leash laws”. So, at least here in San Francisco, it seems that everyone can agree that leashes are bad...for dogs...but for children?…well no one is too sure about that. 

Why did the heron cross the road?

Once in a while you see these guys standing like statues at Crissy Field but it’s far less common to see their giant wingspans soaring right over head. Such was the case on Monday when a Great Blue Heron landed on the street below my bedroom window. I was on the phone with my thesis adviser at the time so I couldn’t immediately drop everything to grab my camera for a picture. I kept one eye on him as he continued walking around, taking those odd, stalking steps and I started thinking this was too cool to pass up. I was faced with quite a dilemma. Do I focus on the important phone call or get my camera and take a picture of a bird?

I think I did what any reasonable person and dedicated student would have done. But lest you think I’m the only one fascinated by this bird's harrowing walk across Stilwell Road, check out the photo below. Notice the heron nearly camouflaged in the foreground to the left of the tall green bushes and the neighbors at the window.

Once I got off the phone with my adviser, I checked the Wikipedia entry on Great Blue Herons (as per my wildlife spotting protocol) and it turns out they are not just big or great or blue but pretty interesting too, especially when it comes to their diet. They eat mostly fish but also other little critters they come across like crabs, turtles, frogs, even small birds and rodents. That’s good news because last week a letter came in the mail saying, “as part of ongoing pest control, the Presidio Trust will be placing trap boxes in your neighborhood in an effort to reduce rodent populations.” So why did the heron cross the road? To take care of that rodent problem, I hope.

Spring Arrives with a Song

Last week I returned to San Francisco from a weekend down in Tucson, AZ.  My friend Angie is (presumably) still down in Mexico relaxing in the shade of cacti, and my old pal Drew continues south vagabonding through South America. Well, as everyone was heading south this little guy was passing us in the other direction.

                                                             Barn swallow on fire escape

Not the best nest photo but you can see the swallow in the upper left of the photo. That was a close call!

I noticed these swallow nests when I moved into this apartment at the end of January but was disappointed there were no swallows to accompany them. Then, all of a sudden, about two weeks ago they were everywhere! The barn swallow, as I now know, winters in South America and flies all the way to my window here at Baker Beach to officially announce the arrival of spring.

If you recall last week’s mention of the Salton Sea, barn swallows and other migratory birds rely on the Sonny Bono Salton Sea National Wildlife Refuge during their long journey north. The males arrive first, finding their nests still in good condition waiting for them in the stairwell right outside my front door. These sturdy mud pellet homes just need a little touching up each year so that everything looks good when the females arrive. One nest can last 10-15 years! That’s a lot more durable than the furniture I buy at Target. 

According to Wikipedia, swallow pairs mate for life but it’s kind of an open marriage as “extra-pair copulation is common”.  So while these pleasant song birds mark the coming of spring, one can’t help wonder what stories of sex, lies and betrayal they may also be singing about. What might the conversation be in the photo below? Two old friends catching up? The timeless art of seduction? Or two jealous rivals staring each other down?

I think it's two males

All I know is that their presence means that summer is right around the corner and that means yet another, “Summer of Eric”. If you’re unfamiliar with the “Summer of Eric”, it was a cross country drive named for the “Summer of George” Seinfeld episode and not unlike Chevy Chase’s quest to reach Walley World. You can catch up at http://www.summeroferic2010.blogspot.com/. While there are no cross country drives planned for this year there is a 4^th of July BBQ down the shore, August in Alaska and a September trip to Spain. And of course, like all the young and hip kids in their “mid-20s”, I’ll be taking these trips with my parents. So now that spring is officially here, what are you planning for the summer?

A Window in the Sky

In my first blog entry I explained the premise behind Rear Window, that I’d be sharing observations, musings and photos of interesting things I see out the window of my own apartment. I know it is early in the life of this blog to start making exceptions but I saw so many interesting things out the window of my United Express flight from San Francisco to Tucson this weekend I had to make the exception.

In Edward Abbey’s The Monkey Wrench Gang, George Washington Hayduke laments (among other things) that “the ultimate goal of transport technology is the annihilation of space, the compression of all Being into one pure point.” In other words, it’s not about the journey, it’s about the destination. When we sit back, relax and enjoy our flight we are really doing the exact opposite. We are going to great lengths to distract ourselves from the fact we are speeding along at 400 mph, 6 miles up in the air over some of the most stunning cities, beautiful nature and shocking environmental impacts. The conventional wisdom seems to be that there is no value to looking out the window to make these observations. Most everyone is reading the newspaper, trying to sleep and/or desperately waiting to be told they can power up their electronic devices.

Because I usually prefer the freedom of the aisle seat I typically fall in with everyone else. The goal of most flights is to kill time as efficiently and ruthlessly as possible until we arrive at our destination. This time though, I had the window seat. I decided to make it about the journey, enjoy the ride, look out the window and see what I could see. I was not disappointed when we took off to the north, banked over the city of San Francisco to turn south, and were greeted with the most magnificent aerial view of the bay, the bridges, Alcatraz and the unfathomable density of the city juxtaposed with the undeveloped park land all around. The captain announced we’d be flying south through the Central Valley, over Palmdale and across Blythe into Arizona. This info, along with my photographs would later help me identify places we passed along the way.

I didn’t have my camera at the ready so I didn’t get a shot of San Francisco but I did get this nice one of Monterey. If you look closely you can see the homes of Clint Eastwood, Jennifer Aniston and my roommate, Allison Bernhardt.

Before long we were cruising over the high peaks of the San Gabriel Mountains in the Angeles and San Bernardino National Forests. It was quite striking to look around the plane to see people reading, sleeping, and watching TV on their iPads when you could glance out the window to see 10,000 foot snow covered peaks. I know certain honeymooners who would pay a fortune to cruise over such peaks for just a few minutes in a helicopter.

Next I saw this lake and thought it looked familiar. Google Earth later confirmed it is indeed Lake Arrowhead, where my friend Andrew lives and patrols the surrounding national forest as a law enforcement officer. While I admired the serene beauty of the mountains from above I also reflected on the fact that in those mountains were poachers, marijuana fields planted and guarded by Mexican drug cartels and dozens of land management controversies. Not too much time to ponder though because quickly the scenery was changing again.

I was pretty sure this was the infamous Salton Sea. I first learned about it through the documentary, Plagues and Pleasure on the Salton Sea. Check out the trailer for a good look at how the Salton Sea was once a thriving resort area, became an environmental catastrophe and how Sonny Bono tried to save it.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QqMFYGhySpA&feature=related

Just outside of Tucson is the Asarco Mission Complex, a pit mine that produces 400 million pounds of copper annually. Apparently, copper prices are high right now and Asarco wants to expand this mine because some of its others are too close to Saguaro National Park for further development. (See njbookwoman for more on Saguaro). There might be no greater enemy to monkey wrenchers and other environmentalists than the “extractive industries” but I’d like to think that Hayduke would at least be pleased to know that someone appreciated the landscape and contemplated the issues on the way from San Francisco to Tucson.

During a one hour and thirty-six minute flight I saw one of America’s most beautiful cities from a perspective few ever see, I saw friends’ hometowns, some of the largest mountains in California, and some of the environmental impacts man has made in this area of the country. So, go ahead, ask me how my flight was and we could spend hours discussing any of these topics I learned about just by looking out the window.  Next time you board a plane or get in the car for a long drive I encourage you to try to forego the modern conveniences and distractions. Be attentive, aware and one with what is happening and you just might be surprised by how much you see.

I don’t plan to always write so much so thanks for reading! Tune in next week when I’ll introduce you to some of our new neighbors who once lived at the Salton Sea.