Thank God We Have Email Now

It's not the most efficient medium, but it's damn poignant:

TOKYO (AFP) - A letter that a young girl in Japan sent into the sky in a balloon some 15 years ago has been found on a fish hauled from 1,000 metres (3,300 feet) below the Pacific.

A fisherman found the still legible piece of paper sitting on a sticky flatfish in his catch on Thursday, along with a torn-off string and the fragment of a red balloon.

Read the rest.

If you want to leave a comment, I suggest you don't liberate a balloon over the North Branch of the Au Sable...just hit the link.

Saturday Clip, 1/26/08

A Brevity cartoon. Still sort of a quote, isn't it?

Wined and Dined, Sort Of

Maybe I really should say I was "beaned." At any rate, I'm being plied with gifts from those wishing to sway my vote for a new department-wide textbook this spring.

I'm on the committee charged with deciding on a new book for my university's freshman writing program, which means about 2,000 sales for some lucky publisher. We'll make our choice soon, so we're receiving lots of calls, emails, and handwritten notes from hungry publisher's reps. And yesterday, when I went to my mailbox, I found a Starbuck's gift card, courtesy of McGraw Hill.

Before I went to graduate school, I was a publisher's rep myself, and a few times I took committees out for dinner, events that tapped my employer for over $200, sometimes. No one has offered us anything like that, but I'm holding out hope.

Actually, I should let on to the reps that I fly fish...maybe I could get a new sinking line or at least a dozen flies out of this business.

And students wonder why their textbooks cost so much...

New Stomping Grounds

During a jog about a month ago, I noticed a small parking lot newly cut into a patch of woods along my road. A sign near its entrance announced that those woods were now part of the Washtenaw County Natural Area Preservation system. Hot damn, I thought. Another place to wander, and a just short walk from home at that. Weather and assorted busyness kept me from getting there since, but with MLK day off and not too much to prepare for tomorrow, I squeezed in a visit after lunch today.

Just in from the parking lot lies a widely strewn, semi-picturesque, collection of refuse.



It's a blight on the land, yes, but when I was a kid it excited me to happen on stuff like this in the woods--not just trash, but shells of old cars, strange implements or appliances, or remnants of buildings. Stories suggested by these finds intrigued me almost as much as most of the natural features I encountered. Now, when I see something like this my initial reaction is disgust, though that often gives way to curiosities about how, when, and why the junk landed there. I wouldn't want to see many of these heaps around the forest, but one or two add historic blushes to the unscenic matter of factness of trees, earth, snow.

Two hundred feet into the woods the trash leaves off and one's attention focuses on a standard collection of southeast Michigan hardwoods: oak, hickory, hawthorn, dogwood, basswood, probably others I'll recognize once trees go into leaf. Shagbark hickories seem more common here than in other local woodlots.


There is, on the other hand, a pronounced absence of pink honeysuckle. This pernicious non-native has clotted many local forest areas, but here they're restricted to the area near the junkpiles---an interesting coincidence. I'll be watching to see if they spread as the area receives more visitors, who unawares may carry seeds into the preserve.

A small creek winds through the woods, emptying into a sizeable wetland.


I trekked into the preserve for nearly half an hour (including stops for pictures) and didn't hit a fence, which tells me it's larger than the forest park (80 acres) directly opposite my house. So for at least the next few outings there, I will find there not just a place but a project; a space not only to walk and see, but to learn and map.

Saturday Quote, 1/19/08

[Z]oos are no longer in people's good graces. Religion faces the same problem. Certain illusions about freedom plague them both.

Yann Martel, The Life of Pi

Here Come de Judge

Yesterday, out of the blue, I was asked to judge the annual writing contest of a regional outdoor writers association. I won't say which one to preserve anonymity (I can see it now... bribes of bamboo rods, bird dog pups, engraved fly boxes rolling in daily...), though its members are widely published.

How did this happen? "We stumbled across Find the River," the man from the writer's association said when he called yesterday, "and we said, by God, that's our judge!"

OK, stop snickering.

Actually, in the past, I've done some volunteer work with the VP of the association, and she remembered that I teach environmental rhetoric and writing and that I have some passing acquaintance with the outdoor sports. So she called and I jumped at the chance. It is an honor, though it's also going to be a lot of work for no cash. I wouldn't be surprised if a number of other people had previously declined the honor. All the same, I'm looking forward to reading the entries and tapping lucky writers for big modest cash prizes.
I can't say I actually dreamed of doing this, though it is like a dream come true for someone who read Field and Stream obsessively as a kid. I can dream retrospectively, can't I?

Vote With Your Fish

Fish are fun to catch and good to eat, but they have also become a weapon of choice in America's Culture Wars. A page at a UK academic's site offers a comic take on this. While this has been posted for a while, the message is (unfortunately) as relevant as ever.

Today, on automobiles all over America, the Fish Wars are raging. On a typical day an early morning commute can turn into a near-religious holy war as Jesus Fish cuts off Darwin Fish, Darwin Fish evolves to make the exit ahead of Jesus Fish, Jesus Fish invokes divine intervention to prevent Darwin Fish from finding the last parking spot. It's a never ending battle and Americans are joining the fray and choosing sides at unprecendented rates.

In true Darwinian fashion, the Jesus Fish has evolved into three separate species. The Plain, or Classic, Jesus Fish is the oldest and the common ancestor of all Jesus Fish. The first branch of the Jesus Fish genus came very soon in the Jesus Fish's history....

The new IXOYE fish was originally developed by writing the letters onto a Plain Jesus Fish. Usually the letters were written with a stick, or scratched into the fish with a stone. (Technical note: Since Jesus Fish aren't bound to Darwinian natural selection, Lamarckian genetics were employed which allowed a Plain Jesus Fish, which had IXOYE scratched onto it, to pass the writing down to its offspring.)...

During the Protestant Revolution, it was feared that each new Protestant group would design its own Jesus Fish. It is not well known but, Martin Luther himself had his own Jesus Fish design. Luther's Fish, pictured below, was sticking its tongue out, as if to say to the Catholic Church "BBLBLBLBLBLBLBLBLBLBLBLBLBLBLB"

The Luther Fish

Fortunately, unity prevailed in Fish design and today, each different denomination of Christianity embraces any of the three Jesus Fish species. The third species, of course, being the English language "Jesus" Jesus Fish which came into widespread use as Americans became more and more ignorant of any foreign language, especially ones with silly letters not found in the Roman Alphabet.

The basic shape of the Plain Jesus Fish can be seen quite clearly in all Jesus Fish species. Biologists and Automotive-ologists have determined that the basic shape of the various Jesus Fish, all have an aerodynamic quality perfectly suited to their environment - riding on automobiles.

Read the whole thing.

View all species in the Jesus Fish genus.

(The FTR Fish)

Saturday Quote, 1/12/08

There's a river somewhere that flows through the lives of everyone.

Roberta Flack

I think most of us have strayed far from its banks.

It's not JUST the economy, stupid...

From today's Detroit Free Press:

Environmental issues important to the Great Lakes are getting little respect and few commitments from presidential candidates. The Free Press sent questions to eight top candidates asking their views on tackling invasive species, fixing global warming, diverting Great Lakes water to parched states and supporting $20 billion in funding to restore the lakes, from rebuilding sewers to repairing wetlands. Only Republican Mitt Romney, a Michigan native, responded...

Michigan Rep. Vern Ehlers and three other members of Congress challenged all the candidates last fall to support the Great Lakes restoration funding and make it a top priority. A package of bills has stalled in Congress and needs presidential help to push it forward, they said.

As of Thursday, only Democrat Barack Obama signed the pledge. Even Romney, the candidate Ehlers backs, hasn't signed. But Ehlers said he was not aware of that Thursday.

"I'll have to bring it to his attention," Ehlers said. "He understands the importance of it."

Read the rest.

At least they haven't lost sight of the really important stuff, like who cries on camera, or who goes to what church.


Meanwhile, some good news broke from the halls of government yesterday...

TRAVERSE CITY, Mich. (AP) — A proposed nickel and copper mine in Michigan's Upper Peninsula hit at least a temporary snag Thursday when the state Department of Natural Resources postponed a ruling on the company's plan.

Director Rebecca Humphries was scheduled to announce whether the DNR would let Kennecott Minerals Co. build and operate the mine in northwestern Marquette County. Instead, she requested more information, a process that could take months. She set no deadline.

The Department of Environmental Quality, the agency that regulates mining in Michigan, granted permits for the project in December. But Kennecott wants to lease 120 acres of state land for its aboveground operations, which requires DNR approval.

Read the rest.

As a DNR official quoted in the article said, "It's a yellow light, not a red light." But it's the first time in a while that regulators have raised any serious questions about the project. Here's hoping Kennecott doesn't have any good answers.

Primary Considerations

I suppose that at this point the last thing the blogosphere needs is someone else nattering about presidential politics, but I feel obliged; I know my readers are awaiting the FTR endorsements to help them choose their candidate. (Hah.) Seriously, even though it's hard to remember a time when a past, current, or future presidential campaign wasn't a major topic of the day's news, it does look like we're entering one of the most interesting primary seasons in years. It's been a unusual season for me as I've thought about my own choices.

I get exasperated when I hear that somebody voted for a candidate because he seemed like "the kind of guy you could sit down and have a beer with." There are a lot of people who are fun to drink with but who I wouldn't put in charge of so much as a yard sale. I want to know what candidates think, what issues are close to their hearts, what their philosophy of governing is. By any logic I can grasp, personal likeability does not correlate with good governance and wise policy. Though I didn't share their view, many people found GWB likeable and...well, we are where we are. When I vote, my feelings about the people running for office matter less than what those people say, do, and believe.

Usually.

I'm supporting Barack Obama for the Democratic nominee. I had been leaning toward Edwards (my 04 primary pick) for most of the last year, but as I looked more at Obama, I decided he was the person I would most trust to lead the country. The person I would most trust. I didn't think he had superior ideas--though I agree strongly with most of his plans and priorities. I'm just impressed by the guy himself.

In a primary, it's reasonable to downplay issues since the leading candidates, at least among the Dems, don't greatly disagree. You more or less need to choose according to personalities. I still admire the populist fervor of Edwards and I respect the competence and experience of Hillary Clinton. But Obama outshines them in his ability to connect with people, his intelligence, and his relative independence from some traditional left-right alignments in American politics. That last is caught up with certain ideas and a philosophy of governing, yes, but the prior two items give me the confidence that he could successfully reach across party lines and arrive at fresh solutions to old problems. I'm sharing no groundbreaking insights into the man here--just my pleasant surprise at liking the guy as much as his platform.

At this point, Obama has been saddled with expectations that no president could possibly live up to. And in the weeks, possibly months to come, his golden boy image will tarnish under exposure to flying mud and blasts of hot air. He'll make his run on feet of clay, like all candidates will in spite of valiant efforts to feign otherwise. But however the race unfolds, I think he'll be running with more heart and more brains than anyone else.

Besides, he's the only candidate who's said a word about protecting the Great Lakes...that alone made me take a longer look at him than I might have otherwise.

Believe it or not, I do occasionally vote for Republicans, although I haven't supported any for president. In the GOP primaries, I like Huckabee, despite his holding some views that occupy a spectrum between goofy and outright disturbing. He's witty, winsome, and genuine on the stump (again...it comes down to personalities!) and, unlike many in his party, doesn't believe the primary function of government is to drip milk and honey into the mouths of people already choking on them.

I'm Shupac, and I approve of this message.

Follow the Star

Yesterday, Christians celebrated the feast of the Epiphany. Epiphany is actually a season of the church year, occurring between Christmas and Lent, which focuses on the beginning of Jesus' life and ministry. Churches kick off the season on January 6 by retelling the story of the Three Wise Men who traveled from Persia (probably) seeking a great person whose birth was portended by a extraordinary star. (This is interesting as the Bible's sole endorsement of astrology.) Believing, for who knows what reason, that the infant Magnificence was the Hebrew messiah, the Wise Men set their course for Judea where, after getting some wary assistance from King Herod, they followed the star further to discover that manger in Bethlehem and lay down their costly gifts.

This is the sort of story that skeptics would point to as an improbable fabrication, and in fact it is quite reasonable to see is as a reworking of earlier literary sources. Several passages in the Old Testament state that kings will bow before the annointed one of God, and one even prophesies that they will give him gold and frankincense (perhaps myrrh was a later embellishment). That heavenly signs accompanied the birth of great men was a commonplace of ancient literature. Then there is the question implied above of why these Magi, who would likely have been Zoroastrians, would have sought out the Hebrew messiah. Were exotic religious pilgrimages undertaken casually at the time? Scholars of near eastern history might have something to tell us about this, but once one intially scratches beneath the surface of the story, the Magi's journey seems as strange as it is inspiring.

But the uncertainties the story raises are precisely what makes it inspiring, I think. The Wise Men didn't know where they were going, exactly, and they may not have known who they were looking for. They certainly couldn't have expected who they found (hardly any of Jesus' contemporaries who turned to him as the messiah did). Yet they saw the star and obeyed its summons.

Most of us feel a lure to some higher degree of spiritual life. Perhaps that life takes shape around some established religious practice, or maybe it simply means a more aware, deliberate, empathetic way of living. Quite often, though, people don't know what it is they seek, only that they desire something more that what currently drives them or fills their lives. In too many cases, such uncertainty ends the search for that "something more" before it begins. It shouldn't.

The answers to our inner longings seldom come at once. But they never come without seeking, asking, and testing. When they begin to come, some particular destination may come into view and we may find guides (who sometimes really are the last people you'd expect) who can speed our progress toward it. To begin with, though, it is enough to acknowledge one's spiritual longings and go where they lead. It is enough to follow the star.

Do Birds Read Blogs?

A day after I post a lament about the disappearance of birds from my feeders, they're back on 'em like cats on a tuna can.

Before the trout opener this spring, I think I'll complain about how fish never strike my flies any more.

Bye Bye Birdies

For most of my life, I've fed birds through the winter. For the last couple of years, I've been lax in that, but this fall I vowed to do it faithfully again. So about a month I repaired some feeders that squirrels had mangled, and bought 20# bags of sunflower seeds and mixed feed, as well as two suet feeders and a squirrel baffle. I dusted off the binoculars, set my Audubon guide on my desk in case I needed to identify unfamiliar visitors, and got ready to welcome the birds back to Cafe Shupac.

Initially, plenty of them came. Starting on the feeders' second day of operation, chickadees, nuthatches, titmice, downy and redbellied woodpeckers rotated through them almost constantly. English sparrows joined the party a few days later, and while I used to look down on these non-natives, I've come to appreciate them. These sparrows are accidental leaders and born followers --they descend on and leave feeders in mobs, and if one flock member starts out to the feeder or back to shelter, most the rest immediately do likewise. If one happens to stay behind on the feeder, then makes a dash for the bushes after the main flock has set out for the feeder again, the entire flock will turn midair and flee to the bushes. One might see in this a manic satire of herd behavior in other two-legged creatures.

Unfortunately, the curtain fell on it and on most of the activity at my feeders about two weeks ago, and I'm not sure why. I saw hawks assault my feeders a few times, albeit unsuccessfully. During one incursion, a hawk plunged deep into a bare forsythia bush, flapping and shaking the branches all the while, trying to pull out one of the many sparrows sheltered there, though it failed. One morning I did find blood on the snow below my sunflower seed feeder--there had been none that morning when I refilled it. Either something got eaten, or I've got a chickadee with colitis. I've seen kills when I fed birds in other locations, though, and feeding continued at its usual pace in the days and even hours afterward.

We had several very damp, mild days followed by deep freezes, conditions which are especially hard on small birds in the winter. That could have resulted in a sizeable die-off, but I've never seen a comparable drop in bird numbers after adverse weather before.

Maybe one of my neighbors has a bigger and better feeding setup.

Birds still come. A small band of chickadees or a solitary nuthatch or titmouse might stop by half a dozen times a day to grab a sunflower seed, but my feeders might go hours without a visit. Woodpeckers and nuthatches still patronize my suet cakes as avidly as before. Those are in a well-sheltered area, perhaps allaying fears of hawks. Snowbirds and cardinals still clean my ground piles in a day or two. But feeders perched on the pole are usually as untroubled as a Michigan trout in January.

When the thaw predicted for the weekend comes, I may have to move my pole feeders to a more protected place to see if it turns things around. I'm missing the little guys.

Transgenics for Trout?

A new science column in the New York Times reports on experiments that use one species of fish to breed another.

[R]esearchers have done a series of transplantation experiments on rainbow trout (Oncorhynchus mykiss) and masu salmon (Oncorhynchus masou) — a pair of species that began to diverge at least 8 million years ago. Their most recent and surprising result is that spermatogonia from rainbow trout will, if injected into the body cavity of a salmon embryo, migrate to the gonads of the developing salmon and colonize them. What’s more, if the salmon is female, the spermatogonia will turn into eggs....

But although the transplanted trout cells obey the instructions they get from the salmon body they’ve moved into, and (usually) become incorporated into that body, the genes inside them are still trout genes. Which means that when the salmon spawned, they produced trout fry.

The lead researcher in this study hopes that the technique can be used to sustain numbers of popular food fish threatened with overfishing. A noble goal, surely, but in my mind, this research inspires fantasies of recruiting abundant populations of rough fish in marginal trout streams to produce more trout. Technologies developed for the most practical ends often do find recreational uses.

Seriously, though, the really interesting part of this is the capacity of the gamete-producing cells to switch gender depending on the constitution of the embryo in which they're implanted. One more case of how our most rock-solid realities prove to be matters of circumstance. Some people find that notion unsettling, though anglers ought to be comfortable enough with it, since in the pursuit of fish, chance, contingency, and randomness are matters of course.

Happy 2008

Good New Year to all.

Snow began falling last night during the final hour of 2007 and kept up until well into the morning. It's nice to see after losing most of our snow to heavy rains the weekend before last.

A few scenes along the road in front of Casa Shupac:




It's wet, heavy stuff, and I spent two hours shoveling my 75' driveway. Anymore, though, I don't mind the routine outside chores as much as I used to. If I can't go have fun, they still give me the chance to get outside and move the body a bit.

As the new year gets started, my efforts at resuscitating FTR continue with Opax joining my stringer o' links. Check it out for sisu-fuelled Finnish fly escapades. Not to mention a sweet link list of its own.