Cutting video to music is one of my favorite things to do. The challenge here was to make the birds dance to the music. It's subtle, but if you follow closely, I think you'll see it's fairly close. Enjoy.

Around the feeder

Continuing with our themes of climate change and an uncertain future, I’ve been reminded lately of an old film, “The Day the Earth Caught Fire” (1961). The movie made an impression on me when I first saw it, and it continues to resonate after repeated viewings through the years. Although its premise is somewhat far-fetched, it’s a well-told tale of dystopian science fiction; literate, sophisticated, mature, all atypical characteristics of the genre. To its further credit, the film has a clearly anti-establishment agenda, with especially pointed disdain for nuclear testing.

Here’s the plot in case it's been a while since you've seen the movie. Unaware of each other’s plans, the United States and the USSR test two atomic weapons of incredibly destructive force simultaneously. The resulting explosion shifts the earth off its axis by a few degrees, leading to severe weather and catastrophic climate change. The only way to avoid a worldwide extinction event is to blast more nukes on the other side of the world, hoping that the explosive force will knock the earth back onto its original axis.

The film ends on an uncertain note, closing with a scene in a newspaper print room where two versions of a front-page have been prepared. One headline reads “World Saved,” the other “World Doomed.” The film ends without revealing which one will be published.

Picture of the sun taken from our backyard in Sunnyvale, California, September 2020.

There's a definite pattern emerging here on the west coast. We were always aware of the dangers of wildfires, but like earthquakes, they seemed so infrequent we could overlook them for the time being. But the occurrence of wildfires in California has increased to the point that it is no longer something that can be compartmentalized. What makes matters particularly ominous is that these frequent wildfires are clearly linked to accelerating climate change.

These thoughts have crossed my mind now that I'm approaching retirement and must decide where I want to spend the rest of my life. I naturally assumed that that place would be California. Now I'm not so sure. There are actual health risks someone of my age must consider. And there is the increasing disappointment of watching the California dream disappear behind a thick veil of smoke.

I purposely settled in northern California rather than southern California because of the difference in air quality. Of course, there were many other factors behind my decision to settle in the San Francisco Bay area, but the clean air and temperate climate certainly had a lot to do with it. Now I'm faced with making a decision about staying or moving I never thought I would have to make. I may have to accept the reality that I'm simply one of this planet's many inhabitants who has been forced to move due to climate change.

Stay tuned...

and Vote Blue, y'all.

White Sands National Monument, Alamagordo, New Mexico

Santa Fe, New Mexico

Chaco Canyon National Monument, Farmington, New Merxico

Great Sand Dunes National Monument, Alamosa, Colorado

Sawtooth National Forest, Galena, Idaho

Date Palms, Indio, California

Cottage by the sea — in Carmel-by-the-Sea, California.

Mid-winter beach scene — in Carmel-by-the-Sea, California.

After the storm — in Carmel-by-the-Sea, California.

Sandworm — in Carmel-by-the-Sea, California.

Whale watchers... — at Point Lobos State Natural Reserve.

Moby rock... — at Point Lobos State Natural Reserve.

Underwater abstraction... — at Point Lobos State Natural Reserve.

McWay Falls — at Julia Pfeiffer Burns State Park.

Catching some rays... — at Elephant Seal Rookery.

Trump and Nancy discussing the shutdown, while Mitch looks on with feigned indifference... — at Elephant Seal Rookery.

Much of what I’ve seen of the state so far has been pretty grim, but that will probably change over time. Idaho seems to be something of a cross-bred region, somewhere between the Pacific Northwest and Rocky Mountain states, but with a peculiar identity of its own. It has a large population of Mormons who constitute a powerful, majority voting bloc, which I suppose accounts for the state’s ultra-conservative politics.

The only town in Idaho of any appreciable size is Boise, the state capital. Boise is undergoing a bit of a boom right now. Oddly enough, it reminds me a lot of Atlanta in the 1970s, when burgeoning Atlanta was called the "capital of the new south." Perhaps Boise has become the "capital of the final frontier."

Boise is attractive to young families and escapees from less affordable parts of the country, especially California. The influx of Californians into Boise has become both an inside joke and a cause for alarm among the natives. Property values are of course skyrocketing, and it's evident that the inherent nature of the place is changing as well. Prior to all this growth, Boise was primarily a college town—Boise State University is one of the city’s largest employers—but it was a college town with a rural feeling. And of course, as is typical of state capitals, there was little to no night life with a downtown that was mostly deserted after dark.

But all that is changing rapidly. There is constant, ongoing construction of high-rises in the downtown area, and there is a much more cosmopolitan feel to life on the street. Fortunately, even with all the development, there is a 21st-century-outlook on planning for sustainable growth while maintaining community cohesion. Boise frequently appears in top-ten lists for favorable quality of life, much to the chagrin of long-time residents who, in their attempts to discourage newcomers, often make exaggerated claims about the pitfalls of living in the area. Probably to little or no avail. Growth is inevitable, even here on the final frontier.

Tasha, the expert tree climber...

Tasha and the elusive butterfly...

Tasha's fountain... 
Ruff...

Rustoleum's lofty perch...

Rustoleum on patrol...
Squirrel-proof bird feeder...

Thirsty bird...

Loveliest of trees, the cherry now Is hung with bloom along the bough...

And stands about the woodland ride Wearing white for Eastertide... Now, of my threescore years and ten, Twenty will not come again... And take from seventy springs a score, It only leaves me fifty more... And since to look at things in bloom Fifty springs are little room... About the woodlands I will go To see the cherry hung with snow. Rhyming couplets are from A. E. Housman's "A Shropshire Lad." little tree, big rock... rice-paper parosol... Photos taken at Hakone Gardens, Saratoga, California.

City Lights Bookstore — at Broadway & Columbus, San Francisco.

Lawrence Ferlinghetti, born March 24, 1919 in Yonkers, New York, opened City Lights Bookstore in 1953. City Lights Press was the first to publish Allen Ginsberg's Howl (1956), resulting in Ferlinghetti standing trial on obscenity charges. After a lengthy trial Ferlinghetti was acquitted, paving the way for publication of other controversial but important works of literature. The poetry room at City Lights Bookstore.