Tag: Nature

Preparing for Tsunami Warnings: Lessons Learned

 Emergency Warnings – Tsunami 

A week ago, we were all a-twitter. You see? We received a tsunami warning. There had been a 7.0 earthquake in Northern California – about 3 hours north of where we live.

We technically live not near the coast but we are quite close to the bay in the Bay Area.

This was the first tsunami warning we had received. So, while the tsunami warning made sense, we also had no idea on what to do with it. So, we did the only thing that humans in modern times do: Took to the phone and tried figuring out what others thought.

What is a yellow warning? We live a few miles from the shores of the bay – could that mean a sudden inundation?

Responding to Warnings

There are times when mass communications (by that I don’t mean communicating to the masses, I mean masses of communication) make sense, but this was not one of those occasions. Everyone said different things, people worried. Staying away from the bay seemed like a good option, but apart from that, no one had any idea on what to do. Should we head to the hills like we’d read long back somewhere?

So, we all did a lot of hand-wringing and sent more messages. Ultimately, the tsunami warning was revoked, but not before letting us know exactly how unprepared we were in case of a real emergency.

When that alert had come it was up to us to determine the next course of action. For one thing, we were a couple miles inland, so what was required of us? That’s when I realized the old fears I had for our little family when we both worked on the other side of the bay. I had wondered what might happen in case of an earthquake that stranded us all on the other side of the Bay. But a Tsunami could just as well have done that. 

The tsunami warning was lifted, and in a few hours, people went about their business as usual. Which is to say traffic snarls were everywhere, week-end parties and events did not bother to acknowledge that which could have been life altering.

It is a testament to the human temperament that we can so flippantly treat that which could have been a disaster with a wave of the hand. 

🦌 Emergency Drills -Earthquake, Fire 

I volunteer in elementary schools from time- to-time. The experience is a wholly enriching one as I get to work with children – which is refreshing. They are inventive, imaginative, kind and un-jaded in their outlook towards life.

I got to experience an earthquake and fire drill with them one day, and I cannot tell you how impressed I was by their skill and competence. Even when scrambling under desks – they looked out for each other as much as possible. When they filed out into the fields nearby, they kept to their classrooms and straight lines, and I was more than impressed by them on more than one occasion that day. 

I had seen firsthand how incompetent adults could be, when the tsunami warning came, and it was refreshing to see children knowing how to handle fire and earthquake warnings.

I suppose natural disasters are called that for a reason. They are erratic, chaotic, and tend to surprise humanity every time even with emergency warning systems, safety drills and the like. The school systems managed to highlight these things and taught me a thing or two: keep calm and fall back upon training.

Nature’s Ephemeral Splendor: Winter’s Whimsy

Winter is taunting in its loveliness.

The Thanksgiving break breezed in and breezed out – with a whirl of color, warmth of friends, and the whimsy of the winds. Cooking, baking, singing, dancing, playing, hiking, walking, admiring – all the wintry delights we’ve come to associate with the holiday season were there, and I wished for the same for every one of us. 

Our friends, who had visited us from Seattle, had us smiling as they exclaimed each day, “Oh – it is so beautiful to see the sun shining like this!” They purred like contented cats in the sun, and we went on many little and long walks to take in all of this.

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I glanced at the beautiful trees overhead and sighed a little today – December is already here and though the rains are keeping away, I knew the beauty of the fall leaves is already fast diminishing. Why does fall – one of the favorite seasons of the year have to be ephemeral?

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Well, all glorious periods are ephemeral aren’t they?

I suppose philosophers would say that beauty lies in the ephemeral nature of it, and I agree. I have never felt more content than when looking up into a tree that is gloriously sporting all colors in its beautiful foliage – green through maroon, or while gazing into the golden benevolence of a gingko tree. 

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However glorious days bring with it a problem – that of summoning up the determination required to stay indoors and doing work while all of the world outside beckons you to celebrate with it? How does one ignore the joyous swooping of a California blue jay?

Well, one doesn’t.

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November’s Purpose

The world seemed to be buzzing with purpose, and I set out thinking about lofty human ‘angsty-things’ as the children called it too. What was our purpose – is there such a thing? Did ducks, hawks, deer, dogs pander after silly existential questions? We would never know!

It was a beautiful November day – one of those days that poets and artists can spend all their lives dreaming about. It truly was a delight to step out into the sparkling cold air, raise your head to take in the glorious panorama of the skies above through the glorious reds and yellows of the maple, beech, sycamore and willow trees.

As long as autumn lasts, I shall not have hands, canvas and colours enough to paint the beautiful things I see

– Vincent Van Gogh

The yellow leaves were looking golden in the sun’s rays, and the reds were nothing short of royal. We took a dozen pictures but knew there was nothing to be done but to sit and soak into the world around us. So we did.

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I set about closing my eyes to try and capture the day in my memory under a particularly fetching set of trees – it was after some time that I found myself called back by a bird. It wasn’t the shrill call of the california blue jay or the titter of the wrens, or the frenzied call of hummingbirds. Curious, I opened my eyes to see which bird it was. Imagine my surprise when I saw it was a woodpecker. It swooped low by me and flew to an adjacent clump of trees, and I followed as silently as I could. Though I realize that for birds and animals I must sound like a stampeding rhino. 

There – up above the smooth branches of some beech trees were a whole family of woodpeckers. They weren’t hammering their heads as they were known to do. The baby woodpecker’s downy feathers were still growing, and the sight made my heart still – more effective than any form of meditation I have ever attempted. 

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It was like an invitation to witness the simple pleasures of nature on a glorious day. I don’t know how long I stood watching the woodpeckers, but the head’s questions of purpose and meaning seemed rather meaningless just then, for the simple beauty of being alive on a beautiful day like this and being able to bear witness to the passing seasons with a heart full of gratitude felt like purpose enough.

Hum of Chitter-Chatter

I’d had a trying sort of morning – my attempts at speaking had come to nought. I was speaking English, folks around me were not. I asked for chips, they told me it was several hours for nightfall. I asked for honey, I was given a shrug and a look reserved for the village fool. I left the chips and honey – life is great without chips and honey, thank you.

So, I veered off civilization and went off to moon in the woods.

It isn’t often that we stop to revel in the orchestras of everyday life. That morning I did. When I did, I found myself transported. I had rarely seen this many hummingbirds together in one place and the noises they were making chittering together was music. What were they saying to one another? Were they discussing plans for the day? 

I smiled and reluctantly moved on – human beings had meetings of their own didn’t they? 

A few days later, I stopped listening to the chatter of the crickets starting up in the evening, even as the sun dipped into the horizon bathing the skies in robes of pink and orange. The deer grazing glowed, the blackbirds fluttered while singing, but the crickets were the loudest of them all. Enough to make you stop and wonder what they must all be saying to one another.

I exchanged glances with the son who’s come on a stroll with me, and we headed back musing.

Later we had a frenzy of celebrations planned – gatherings and people. I stopped to listen to the chatter around me. It was a feeling – not voices that I heard. It was a festive occasion, so all I heard was a pleasant hum – interest, friendship, camaraderie, laughter. 

What is it about communication that enthralls us so much? I remember reading a short story by Louisa May Alcott a while  ago in which a young girl acquired the ability to understand animals and birds for a short period of time. She is baffled to realize that they can actually communicate amongst themselves as well as amongst other species. A woodpecker could talk to a squirrel and understand each other perfectly. So, they could unite and we wouldn’t have a clue.

It was a beautiful touching story, for it helped me laugh once again at our own follies. It would serve us right if that was truly the case – too smart for our own good, but all the time being pitied by the wiser creatures of the Earth. Between all the languages we’ve managed to create as humans, it is truly humbling if that were the case. (No mishaps with honey and chips I assume.) 

It also made me stop and wonder what animals hear when they us jabbering. Many times on my walks, I come across people talking shop – serious talks on finance, technology trends (I live in the Bay Area – it is a way of life – you can’t throw a stone in any which direction without someone yelping ‘AI’ – whether as an expletive or not), movies, music, other people, offices, sports, etc.

What must they make of it? I wonder.

Nyctinasty Flowers’ Lessons

I could barely stay indoors. You see? The day had started off with a mild drizzle. After what felt like months of sunshine, a little bit of moisture felt amazing. I stood outside peering up at the clouds – in itself a rarity now given how parched things get during Californian summers in the Bay Area. Even with summer flowers blooming and vegetable gardens flourishing, I yearn for the simple pleasures of marvelous sunsets, clouds, a pattering of rain, some breeze.

That is perhaps one of the things I miss most about the Nilgiris – the western ghats in South India where the rain drops and eucalytpus provided the backdrop for magic and mysticism. The rains, the clouds, the winds – how in one day you can experience so many different climes and you have to be prepared for it all, and still go about your day.

Nature is Transformative

That evening I said, “Well – come on then! “  hustling everyone out to see the glorious sunset. The clouds had scattered during the course of the day, but there were enough of them still there –  enough to provide crepuscular glory with the rays of the setting sun. Some clouds looked like an artists reluctant brush stroke jostling right alongside the weightier ones. How every evening a different painting is rolled out to us continues to be a source of wonder.

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Art is transformative – so is nature.

It transforms ordinary days into extraordinary ones.

It assures you that normal is numinous.

Nyctinasty flowers

That evening, I took in the deer grazing near the river banks, the rising full-moon swollen, resplendent and beautiful against the setting sun orangish-red and bright. I don’t have to be a naturalist to know that the birds felt it, the deer felt it, the frisky fox felt it, the fish in the river felt it, the  flowers felt it. I stopped to admire everything – especially those that are classified as nyctinasty flowers :nyctinasty flowers like the evening primroses or gardenias  close up for the night. They show you the importance of closing and resting in order to bloom and spready one’s beauty for the next day.

If ever there is an appointment to keep, it is with nature in those moments in the golden hour when all the world is settling in for a quieter pace.

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Sunrises and Sunsets: An Opacarophile’s Notes of Magic

Every time we go on vacation, I proclaim proudly the first night, “I am going to go for a sunrise walk in the morning. Do not look for me!”

It is old hat by now. The children and the husband exchange amused looks and say, “Sure! Of course!” Followed by a chortle of such mirth that it should offend me. But vacations and all that – I let it slide. You see? I am rather a slow starter in the mornings. The caffeine tries, the shower tries, the folks around me try. But it takes a good hour or so before the spirit can rise and shine and birds chirping can become song to my ears and all that.

This time though, I surprised everyone including myself.

I set off on my sunrise, sunset and starry strolls every day I was there. It was marvelous – one morning, I sat trying to discern all the hues and colors in the sunrise, the shapes of the clouds, the fast disappearing mists that were clinging not a moment ago, making way for the humid day ahead of us.

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I could hear my heart rise in song without emitting a single chirp – trying to keep in tune with the little palm warblers, and the mynahs reminding me of a silly rhyme we would chant as school children, giggling ourselves silly every time.

One for success

Two for a toy

Three for a boy (giggle, giggle)

Four for a girl (giggle, giggle)

Five for a letter (we were in a boarding school)

Six for something (can’t remember)

Seven for a secret (Secret Seven By Enid Blyton must’ve inspired that one!)

And on and on, it would go.

I smiled thinking of that rhyme – something I hadn’t chanted in three decades, and yet, it came to me that morning looking at the little birds hopping about the island. The brain really is marvelous. Scents, images, words, phrases can all evoke associative memory – it truly is powerful.

Taking in the slow way in which the island is drenched in its beauty, I walked back to our cozy lodgings, feeling very smug, and proclaiming that all those who missed the sunrise .. well, missed the sunrise.

“The sun will rise again tomorrow, Mother.” the children chorused looking gobsmacked that I had taken a sunrise stroll. 

I somehow managed a sunrise stroll every day that we were there. On the last day, the husband joined me, and the island, to show us how special that was, even greeted us with a rainbow by the Buddha statue overlooking the ocean.

We were quiet for sometime wondering how a simple play of light and moisture can produce something as beautiful as that. Even the birds seemed to have fallen silent. Then the birds chirped, and the husband chattered again. 

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An opacarophile is a lover of sunrises and sunsets

A solist is one who loves events of the sun (sunrise, sunset, eclipse) etc

A heliophile is who loves the sun

A photophile is a lover of light

I feel the importance of this quote – for both sunset and sunrises

“Never waste any amount of time doing anything important when there is a sunset outside that you should be sitting under.” – C Joybell.C

Ooh! The 🐟🐠 O’opu Alamo’o 🐟🐠 & 🌴🎋 The Ohia Lehua 🌴🎋

Shoshin in Hawaii

Friends and regular readers of the blog know the immense peace and satisfaction I derive from the creatures around us. Creatures whose different characteristics serve them well. Some that evolution has equipped them with in order to live and thrive. Patience, perseverance, the ability to soar high while zoning on in the details when required, the ability to look out for one another as a group – as geese do on their long flights, or pelicans on their migrations. To work and play like dolphins and squirrels.

I could go on and on.

Going to a different ecosystem makes us sit up and take notice of all the things that are special to that place. Polynesian islands, or any islands, for that matter have this ethereal quality to their beauty. It is in the tropical colors, the unique flowers that greet us almost as soon as we land in the airports (plumeria in the case of Hawaii), the scents of the island – at once putting a great distance between the mainland and the islands. Floating by themselves in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, these islands, have been written about, explored almost completely, and still holds enough wonder and astonishment for the traveler with shoshin in their eyes.

Shoshin: is a Japanese concept that roughly translates to a Beginner’s Mind, meaning a mindset in which one is eager to explore, learn and stay curious in the world around you.

🐟🐠 O’opu Fish : Stellar Climbers 🐟🐠

Who knew that the humble o’opu fish would take me into streams of new words like: diadromous, anadromous, euryhaline?

Take for instance the o’opu fish. As far as fish go, they are fish enough – they have fins, they swim, and they can fix you with a glassy stare. But then, just when you’re ready to classify them with thousands of other fish in the oceans, they surprise you. They are not just fish in the ocean.

They are also fish in the freshwater streams in Hawaii.

Belonging to a small group of fish with this capability, they are known as diadromous fish – meaning they are comfortable in both saltwater oceans and freshwater rivers and streams. The O’opu aren’t just diadromous fish, they are also anadromous  ( the more famous anadromous are the salmon) – meaning they swim upwards to the fresh waters to breed their young.

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The O’opu fish have the remarkable ability to adapt to different salinities in water conditions. They also, and this is where I stood transfixed, can scale waterfalls of 400 feet upwards – we saw the waterfall they go upstream of (Akaka Falls) from a distance, and it took my eyes a few seconds to take the height of the waters in.  These little goby fish, manage to scale these falls by sticking to the slippery rocks faces behind the waterfalls, in order to lay their eggs and ensure the next generation of  ‘O’opu ‘alamo’o are born.

Now, I am not sure how different this is from, say: a gobi desert dweller living and thriving in the tropical rainforests of the amazon, but it seems like a pretty good comparison to make.

🌴🎋 Ohia Lehua Trees : The Resilient Pioneers 🌴🎋

The next day, we found ourselves huffing and puffing up a small-ish hill to take in the crater of the Hawaiian volcanoes national park. (It is not a steep climb if you’re wondering). As a small group of tourists jostled around the forest ranger to listen to her talk about the volcanic national park, another unlikely specimen grabbed our attention. The short, stubby, but thoroughly resilient Ohia Lehua trees. These trees are apparently the first ones to seed life post a volcanic event. Given that volcanic ash can be quite the problem to a breather,  if you’re wondering how the little trees breathed, it is because they have the unique ability to close their  stomata for up to two weeks.

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Quote from the website:

https://www.usgs.gov/observatories/hvo/news/volcano-watch-lava-loving-ohia-lehua-a-pioneer-plant-peril

The tree has a superior capacity for extending its roots vertically and can grow efficiently in cracks and fissures. ‘Ōhi‘a also have the capability to close their stomata, or breathing pores, so the trees can “hold their breath” when toxic volcanic gases are blown their way.

The Ohia Lehua trees and the O’opu Alamo’o fish are the stuff of Hawaiian legends.

Nature truly is a wonder marvel!

Reference links:

Beauty in the Eyes of the Beholder

This was an idea for a children’s book and also a pair of creature glasses that I wanted to make: You could choose the animal in your app settings, wear your glasses, and voila! You would see the world around you as the animal does:  an ocular device that transported you into the alternate reality of that creature. But as most good ideas of mine, they festered in a document of Potential Ideas.

So, I was intrigued when I saw this book in the library. 

Eye By Eye – Comparing How Animals See – By Sara Levine, illustrated by T S SpookyTooth

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Even as you open this whimsical book, you realize that seeing the world like we do can be a unique gift. That is not even considering perspective, personality and all the rest of it: just the ocular aspect of it. 

How would an animal with eight animals see the world? 

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A Spider’s Vision

The illustration of a woman bespectacled in all 8 eyes is endearing, but it does make you think of a spider.

A Spider’s Vision

I noticed a spider has really taken a liking to our car’s external rear-view mirror. Everyday, there is a fine web spun there – I wonder whether the little creature sees itself spinning its beautiful web, and admires itself for it. 

What if you had six eyes, one located at the end of each of your six arms?

Shapes & Colors

The book not only considers creatures with differing number of eyes, but differing eye shapes as well: like that of an owl.

Pupil shapes matter – goats have rectangular pupils. ( I confess I have looked into the eyes of plenty of goats and never noticed this.)  Cuttlefish’s pupils are W-shaped.

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Small hexagon shapes in an eyeball ( like in a bee hive?) Well, flies have that.

Then we come to colors, but we can have colorful differences in our outlooks as well. Butterflies and hummingbirds, we have known for some time, see the world very differently than we do. As do dogs, and cats.

So, whether or not I make those creature glasses or some company comes up with such ubiquitous VR that it seems like it was always there, it is a fascinating world out there. Go outside and imagine life as a hummingbird, or a jellyfish. Glasses or not, your thoughts will transform your mood.

Embracing the Tranquility of a Summer Evening

The day could have been better. My to-do list gave me reproachful looks all day long as I took care of many different things and accomplished nothing. It was time for this and time for that, not yet time for this-and-that, and oh-so-past-the-time for this-or-that. Finally, I wrapped up for the moment and headed out. It was a beautiful summer evening after all, and moping about not doing the work was not going to get it done. 

That’s how I found myself that beautiful summer evening, doing yoga in a friend’s garden that she had kindly invited us to. The sun’s rays danced through the maple leaves in the west, the mild breeze provided much required respite and made the italian cypress trees in the east look like they were dancing and swaying to the breeze too. 

The pink bougainvillea in the south leapt from fence to tree with such freedom of spirit, that I couldn’t help feeling a bit wistful at not being able to boldly leap and catch hold the way those plants did. How did creepers know whether they’d make it to the next branch? There must be a bold vision and a willingness to let go of safe harnesses that we never really stop to think about. I wonder how that feels – it certainly seems to be something we struggle with as adults more than as children. 

To complete the bucolic yogic scene, was the neighborhood black cat. Well-fed, preening its coat, gleaming in the evening sun and stretching every now and then to show us what a good stretch looks like, she lay there looking perfectly happy with the way her evening was going (or her days were going) by the looks of it. 

I told my friends about the state of to-do-ness that had ailed me that evening, and how the evening completely transformed it. My friends seem to have been in similar states of mind – and it all came spilling out the moment I said so. 

We smiled and drank in the scene: The cat did not care, the trees continued to sway, the leaves shone and the parched earth settled down to a cooler evening, the birds above made their way home. The purpose of life was right there, for those willing to take it.

The best part of the evening was the various angles from which we took in the garden – upside down, sideways. While breathing hard, while taking deep breaths. I tried taking the picture of the garden upside down, but of course all our tools seem to want to correct all our ‘mistakes’ and would not allow me to. So, I rotated the pic manually to retain the beauty of the world seen upside down.

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Dancing in the wind, with the sun on my face.

Playing hide-and-seek and eating a treat.

It reminded me of Dr Seuss’s quote on looking at life

Fantasy is a necessary ingredient in living, it’s a way of looking at life through the wrong end of a telescope, and that enables you to laugh at life’s realities.

Dr. Seuss

Not Pristine, Prim, & Proper!

The week-end was marvelous. The 4th of July week-end usually is. Summer is in full swing which means long days, and flowers bursting forth everywhere. This time, it also meant waterfronts and beaches with the children in tow. 

One day, as we walked on the beach, playing with the little waves against our feet, stopping to pick a shell here, and a conch there, I reveled in the ordinary happiness that a simple day like that gives. 

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We saw teenage boys play spike ball for hours on end, little children squeal and run to and from the waves, sand castles being built, and surfers ride the waves again and again.

One child was picking up wet sand to return to the ocean, and squealed when the sand squirmed in his hands, and went running  back to his mother.

An inflatable giraffe that did not look happy out in the ocean. The ridiculousness of finding a giraffe bobbing in the waves was enough to get people to laugh.

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I usually am not in favor of crowded beaches, but that day, it felt good. People watching felt lovely. 

The son and husband were covered in sand building their little sand castle with a moat around it, tunnels through them etc. I had taken several walks letting the waves splash around me, and the sea looked amazing. The day was not too hot, and the waters were not too cold. The beach was noisy, but not too loud. The people themselves were in various states of imperfection – In other words, it was perfect.

It all felt all the more special because I had an excellent book to read at the beach. The daughter had her trusted ‘The Summer I Turned Pretty’ trilogy with her. It was a bit dog-eared, but she looked at it fondly and said, “That is exactly how a beach book is supposed to be. Not pristine, prim and proper.” 

I threw my head back and laughed so hard at that. “That should be the theme of our day here, huh? Not pristine, prim and proper.”

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As we made our way out of the beach, we looked like a good hosing down would do us all good. “But before that – some gelato!” said the husband, and we all hailed our hero as we made our way to the little gelato store with brilliant flavors and fantastic names for gelato explorers.

What are some of your favorite beach reads, and beach activities?