Tag Archives: trash

Sunday Nature Call, Uke 23: What the Romans Left Us

Sunday Nature Call, Uke 23: What the Romans Left Us; or, The Emperor’s New Clothes

Rescued by a Søndags tur one more time, thank you Norway. I was certain that I would have scored some new birds with a week in Rome but no such luck. My last day in Italy held out for a morning stroll through a sea-side grassland reserve: hopes were high. Alas, my epicurean adventures the day before kept me prostrate and near the lavatory Friday morning. When in Rome?
New birds:2, Journey to date: 73 (I double-checked the spreadsheet, 73 is correct)

Rødvingetrost (Turdus iliacus)

Varsler (Lanius excubitor)

 
What the Romas Left Us; or, The Emperor’s New Clothes 

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Poppies grow among the ruins, The Forum

It is easy for people to ask what was the neatest-most impressive-coolest-

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Street cleaner truck passing, seen through the bars of our window

significant…thing you saw in Rome, or name the major city of your choosing. Around the dinner table after our Latin holiday I asked the gang what was something unsual or unexpected that really would stick with you. My better half noted that everywhere you walked there was some amazing old building or church, that you just couldn’t get away from the history. The boys noted in turn that observations commensurate to their ages. I said I will always remember the street cleaners that didn’t clean. The little machines prowled the cobble block streets regularly but appeared to move around more trash than they picked up.

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Street scene, Trastevere. Rome

The Romans left a civilization in full. Rome was cluttered with the detritus of ancient urban life. The streets were bathed in horse urine. The alleys had the sick, rats, and other discards of life. Walls were adorned with paint but also graffiti. Leather sandals protected feet, canvas awnings protected heads, and wool tunics protected the rest.

A day’s worth of weather over the course of 1,500 years has left us with the lithic bones of the Romans. Thunderstorms erased the equine traces. Rats, roaches, and deluges cleared the old squatters to make way for the new. The paint that laid claim to a vibrancy of life weathered away, limestone, marble and bare brick remain. Leather, canvas, and wool turned to dust and became soil that became new life that died and continued the cycle.

What the Romas left us was enough of the civilization to appreciate it but not much that condemns our temporal existence. In that respect they really are dead. Will our posterity think so neutrally of us? I regret not.

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Flowers and litter, all wait at the bus stop. Fiumicino

It would be a rich problem to complain of a trip to Rome. There’s an expression in Norwegian to that affect but I can’t recall it (hint-hint faithful readers for a helpful comment :). I enjoyed my time in the Eternal City, the Colosseum was spectacular. But as an environmentalist and non-recovering litter-picker-upper, Rome made my head spin.

IMG_2911While Meghan looked up and marveled at the buildings and architecture that spanned two millennia, my eyes kept returning to the un-mortared joints of the cobbled streets, in place of the cement was a seemingly permanent array of cigarette butts, small plastic spoons from gelato sales, and other plastic waste ground into the gaps. Yes, Trevi Fountain was nice.

 

IMG_2763I was ready to be amazed by the ruins and monuments of Rome, and I was. The guided Vatican Tour was a 4+ hours and grueling but incredible. Walking the Forum grounds was surreal and a privilege. And resting in the easy morning light of the Pantheon with my family was the best. Yes, I was impressed as predicted.

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Ubiquitous mopeds, sans catalytic converters, Trastevere

However, I was not ready to see what the current residents and guests have done to the place. The smell of engine exhaust was a constant an unwelcome companion. The roar or din of traffic was the soundtrack for the journey. My eyes were scarred from the sight of garbage strewn about and a green Tiber River. The environment made me feel uneasy and left a bad taste in my mouth.

 

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Tiber River from Ponte Sisto

I shutter to think about how they will speak of us in another thousand years. I have visited beaches in the lovely Oslo Fjord where the sand and gravel appear equally mixed with plastic particles, some large, some small, all on their way to becoming smaller but never going away.

Near my Iowa home is a nuclear power plant. Its deadly waste may outlive humanity, “temporary” storage on the grounds is common. People complain about nuclear waste and wonder why there is no permanent storage. Seems like logic should have necessitated building the storage before creating the predictable waste. A moot point.

Short-term and long-term futures are at hand. Too many of our modern day emperors and their democratic shadows have robbed themselves in ideologies that defy science or even their own rhetoric. Donald Trump claims that Global Warming is nonsense yet tried to build a seawall to protect his golf course from just that effect. Norwegians bemoan the fouling of the ocean with trash and yet continue to pump petroleum that gets turned into little gelato spoons and all things plastic. Governor Branstad says Iowa water quality is a source of pride, his Secretary of Agriculture (and land stewardship) claims voluntary efforts are working and the water is getting better. The Iowa Department of Natural Resources issued a warning to boaters and swimmers: expect a record year for toxic bluegreen algae.

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Quotes of beatitudes abound, “‘Leave no trace,’ ‘First, do no harm,’ ‘Treat your Mother well,'” etc. We need expressions that dig more sharply at our modern ego-centrism. My submission: Do you want to visit this place in 1,500 years to be impressed?

Looking up, looking ahead, and keeping my pencil sharp.

The Sunday Nature Call, Uke 8: Old Friends in New Light

The Sunday Nature Call, Uke 8: Old Friends in New Light

I took a last chance walk with Owen to find some new birds. Owen insisted on pitching every stick he found on the trail into the woods, heaving snowballs at imaginary targets, and singing an American song with Norwegian words he was inventing on the spot. I was trying to walk quietly and look for birds.

Still, I will take a noisy walk in the woods any day with my son sans birds than a walk alone in an avian paradise. A father only gets so many walks with a boy, every one is precious. I’d like to think Mother Nature rewarded my patience with a brace of new feathers, but I think I just got lucky to have my cake and eat it too.

New birds: two

Fuglekonge (Regulus regulus)

Flaggspett (Dendrocopos major)

 

Old Friends in New Light

It was easy to spot the black hair tie on the dark dirt trail at this time in the afternoon. The angle of the sun exaggerated the relief of objects on the ground. Other human debris littered the trail, I plucked the band. I had to walk about another 100 meters on the trail until I can upon the ubiquitous green trashcan, I walked with it on my extended left index finger as if I was a human ring toss target. The bin had a couple of beverage cans, wrappers and assorted filth, in went the hair tie too. I make a point to pick up some trash on every nature walk I take. I have never seen someone do that in Norway, I’ve been looking.

My return to Stavanger was a chance to revisit several cherished spots, including two lakes: Stokkavatnet and Mosvatnet. I have reported previously of how Stavanger weather is remarkably moderated. It may have been the middle of February but greenery abounded and ice was in short supply.

My run around Stokkavatnet was more pleasant than my first in October. One, I knew where I was going, there is comfort in familiarity. Two I didn’t get rained on.

I saw many of the same birds in the same spots, the Golden Eyes were particularly nice to see in greater abundance than my last sighting. In “Happy Duck Corner” I spied a small grebe. My stopping to stare caused it to change direction and swim into the reeds. Clearly accustomed to bodies in motion, it was uncomfortable with bodies at rest especially when accompanied with a stare.image

The following day I walked around Mosvatnet with my binoculars with the express purpose of picking out birds, especially hoping to see the sister of that grebe. There were no new birds, but the familiar Tufted ducks in breeding plumage were a treat.

The low light made the drakes absolutely radiant. Oh, that I could ever look so fine in a suit. The hens as well exuded a more comely appearance than one should expect. The golden rays of the sun rebounded from their eyes when they drew near. Their stares caused me to pause.

imageTime spent in nature is renewing. One reason is that the experience is always new. The trail may be the same; the same trees and birds, you wear the same coat. But it’s also always new. The time of day, the wind, the sounds, and your mood. Each facet makes for a novel experience. I don’t know what makes the difference for you. For me, I pay attention to the angle of the sun, it helps me see old friends in new light.

Looking up, looking ahead, and keeping my pencil sharp.