The Omnivore's Dialectic

      There are few professions accorded as little credit in the world of academia and business as motherhood. Oh certainly, people recognize and appreciate that you have “sacrificed your career” for your children, that you have “given selflessly” of yourself to create that most enchanted and enduring period of childhood for your own offspring. More often, motherhood and child-rearing are an onus to be explained away and overcome, like a stint in jail or a period of unemployability due to a highly contagious social disease. Rarely, though, does anyone consider your time spent in child-rearing and ask, “What have you learned?” 

 

      And the lessons are many. I myself learned that while I am of relatively little use in disciplining my children, I am a rather capable dog-trainer. I learned to make a German sourdough with wild yeast. I learned to plaster walls. I studied up on sustainable agriculture and organic gardening, tested my soil, made compost, and raised a garden. I learned about fruit tree diseases. I learned to grow enough to share with the bugs, the raccoons, the deer, and the ducks. I learned about frustration and triumph. And I learned the art of manuevering through rapidly changing and partially-informed opinions, with a minimum of tears and screaming—either my own or that of others.

     Because tearing of hair and condemnation seem to be the tone set for the argument between “conventional” farming and “sustainable” farming. The choices that we as omnivores face—collectively--seem to be bringing out the infant on both sides, and frankly, I'd like to set both sides in time out. I have no doubts about the truthfulness of the statements made; both sides are correct on many counts. I absolutely believe that both sides are heavily invested—both monetarily and emotionally—in the argument; that's clear from the vitriole. 

      I come from a family of arguers. My mother hated it; she would get sort of red and shrill whenever the four of us kids began one of our legendary arguments. Before long she would have composed a long list of outdoor chores for us, the most dreadful ones she could supply: shoveling out the barn, fixing fence, restacking the hay. She didn't realize that, to us, an argument was amusing. Hell, we lived in the country; what else did we have to do except argue with each other and have rotten tomato fights and jump off the barn roof? Actually, she didn't know about that last one. But it always began when one of us made an inocuous statement of opinion; another would disagree, rather more strongly, and in a few minutes, a raging debate had begun on, say, the relative probability of being killed by my sister's rotten clutchwork whilst driving us to school. As a mother, I can attest to the wearisomeness of listening to this, but the adrenal rush of the fray is not to be denied.

     A better question, though, might be: What's the cost of the argument? For every Tony Bourdain there is a Steven Best, for every Michael Pollan a Blake Hurst. For every one of my sister's protests that she is a “just dandy stick-shift driver,” there is my own unflagging protest that no, in fact, she is not. And the truth, as it often is, rests somewhere in the middle, quietly going on with daily life, as it often does, with some days being a little bit more progressive than others. Michael Pollan proposes some rather radical ideas—let's be completely honest. A corps of local meat inspectors? A strategic grain reserve? I can get behind it, although I feel that the regulation of such endeavors might stop them before they even get started. Restructuring American public school lunches?? Now you're really messing with tradition, friend. I can almost hear an entire nation, voices lifted together as one, “If I had to eat that god-dang tuna casserole, then my kids do too!” It isn't that school lunches couldn't be better—because we all know they can't get a lot worse—but it goes so far beyond lunches to changes in curriculum and, even worse, a reallocation of budget. Again, governmental regulation may ruin this otherwise good idea; school lunches are a money-maker for public schools catering to children in poverty. This needs to stop, but only if done in a way that actually benefits the child, and not the school alone.

     Blake Hurst, however, doesn't have all the answers either. He claims that technologically driven, fossil-fueled agriculture has kept food prices low, something that Americans will not be willing to give up. However, Darrin Qualman, in his chapter in Writing Off the Rural West, talks about the overall impacts of hog “megabarn” farming practices in Canada. The book contains this chart:

The gray lines at the bottom show the price of pigs per pound—or what the farmer is paid when he sells the live pigs. The black dots at the top represent the price of pork chops on average across Canada. The chart covers 1976 to 2000. Here we see just how illogical Hurst's argument is: consumers are NOT paying less for food because of technological improvements or vertical integration of farms; in fact, they're paying more. And neither are farmers earning more—in some years, they're earning even less. As Alan Guebert points out, Hurst is farming because there is (at least some) money in it.

     Hurst continues on by calling Mathew Scully's denunciation of animal cruelty a “move toward vegetarianism” (2). Quite simply, it isn't. It is, in the end, a rejection of the idea that we can distance ourselves from the inherent violence against animals that eating meat entails. Scully advocates for animals to live natural lives, to be unstressed and healthy, and for mindfulness. He writes, “Whenever we are called to decide the fate of an animal, the realism comes in at least facing up to the price of things whenever man with all his powers enters the pictures. It requires discernment and care and humility before Creation. It means understanding that habits are not always needs, traditions are not eternal laws, and the fur salon, kitchen table, or Churchill Room are not the center of the moral universe” (45).

     This “facing up” is something that more and more of us are having to do. Barbara Kingsolver writes of having to face up in her chapter “You Can't Run Away on Harvest Day.” Hurst rationalizes: animals want protection from predators, they like their barns, they're too stupid to live; in fact, this argument was addressed directly by Scully in Dominion. Kingsolver, however, makes no such claims. Domesticated livestock are, she realizes, as many of us realize, humanly constructed. We have bred them to be as they are—and because of this, we must, for our sake and theirs, harvest them when it is practical and best to do so. Population dynamics—our own and that of the farmyard populace—must be obeyed. However, Kingsolver and others like her – Lierre Keith, Wendell Berry, Wes Jackson—realize that domesticated animals are a part of the farm life cycle, a human-scale life-supporting ecosystem in which we care for the animals and plants, the animals graze and fertilize the plants, the plants feed us and the animals, and round and round we go, on contemporary sunlight. The differences between these people and Hurst is one of tone: Hurst hectors the reader with his rights to farm in any way he wishes, with a minimum of toil to feed a hungry world; the others concern themselves with a smaller scale, feeding themselves, their families, their communities, knowing that with stewardship and mindfulness, feeding the world will come in time.

     The thing is, none of these people are wrong. Blake Hurst is correct that some baby pigs will die as a result of a ban on gestational crating. Mathew Scully is right that gestational crates are cruel for the adult pigs. Steven Best is right when he says that pigs are happier outside crates, free to run and graze. Tony Bourdain is right when he says that pork is delicious. Barbara Kingsolver is right when she says that butchering day is difficult emotional and physical work. Lierre Keith is right when she writes that, whether we are vegans or eat meat, our diets are comprised of a thousand little killings, that things must die for us to eat.

     But they are also wrong—all of them. Because there is not one system of agriculture, not a one-size-fits-all diet. Wes Jackson said in a speech that so many of our problems, from agriculture to obesity to fossil fuels, stem from the fact that we are borne of poor people set down on a continent of seemingly endless bounty. We think that we can farm more, farm bigger, farm better, forever and ever, ah-men, when perhaps, Kingsolver, et al suggest, the paradigmatic shift from growth economy to developed eonomy is preferable in the long run. We don't know, because we in America have not tried it. Can we learn to grow our own food again? Can we know the provenance of our food (and still eat it)? Are we willing to accept seasonality and regionality and yes, maybe even scarcity, in our food? Will scarcity increase value, and will value in food mean a return to a simpler time and simpler pleasures: a family dinner? Establishment of local food culture? Mindfulness? I think it can.

     But first, we have to learn to talk, exchange ideas on the nature of farming and the myriad ways in which farming can transition from industrial to sustainable. Blake Hurst has a good point: villainizing farmers will not change the status quo. Similarly, however, demonizing hippie “agri-intellectuals” won't change things either. Believe it or not, you folks are not that far apart: you want to raise food—good, healthful, nutritious, delicious, and affordable food; you care about the land; you care about families, your own and others'; you care about the animals; you care about the ethics of what you are doing. But the way in which you each try to shout the other down—in the interests of being right? In the interests of selling a book?--well, it's just maddening. The confusion created for the public by such varied opinions—because that's all they are—is detrimental to the idea of effecting real agricultural change. So you lot, there . . . you just hold your horses. I think I have some chores to keep you busy.

Works Consulted

Berry, Wendell. “Conservationist and Agrarian.”

“Best, Steven.” Wikipedia entry.

Bourdain, Anthony. Kitchen Confidential. New York: Harper, 2001.

Guebert, Alan. “Guebert: Farmers Aren't In It to Feed the World.” Springfield News Sun. August 2009.

Hurst, Blake. “The Omnivore's Delusion: Against the Agri-Intellectuals.” The American(July 2009).

Jackson, Wes. Consulting the Genius of The Place. Counterpoint, 2011.

Kingsolver, Barbara. Animal, Vegetable, Miracle. New York: Harper, 2007.

Pollan, Michael. “Farmer in Chief.”

Qualman, Darrin. “Corporate Hog Farming: the View from the Family Farm.” Writing Off the Rural West: Globalization, Governments, and the Transformation of Rural Communities. Roger Epp & Dave Whitson, eds. Edmonton: U of Alberta P, 2001, 21-38.

Scully, Mathew. Dominion: the Power of Man, The Suffering of Animals, and the Call to Mercy. New York: St. Martin's, 2002.

So What's the Big Deal with Nine-Mile Prairie?

        The disappearance of a major natural unit of vegetation from the face of the earth
        is an event worthy of causing pause and consideration by any nation. Yet so gradually has the    
        prairie been conquered by the breaking plow, the tractor, and the overcrowded herds of man…   
        that scant attention has been given to the significance of this endless grassland or the course of 
       its destruction. Civilized man is destroying a masterpiece of nature without recording for 
       posterity that which he has destroyed. ~ John Ernest Weaver, North American Prairie (1954)

Nine-Mile Prairie, so named by Weaver because of its proximity to downtown Lincoln, Nebraska, is a 230-acre relict prairie owned by the University of Nebraska Foundation. After the Foundation's purchase in 1983, the prairie has been leased by the University of Nebraska for research. Nine-Mile Prairie is home to 392 plant species, more than 80 bird species, and two rare species, the Western Prairie Fringed Orchid (Platanthera praeclara) and the regal fritillary butterfly (Speyeria idalia) (“Overview”). As one of only a handful of unplowed prairies left in the U.S., it is fitting that we begin this paper with Dr. Weaver's thoughts. As a pioneering researching on the tallgrass prairie, Weaver was in a unique position to study prairie ecology and plant communities before and after the threat of urban encroachment. His research sets a benchmark for prairie restoration practices, and Nine-Mile Prairie was one of the prairies where he began his work. To prairie researchers, this site of early research is special. However, Nine-Mile Prairie has been, and continues to be, threatened by the slow but relentless encroachment of a sprawling city.

For my Master's Thesis, I am writing a collection of literary essays and poems featuring Nine-Mile Prairie; in the many hours that I've spent in the past year at Nine-Mile Prairie, I've had ample opportunity to ponder both the beauty of the undisturbed landscape and the very visible threats to that ecological system. In this paper, I have attempted to locate published scientific studies that support my view that Nine-Mile Prairie's biggest threat is part and parcel with what makes it so special – its ease of access and nearness to Lincoln itself. Part literature review and part call to action, my aim is to expose the logical fallacies in public policy that allows for the continued dismissal of Nine-Mile Prairie as a valuable ecological resource – both for habitat and for research.

Perhaps the first thing a visitor notices about Nine-Mile Prairie, and really any prairie preserve, is the wide open space, the grass that stretches to a seemingly unreachable horizon and beyond. Nine-Mile Prairie, from some areas, remains that way. However, increasingly, the vista itself has been closed off. To the south, a recently constructed house – McMansion style – sits atop the next hill. Slightly to its side is a blaze-orange and white water tower. Newer still than these are the recently erected high-voltage towers, carrying energy to the outer edges of Lincoln. Though not raised high in the air, the concrete bunkers behind the chain link fence on Lincoln Airport Authority land to the north and west of the entrance gate to the prairie also detract from the prairie view. And though these are modern intrusions that interrupt our musings on the prairie, those intrusions themselves matter little. It is the things that they signify that matter a great deal, if we are to preserve Nine-Mile Prairie in perpetuity.

Perhaps the most persistent threat comes from Lincoln Electric Service. In 2005, in spite of public appeals for an alternate route, LES installed a 345 kilovolt line along approximately half of the southern border of the prairie remnant (Laukaitus, 20 October 2005). This particular piece of line is problematic for scientific study. James Locklear, chairman of the management committee for Nine-Mile Prairie wrote, in a letter to the Lincoln Journal Star, “Utility right-of-way management typically relies heavily on herbicides, and drift or runoff of such chemicals could have devastating effects on the integrity of the prairie as a scientific resource” (28 August 2005). Unlike Konza Prairie's Long Term Ecological Research projects, which are self-contained within individual watersheds, any interference along the southern border crosses watershed boundaries and compromises any longitudinal research. Several studies on the prairie fringed orchid suggest only very specific herbicides and application patterns are allowable without affecting the reproduction of the orchid (Erickson, et al., 462). At this point, LES rights-of-way crews must be trained according to prairie management guidelines, in order to avoid a disastrous accident happening to an already threatened plant species.

Perhaps more troubling are LES tactics and expressed views of the prairie. Ron Ecklund, LES board member, interviewed by the Journal Star in 2005, considered Nine-Mile Prairie to be already compromised, saying “buildings and fences there are a 'detriment.'” His claims that the prairie is “rarely used” is not only telling, but it is incorrect (Laukaitus 10 October 2005). Locklear's letter of August 28th, records numerous visitors from around the country but does not mention classes or researchers that are regular visitors to the prairie, yet Ecklund was quoted as saying, “We can spend more than $1 million to build a power line and directly affect several families, or we can build a power line that won't affect anybody or research at the prairie,” (Laukaitis 10 October 2005). At the risk of reading too much into this statement, it smacks of anti-intellectualism; a research site isn't really good for anything, in the opinion of the board, and certainly LES cannot quantify the commercial value of preserving the prairie.

This insistence that no real harm is being done to research or the prairie is irresponsible and short-sighted. In fact, limited amounts of studies have been conducted on electro-magnetic fields' affects on prairie species. A 1998 study of birds nesting under power lines suggests that reproductive success is affected; statistically significant differences exist in both egg size and volume and in numbers fledged (Doherty & Grubb). A 2005 study by Pittman et al. suggests that lesser prairie chickens – an at-risk grassland bird species – avoid manmade obstructions and intrusions, including power lines and electric motors; the study also shows a low 26% nest success rate. The authors of the study have not yet concluded the extent to which this avoidance contributes to the nest failures, but study continues and certainly bears consideration. Considering that electro-magnetic fields are used as pest-deterrents, especially on nuisance bird species in urban areas, it seems unlikely that these fields have no affect whatsoever, as Ecklund suggests.

Many species of birds, insects, and nocturnal animals can be affected by the light pollution that results from development. Clemson biologist Sidney Gauthreaux explains that migratory species are especially susceptible to confusion due to light pollution in urban areas. He attributes this to “positive phototaxis," which may cause birds to inadvertently navigate toward light (in the absence of visible constellations) and then become confused and traumatized, possibly resulting in large die-offs (Bower). A 2002 conference featured numerous studies that demonstrated the effects of light pollution on lake invertebrates, insects, owls, and even plants (“Abstracts”). I have not found data on measured light at Nine-Mile Prairie, but my own experience there tells me it is significant, especially as it relates to a research area. During the times when I have visited the prairie at night – weekly from August to November – the eastern half of Nine-Mile Prairie remains at a level of lighting that renders the use of a flashlight unnecessary for walking, navigating, or even operating cameras and recorders, even on cloudy nights and nights with no moon. Because no studies have been done on light pollution with pre-existing base numbers, it is difficult to ascertain the true impact of this factor.

One primary contributor to light pollution is the Lincoln Airport, located just to the northeast of the Nine-Mile Prairie site. However, that is not the Lincoln Airport Authority's only contribution to the prairie. The many flights in and out of the Lincoln Airport daily, including military flights, are both low and loud, approaching as many do from the northwest of Nine-Mile Prairie and landing on a diagonally-oriented runway. The Airport Authority has proactively adopted a noise corridor zoning standard, designed to prohibit, with limited exceptions, the development of land that falls within the highest noise corridors around the airport and its approaches (“Appendix E: Suport [sic] Documentation”). This, however, privileges both the population that lives in surrounding areas and the Airport Authority itself, as it wishes to mitigate possible settlements due to noise. Their policy of maintaining noise to just these levels seems self-serving; however, in all fairness, the noise resulting from round-the-clock flight arrivals and departures and the subsequent Airport Authority zoning restrictions have worked, to a certain degree, in Nine-Mile Prairie's favor., because the prairie is buffered by a large section of Airport Authority land, which appears to be managed grasslands. This is land that would, in all likelihood, be in demand for housing and potentially light industry/retail applications, but due to the zoning restrictions, these have not been possible. Again, noise surveys have been conducted by the Airport Authority with regard to housing, but impact studies have not been done with relation to animals in this setting, and further study may be needed to find which, if any, species are affected by regular engine noise.

This large buffer zone is important, I feel, because a managed grassland – even if it is not native prairie or managed in quite the same way as Nine-Mile Prairie (some areas appear to have significantly more invasive native plants like sumac) – is far less likely to become a problem neighbor by harboring exotic species. A housing development would be significantly more likely to plant easily spread exotic plants and/or trees. By definition, housing development disturbs the soil, requires infrastructure such as roads, power lines, water lines, and sewers, and that those types of disturbances give invasives (both native and exotic) a foothold in areas where native grasses had previously kept them out. Once established in disturbed areas, they are able to make inroads into native vegetation (Larson 317). An unrelated study using Old-World bluestem species suggests that native grass species cannot compete against some exotics and will eventually be crowded out if exotics are permitted a purchase (Schmidt, et al., 69). These studies support what many farmers, ranchers, and range managers already know: that soil disturbance never immediately resumes its prior plant community; instead, weedy species and pests predominate for years without induced succession.

One possible exception to this generalization of threat from suburban sprawl may come from new genetically modified organisms. A recent finding in Oregon shows the difficulty in containing these GMOs. Genetically altered creeping bentgrass, designed to be RoundUp ready for use on golf courses, “escaped” from research test plots and genetic traces could be found in other grasses as far away as thirteen miles from the site, more than 25 times the expected distance of drift expected by the researchers (Pollack). Though the numbers are small, it bears consideration that this is a GMO that has not even been made available to the public, and yet it has already had this type of “accident.” If this is eventually approved by the government, the potential for genetic hybridization with native species seems nearly inevitable, and the result is, at this point, not certain. This is especially concerning, considering the Airport Authority's disallowance of residential housing; a golf course could potentially be a reasonable use for just such land without the LAA fearing litigation or complaints. Normally, writes Pollack, the biggest threat of GMOs is the creation of a “super-weed” that is resistant to existing herbicides; the U.S., in the past, approved only grain crops as GMOs – crops that have “no weedy counterpart.” This grassy GMO, however, could not be defended in that way.

With only approximately 2% of the nation's historic virgin prairie left, it is difficult to watch as it is assaulted from seemingly every quarter by people attempting fiduciary reductionism. While it's unrealistic to ask city and county agencies and utilities to expend millions to protect Nine-Mile Prairie, advocates for the prairie have seemed to be quite careful to give thoughtful and reasonable alternatives to infringing on the site; often, it seems as though impositions are made simply because they are easier, especially when Nine-Mile Prairie does not involve private property. In spite of many defenders from the community, the Wachiska Audubon Society, and the University, it seems that the voice of Nine-Mile Prairie is often lost in the argument over development. Most concerning to me, though, is the disregard for science and research that is shown when making policy in Lincoln. In spite of Lincoln's Comprehensive Plan which quite clearly states the city's objectives to “protect unique, rare, threatened or endangered plant and animal species . . . maintain, preserve and enhance existing native prairie . . . and preserve . . . significant ecological resources,” the simple fact is that when making policy and planning decisions, the responsible persons appear to give little credence to published scientific study and they have not been required to complete environmental impact studies at the local or state level (74). My hope for the future of Nine-Mile Prairie is that, through strong University and Audubon leadership, a renewed emphasis on research and science may be presented to local agencies wishing to further develop immediately surrounding the site. In this way, I believe, prairie management can argue successfully against commercially-driven development without resorting to emotional appeals that are, at best, only modestly successful. Though I am one of Nine-Mile Prairie's most heartfelt champions, you “can only fight fire, with fire,” and only hard facts and figures will impact policy makers. That being said, I would call upon our professors and students to pursue, document, and publish Nine-Mile Prairie research that specifically deals with the urban sprawl threats, in order to strengthen protections for the site.


Works Cited

“Abstracts.” Urban Wildlands Group. 2002. Web.

“Appendix E: Suport [sic] Documentation for Land Use Regulations Within and Below 65DNL.”

Coffman Associates Airport Consultants. Lincoln Airport Authority. n.d. Web.

Bower, Joe. “The Dark Side of Light.” Audubon Magazine. 2000. Web.

Doherty, Paul F., Jr., and Thomas C. Grubb, Jr. “Reproductive Success of Cavity-Nesting
       Birds Breeding Under High-Voltage Power Lines.” American Midland Naturalist 140.1
       (1998): 122-128. Web.

Erickson, Ann M., Rodney G. Lym, Don Kirby. “Effects of Herbicides for Leafy Spurge Control
       On the Western Prairie Fringed Orchid.” Rangeland Ecology and Management 59.5
       (2006): 462-67. Web.

Larson, Diane L. “Native Weeds and Exotic Plants: Relationships to Disturbance in Mixed-Grass
       Prairie. Plant Ecology 169.2 (2003): 317-333. Web.

Laukaitis, Algis. “LES Board Avoids Nine-Mile Prairie But Not Entirely.” Lincoln Journal-Star.
       10 October 2005. Web.

---. “LES Board Oks Power Line Near Prairie. Lincoln Journal-Star. 20 October 2005. Web.

Locklear, James H. “Letters, 8/29: Preserve the Prairie.” Lincoln Journal-Star. 28 August 2005. Web.

“Overview.” University of Nebraska-Lincoln: About SNR. 2011. Web.

Pittman, James C., Christian A. Hagen, Robert J. Robel, Thomas M. Loughin, Roger D.
       Applegate. “Location and Success of Lesser Prairie Chicken Nests in Relation to
       Vegetation and Human Disturbance.” The Journal of Wildlife Management 69.3 (2005):
       1259-69. Web.

Pollack, Andrew. “Grass Created in Lab is Found in the Wild.” New York Times. 16 August
       2006. Web.

Schmidt, Cheryl D., Karen R. Hickman, Rob Channell, Keith Harmoney, William Stark.
       “Competitive Abilities of Native Grasses and Non-Native Grasses. Plant Ecology 197
       (2oo8): 69-80. Web.

The Launch

This week, I am officially launching prairieartproject.com, (the site, as opposed to the blog). The website will focus more closely on prairie, on writing, than does the blog, and it allows you to view the photos and poetry in a whole new (and, I think, fabulous) way. There is also additional content--links to scientific and theoretical work, reading lists, etc.--that will be of interest to fans of the prairie.

I hope you enjoy it. I'm excited to hear what you think.

Tracy

Platte River Prairies - October 6th, 2011

After months of being cooped up in my fluorescent and climate-controlled (but not by me) office, I finally had the chance to escape to the prairie. The occasion was the visit of Guy Fitzhardinge and Mandy Martin.


Guy (environmentalist and rancher and witty guy) and Mandy (brilliant artist, teacher, and editor) live on and manage several Queensland cattle ranches and have collaborated on a book. While visiting the University of Nebraska, we were able to take them to The Nature Conservancy's Platte River Prairies, a series of retired croplands which have been recently restored to prairie and managed with fire and patch grazing.
Chris Helzer, the program director at the Platte River Prairies, has a fantastic blog that I've followed for some time. He features stunning photography and keeps me current on prairie research, as well as helping with some of my more notable insect identification gaffes.

Joining us on the hike were Dr. Tom Lynch, who teaches Environmental Lit at UNL, one of his undergraduate students, Benjamin Vogt, a writer and native prairie gardener, and my trusty co-conspirator, Aubrey Streit-Krug, an instructor and ecocritic, also from UNL.



In spite of rainy and subdued skies on the trip out to Wood River, we enjoyed a lively discussion of American agriculture. Guy and Mandy were somewhat surprised to learn that most of the crops they saw growing and being harvested along the I-80 corridor--corn and soybeans, mainly--were not, in fact, going toward human consumption, but rather to feed animals or produce fuel. The fecundity of our Great Plains soil is quite different from the old soil of Australia, Guy says, and it does beg the question of priorities, when we use it to fuel our car culture.



By the time we arrived at The House (which serves as offices for the Platte River Prairies staff), the skies had cleared, a terrific wind was blowing, and we set off across the prairie.

How about this one??? After a year of tromping around 9 Mile in hopes of spotting an orchid, all it took was a two hour car ride and a prairie restoration (instead of a relict prairie) for me to see one :D

Chris showing us some Rough Rattlesnake Root -- I love this picture.

The Nature Conservancy is also working on a project adjacent to the prairies, restoring a stream that became a lake due to gravel mining. In only a few years, the birds are back, the fish are back, RIVER OTTERS are back! This is a gorgeous site, even still under construction. I can't wait to go back and see it when it's finished.

The Long Hot Summer

After feeling certain that death was imminent at any moment in the past month due to my recently realized allergy to 100° + temperatures, finally we have a break in the weather. And it's about damn time. When it's over 100°, my daily routine is to get up, walk outside with the dogs, become nauseated by the humidity, and beat a hasty retreat into the house. Being forced outside -- especially if the trip involves great physical exertion like opening the mailbox, bending to pull a weed, or pushing the shutter release on the camera -- requires a full change of clothes and a 2 hour afternoon nap. Needless to say, my creativity and ambition have shriveled alongside my less hardy flowers and herbs.

In the middle of the night recently, though, I was awakened by brilliant flashes of far-off lightning, noiseless and remote. I stood in the yard in my underwear -- good evening, Mr. Daubendieck!!! -- and took long exposure shots of the lightning that was tearing up something two counties away, sweating and being needled by unseen mosquitoes. The results were interesting; this summer has been devoted to using manual lenses and manual settings and forgiving myself for technical imperfections in exchange for atmosphere. I proudly give you the resultant photos:

2nd Annual Fairbury, Nebraska Bull Bash, Photos Part 2

I'm just a teensy-weensy bit disappointed that I heard neither Garth Brooks's nor Chris LeDoux's rodeo songs, but other than that, so far Bull Bash was the highlight of my summer, at least photographically. The vibrant colors of the chaps and shirts, the flying sand, the smell of the horses... I've been away from that a long time. It was nice getting back.

One not so nice thing is the crazy slow uploads of these photos :) The editing has been done for a while; I just put off posting because it is time-consuming and irritating to wait for the uploads.

FotoMoto and My Love/Hate of Beta Testing

You may have noticed... I hope you noticed, maybe, or maybe I hope you didn't notice because it's fixed now, but the FotoMoto links for Buy Download Share on photos is not working this morning. I hope you noticed because you use them religiously... I hope you didn't notice because I'm g*ddamned sick of that not working!

Don't get me wrong, I am kind of in love with FotoMoto and its slick operation. I just put a tiny bit of code into my blog posts and—like magic—the links show up under my photos. Like magic, you can click on a link to share it on Facebook or buy a print or download. Like magic, I get an email and you get your print. Like magic. And just like h*cking magic, I can't figure out (and neither can they) why sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn't. And because this is a free service they offer, I feel just a little bit like a jerk for complaining that my free service doesn't work about 5%-10% of the time.

If you've needed to order something and couldn't, please contact me via email and I will find a way to make something happen. And if you didn't but just noticed the links were not there (or you wondered what I was babbling about, all this Buy Share eCard crap that's nowhere on the posts), feel free to drop me a line so I can report problems. If you do that, you know the drill—browser, OS, date/time. Thanks for being patient with my janky beta-test support services.