Fukushima, Japan four years on ‘Nuclear power and humans cannot coexist’
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Dear Esteemed CMP Readers and Treehuggers:
I am excited to finally announce the launch of my Nature & Wildlife Photography website: http://www.spersaud.com. My hope is to inspire reverence for our natural heritage and, in so doing, raise consciousness about the necessity of environmental/wilderness conservation.
This week is also National Wildlife Refuge Week:
National wildlife refuges play a critical role in conserving America’s wildlife legacy. They also play an important role in human communities; by providing healthy habitats for wildlife, refuges improve the air we breathe, the water we drink, and improve soil quality and give protection against flooding in flood-prone areas. Local economies also rely on refuges. Refuge return an average of almost $5 for every $1 appropriated. They offer wonderful opportunities to hunt, fish, hike, and share the outdoors with friends and family. [National Wildlife Refuge Association]
Thanks for visiting. Feedback is ALWAYS welcome!
Note: Streets in New York City and other towns are being taken over by marchers Sunday in what will be the largest climate change protest in history. The People’s Climate March is timed to draw the notice of world leaders gathering for this week’s U.N. Climate Summit. As the New York march prepared to get underway at its official start time of 11:30 a.m. ET, protesters elsewhere were already celebrating large turnouts. A Twitter feed at the march’s website showed crowds of demonstrators marching in Perth and Melbourne, in London and Dublin, and in Johannesburg and Tanzania. (NPR)
The numbers are stark: Of the 588 species Audubon studied, 314 are likely to find themselves in dire straits by 2080. Unless, that is, the oil boomers in the Bakken—and everyone else—start to consider the future. Unless we begin to reduce the severity of global warming and buy birds more time to adapt to the changes coming their way.
Global climate is changing in ways not seen for millennia, and we know humans bear at least part of the responsibility. We also know that these changes are affecting animals large and small. For years scientists have been telling us that the ranges of bears, butterflies, and many other species are shifting north and toward the poles; that bird migrations are changing time and course; and that pollinators are trying to adjust to new flowering schedules. These alarming observations are only the beginning.
“The striking puncture in the earth is believed to be up to 80 metres wide but its depth is not estimated yet. A scientific team has been sent to investigate the hole and is due to arrive at the scene on Wednesday.
The cause of its sudden appearance in Yamal – its name means the ‘end of the world’ in the far north of Siberia – is not yet known, though one scientific claim is that global warming may be to blame.
There is additionally speculation it could be caused by a space object – perhaps a meteorite – striking earth or that it is a sinkhole caused by collapsing rock beneath the hole caused by as yet unknown…
Anna Kurchatova from Sub-Arctic Scientific Research Centre thinks the crater was formed by a water, salt and gas mixture igniting an underground explosion, the result of global warming. She postulates that gas accumulated in ice mixed with sand beneath the surface, and that this was mixed with salt – some 10,000 years ago this area was a sea.
Global warming, causing an ‘alarming’ melt in the permafrost, released gas causing an effect like the popping of a Champagne bottle cork, she suggests.”
Banned Ted Talk: The Science Delusion, Rupert Sheldrake at Whitechapel
the idea is that each species, each member of a species draws on the collective memory of the species, and tunes in to past members of the species, and in turn contributes to the further development of the species. So in the case of a potato, you’d have a whole background resonance from past species of potatoes, most of which grow wild in the Andes. And then in that particular case, because it’s a cultivated plant, there’s been a development of a whole lot of varieties of potatoes, which are cultivated, and as it so happens potatoes are propagated vegetatively, so they’re clones.
So each clone of potatoes, each variety, each member of the clone will resonate with all previous members of the clone, and that resonance is against a background of resonance with other members of the potato species, and then that’s related to related potato species, wild ones that still grow in the Andes. So, there’s a whole kind of background resonance, but what’s most important is the resonance from the most similar ones, which is the past members of that variety. And this is what makes the potatoes of that variety develop the way they do, following the habits of their kind.
Usually these things are ascribed to genes. Most people assume that inheritance depends on chemical genes and DNA, and say there’s no problem, it’s all just programmed in the DNA. What I’m saying is that that view of biological development is inadequate. The DNA is the same in all the cells of the potato, in the shoots, in the roots, in the leaves, and the flowers. The DNA is exactly the same, yet these organs develop differently. So something more than DNA must be giving rise to the form of the potato, and that is what I call the morphic field, the organizing field.
~ In the Presence of the Past: An Interview with Rupert Sheldrake
Wrong Turn: Biologist Rupert Sheldrake On How Science Lost Its Way
Morphic Resonance: Rupert’s Resonance, Scientific American
On-line Experiments to Change the World
Rupert Sheldrake Interviews
I cried over beautiful things knowing no beautiful thing lasts.
The field of cornflower yellow is a scarf at the neck of the copper sunburned woman,
the mother of the year, the taker of seeds.
The northwest wind comes and the yellow is torn full of holes, new beautiful things
come in the first spit of snow on the northwest wind, and the old things go,
not one lasts.
The house seemed smaller, now viewed by older eyes…
The street seemed narrower, the trees taller..
Where once were open fields across the road
New construction had bloomed
The small fruit orchard had disappeared
But somehow we knew it would still be there….
Strangely different, …yet much the same
There was an unfamiliar young child’s tricycle
On the flagstone path that we laid…
In front of this little house that lies
Beyond the curve, where the old sycamore grew…
Suddenly, thirty years faded into that autumn day
And quickly had become a springtime of our lives…..
…of first Christmas trees,..of first anniversaries…
…a place where I cried night after night when mother died…
…and spent long, starry nights holding newborn babes….
Yes….it is all still there, in the little yellow house
Funny, but I’m glad they kept the yellow…
It has the same white shutters…
The little yellow house, with a flagstone pathway that we laid
That sits beyond the curve, where the old sycamore grew…
“Just before the death of flowers,
And before they are buried in snow,
There comes a festival season
When nature is all aglow.”
I think often of the days gone past
Deep in my memory where I know they will last.
Let’s take a walk in the woods so near.
Listen, listen do you hear?
The rustle of leaves,
Birds, flying, chirping,
Little animals scurry to and fro,
The smell of wood smoke on
Cold fall days.
I lift up my face to the suns golden rays.
My memories they still stay.
With a light happy step and a big wide smile,
Let’s sit, let’s talk for a long, long while.
My memories are wonderful of days gone past.
Lets sit I’ll share them with you at last.
‘Tis pleasant on a fine spring morn
To see the buds expand,.
‘Tis pleasant in the summer time
To see the fruitful land;
‘Tis pleasant on a winter’s night
To sit around the blaze,
But what are joys like these, my boys,
To merry autumn days!
We hail the merry Autumn days,
When leaves are turning red;
Because they’re far more beautiful
Than anyone has said,
We hail the merry harvest time,
The gayest of the year;
The time of rich and bounteous crops,
Rejoicing and good cheer.
Golden sheaves stand ripening
in the setting sun,
Bounty of a fruitful harvest,
A year’s labor well spent.
From tiniest seed to trees laden
with sweet promise
The earth gives forth her joy
The season of wisdom
where we attain
colors of great knowledge
and darker shades of fear
The confusing temperatures
One Spring day
One Winter day
balanced back and forth
to shock us into
temperance and equanimity
The sun is majestic
as it glares through
the vibrant shades
of windblown leaves
as they leave their
on the bare shuffling
The birds are migrating
They flow in and out of
As we endure the beauty
We can see the long
permanence of impermanence
Like life and death
from transience to eternity
There’s too much time
But there’s not enough time
We’re listless as the Winter
Showing its chilling and
colorless humbling of life…
Tell me when the days turn cold
And the crisp, bitter nights set in
I’ll bid adieu, adieu to the sun
And embrace the northern winds
Wake me from my restless sleep
For the trees will crackle soon
And shed their cumbersome coats and dance
bare with me and the moon
My mouth how it waters in pure delight
Dreaming of scented dregs
Cinnamon, pumpkin, apple spice
Swirling in my head!
And on Halloween, I’ll await you where
The headless one rides by
chasing after phantom fools
and so this nigh shall I,
September days may shorten in length
October evenings can fright
November rains may fall and freeze
Over the Samoan night
but deep within the heart
Of the dormant Earth
The little buds await the Fall
To ensure them of rebirth
And so I sit much like them
Dependant in every way
Upon the plentiful harvest,
Of an autumn day.
This Thursday’s full moon carries the title of “Harvest Moon” for those living in the Northern Hemisphere. But what gives the special moon its name?
The moon officially turns full when it reaches the spot in the sky opposite (180 degrees) from the sun. That moment will occur on Thursday (Sept. 19) at 7:13 a.m. EDT (1113 GMT).
Thursday’s full moon is the one nearest to the September equinox this year, making it the Harvest Moon by the usual definition.
In the empty mountains after the new rain
The evening is cool. Soon it will be autumn.
The bright moon shines between the pines.
The crystal streams flows over the pebbles.
Girls coming home from washing in the river
Rustle through the bamboo grove.
Lotus leaves dance behind the fisherman’s boat.
The perfumes of spring have vanished
But my guests will long remember them.
(translation by Kenneth Rexroth)