Pondering a Groundhog

Sunday, early evening, while there was still enough light to see what follows, I turned round and round on the I-490-I-390 interchange just north of Pittsford. In the grassy medium I spotted a groundhog. He would have been concealed completely in the tall, rain-nourished grass if he were not sitting on his haunches. He sat there, his little arms reaching out for a tall stalk of grass. His eyes were on the summertime treat on the end of the stalk.

I watched intently as he pulled it near, so intently that I veered off the road. I corrected myself and the ground hog did not flinch, he sat there happily savoring his morsel. I wondered if he sees large moving objects as insignificant? Or at least he views them as harmless; maybe it is how we view the moon as a perfectly harmless mass despite the fact that it is traveling at an exceedingly high velocity (~2300 mph).

Of course, he could just be nearsighted. Interesting pointless factoid that will taint the word “factoid” after I state it: I had no idea woodchucks and groundhogs were the same thing. Go figure.

Me and the Glens

This Friday I planned on going to (in this order): Watkins Glen, Enfield Glen, Ithaca (for food and lounging), and, finally, Fillmore Glen. Rain threatened to spoil my plans, but there was a phrase in my 50 Hikes in Central New York book that urged me onward. It was something about how cool the glens are after a summer storm when their streams are running rampant. So, armed with an umbrella and three ziplock bags to waterproof the belongings in my backpack, I made the drive to the majestic Watkins Glen.

I. Watkins Glen

Near the top of Watkins Glen on the South Rim Trail, I came across Jesus. From his hilltop, I turned around and took a look at his view. I said, “So this is what you look at all day. How’s that working for you?” I stood in front of him, umbrella in hand as it has begun to sprinkle. I said, “Well, this is your chance to take me down.” It was then that I heard a distant clash of thunder.

Within minutes, it began to pour buckets of rain. Air horns could be heard throughout the glen to warn hikers. Although the glen is wet all the time, with the added run-off, the glen was a sight. Makeshift waterfalls sprung from every face and emptied onto the trails. The water was cool and felt good.

II. Ithaca Gets a Strange Visitor

The rain continued as I drove to my next stop. It was not letting up, visibility was low on the highway, and I felt like I was going to hydroplane every time I hit a large pool of water on the road. I opted to skip Enfield Glen and go to Ithaca for lunch and lounging. I stopped at the ABC Cafe for lunch, then dessert at Moosewood. While in the Dewitt Mall, I picked up a cool little Globe Pencil holder for $3.50. One of many purchases made this day in Ithaca by a bearded man in a red hat, soaked from head to toe, and carrying his belongings in a clear ziplock bag. After this, I imagine I must have been a sight, walking around town, looking like a fool with a small globe in one hand and a clear ziplock bag in the other.

III. Fillmore Glen

The “Dry” Creek that runs through Fillmore Glen was raging. The water was a murky brown and first impressions weren’t as majestic as those I had of Watkins Glen. But I trekked onward and upward along the Gorge Trail.

There are eight bridges that crisscross the gorge. At the last bridge, I headed up toward the South Rim Trail and started my return journey. The sun had been playing peek-a-boo all afternoon. The effect was enjoyable. Sunlight - which would otherwise have been described as dappling - was “turning” on and off on the trail in front of me as the clouds passed; my own wilderness disco.

Night Rider

Dead Frog

…this frog was dead, no doubt about it. Hit by a car, dried by the hot hot sun, and poked at by a passive, indifferent observer.

When it comes, it comes in Spades.

An Ambassador, I Am Not

What I should have said when Miss Emily asked me what I was working on:

I am studying something called a Symbiotic Star, which is - in fact- two stars captivated by each other’s gravitational pull. One of the stars is older and much more compact than the other, so it pulls material off of the other star. This gives the material a lot of energy which can do funny things. In this case, the energy launches a stream of material moving outward at a very high speed, also called a jet. In an observation taken by the Chandra X-ray Satellite, I found such a jet that was previously overlooked. I am currently fleshing out a paper on the object.

What I said, after standing there for a few seconds silently mulling over how much I should say about this without running the risk of holding up the coffee line or boring her:

Um, I found a jet, which probably doesn’t make much sense, but nobody saw it before, so I am writing it up. I am at an impasse because I can’t get this thing to work (software issue).

Conclusion: I need to talk to people more. I’ve lost any sliver of eloquence I once had. Incidentally, I am now taking reservations to speak at children’s birthday parties.