The myth of the full moon

Summer ends, and Autumn comes, and he who would have it otherwise would have high tide always and a full moon every night. 

- Hal Borland

The full moon always has me rushing outside to have a look. It somehow evokes feelings I cannot quite describe - euphoria, sadness, loneliness, feeling at one with nature and wonder at the magic of this light in the sky.

For centuries mankind has been intrigued by the notion that a full moon — which rises tonight — drives people to madness, crime, suicide and other  major crisis. 

One of the most enduring myths in human history, embedded in popular culture and folklore from Transylvania, is the myth of the werewolf. And like most popular myths, there's a certain logic to it: Earth is about 80 percent water, much like the human body, the theory goes, and if the moon's gravitational pull can effect the ocean tides, can't it also affect a person's body? 

Studies have found that cops and hospital workers are among the strongest believers in the notion that more crime and trauma occur on nights when the moon is full. One 1995 University of New Orleans study found that as many as 81 percent of mental health professionals believe the myth.

But there may be a simpler explanation for moon-induced behaviour: moonlight. One obvious explanation is that, before the advent of gas lighting at the beginning of the 19th century, the light of the moon permitted outdoor activities that were otherwise impossible. Full moon nights are 12 times brighter [under a clear sky] than at first or last quarter, and therefore it is likely that people stayed up later and slept less than the rest of the time. Even partial sleep deprivation can cause mania, and it is plausible that sleep disturbance during a full moon may function as positive feedback once a manic episode has begun in a predisposed person.

"Perhaps this lies at the origin of the association between madness and the full moon."

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Natural environmentalists

6 animals that recycle in their everyday lives

Most animals live in a delicate ecological balance with their natural surroundings. It's simply the most efficient formula for survival: Take only what is needed, and waste as little of it as possible. But a few animals take "reduce, reuse, recycle" to the next level. It's a good thing, too: Someone needs to help clean up the mess that so many humans leave behind. 

Dung beetles 

It's a dirty job, but somebody's got to do it. Yes, even poop is too valuable a resource to let go to waste, and perhaps no animal understands this better than the dung beetle. This insect lives to collect and repurpose your poop. Not only do dung beetles build their homes out of feces, but they also eat it and lay their eggs in it.
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Many dung beetles are actually referred to as "rollers," since their waste-collection strategy is to roll excrement into balls so that it can be easily wheeled away.
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The environmental value of dung beetles shouldn't be understated. For instance, it's estimated that dung beetles save the United States cattle industry $380 million annually by repurposing livestock feces alone. The amazing recycling ability of dung beetles has even been proposed as a way to help curb global warming.
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See all 6 animals at Mother Nature Network

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Enjoy the little things in Life...

(Pic from WiseGirl)

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70 days into 2013...

... and I have this in my garden...

 

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Wireless technology

Here in the rural area where I live in Tarlton, Gauteng, South Africa, telephone poles are becoming a thing of the past. The copper wire has been stolen so many times that Telkom has abandoned the land-line system and resorted to a satellite telephone system. I’ll miss the poles and lines in the landscape, they provided great perches for birds of prey and congregating swallows before they leave on their great winter migration up North. 

I AM a copper wire slung in the air, 

Slim against the sun 

I make not even a clear line of shadow 

Night and day I keep singing—humming and thrumming: 

It is love and war and money; it is the fighting and 

the tears, the work and want, 

Death and laughter of men and women passing through me, 

carrier of your speech, 

In the rain and the wet dripping, in the dawn and the 

shine drying, 

A copper wire. 

- Carl Sandburg 

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Crow wears a band of silver

W&N watercolour on Amedeo 200gsm 

With thanks to John from "Midmarsh Jottings" for the use of his beautiful photograph. 

Crow wears a band of silver on his ankle, holds it out to watch it glint in the sun like cool creek water. It is noon. He is the only one out. All others have sought shelter under the canopy of live oak, the leaves beneath the chaparral, Crow the only one among them unafraid to cast a shadow. He is a black body to absorb the sun’s heat, and yet unheated.

He's silver studded with stones, turquoise to match the cloudless sky. He stretches out his leg again, watches sky and water glisten on his ankle.

 He flexes claws and brings his foot beneath him again, stretches out his other, naked foot for balance. His feet are beautiful, furrowed skin like charcoal scales, sharp and onyx claws. As flexible as hands, good for grasping new-hatched thrushes or pulling gate hooks from eye bolts, and sleek. The humans see crow’s feet in the faces of their most seasoned elders, the scars of a learned life spent laughing. Crows’ feet, the mark of craft and cunning, crow’s feet a sense of humor made skin and sinew.

 He swings down on the branch, holds himself upside down and swinging, the silver falling down around his upper leg as he barks in delight. Sky below his feet and swaying, silver pools above his head. The world so beautifully inverted, he cannot keep from laughing. This is beauty: the world turned upside down. You can keep your lithe ingénues, your florid sunsets and cloying sentiment: beauty is all that cleft in two, a cunning spark suspended by crow’s feet, a fall from a deadly height and then the swoop of wing, the thickening of the air beneath splayed feathers. Seeing air rising within air and climbing on it, sun glinting blue-black as night sky off your feathers? Night colours blazing brilliant from your feathers? Beauty is day turned to night and night to day.

Heart beats furious beneath that dark breast, mind burns in onyx eyes. Beauty a glint of laughter in a bottomless dark eye. He barks again.

Sun above live oak, a thousand suns refracted on the earth below. Grasshoppers leap into the air clicking. Wild oats, tawn in the summer heat, lean eastward with the breeze, and a wall of fog on the ocean twenty miles west.

All this beauty: all this.

Story from "Coyote Crossing"

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March inspiration - Pets

"The greatest pleasure of a dog is that you may make a fool of yourself with him and not only will he not scold you, but he will make a fool of himself, too." 

~ Samuel Butler

  My companion and life-long friend, Jacko (read Jacko's story HERE.)

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For many of us, our pets mean the whole world to us. For me, a house or an apartment becomes a home when you add one set of four legs, a happy tail, and that indescribable measure of love that we call a dog. I've always subscribed to the creed that the purity of a person's heart can be quickly measured by how they regard animals. Mahatma Gandhi said, "The greatness of a nation and its moral progress can be judged by the way its animals are treated." I whole-heartedly agree with that.

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The Pororoca

"It's the tail end of the dry season on the Araguari River in the Brazilian Amazon Basin, and the water level is low. The moon is full. Suddenly an ominous roar rolls through the jungle, like the rumble of an oncoming train. A vast wall of water comes hurtling straight up the river. The native Tupi Indians call it poroc-poroc—big roar."

- National Geographic

 Pic credit - Investec.

I was utterly awed and amazed when I saw a programme on TV regarding the Pororoca, which is a tidal bore, with waves up to 4 metres high, that travel as much as 13km inland upstream on the Amazon River and adjacent rivers. 

When the moon is full and the dry season is coming to an end along the banks of the Araguari River, the stillness of the Amazon is shattered by a loud, thunderous roar. The suddenly rising waters of the river rush out towards the Atlantic, forcing the tide to surge hundreds of kilometres up the Amazon River – it’s not just a tidal bore, it’s an opportunity waiting to be seized… 

 Pic credit - Investec.

Feared and revered by the native Tupi, who call this tidal bore Pororoca, meaning "great destructive noise", the tremendous wave can be powerful enough to tear entire trees from the river bank...and captivating enough to tempt surfers from all over the world, to ride its untamed wall. Occurring between February and March only, it's the longest wave on earth. 

The wave has become popular with surfers. Since 1999, an annual championship has been held in São Domingos do Capim (on the adjacent Guamá River). However, surfing the Pororoca is especially dangerous, as the water contains a significant amount of debris from the shores of the river (often entire trees), in addition to dangerous fauna. In 2003 the Brazilian Picuruta Salazar won the event with a record ride of 12.5 km lasting 37 minutes. The longest time captured on tape riding the wave is also by Picuruta, lasting 43 minutes. 

You can see the pororoca in action HERE.

Do youself a favour and click, it's something not to be missed!

 Pic credit - Investec.

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Nature is telling us...

With the grass turning yellow and a nip in the morning air, it's plain that we're heading for Autumn already. One of our March/April jobs on the smallholding is to cut the grass and make fire-breaks. We started early this year as Nature is clearly indicating she has plans for an early Winter!

Tappeltjie cleaning under the fences with a panga.

After the contractor has finished the basic job of cutting all the fields, it's time for us to trim under the fences and get closer to walls and other structures. Where the tractor cannot be used it is done by hand with a panga.

I just love watching them work and the smell of the freshly-cut grass is like no other in this world!

Following the tractor around, I also get a chance to 'rescue' small wildlife and flowers, giving the driver strict instructions to 'go around' it. This wildflower was blowing around briskly in the breeze and I had to hold it still to get a shot.

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Besides clearing up a possible fire hazard, I'm thrilled by the annual cut as I get to replenish my stock of baled grass for the chicken coop. I really don't use that much so twenty bales lasts me the whole year. The contractor takes the rest of the harvest, which is about 200 bales in total.

By this time of the year, the Fan-tiled Cisticolas (Cisticola juncidis - Landeryklopkloppie in Afrikaans) have finished breeding. They hang their tiny nests in the tall grass by bunching clumps together and building their little cups half-way up the stems. Quite a job to find them in the tall grass and I never actually look for the nests as the Cisticolas are very shy and easily abandon a disturbed nest. I'll miss their constant twittering as they do their dipping flight above the tall grass.

(Pic from Photo.net)

But the shorter grass makes way for other wildlife - the Guinea fowl pass through more often and the Crowned Plovers move in and start choosing nesting sites. It's one of my great joys watching their tiny, long-legged little offspring following the parents around in Winter, taking tit-bits pointed out to them.

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Domino, the Pied Crow

A photograph of Domino on a textured back-ground. 

Location : Tarlton, Gauteng, South Africa. 

Camera : Fuji FinePix 2800Zoom 

This is Domino, a Pied Crow (Corvus albus) I was blessed enough to have in my life for a few years. I found him on the ground under a huge Blue gum tree, newly fledged and starving and weak. As it was impossible to return him to his nest, I took him home, prepared a basket with a hot water bottle, gave him a good feeding and waited. It wasn’t long before he was asking for food every hour and within a week he was happily hopping around the house, investigating an exciting new world. 

Crows are renowned for their curiosity, and Domino was no exception. Nothing escaped his watchful eye and his greatest pleasure was ‘stealing’ spoons and anything shiny and then hiding it all over the garden. 

We spent two beautiful years together until, one morning, I found his remains up in the tree in which he slept – he had fallen prey to a Serval (African Wild Cat Caracal serval), one I had been having trouble with for several weeks, catching my chickens at night. My heart was broken, but I am thankful that I have many wonderful memories from our time spent together. 

The Pied Crow is a Southern African bird that belongs to the Corvidae bird family group which includes birds such as Crows, Ravens and is absent only from areas of Somalia and Ethiopia, as well as much of eastern Botswana, the Northern Cape and western Namibia. It has become prolific, as its numbers and range are expanding especially in the Karoo. It often occupies savanna woodland and bushy shrub land, but it is becoming more and more common in farmland, urban and suburban areas.

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