Tuesday, June 20, 2017

God's Children

Archibald Rutledge, God’s Children, 1947  (I read the Kindle edition of this book). 

            I have a love and hate relationship with this book.   Archibald Rutledge had an ability to see beauty and complexity everywhere.  A lover of nature and the beauty of his family’s South Carolina’s plantation, he was able to convey the awe he experienced in nature into words that delight the reader.  Yet, as he was writing in the early 20th Century, there is a strong sense of paternalism in how he relates to the African American sharecroppers who worked the land.  He claims to love them and credits them for helping him experience the fullness of nature, yet he’s a man of his time.  It doesn’t seem to bother him that he lives in the big house and they live in shacks. 
            However, Rutledge saw himself responsible responsible for the welfare of those who live around his plantation. “The whole business of government, especially the unpleasant details of taxes, is to a plantation Negro a dark and mysterious affair,” he writes.  Then he tells the story about Jim, an African American man who was delinquent on his poll tax and about to lose his land.  Rutledge spoke to the Sheriff who said Jim had to pay the sum or he would have to claim title.  Rutledge paid it, and expected Jim to work his debt off.  But the Sheriff later asked if Jim was over 60 years old, saying if so, he’d be exempt from the poll tax.  Talking with the Jim, Rutledge realized that he had no idea of when he was born.  He asked about things he could remember in order to determine his age.  He remembered being of “good sense” (which would have meant around 6-7 years old) when there was the Great Shake (the earthquake that damaged Charleston in 1886).  This put him over 60 years of age.  Archibald received a refund.  Reading this, I was amazed Jim would have to play a poll tax because I am sure he wasn’t able to vote South Carolina at that time.  Although it was noble of Rutledge to champion Jim’s cause, he followed it up with a joke about how now plantation owners are the slaves, as he noted how they are responsible for the descendants of slaves. I’m sure if Rutledge was writing today and not in 1947, such views would not be published or at least not received well by the general public.
            Yet, there is much wisdom and beauty in his writings.  “[L]ife is enlivened by its uncertainty, as it is made dearer by its insecurity and its brevity.  As the long look of the setting sun lights up the fading landscape (especially an autumnal one) with more tenderness than the morning mysterious glamours…”  This portion of a sentence (Rutledge was no Hemingway as I quoted only half the sentence) captures the wisdom and beauty of his words.  Life everywhere is made up of roses and razor blades, arsenic and azaleas,” displays the paradox Rutledge saw in life.  Writing about the African American cemetery, he says:  “There the mighty pines towered tallest; there the live oaks stood druidlike; there the jasmines rioted freely over hollies and sweet myrtles, tossing their saffron showers high in air.  As children, Prince and I dreaded this place.” His sentence structure is often complex and his words ring of poetry.
            In this book, Rutledge tells of hunting and fishing with his African American friends around the plantation.  Some of the stories are from his youth, such as when he and Prince caught a poisonous water moccasin while fishing and used it to scare the plantation’s cook (I thought of my own experience of almost catching such a snake).  Some of the stories seem a bit fanciable such as Mobile, the huntsman, hunting next to the rice paddies where workers were busy.  His wife was working in the paddy and their infant child was left to sleep on a dike.  When an eagle swooped down and grabbed the child, Mobile took aim and, from a long distance, shot the bird and saved the child.  Another story involved a traveling man with a monkey.  The monkey grabbed a child and took it up on the roof of the house, requiring another heroic and comic rescue.  
            Rutledge shares the plantation folk stories such as the one about the “Walk Off People.”  When Adam and Eve were first created, all wasn’t well in paradise. Adam liked to hunt and fish so much that Eve was bored and threatened to leave him.   So God created more people so Eve would have company, but it was late in the day.  God said he’d come back and put brains in these newly created people, but some of them “walked off” and never got their brains.  This story not only explains those without “good sense” but perhaps also those who move in on a married woman that has played second fiddle to her husband’s interests.
            Rutledge spends most of the fifth chapter writing about the religion of his African American neighbors.  The only place he gives insight into his own beliefs is where he addresses the fundamentalists need to understand how “the worship of nature and God go hand in hand, and that he who worships the God of the universe is usually ready to accept Christ as the Son of that God.”  Earlier in the book, he remarked how the folk saying, “Prayers never gets grass out of de field” illustrated the truth about faith without works! 
            I highly recommend this book, which is available on Amazon Kindle for a minimal cost (I think I paid 99 cents).  But I remember this book with a warning. This was written sixty years ago and recalls stories that are over a hundred years old.  Today, paternalistic views are criticized.  Yet, the reader who understands the world in which Rutledge was writing will appreciate his attempt at honoring those who lived on the plantation as well as the magic of the land. The author grew up on this plantation, then moved north for college and to teach in Pennsylvania.  In the mid-1930s, he moved back to the plantation, to help restore it and lived there until his death in 1973.  He also served for 40 years at the poet laureate of South Carolina and published over 50 books and numerous articles, many about the outdoor life.  Today, the plantation is a state historic site. 
 “There is, I think, no lovelier land than the old plantation regions of the Carolinas—a land of hyacinth days and camellia nights.  Nature there triumphs in giant trees, in great rivers, in lustrous fragrant fields, in an exotic profusion of wild flowers.”   

                                                     -Archibald Hamilton Rutledge. 1883-1973

Tuesday, June 13, 2017

Last Friday on the Water

Chicks peaking out of their nest

The osprey chicks, in nest built on top of the two navigation markers leading out of Delegal Creek, are maturing.  As I leave the marina and paddle out of the creek with the falling tide, the parents do their usual dance.  As I get closer, they begin to cry out and then stand tall on their nest and spread their wings before flying.  At first they approach me in a threatening manner, then head to a tree in the marsh where they continued their cry as I paddle past.  This happens every time there are eggs or chicks in the nest, only this time the young chicks are large enough to bop their heads up to see what’s happening.  It won’t be long before they fledge and take off on their own. 

Approaching nest at mouth of Delegal Creek
Last Friday, I took the late morning outgoing tide to Wassaw Beach.  It’s a warm day, but not too hot and with enough of a sea breeze to keep me cool as I paddle. With the tide in my favor, I make the five mile paddle in just over an hour, pulling my boat up on the beach and enjoying lunch.  Just up the beach from me are two families who’d made the trip in two powerboats.  The two men have rods out in the water, which are sticking in the back of their boats while they sip on beer in the shade of beach umbrellas.  They catch a few small sharks (thankfully they release them) but the sight of the sharks is enough to keep the children out of the water and for their wives to caution them about getting too close to the sharks’ mouth, warning they might bite off a finger. 
Approaching south end of Wassaw
Osawbaw is in the distance, to the left is open ocean
After lunch, I pull my boat up higher on the beach and take my hammock, a book and journal, and head off for some privacy.  I walked around the south end of the island.  The high water mark is a graveyard of dead (and stinking) horseshoe crabs.  At the southern tip of the island, and just far enough inland to avoid the stench, but not so far as to block the sea breeze, I find two pines where I can string my hammock.  The site affords me a nice view of the water and Ossabaw Sound to the south. I plop myself in the hammock, enjoying the constant breeze, for some reading and an afternoon nap.  The tide is turning around 3 PM, but I’m not in a hurry.  After waking from a nap, I watch a pod of bottle-nosed dolphins play and fish in the water just feet from the shore.  I’m sure the sharks, who tend to avoid dolphins and porpoises, have cleared out.  Many times I have been fishing and, like the guys I’d seen earlier in the afternoon, and have been catching lots of what we called sand sharks, only to have dolphins show up and the sharks to clear out.  I also notice that the humidity has dropped for Ossabaw Island, which is at least three miles away, appears a lot closer than when I fell asleep.

Dead horseshoe crabs at high water mark

 At 5:30 PM, I pack up, stow everything in my kayak, and paddle back home.  The breeze has picked up and waves are on the water, which makes for a more interesting paddle (and an easier one as I am often able to ride the waves).  I make good time heading back.  As I enter Delegal Creek, the Osprey again greet me with their usual dance as I pass the navigation markers.
 As I am loading up my kayak on top of the car, a number of kayakers began arriving, planning for an evening paddle while watching the nearly full moon rise.  I am tempted to join them.

Adult osprey approaching nest

Tuesday, June 06, 2017

John Knox (and dreams of Scotland)

I'm heading to Scotland in a few weeks, so it was a good time to read a recent biography of the Scottish Reformer, John Knox.  Here's my review:

Jane Dawson, John Knox, (New Haven: Yale, 2015), 373 pages, index and notes and 8 pages of illustrations.

John Knox, the Protestant Reformer of Scotland, is often portrayed as a dour masochistic preacher and an opponent of Mary, Queen of Scots. In this new biography of the Scottish Reformer Jane Dawson paints a different view of the man. She begins with a description of Knox having his first child baptized in Geneva, while he was exiled.  It was a happy time of life for a man who was often depressed.  But then, Knox had a rough life.  George Wishart, who led Knox into the Protestant fold, was burned at the stake in St. Andrews, Scotland, only six weeks after Knox’s conversion.  After the first attempt to bring reform failed in Scotland, with Mary Guise reclaiming Catholic control of Scotland, Knox found himself chained to an ore in the galley of a ship.  This was a time of physical suffering from which Knox never fully recovered.  After being freed, Knox went to England where he served as a pastor, but as the Catholics began to roll back some of the early reforms in England, he fled to Europe, where he met with John Calvin in Geneva and Henry Bullinger in Zurich.

Knox was always a bit ornery.  He fought against the prayer book of the Anglican Church, a conflict that would continue to haunt him on the continent especially during his tenure with the English congregation in Frankfurt. While in Geneva, he helped produce the Geneva Bible (an English Bible that was considered so anti-royalty that it encouraged King James to call for another translation), the Psalter, and a book on church discipline.  Knox and Calvin had different views of the church.  Calvin felt the true church needed two “marks”: the preaching of the Word and the sacraments.  Knox added a third mark: discipline.  Knox concern for church discipline and the “cleansing of the church,” reflects his black and white views, but also made him less willing to compromise.  Knox could get overly zealous.  When he first arrived on the continent, both Calvin and Bullinger encouraged him to cool down.  His zealous attitude certainly contributed to the willingness for the church to continue to separate and splinter, an attitude that pervades Protestantism. 

Knox later returned to Scotland, having been invited by royalty who were devoted to the Protestant cause.  He would serve as a chaplain for the Lords of the Congregation during their fight against the Catholic forces in Scotland.  This was a troubling time.  Scotland was involved in a civil war.  There was always a chance that France would come to the aid of Catholics in Scotland.  Knox, having spent time in England, had a vision of a united Protestant island (this would come about long after his death).   It was also an interesting time, as religion was not the only dividing issue. There were even Protestants who support Mary, Queen of Scots. Knox had his own battles with the English reformation (especially on the Prayer Book and vestments).  The author points out how Knox’s stubbornness kept the Scottish and English Reformations separate.

Another example of Knox stubbornness was his first book, a tract written against female leadership.  John Calvin warned against publishing this tract, suggesting he might come to regret it.  The tract was primarily directed at the Catholic Marys (there were three and Mary Guise appears to have been more problematic than the better known Mary Queen of Scots).  His harsh language against women leadership was so strong Queen Elizabeth (a Protestant) also detested Knox for it.  It is this tract that normally leads people to consider Knox to be masochistic, but as Dawson points out, Knox actually got along well with women. There were several women whom he regularly solicited advice.  He also loved both of his wives and was in deep grief following his first wife’s death.  (His courtship and marriage of his first wife is interesting, as she came with her mother and her father wrote her out of his will.)

Bouts of depression often haunted Knox.  He was constantly in fear of losing the Reformation in Scotland, a fear that was based on the political reality more than a theological trust in God.   In an era where most sermons were from the New Testament, Knox often preached from the Old Testament.  He saw himself as a modern day Ezekiel.  His favorite book (his anchor) was the Gospel of John and at his death he asked to have the 17th Chapter of John’s Gospel.  Although Knox’s preaching was strong, criticism of sermons bothered him and he took such comments personally.   Later in his life, his voice was so weak that he struggled to preach (often preaching in the chapel instead of the main sanctuary).   

 In addition to the tons of material available on Knox’s life, Dawson drew upon the papers of Christopher Goodman that have only recently been made available.  Goodman and Knox worked together when they were both exiled on the Continent (working with English speaking congregations in Frankfurt and Geneva) and later in Scotland.  Although Goodman left Scotland for Ireland (Knox even considered joining him there in an evangelical mission), the two remained close the rest of their lives through correspondence.

This book is a great introduction to the life of John Knox and the world in which he lived.  Knox is a complicated man.  There were much to admire in him, as well as stuff to detest.  His view of a "united kingdom," that would eventually come about, was prophetic, but his strict view of the church brought a harshness into Presbyterianism that has been hard to shake. 

Friday, June 02, 2017

A few sailing photos

The past two weeks I've been battling a cold.  I am sure my daughter gave it to me on our drive back from Princeton, NJ.  Thankfully, I'm on the downhill run, but I haven't had a lot of energy.  I haven't been to the gym since getting back nor have I sailed or kayak.  I did go out for a bike ride one afternoon, but after about 4 miles, found myself hacking and coughing and rode home at a slower pace.  Last Saturday it was my turn on the committee boat to run our weekend regatta.  I took these photos then (I don't often take photos when racing, only when going out for pleasure sails or on the committee boat).  Enjoy the photos.  It was a warm day, highs in the low 90s with a nice steady wind of 10-12 miles an hour.

Downwind spinnaker run 

Way out front (other boats are rounding the leeward mark)

Crossing the line
Weather holding, I'll be sailing tomorrow.  My daughter's boyfriend is coming in for the weekend and he wants to try sailing, so this will be a new experience for me.  So far, I like him so I won't be tempted to knock him out of the boat with the boom on an "accidental" jibe.  

Sunday, May 21, 2017

The Blood of Emmett Till

Timothy B. Tyson, The Blood of Emmett Till (New York: Simon & Schuster, 2017), 291 pages.  Index, bibliography and notes.  

The story is well known.  In 1955, Emmett Till, a fourteen year old boy from Chicago travels to Mississippi to spend the summer with relatives.  He says something to Carolyn Bryant, a clerk in a small grocery store and whistles at her as she goes out to fetch a pistol from her car.  Till is later kidnapped in the middle of the night, brutally tortured, killed, and his body is dumped in a river.  We know so much about this story, compared to other lynchings, because of Till's mother.  She refused to let the story be buried.  She insisted that her son have an open casket funeral.  She contacted Chicago black community leaders who helped spread the word around the world, creating a media event.  Soon, Emmett Till is a well-known name, synonymous with lynchings.  

Much of this story has been told many times.  What is new with Tyson's account is his interview with Carolyn Bryant.  Even after reading the book, we still don't know exactly what happened between Emmett and Carolyn inside that grocery story.  However, in the interview, Carolyn admits he didn't grab her around the waist.  She doesn't remember all what what was said that evening.  There have been so many years and the stories been told and retold, leaving her questioning what was said.  However, one thing she is certain of, "Nothing that boy did could ever justify what happened to him."(7)

Carolyn's husband and brother-in-law were arrested shortly after Till's body was discovered by a fishermen.  Their trial brought reporters from all over the world along with an African American congressman from Detroit.  The trial became a showcase of life in the segregated South. (They had to have separate reporter tables in the courtroom for African-American press).  Although there were irregularities in the handling of the case, such as the Sheriff visiting a key witness to suggest that he think about what he testifies in court, the trial itself goes smoothly and appears fair.  Yet the jury only deliberated a short time before returning a not-guilty verdict.  Although many expected the verdict, most knew the men were guilty and a few years later, with them safe from another trial, they admitted as much.  Most of the the African-Americans who testified in the trial, in fear for their lives, immediately leave Mississippi and relocated up north.  

In telling the story, Tyson doesn't just show the horrifying conditions of African-Americans in the South.  He tells of the conditions in the North, especially in segregated Chicago, where Till grew up.  There are also questions left hanging such as what happened to the two black men who worked on the plantation Carolyn Bryant's brother-in-law ran, who helped subdue Till in the back of the truck as they rode around in the early morning hours looking for a place to do the terrible deed.

Although the book is well written, it is not an easy story to read.  Yet, it is a story that needs to be told and retold.  This event only happened a little over sixty years ago.  In the Epilogue, Tyson attempts to bridge the events in 1955 with the current “Black Lives Matter” campaigns.   As a member of the dominant culture, this book provides interesting insights into what other have had to endure not that long again.

This is the third book I've read by Timothy Tyson. The first was Democracy Betrayed: The Wilmington Race Riot of 1898 and It's Legacy, which he co-edited with David Cecelski. In 2007, I read and reviewed Blood Done Signed My Name. Tyson seems to have a thing for books with blood in the title, yet sadly much of the racial history of our country is stained with blood.

Monday, May 15, 2017

A hectic trip to New Jersery and Florida

Supposedly I’ve been on vacation for the past week… a vacation that involved driving to Princeton, New Jersey for my daughter’s intercollegiate regional regatta for crew.  She’s a coxswain.  The regionals were on Lake Mercer, where the Olympic Teams practice.  Her boat was pretty beat up (they had a girl with a broken ankle and another with knee problems), so they didn’t do well, but they made it.  For her to be on the varsity team as a freshman was something of which I was proud.  I also enjoyed the cooler weather!

Her boat gaining on a competitor (they didn't quite overtake them)

Old canal house with tollbooth
While she and her team got ready, I spent the day walking along the Delaware and Raritan Canal, enjoying the beautiful dogwoods reflecting in the water.  I also ran into some folks I knew at Princeton and who invited me to a lecture on John Calvin’s piety.  I jumped at the opportunity and was blown away by the speaker, Dr. Else Anne McKee.  I was familiar with some of her work, but this was the first time I was able to hear her in person.

The regatta was on Friday.  We had planned to take several days to make it back down to Stetson, in Deland, Florida, but my daughter got a frantic text saying that she had to be out of the dorm by Sunday!   So instead of a leisurely trip south, stopping to see things, we drove like crazy.  I am now not feeling very rested, but I don’t have to be back in the office until Thursday, so maybe I’ll be able to do something fun.  Enjoy some photos:  

Towpath and canal


The dogwoods were beautiful (ours was too, two months ago!)

Friday, May 05, 2017

Empire of the Summer Moon

I haven't been around blogger much since April, but I have a few books I've read that I should review (whether or not I get around to all of them is debatable).  This was a book I read for a men's book club I'm in.  It was interesting.  

S. C. Gwynne, Empire of the Summer Moon: Quanah Parker and the Rise and Fall of the Comanches, the Most Powerful Indian Tribe in American History (New York: Scriber, 2010), 371 pages that include an index, notes and a bibliography.  Aloes included are plates of photos, book group discussion questions and an interesting chapter in Gwynne’s new book on Stonewall Jackson.

The relationship between Native American tribes in the American West changed dramatically in the 17th Century with the rise of the Comanche.  Prior to the Spanish colonization of Mexico, horses were unknown in the Americas.  Over time horses that escaped Spanish farms and missions or were abandoned from expeditions began to breed and flourish in the high grasslands to the east and south of the Rocky Mountains.   Although most tribes learned to domesticate horses, utilizing them for transportation, the Comanche learned to fight from the horses.  Their strategy changed the power structure as a formerly non-important band of Native Americans began expanding their territory in what is now Texas, along with parts of Oklahoma, eastern Colorado and northern New Mexico.  They pushed out Sioux, Paiute, Apaches and other tribes and their fierceness keep the Spanish and later the Mexicans from their territory.  This book tells their story along with the story of early Texas history.
After independence from Spain, the Mexican government found itself at struggling with its northern territories.  Its missions in Texas were often being attacked by Comanche raiding parties, which eventually led to the Mexicans inviting American farmers into the area in hopes that they might create a buffer from the Comanche.  What happened, instead, is that the Americans would seek and eventually gain independence from Mexico and form a new country, Texas, which then had to deal with the Comanche problem.   

The Comanche were a warring tribe.  Their life consisted of raids, buffalo and horses.  They did not settle into permanent villages but constantly moved.   Unlike their northern neighbors, the Sioux and Cheyenne, the Comanche didn’t wear colorful bonnets of feathers, preferring a cap with buffalo horns.  The women did the hard work, setting up camp and cooking and preparing the killed buffalo.  The men were warriors and were fierce.  They were brutal to their captives, whether from another tribe or Anglo-settlers, often torturing both men and women.  Sometimes children would be spared and brought into the tribe, especially because the low birthrate among Comanche women (which probably came from their constant time on horses), but children of enemies were also often killed.

Gwynne tells the story of the rise and fall of the Comanche by framing it around the Parkers, an early Texas family that set up a settlement in West Texas adjacent to Comanche territory.  In the middle of a day in 1836, while the men were in the fields, a band of Comanche approached their homestead.  At first they seemed friendly, then they began to kill and took as captives several women and children.  One of the girls was Cynthia, who was nine.  She witnessed the murder, rape and torture of several other family members.  She would grow up among the Comanche and eventually marry one of the leading warriors.  Their son (a half-bred), would be the last great warrior of the Comanche and the only Comanche to be chief over the whole tribe (the Comanche tended not to have a hierarchical structure as they lived in bands and when someone wanted to lead a “war party” he would recruit from the various bands enough warriors who would look to his leadership for that event). 
Later, Cynthia and her Native American daughter would be recaptured, but she never fully integrated back into American culture.  The author points out that she had the misfortune to be “adopted” into two different cultures that were alien to what she knew (first into the Comanche life when she was nine and later back into a culture in which she’d forgotten when she was an adult). 

In addition to the Parker family, the book focuses on Cynthia’s son, Quanah.  He led the last of the war parties and, when he realized that he could never hold back the white settlers and with the buffalo gone, led the tribe into a treaty.  While on the reservation, he made a good life for himself as he raised cattle, but he was also very generous and when he died wasn’t wealthy.  He was also a showman who enjoyed hosting guests to his home, which was quite the change from the young warrior that was feared by the U. S. Army along with other tribes.

Gwynne makes that case that technology eventually bought about the Comanche downfall.  While the Mexicans and early American settlers tried to fight with muskets and long rifles, these were not very good weapons for close combat with a mounted enemy.  The Comanche warrior could shot 30 arrows in the time a person could reload a musket.  But just like the horse gave them an advantage over other tribes, the use of repeating pistols and rifles brought an advantage first to the Texas rangers (who fought like the Comanche, from the saddle) and later to the United States Army.   He also notes that the Comanche downfall was inevitable as their warrior culture wasn’t adaptable in a changing world.   
The two key groups at keeping the Comanche in check according to Gwynne were the Texas Rangers (who fought like the Comanche) and Ranald Slidell MacKenzie.  MacKenzie, an army general, was much more successful but less known than Custer, another graduate from his era at West Point.  Sadly, after serving on posts in the West, he ended his life in a mental institute. 

This was a fast read.  Gwynne is a journalist and his writing reflects his ability to tell a story. Some of the parts about the Comanche treatment of captives may cause the squeamish nightmares, but overall I found the book fascinating.  

Monday, May 01, 2017

2017 A-Z recap

April has come and gone and I completed the A-Z challenge again.   I placed the survivor badge on the side, but I don’t feel so much as a survivor as just being glad that I am done with the challenge.It was enjoyable to explore the mythology stories of the stars (along with an elementary amount of astronomy).  I tried to check out several different blogs each day, to see what other people were exploring.  I was amazed at the talent of the bloggers and a variety of themes.  I learned about a lot of new places on the world, picked up tidbits about reading, writing and editing, and gain inspiration and helpful hints of having a good life.  I also enjoyed getting to know more people in blogland.  There are four blogs that I would like to highlight.  These bloggers blew me away by their research:   

  • Sara C Snider wrote about magic and medicinal uses of herbs.  At first I was skeptical, as I hold about as much regard for magic as I do for using the zodiac for understanding life, but the post was fascinating and helpful.  
  • C. D. Gallant-King told us about weird and interesting facts about Canada.  He reminded me again of why I like that country so much.   
  • Tamara Narayan wrote about various conspiracy theories.  Although I knew there are a lot of paranoid people out there, I may have under estimated the numbers of such people. 
  • And from the other side of the world, Heidi from Australia also wrote about astronomy.  However, she took a more serious tack than me.  If you didn’t get enough science and math and heard too much of Jupiter’s sex life in my blog, check out her posts.  

A bit about my sources...  I have several star guides at home along with a neat sky app on my iPad.  On the app, if you click on constellations or stars, it will give you more information.  I also found some information online from Wikipedia, Space.com, and Constellation Guide.   And then there is a favorite book that was most used during the month, Julius D. W. Staal’s The New Patterns in the Sky: Myths and Legends of the Stars (Blacksburg, VA: MaDonald & Woodward Publishing, 1988). 

Next year…  I decided just a few days before April to join the challenge, but about half way through the month I found myself pondering what topic I might want to explore next April.  Right now I’m thinking that it might be ghost towns in Nevada, but we’ll see…  

Thanks to everyone who made the challenge enjoyable!  

Sunday, April 30, 2017

Z is for Zodiac

Z is for Zodiac as we come to the end of our A-Z challenge of exploring heavenly bodies.  The Zodiac is the sun’s apparent path across the skies, which because of the earth’s rotation and tilt isn’t right on the equator.  Instead, the Zodiac follows the sun and, before calendars, was a way of keeping the date straight as the sun is roughly at the same place at the same time year after year.  But because the sun’s elliptical path varies from the equator (which the sun is only at twice a year at the fall equinox and the spring equinox) the “stars in the zodiac vary from north and south of the equator. 

We can thank the Babylonians for our current Zodiac.  Studying the sun’s and moon’s path across the sky, they placed constellations in each 30 day block.  But there is a problem with this as the sun may be “in a particular constellation” from as few as eight days (for Scorpius) to as many as forty-five days (Virgo).  They also capped the zodiac at 12 constellations even though there are thirteen constellations that are in the sun’s path.  When one speaks of being born under a Zodiac sign, it means that when the sun is overhead at noon, the sun is in that constellation, but of course we can’t tell because it is daytime and the stars can’t be seen.   But there’s a problem.  The zodiac dates and the actual position of the sun has changed.  So instead of being born in the sign of Capricorn, I was born in the sign of Sagittarius.  This doesn’t bother me any, although I kind of liked being a goat, but being a horse archer isn’t bad either.  But then, I don’t plan my life on my astrological signs.  

For more information on the Zodiac, check out Heidi Kneale's A-Z challenge blog.  Being from Australia and on the other side of the International Time Zone, she  had her post up a day before mine! :  

Saturday, April 29, 2017

Y is for Yellow Dwarf

We are almost done with exploring heavenly bodies in this year’s April’s A-Z challenge.  Y is for Yellow Dwarf.  No, I don’t mean Snow White’s Asian suitor, but a “g-type main-sequence star.”  All that gobble-goop means is a star like our sun!  These stars range in color from white to slightly yellow.  Our sun is actually a white star but appears more yellow because of our atmosphere.  This is something one might lose sleep over.  Our sun is burning 4 million tons of fuel a second.  Imagine that number, 4 million tons a second!  As it consumes this much fuel, it is producing the equivalent energy of 60 billion times the electricity produced by all the world’s power plants.  The sun can’t keep this up.  Sooner or later the sun will run out of fuel and then all our investments in solar energy will be wasted.  What are we to do?

Well, don’t sweat it, for as the sun begins to run short on fuel, it’ll throw one final party as it bellows itself into a red giant.  Then you’ll sweat it, but not for long for the earth will be consumed (as will we).  But don’t worry too much, that shouldn’t happen for another 4.5 billion years or so.  Chances are, we’ll all be long gone or have blown each other up by then.   After that last big party, the sun will dump a lot of its excessive matter, forming a planetary nebula as the core gradually shrink into a white dwarf. 

Of all the heavenly bodies we’ve discussed, there is one yellow dwarf is the easiest to spot.  Think you’re  up for the task?  (just don't stare at the sun, it's not good for your eyes).

Friday, April 28, 2017

X is for the X in the summer sky

Now for the promised post that many of you have been waiting for...

If you look overhead (from the northern hemisphere) during the summer, into the heart of the Milky Way, you might be able to make out an X or a cross in the sky.  X is today's letter in our A-Z Challenge.  This "X" is Cygnus, the swan, although it is also called “The Northern Cross.”  Although larger than its companion constellation, the Southern Cross, it’s not as famous possibly because Crosby Stills and Nash never sang a song about it.  

We’ve heard a bit about one of the stories that deal with Cygnus when we looked at Gemini (so you might want to look back and review).   If you remember, Gemini were the children of the affair between Jupiter (or Zeus) and Leda.  Leda, at the time, was the wife of the King of Sparta and Jupiter, from his all-seeing perch above earth, spots her having a bath.  Wanting a closer look, Jupiter changed himself into a swan and swam over to Leda.  The beautiful queen found the swan so lovely, she stoked his neck which drove Jupiter mad with lust.  He turned back into himself and they had sexual relationships that evening.  That same night, Leda, also had sex with her husband and somehow sperm from both found their way into Leda’s eggs.  Nine months later, she give birth to the Gemini twins, one who was immortal, thanks to his father being a god.  The other child was mortal, thanks to his dad being just a king.  So today, during the summer months, the swan is overhead waiting to seduce another beauty…  Or maybe this nonsense should just be called a “Midsummer Nights Dream.’   

There are other legends about Cygnus, but this one involved our old friend, Jupiter.

As for Crosby, Stills and Nash, I love the song, "Southern Cross," Anytime you can mix together sailing, the stars, and lost lovers together, I tend internalize the message...  
When you see the Southern Cross for the first time
You understand now why you came this way
'Cause the truth you might be runnin' from is so small
But it's as big as the promise, the promise of a comin' day

                               -Crosby, Stills and Nash, 1982

Thursday, April 27, 2017

W is for White Dwarf

Today, as we move into the doldrums of the skies in our A-Z challenge, we’re at the letter W.  There are no constellations that begin with a “W”, so we’ll have to look elsewhere for a heavenly body to admire.  Today, it will be a “White Dwarf.”  No, this is not one of Snow White’s Caucasian Suitors (which one of the seven dwarfs would that be?). 

Wrong Dwarfs (and shouldn't snow white be a blonde?)
Instead, I am speaking of a particular type of star, of which we have a hard time seeing because they are so dim.  White dwarfs are stars that are on their way out, so to speak, having burned up their fuel, they now remain as a dense compact core that slowly cools.  There is still enough heat and energy to emit some light, but fusion has stopped and at some point in the next dozen or so billions of years, the star will switch off its light and become a black dwarf (of which none is currently known to exist, but then the solar system is vast and a dark star could hide anywhere).  The closest white dwarf is a binary star to Sirius.

Now, I should have never said "never" when it comes to Mr. Jupiter.  There is no reason for this blog to go back to its normal G-rating.  Tomorrow, I have a surprised cooked up for you that includes another Don Juan Jupiter’s exploits.  I’ve been worrying for some time what to say about the letter “X”.  I had originally thought I’d write something about navigation but that’s not as fun...  As I pondered about my situation, I finally came up with another idea.  Stay tuned (and keep the kiddies away for another day as the blog will remain PG13)!  

Wednesday, April 26, 2017

V is for Venus

Our A-Z challenge journey through the sky is about over and today we have our last major heavenly body to explore: Venus.  Don’t worry, I will have posts for w, x, y, z, but they’re not going to be nearly as exciting as the ones so far.  For some reason, Jupiter (or Zeus) was never tempted to seduce a beautiful woman named Wanda,  Xinda, Yvonne, or Zanda, and then in consolation to their mistreatment by his wife, give them a place in the sky.  

Venus is a lovely planet from earth.  It’s close to the same size as our home planet, the second planet from the sun, and is a most inhospitable place and isn't very pretty close up.  It is the hottest planet, hotter than even Mercury even though it is further away from the sun.  Gas in the atmosphere traps in heat and the surface can be as hot as 870 degrees Fahrenheit.  That’s hot enough to melt lead.  The atmosphere is much heavier than earths and consist of Carbon Dioxide and Sulfuric Acid and other goodies.  You’d have to hold your nose because the smell, but the good news is that you’d not last long.  The surface is dry and dotted with volcanoes, some of which are still active.  Although the Venus year is only 220 days long (as it has less distance to circle the sun), it’s days are very long as are its nights as the planet slowly rotates. 

In ancient times, it was thought that Venus was two stars, the morning star named Lucifer and the evening star called Vespers.  But as astronomers began to figure things out, they realized it was on the same star and since it is closer to the sun than the earth, it is either seen in the morning or evening and never high overhead.   In the Bible, Venus as a morning star is referenced.  The King James Version translates Isaiah 14:13 as “O Lucifer, son of the morning.”  However, Lucifer is not in Hebrew.  The word Lucifer is Latin, meaning “Bearer of the Light.”  Although Venus sounds hellish enough for Lucifer, the reference to this star doesn’t always mean the devil or Satan.  In the last book of Scripture (Revelation 22:16), we read of Jesus speaking: “ I am the root and the descendant of David, the bright morning star.” 

Of course, the name Venus is taken from the Roman goddess of love and pleasure. 

If you want to see Venus, go out early tomorrow the morning.  The planet is the third brightest object in the sky (behind the Sun and moon) and can often be seen when other stars are not visible.  Look for it in East just before dawn, near the waning moon.  (If you are reading this blog later, check to see whether Venus is in the morning or evening sky). 

Tuesday, April 25, 2017

U is for Ursa Major

We're at U in our journey through the night sky in search of heavenly bodies as we complete April’s A-Z challenge.  Today it's Ursa Major, best known as the Big Dipper or the Plough.  It's one of the more familiar constellations for those readers who live in the northern hemisphere, where it can be seen most of the year as it circles the pole.  This will also, I promise, be the last time I tell of Jupiter (or Zeus’) sexual infidelities during this challenge.  We have heard so much of his seducing that I’m sure many of you have become tired of it. 

The seven stars that make up the Dipper are all bright and easily spotted, unlike the Little Dipper which have only dim stars with the exception of Polaris. But the constellation is much larger than just the dipper and represents a large mother bear in the sky.  The constellation is the third largest.

Ursa Major means Large She-Bear, while Ursa Minor is Small She-Bear.  To see the constellation, look north and for the familiar dipper pattern.  This constellation is also old and is referred to not only be Greek writers but also in the Bible.  In the 9th chapter, Job challenges his friends pointing out that God is the maker of the “Bear and Orion and the Pleiades.”  And then, at the end of the book, God responds to Job, “Can you bring forth the constellations in their seasons or lead out the Bear with its cubs?”  (Job 9:9 and 38:32).  Like other constellations, some cultures have seen different images with the dipper, such as the Babylonians seeing it as a wagon, northern European visualizing it as a plough, and the Azetc seeing one of their gods in the skies.  However, it's amazing how man cultures from Europe to Asia to Native Americans saw it as a bear.

Now concerning Mr. Don Juan Jupiter…  Callisto was the beautiful daughter of King Lycaon of Arcadia.  Like the girl in the Hunger Games, she loved to hunt and was good with a bow and arrow.  She worshiped Artemis, the goddess of the hunt, and pledged herself tot he goddess, promising to remain celibate.  But along comes Jupiter, who sees the beautiful girl taking a nap in the woods while she hunted.  Seeing a good opportunity, he changed himself into the likeness of Artemis and was able to engage in conversation with Callisto.  But his passion got the best of him and soon he forced himself on her, kissing her roughly and letting Callisto know that he was not Artemis, but Jupiter. Callistro resisted but she couldn’t keep Jupiter for doing what he intended. 
Again, Jupiter planted the seed and it was fertilized and grew and after nine months, Callisto gave birth to a son, Arcas.  When Juno, Jupiter’s wife, found out, she was furious and blamed Callistro and turned her into a bear.  Callistro now had to avoid hunters in the woods.  Years later she spotted a hunter who was her son, Arcas.  Forgetting she was a bear and took off to be reunited with her son, but he drew an arrow and shot it at the bear’s heart.  At this point Jupiter intervenes, saves Callistro, turns Arcas also into a bear and grabs both by the tail and toss them into the sky, where they were able to be together forever. 

Of course, Juno wasn’t happy about the immortality of Callistro and her son, so she arranged it that they never get to rest or take a bath, for they are doomed to rotate around the globe by the pole so that they never set (for resting is done when the constellation is behind the earth, the washing comes form setting in the ocean for a bath).  

Do you think Juno was taking out her anger on the victim and not the cause of her pain?

Monday, April 24, 2017

T is for Taurus (and this one ain't a Ford)

We are beginning our last week in April's A-Z challenge as we explore heavenly bodies.  For the letter T, we’re look for Taurus.  If you have a good dark eastern horizon, Taurus can be seen rising in the east an hour or so before Orion.  As Orion’s belt becomes visible, follow them up till you see the “V” in the sky.  The main “V” forms the Bull’s face with the bright star, Aldebaran, serving as the bull’s eye.  Many of the stars in the V make up the Hyades Cluster and although it appears that Aldebaran is one of them, it isn’t as it is much closer to earth than the other stars  The V, called Hyades, takes up but a little of Taurus.  The Pleiades (or the seven sisters) are the Bull’s shoulder.  As fall turns to winter, the bull is seen higher and higher in the sky.  Taurus is a part of the Zodiac, the band of stars around the equator in which the sun and planets move.

There are a couple of mythological stories relating to Taurus and Jupiter (or Zeus) playing a major role in both as he sought to commit yet another extra-marital affair.  One of the stories involved the over-sex god disguising himself as a beautiful and tame bull, that lured Europa (the beautiful daughter of the Phoenicia king) to climb on his back while she was playing by the sea.  Once she mounted the bull, he led her away through the sea.  As land disappeared, Europa held on tighter, till they came to Crete, where Jupiter seduced her.  Jupiter, it seems, never shot any blanks.  Europa conceived and gave birth to Minos, the king of Crete.  Missing children were tragic in antiquities, too. 

In another story, Jupiter fell in love with Io, who happened to be a priestess in the temple of Juno (Jupiter’s wife).  Learning of her husband’s affair, she change Io into a heifer and orders Argus to keep her prisoner.  Wanting to free Io, Jupiter asks Mercury to intervene and to kill Argus (who has 100 eyes so he sees all).  He decapitates Argus and Jupiter takes Io to Egypt and restores her into a woman, where she becomes the mother of Epaphus, ruler of the Nile.

The Greeks believed that Pleiades, the seven sisters, were the children of Atlas and Pleione.  They are also seen as a bunch of grapes and when Taurus and Orion are setting in the west, it appears the hunter is leaning in to fetch the grapes (however, he’d be butted by the bull if he’s not careful).  

Saturday, April 22, 2017

S is for summer constellations: Scorpius and Sagittarius

We’re looking for heavenly bodies in our A-Z tour during the month of April.  S is for Summer, which has two delightful constellations: Scorpius and Sagittarius.  We’ve met these guys when we looked at Orion, as their stories ties to Orion, but today we can spend a little more time on each.
Scorpius is the easiest to spot as it looks like a scorpion with two pinchers and a curved tail ready to sting.  In the summer, from North America, it is seen on the southern horizon.  It is the southern-most constellation in the Zodiac.  If you are too far north, like northern Michigan, you won’t see the full tail.  But here in Georgia, when I’m out on the water in the evening or have a clear view to the south, the pesky insect is clearly seen.  It is also in a rather dark part of the Milky Way, which is appropriate as scorpions like to hang out in dark cracks.  As we learned at Orion, the scorpion bite the great hunter, mortally wounding him, which is why you never see Orion and the scorpion in the sky at the same time. 

Not far from Scorpius is Sagittarius, a centaur, half human and half horse.  This constellation is the Comanche of the sky.  The Comanche became feared warriors not only to soldiers and settlers in West Texas, but also to neighboring tribes as they mastered the art of war from the back of a horse.  In a way, they were at one with their horse, while soldiers and even other Native American tribes used horses as transportation but would generally dismount to fight.  As there is another constellation featuring a centaur, named Centaurus, it creates some confusion. There is even a debate about which centaur is Chorion, with some saying it is Sagittarius and others saying it is Centaurus.  Chorion was married to Rhea, who was so jealous that he changed himself into a horse/man as a way to escape her, showing that there is at least 51 ways to leave your lover. 
 Although many people envision a teapot from the key stars in Sagittarius, I see a bow drawn back and aiming at the red star Antares, the heart of Scorpius.  To the east of Scorpius, Sagittarius is chasing the scorpion from the sky.  Sometime this summer, find yourself with a dark and uncluttered southern horizon and see if you can make out these constellations.  Of course, if you live in the southern hemisphere, you will find these constellations high in the northern sky.

Have you ever seen these two constellations?  

Should I have included the Sun in the letter S or is it too obvious?

Friday, April 21, 2017

R is for.... get this.... Reticulum

R is a difficult one for the A-Z heavenly body challenge.  There is only one of the eighty-eight modern constellations that begins with an R, Reticulum.  To my ears, the name sounds like something a physician might utilize in a prostate exam.  Thankfully I don’t have to worry about having it staring me in the face when I am admiring the stars as the constellation cannot be seen at all from the continental United States.  You might get a glimpse of it in the southern Hawaiian Islands from October through December, but even then it’s going to be low on the southern horizon.  The constellation is not seen at all above latitude 23 degrees north. 

Like many of the southern hemisphere constellations, Reticulum is a relatively recent addition to the lists of constellations.  It was identified in the early 17th Century, but not added to the official list of constellations until 1922.  There are no stories or myths associated with these group of faint stars that supposedly represents a net.   However, it’s not a fishnet, but the gird lines within a telescope, the reticle.   And good luck with seeing this constellation, especially without a telescope.  There are only six of the stars with a magnitude bright enough to be seen by the eye without magnification, and none of them are very bright.

In 2022, the constellation will officially be 100 years old?  Shall we throw a party?  We could all dress up like urologists.  On second thought, I’m sure I have something else scheduled.  What about you?  Would you be interested in a party celebrating Reticulum’s centennial?