I have been thinking about our most recent trip, and the past one.
On both trips, I had the experience of driving in a place I did not know well, where the road signs were in a language which is not my strength. It made me think about what it must be like for the tourists who visit the US. One good think is the movement towards a universal system of symbols for use on road signs. That was a plus. But then there are the "construction zone" signs. They are bad enough in English, but they are even harder in an unfamiliar language. I managed through a detour, but partly because the map function worked so well on my cell phone. (Yes, we had signed up for the international data plan to be activated.)
I most certainly appreciate some of the road signage that I used to take for granted. One of them is route numbers, and signs to cities. On our most recent adventure, I drove from Changuinola to David. The first part of the trip was on a fairly major road from Changuinola to Chirquiri Grande. On the way the road goes through and by several large-ish communities. Only once was there a road sign pointing to one of the towns (Almirante), to which we had already been, and wanted to get past.
Showing posts with label driving. Show all posts
Showing posts with label driving. Show all posts
Wednesday, April 11, 2012
Sunday, April 01, 2012
Random thoughts about travel and travel in Panama
I have been thinking about our most recent trip, and the past one.
On both trips, I had the experience of driving in a place I did not know well, where the road signs were in a language which is not my strength. It made me think about what it must be like for the tourists who visit the US. One good think is the movement towards a universal system of symbols for use on road signs. That was a plus. But then there are the "construction zone" signs. They are bad enough in English, but they are even harder in an unfamiliar language. I managed through a detour, but partly because the map function worked so well on my cell phone. (Yes, we had signed up for the international data plan to be activated.)
I most certainly appreciate some of the road signage that I used to take for granted. One of them is route numbers, and signs to cities. On our most recent adventure, I drove from Changuinola to David. The first part of the trip was on a fairly major road from Changuinola to Chiriqui Grande. On the way the road goes through and by several large-ish communities. Only once was there a road sign pointing to one of the towns (Almirante), to which we had already been, and wanted to get past. I think the signpost at the one turning had been knocked over. But, not once was there a route number sign.
I made sure we were on the right road by asking at the gas station which, it turns out, was at the point where we needed to turn. (I did have a detailed map, but I was concerned.)
The road over the mountains (Chiriqui Grande to Chiriqui) was an adventure. It was two lanes, curving (sometimes without guard rails), and long, steep upgrades followed by the reverse. I was worried about getting through the Comarca Ngobe-Bugle (independent area governed by the indigenous people) before dark. On our trip leaving Bocas, one of our water taxi companions had mentioned possible disturbances after the President's speech that night.
On both trips, I had the experience of driving in a place I did not know well, where the road signs were in a language which is not my strength. It made me think about what it must be like for the tourists who visit the US. One good think is the movement towards a universal system of symbols for use on road signs. That was a plus. But then there are the "construction zone" signs. They are bad enough in English, but they are even harder in an unfamiliar language. I managed through a detour, but partly because the map function worked so well on my cell phone. (Yes, we had signed up for the international data plan to be activated.)
I most certainly appreciate some of the road signage that I used to take for granted. One of them is route numbers, and signs to cities. On our most recent adventure, I drove from Changuinola to David. The first part of the trip was on a fairly major road from Changuinola to Chiriqui Grande. On the way the road goes through and by several large-ish communities. Only once was there a road sign pointing to one of the towns (Almirante), to which we had already been, and wanted to get past. I think the signpost at the one turning had been knocked over. But, not once was there a route number sign.
I made sure we were on the right road by asking at the gas station which, it turns out, was at the point where we needed to turn. (I did have a detailed map, but I was concerned.)
The road over the mountains (Chiriqui Grande to Chiriqui) was an adventure. It was two lanes, curving (sometimes without guard rails), and long, steep upgrades followed by the reverse. I was worried about getting through the Comarca Ngobe-Bugle (independent area governed by the indigenous people) before dark. On our trip leaving Bocas, one of our water taxi companions had mentioned possible disturbances after the President's speech that night.
Monday, August 15, 2011
A Statistic -- Oh, and license plates
Well, I was bold enough in my last post to observe about the number of cars on the side of the road. Last Friday night, I became one of them.
For a couple weeks, off and on, the tire pressure warning light would come on in my car. One tire seemed to lose air (rear, passenger side). I'd fill it up and it would be good for a week or more. I had done this the weekend before, and on Friday morning, the light came on. I didn't think too much, and after work headed out to the Interstate (about 1/2 mile). As I accelerated up the ramp, the car sounded different. But with sort of heavy traffic, it was hard to pull over. About a mile and a half, there was a safe spot, on the side of the road, and it was even in the shade. I pulled out the car battery-powered tire pump and plugged it in.
After about 10 minutes, nothing had changed, and I decided it was time to pull out the spare. First I had to grab the book and see where the jack went, and had to get some of the items stored in the trunk into the back seat. Other than a moment of panic when I could not find the special nut for the "anti-theft" device on the tire, it went smoothly. Of course, I had just lowered the car, and was getting ready to do the final tightening of the nuts when the Motorist Assistance Patrol van arrived. So, about 45 minutes later, I was back on the road.
Only to get to LaPlace, where despite the lack of warning on the traffic signs, traffic was backed up all along the 12 mile bridge. I don't know what the problem was, but after a long, hard, stop-and-go drive, I got off as soon as I could. It was traffic for the Saints game.
Oh, one thing I have noticed is that you can see a large variety of license plates here. In addition to the usual neighboring states (Texas, Arkansas, Mississippi), and other nearby states (Alabama, Florida, Georgia), I recently passed a car with plates from Alaska. It is not uncommon to see other Midwest/Mississippi River state plates (Missouri, Tennessee, Kentucky, Illinois, Iowa, Wisconsin, Minnesota). I think that it is the schools (universities) that attract folks from New York, Connecticut, Washington, California, Colorado, New Jersey. Some day I'll get ambitious (organized?) and track them.
For a couple weeks, off and on, the tire pressure warning light would come on in my car. One tire seemed to lose air (rear, passenger side). I'd fill it up and it would be good for a week or more. I had done this the weekend before, and on Friday morning, the light came on. I didn't think too much, and after work headed out to the Interstate (about 1/2 mile). As I accelerated up the ramp, the car sounded different. But with sort of heavy traffic, it was hard to pull over. About a mile and a half, there was a safe spot, on the side of the road, and it was even in the shade. I pulled out the car battery-powered tire pump and plugged it in.
After about 10 minutes, nothing had changed, and I decided it was time to pull out the spare. First I had to grab the book and see where the jack went, and had to get some of the items stored in the trunk into the back seat. Other than a moment of panic when I could not find the special nut for the "anti-theft" device on the tire, it went smoothly. Of course, I had just lowered the car, and was getting ready to do the final tightening of the nuts when the Motorist Assistance Patrol van arrived. So, about 45 minutes later, I was back on the road.
Only to get to LaPlace, where despite the lack of warning on the traffic signs, traffic was backed up all along the 12 mile bridge. I don't know what the problem was, but after a long, hard, stop-and-go drive, I got off as soon as I could. It was traffic for the Saints game.
Oh, one thing I have noticed is that you can see a large variety of license plates here. In addition to the usual neighboring states (Texas, Arkansas, Mississippi), and other nearby states (Alabama, Florida, Georgia), I recently passed a car with plates from Alaska. It is not uncommon to see other Midwest/Mississippi River state plates (Missouri, Tennessee, Kentucky, Illinois, Iowa, Wisconsin, Minnesota). I think that it is the schools (universities) that attract folks from New York, Connecticut, Washington, California, Colorado, New Jersey. Some day I'll get ambitious (organized?) and track them.
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
Reflections on Driving
With the Library Day in the Life project over, perhaps I have been in a more reflective mood than I have been in a while.
Perhaps too, for those who actually look at the sidebar to this, and not just the feed, I have been listening more to the radio (generally NPR) as I commute to and from work.
I have been reflecting on some of the similarities and differences in my drive now, and drives I have done in the past. The beginning and end of each drive is city driving. Not much to say about that, it is what it is. In Baton Rouge they are doing a project to widen parts of I-10 between the I-10/I-12 split and the edge of the city. It seems to me that it is being done in a somewhat haphazard way, with some parts having work completed, but not being able to be connected to other parts. And, frankly, there is a stretch where the new road surface is a foot or more above the currently used surface, and I wonder how that will be resolved.
The parts between the cities vary between suburban and very rural. Some of the drive is literally swamp (Maurepas Swamp Wildlife Management Area).
One thing I noticed some time ago, I don't see much roadkill along the highway. Once in a while there is a dead armadillo. In a huge change from both Wisconsin and Connecticut, I have never seen a dead deer by the side of the road. On the other hand, "dead" vehicles are there all the time. In the 80 mile trip, there are an average of about 8 vehicles on the side of the road. Most have one tire off. Some remain there for extended periods of time (as in, more than a week).
One thing I know from experience, in Connecticut, they don't let cars sit there very long. Deer can be there for a while, but cars no. I don't have a strong recollection of vehicles along the road in the Upper Midwest where I lived, but there were often deer, turkeys, even the odd coyote or wolf.
Perhaps too, for those who actually look at the sidebar to this, and not just the feed, I have been listening more to the radio (generally NPR) as I commute to and from work.
I have been reflecting on some of the similarities and differences in my drive now, and drives I have done in the past. The beginning and end of each drive is city driving. Not much to say about that, it is what it is. In Baton Rouge they are doing a project to widen parts of I-10 between the I-10/I-12 split and the edge of the city. It seems to me that it is being done in a somewhat haphazard way, with some parts having work completed, but not being able to be connected to other parts. And, frankly, there is a stretch where the new road surface is a foot or more above the currently used surface, and I wonder how that will be resolved.
The parts between the cities vary between suburban and very rural. Some of the drive is literally swamp (Maurepas Swamp Wildlife Management Area).
One thing I noticed some time ago, I don't see much roadkill along the highway. Once in a while there is a dead armadillo. In a huge change from both Wisconsin and Connecticut, I have never seen a dead deer by the side of the road. On the other hand, "dead" vehicles are there all the time. In the 80 mile trip, there are an average of about 8 vehicles on the side of the road. Most have one tire off. Some remain there for extended periods of time (as in, more than a week).
One thing I know from experience, in Connecticut, they don't let cars sit there very long. Deer can be there for a while, but cars no. I don't have a strong recollection of vehicles along the road in the Upper Midwest where I lived, but there were often deer, turkeys, even the odd coyote or wolf.
Saturday, January 15, 2011
The Car
In the history of my writing, and also earlier in this blog, I often talked about my vehicle. I have not done so very much recently. Even though I drive 80 miles each way, every day to work, my car has been very reliable. It is a Volkswagen Jetta which I purchased almost three years ago in Wisconsin.
Well, yesterday on my way home from work, I passed a milestone: the car turned 100,000 miles. It is definitely the shortest time it has taken me to reach that milestone. The photo above shows the dashboard -- note that I pulled over to take the photo.
Below is the view out the windshield where this momentous milestone was reached...a couple miles west of the I-10 exit for US-61 (Airline Highway). It is the middle of nowhere! If you look on a map, that is very clear.
Here's to many more driving miles in my car!
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
Writing/Blogging
As I pulled into the parking lot at work today my almost 3 year old car turned 98,000 miles exactly.
What does that have to do with writing and blogging?
I got to thinking about some of the work-related writing I have done over the years, and this blog as well. Back when I was first a library director, I had not yet begun the habit of writing monthly reports for my Board, but I did have to write for the Annual Report. It was not a difficult task, and only occurred once a year. But then, after almost a decade I changed jobs.
I became the Executive Director of the Southern Connecticut Library Council (SCLC), a multi-type, cooperative library organization with schools, academic, public, and "special" libraries as members. [SCLC no longer exists.] There were two parts to the writing. First was a monthly report to the board. That was not so difficult, and my audience was only a dozen or so. However the monthly newsletter was different. The Director's column was on the front, and we printed multiple copies to send to our 300+ members. It scared me at first. However, I soon got used to it.
It was interesting to find out what people reacted to. During that time I also served a year as the president of the Connecticut Library Association. For the newsletter I had to write a column also, and it had to be different than the SCLC one, since most of the SCLC members were also CLA members. That is where we loop back to the opening of this post about my car. In both of the columns I wrote that year, I included occasional persona snippets including about the car which I was then driving, and turned 100,000 miles. I told stories about driving and the car at the end of some of my columns (in both publications). I was amazed at how many people commented on those remarks.
It occurs to me, that the reason is that so many own a car that they can really identify with the situations I described. (BTW, I did talk about driving in earlier posts (in chronological order): July 2005, and again, June 2008, August 2008, March 2009, and August 2009.
Now, in thinking about the writing thing, it occurs to me that blogging has helped to channel what has become a need to write. It was stirred by my SCLC/CLA experience. What I did not note is that starting with the SCLC job, and continuing through my next two directorships, I instituted a monthly written directors report. In both of those cases, I wrote the initial part, and then compiled from the reports which I requested from each of my "direct reports."
Interestingly, I was recently catching up on links and blogs and found that Andy Woodworth also wrestled with the issue of "why do I write" in a recent post.
Unlike some colleagues, I am not a trained writer. [I am thinking in particular of Karen Schneider who has an MFA in writing.] And I would note that I am not even as talented a writer as Walt Crawford who often downplays his talent in this area. Here is a link to his "writing and blogging" category. In so many ways I am a hacker at this writing thing. I know that I am more unpolished as a blogger than I was as a column writer or even as a library director reporting. In all those cases I had editors and someone to review and make suggestions for editorial revisions. At the same time, for me, and many others, this is a great outlet.
What does that have to do with writing and blogging?
I got to thinking about some of the work-related writing I have done over the years, and this blog as well. Back when I was first a library director, I had not yet begun the habit of writing monthly reports for my Board, but I did have to write for the Annual Report. It was not a difficult task, and only occurred once a year. But then, after almost a decade I changed jobs.
I became the Executive Director of the Southern Connecticut Library Council (SCLC), a multi-type, cooperative library organization with schools, academic, public, and "special" libraries as members. [SCLC no longer exists.] There were two parts to the writing. First was a monthly report to the board. That was not so difficult, and my audience was only a dozen or so. However the monthly newsletter was different. The Director's column was on the front, and we printed multiple copies to send to our 300+ members. It scared me at first. However, I soon got used to it.
It was interesting to find out what people reacted to. During that time I also served a year as the president of the Connecticut Library Association. For the newsletter I had to write a column also, and it had to be different than the SCLC one, since most of the SCLC members were also CLA members. That is where we loop back to the opening of this post about my car. In both of the columns I wrote that year, I included occasional persona snippets including about the car which I was then driving, and turned 100,000 miles. I told stories about driving and the car at the end of some of my columns (in both publications). I was amazed at how many people commented on those remarks.
It occurs to me, that the reason is that so many own a car that they can really identify with the situations I described. (BTW, I did talk about driving in earlier posts (in chronological order): July 2005, and again, June 2008, August 2008, March 2009, and August 2009.
Now, in thinking about the writing thing, it occurs to me that blogging has helped to channel what has become a need to write. It was stirred by my SCLC/CLA experience. What I did not note is that starting with the SCLC job, and continuing through my next two directorships, I instituted a monthly written directors report. In both of those cases, I wrote the initial part, and then compiled from the reports which I requested from each of my "direct reports."
Interestingly, I was recently catching up on links and blogs and found that Andy Woodworth also wrestled with the issue of "why do I write" in a recent post.
Unlike some colleagues, I am not a trained writer. [I am thinking in particular of Karen Schneider who has an MFA in writing.] And I would note that I am not even as talented a writer as Walt Crawford who often downplays his talent in this area. Here is a link to his "writing and blogging" category. In so many ways I am a hacker at this writing thing. I know that I am more unpolished as a blogger than I was as a column writer or even as a library director reporting. In all those cases I had editors and someone to review and make suggestions for editorial revisions. At the same time, for me, and many others, this is a great outlet.
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
"The Commute"
I've been thinking about this for a bit, and wanted to share some commuting reflections as well as comments about what I get to see every day on my way to work.
My current commute (each way) is longer than all of my prior commutes combined. One way it is double what my two longest commutes were. I drive almost exactly 80 miles each way. That's 160 miles a day, or 800 miles a week. I've been tracking my mileage (and MPG). In 2009, I drove over 35,000 miles with an average MPG of just about 28.
People wonder how I can do it. Well, I can tell you that part of the reason this commute is not such a killer is that it is predictable. It is about the same time each day, with predictable trouble spots, and it predictably longer (in time) going home than coming in. For 9 years I drove a route where I never knew how long it would take. Some days it was 30 minutes (for the 20 mile drive). Other days it was an hour or more. There was lots of traffic, and an accident on one roadway would result in tie-ups on the others. It was not predictable, and it was tough.
So, reflections on this commute include: the sun, the route, scenery, roadside "events," highlights.
In this winter season, I get to see the sunrise in my rear view mirror, and I get to see the sunset in that same mirror. Some of them are pretty spectacular. What I have noticed recently is that frequently even the clouds in the opposite direction can be as beautiful and colorful as the ones around the sun. Tuesday (1/12) was a perfect example. The low, scattered clouds in the east took on the pinks and purples of the setting sun, and created a great view as I trekked home. Eventually, I will get to do the drive in full sunlight, and I do look forward to that.
Each morning, I head out on Carrollton Ave, along side the streetcar line. I go past the end/beginning of the line the mile and a half to I-10, passing the Archdiocese of New Orleans Seminary, and a cluster of stores and restaurants between Earhart and the Interstate. The trip on the Interstate is what folks see coming into town from the airport. Cemeteries, the malls, etc. line the road. Just after the airport exit, the highway passes the end of the runway. It is not unusual to see planes taking off or landing immediately overhead. (It is kind of cool, if somewhat close.)
Then, after the rest of Kenner, it is across swampland to the lake. In the area of the interchange with I-310 are a bunch of trees (lakeside) where there are often a large number of egrets roosting for the night. They sit on the branches with their heads tucked under the wings. Big white spots on the trees. Just past, on the other side, are some cypress trees, and in the top of one of them is a large nest. Last summer I would have sworn I saw a bald eagle nesting there.
Then it is on the to the end of Lake Pontchartrain and the Bonnet Carré Spillway. The lake is fairly shallow, and with winds from the East or Northeast, there can be waves which seem to raise the water level. However, with no wind, or winds from West/Southwest and a low tide, the lake can seem rather low. (However that is a difference of only about 2 feet...not really tidal in my mind.) The bridge from the St. Charles Parish border to the I-55 interchange is about 12 miles. (If you go north on I-55, there is another 20+ continuous miles of bridges.) On I-10, you hit solid ground for the weigh station (usually open) and two exits for Laplace. Then it is another 4 - 5 miles of bridge across swamp to solid ground.
The next stretch is where I see more cars along side the road. From the end of the bridge to US-61 is about 15 miles of nothing but swamp. There are some areas which are "DMAP Posted No Trespassing." There are only one or two exits, and no visible buildings. At night (going home in winter) it can seem desolate. There is more swamp after US-61 before hitting the edges of the Baton Rouge metro area. Exit 177 has a large outlet mall and a very large Cabela's store.
It is usually somewhere after there that I hit traffic going in, and lose it going home. There is construction going on from Exit 166 past Exit 160 to the I-12 interchange. I just hope it is a widening of the road, because it seems like a choke point. After I-12 merges in, what you see is malls and urban area. The last stretch, I-110 to the exit, can be tense with folks merging in from I-10 on the left and then a series of three left exits. But by then I am home free -- or standing in traffic on my way home.
Once (just before Christmas), I did see a couple of deer standing along side the road. However, I have not seen a dead deer (road kill) in the more than a year. There is the occasional racoon or nutria. More often than not, the northern equivalent of "roadkill" is the dead vehicle. Sometimes the vehicle is there for a day and gone, and at other times it seems like a week or more.
At this time of year, there are not only the "road kill vehicles" but, further off the road, closer to the "swamp/forest" are the big pick-up trucks. These are clearly hunters. A couple of times I have seen them pulling on waders, and/or getting ready for hunting. There are also sometimes fishermen (sometimes with boats and trailers). There is no fence between the highway and the natural area...gives lots of access!
Anyway...that is my daily commute.
My current commute (each way) is longer than all of my prior commutes combined. One way it is double what my two longest commutes were. I drive almost exactly 80 miles each way. That's 160 miles a day, or 800 miles a week. I've been tracking my mileage (and MPG). In 2009, I drove over 35,000 miles with an average MPG of just about 28.
People wonder how I can do it. Well, I can tell you that part of the reason this commute is not such a killer is that it is predictable. It is about the same time each day, with predictable trouble spots, and it predictably longer (in time) going home than coming in. For 9 years I drove a route where I never knew how long it would take. Some days it was 30 minutes (for the 20 mile drive). Other days it was an hour or more. There was lots of traffic, and an accident on one roadway would result in tie-ups on the others. It was not predictable, and it was tough.
So, reflections on this commute include: the sun, the route, scenery, roadside "events," highlights.
In this winter season, I get to see the sunrise in my rear view mirror, and I get to see the sunset in that same mirror. Some of them are pretty spectacular. What I have noticed recently is that frequently even the clouds in the opposite direction can be as beautiful and colorful as the ones around the sun. Tuesday (1/12) was a perfect example. The low, scattered clouds in the east took on the pinks and purples of the setting sun, and created a great view as I trekked home. Eventually, I will get to do the drive in full sunlight, and I do look forward to that.
Each morning, I head out on Carrollton Ave, along side the streetcar line. I go past the end/beginning of the line the mile and a half to I-10, passing the Archdiocese of New Orleans Seminary, and a cluster of stores and restaurants between Earhart and the Interstate. The trip on the Interstate is what folks see coming into town from the airport. Cemeteries, the malls, etc. line the road. Just after the airport exit, the highway passes the end of the runway. It is not unusual to see planes taking off or landing immediately overhead. (It is kind of cool, if somewhat close.)
Then, after the rest of Kenner, it is across swampland to the lake. In the area of the interchange with I-310 are a bunch of trees (lakeside) where there are often a large number of egrets roosting for the night. They sit on the branches with their heads tucked under the wings. Big white spots on the trees. Just past, on the other side, are some cypress trees, and in the top of one of them is a large nest. Last summer I would have sworn I saw a bald eagle nesting there.
Then it is on the to the end of Lake Pontchartrain and the Bonnet Carré Spillway. The lake is fairly shallow, and with winds from the East or Northeast, there can be waves which seem to raise the water level. However, with no wind, or winds from West/Southwest and a low tide, the lake can seem rather low. (However that is a difference of only about 2 feet...not really tidal in my mind.) The bridge from the St. Charles Parish border to the I-55 interchange is about 12 miles. (If you go north on I-55, there is another 20+ continuous miles of bridges.) On I-10, you hit solid ground for the weigh station (usually open) and two exits for Laplace. Then it is another 4 - 5 miles of bridge across swamp to solid ground.
The next stretch is where I see more cars along side the road. From the end of the bridge to US-61 is about 15 miles of nothing but swamp. There are some areas which are "DMAP Posted No Trespassing." There are only one or two exits, and no visible buildings. At night (going home in winter) it can seem desolate. There is more swamp after US-61 before hitting the edges of the Baton Rouge metro area. Exit 177 has a large outlet mall and a very large Cabela's store.
It is usually somewhere after there that I hit traffic going in, and lose it going home. There is construction going on from Exit 166 past Exit 160 to the I-12 interchange. I just hope it is a widening of the road, because it seems like a choke point. After I-12 merges in, what you see is malls and urban area. The last stretch, I-110 to the exit, can be tense with folks merging in from I-10 on the left and then a series of three left exits. But by then I am home free -- or standing in traffic on my way home.
Once (just before Christmas), I did see a couple of deer standing along side the road. However, I have not seen a dead deer (road kill) in the more than a year. There is the occasional racoon or nutria. More often than not, the northern equivalent of "roadkill" is the dead vehicle. Sometimes the vehicle is there for a day and gone, and at other times it seems like a week or more.
At this time of year, there are not only the "road kill vehicles" but, further off the road, closer to the "swamp/forest" are the big pick-up trucks. These are clearly hunters. A couple of times I have seen them pulling on waders, and/or getting ready for hunting. There are also sometimes fishermen (sometimes with boats and trailers). There is no fence between the highway and the natural area...gives lots of access!
Anyway...that is my daily commute.
Monday, December 21, 2009
Links - End of December
Great article I picked up from Stephen Abram. He uses this stop light analogy to ask us (as librarians) to think about unintended consequences.Cute picture here (from Boing Boing, I can't remember who pointed to it). It reminds me of the old TV show Green Acres!
You have to admire when someone admits that they do not do something as well as they think they should and points to a better example. David Lee King does this in talking about inviting comments.
And then there is the topic of Ebooks. First a set of predictions for 2010, then a free Ebook from Seth Godin.
One of my online/virtual friends is an academic library director (and happens to be at the undergraduate alma mater for one of my brothers and his wife -- SUNY Potsdam). She has an interesting post about "redecorating" a stairwell which was not originally part of the designed public space in the building. They let students do it! Graffiti as art! Way to go, Jenica!
The Unquiet Librarian (Buffy Hamilton) has a guest blog piece about "What makes a Library a Library?" It is good reading.
Friday, March 27, 2009
Spring is sprung and other reflections
It is spring -- at least in southern Louisiana. I have now been driving I-10 from New Orleans to Baton Rouge daily since December 1. It is about the same distance as from Eau Claire [WI] to the Twin Cities. I have noted some significant differences, besides the volume of traffic.
The first part of the trip after leaving the New Orleans metro area is across a swampy area, the Bonnet Carre Spillway, and more swamps. It is over 25 miles of bridges in the first 35 miles of the trip. After that, there is not much "built environment" until you get to the outskirts of Baton Rouge. I first drove the route right after Hurricane Gustav, and noticed that not only were there trees downed, but there were not many leaves on the trees. While my next several trips along the route were space out (early October, late November), the leaves never came back. Of course, it was soon "winter" in Louisiana.
About a month ago, I began to notice that there were "red buds" on some trees, and that others were getting green-ish at the tips. Well, in the month since then, the trees (many stripped bare at the end of August) have fully leafed out. It is a much prettier drive.
Here, we had a dry winter. However, after a couple of days of thunderstorms, I will note that it does not take long for the water to come back -- or it may just be a case of not draining quickly. Many places that were swampy last fall had dried up over the winter. But this morning I particularly noticed how high the water was in Lake Pontchartrain, and that not only the swampy areas along side the road, but the medians had filled with water.
One big difference is what you see along the shoulders. Last winter/spring, I counted over twenty dead deer, and many other dead animals on a trip from Eau Claire to the Cities. Here, while there is the occasional small, unidentified road kill, I have only seen one dead deer -- and that was gone in 24 hours, unlike the upper Midwest. What there is instead, are vehicles. There were a dozen or so (not counting the accident which had just occurred) along the side of the road as I drove this morning. Some of them have been there for several days to a week. I am not sure what it means.
Over the weekend I will be adding some recent Baton Rouge photos to my Flickr account (and will come back and insert a link). The flowers are out, and when it is not raining, it is very nice to walk around the Capitol grounds. There are many trees, flowering shrubs, and even flowers. With the day-time temperatures getting into the low 80s, it is very nice -- especially when the humidity is low. We will see what the summer means!
The first part of the trip after leaving the New Orleans metro area is across a swampy area, the Bonnet Carre Spillway, and more swamps. It is over 25 miles of bridges in the first 35 miles of the trip. After that, there is not much "built environment" until you get to the outskirts of Baton Rouge. I first drove the route right after Hurricane Gustav, and noticed that not only were there trees downed, but there were not many leaves on the trees. While my next several trips along the route were space out (early October, late November), the leaves never came back. Of course, it was soon "winter" in Louisiana.
About a month ago, I began to notice that there were "red buds" on some trees, and that others were getting green-ish at the tips. Well, in the month since then, the trees (many stripped bare at the end of August) have fully leafed out. It is a much prettier drive.
Here, we had a dry winter. However, after a couple of days of thunderstorms, I will note that it does not take long for the water to come back -- or it may just be a case of not draining quickly. Many places that were swampy last fall had dried up over the winter. But this morning I particularly noticed how high the water was in Lake Pontchartrain, and that not only the swampy areas along side the road, but the medians had filled with water.
One big difference is what you see along the shoulders. Last winter/spring, I counted over twenty dead deer, and many other dead animals on a trip from Eau Claire to the Cities. Here, while there is the occasional small, unidentified road kill, I have only seen one dead deer -- and that was gone in 24 hours, unlike the upper Midwest. What there is instead, are vehicles. There were a dozen or so (not counting the accident which had just occurred) along the side of the road as I drove this morning. Some of them have been there for several days to a week. I am not sure what it means.
Over the weekend I will be adding some recent Baton Rouge photos to my Flickr account (and will come back and insert a link). The flowers are out, and when it is not raining, it is very nice to walk around the Capitol grounds. There are many trees, flowering shrubs, and even flowers. With the day-time temperatures getting into the low 80s, it is very nice -- especially when the humidity is low. We will see what the summer means!
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)