Recent moments

April 16th, 2009

Moment 1.
The fields on campus are blooming purple, small flowers blanketing the hillsides with my favorite color. Christina tells me the flowers are called “stork’s bills,” and I almost don’t believe her until she brings in one of the plants to show me. A purple blossom adorns part of the plant, but incredibly long, pointed, green spikes also extend outwards. “Stork’s bill” suddenly becomes appropriate and understandable. I’m sad to learn that this little flower that covers the fields in purple is an invasive species.

Moment 2.
It’s early in the morning, and I’m biking to the shuttle to get up to campus. The air is thick with fog, salt, kelp, and cold. The ocean often intrudes like this, reaching inland and reminding us that we live on the edge of a vast expanse of water with its own climate. The fog will burn off by mid-morning, but often returns again as the sun sets. On those nights, while lying in bed, I can hear the lighthouse calling warnings into the darkness, accompanying the regular chorus of sea lions.

Moment 3.
She’s so close to the shore, this particular sea otter, closer than one normally gets to see. She’s doing sea otter things, rolling around to stay wet, diving under water to get food, splitting it open to eat. But after several moments of watching, we can also see that she has a baby sea otter on her belly. The little otter seems to cling plenty well enough to stay attached during the rolls, but also keeps jumping off to swim around on its own. Occasionally it tries to follow its mother on a dive, but doesn’t appear to have learned that skill particularly well yet, as it arches into the water over and over until it finally gets under for a brief moment. The mother lets the baby swim around, but big waves lead her to swim over and swoop it back up onto her belly with her tail. The interaction is endearing and mesmerizing, and hard to leave behind.

Moment 4.
Red has overtaken the previous purple, and the cows lounge around in their self-cropped fields. Across the road, where the cows will be moved next week, the plants have grown a couple feet high, and are dominated by white and yellow gangly flowers. It looks like rich eating, and I imagine the cows thrilled as they’re let out of their well-grazed pasture and led into belly-deep food. I don’t think it’s such a bad life being a cow on the UCSC campus.

Colors of a Live Earth Farm winter

February 7th, 2009

One of the things I try to be consciously thankful for on a regular basis is the local, organic produce that can be easily acquired while living on California’s central coast. I love vegetables, so it’s not hard to fully enjoy eating them, but I like to remind myself just how lucky I am to live in a place where I can get a remarkable variety of produce year-round.

For the last two years, I’ve bought into a cropshare program (or CSA: community supported agriculture), where I pay at the beginning of the season for my entire share, and then I get a box of vegetables delivered every week. My farm is called Live Earth Farm, and it’s pretty much the best farm ever (Shaleece will back me up on this). :) It’s located in Watsonville, and is just under 20 miles from my house, so it’s hard to get much more local than that. They deliver to several drop off points in Santa Cruz (and over the hill), so each week I walk three blocks to pick up my box of heaping vegetables. During the summer, the box comes with one or two baskets of strawberries every week, practically worth the cost of the box right there. It’s the best deal available in terms of price and quality, and it’s all organic. They are also the best vegetables and fruits I’ve ever tasted. Seriously.

So, their summer season lasts from April through November, and then you have the option of extending through the winter season, December through March. One might think that the winter season would be all cabbage and root vegetables, but you’d be surprised. There certainly is an abundance of cabbage (fortunately, I like cabbage), and a wide variety of root vegetables (carrots, parsnips, rutabaga, beets, etc.) that are wonderful roasted, but also lots of cooking greens, apples, brussels sprouts, onions, winter squash, romanesco, and so on. Despite being in the middle of January here, my box still comes packed full of richly colored, delectable edibles. My farm even cans their own tomatoes during the summer, and makes jam from their own apricots, so that we get jars of summer flavors during the winter.

I like having a farm that I can call “my farm.” I like being connected to the place that grows my food, to see pictures every week of what is growing, to hear stories of planting, and to have even had my hands in my farm’s soil (during their yearly harvest festival). I have neither the time nor the green thumb to grow my own food right now, so this is the next best thing. With the last winter box, Heidi was so taken with the beautiful colors that were stacked up on the countertop that we decided to take a few pictures. And so, I give you, the colors of a Live Earth Farm winter. :)

A New President

January 20th, 2009

This morning, I woke up, made myself a cup of tea, sat down on the couch, and turned on the TV. This is not my usual routine; in fact, I rarely turn on the TV at any time of day, much less first thing in the morning. But today was an unique day, a day when Barack Obama was sworn in as 44th President of the United States of America. I have cared enough about politics to write letters to the president at least since I was ten (see below!). I have cared enough about politics to vote, for my entire life as a voting-age citizen. I have cared enough about politics to volunteer, to make phonecalls, to donate money, for at least the last five years. I have never cared enough about politics to watch an inauguration ceremony, until this year. I wish I could have been in D.C.

There are a lot of reasons why I was excited about today. Admittedly, I was ready for the kind of hope and energy that Obama brings to office - I think hope is a good thing, as is appealing to the best parts of people’s personalities. And I hope that Obama will find a way to heal our country and our place in the world. I hope that Obama will truly tackle climate change, health care, human rights, and all of those other issues that need addressing in addition to the economy. I think he really has a chance to do it, despite our country’s current understandable preoccupation with the economy. I wish him the best of luck.

But in addition to all of that, it really was remarkable to see the first African-American inaugurated as president. I thought I might see it in my lifetime, but certainly not this soon. I can’t imagine what it must be like for people who lived through the civil rights movement in the 1950s and 1960s.

Two quotes stood out for me, as I watched Obama give his speech. As a scientist, “We will restore science to its rightful place” was a particularly welcome phrase to hear. And as an American, I was moved by this: “This is the meaning of our liberty and our creed - why men and women and children of every race and every faith can join in celebration across this magnificent mall, and why a man whose father less than sixty years ago might not have been served at a local restaurant can now stand before you to take a most sacred oath.”

This morning, I drank tea, watched the inauguration, and cried when Obama was sworn into office. Tonight, I find myself anticipating hearing what his policy announcements will be tomorrow. What an amazing part of history to be a part of.

Below, just for the fun of it, is my first recorded (i.e., saved on my computer) letter to a politician. I was ten.


November 28, 1988
Vice-President Bush
Washington, D.C.

Dear Vice-President Bush,
Congratulations on winning the election!
I think to pay off the debts we owe without raising taxes, you could take part of the money, like 1/2 or 1/4, that is paying for research on weapons and use it to handle the deficit.

Why do you oil drill along the coast? It kills a lot of animals that live on our coast line and destroys habitats. One of these days we will run out of oil and nobody will know what to do. I think you should start doing more research on solar power and other things.

I think you should stop sending weapons to Nicaragua. You could keep signing peace treaties to destroy some of our weapons and slow down the arms race. I think it would be neat to have a world full of peace. Then we wouldn't have a lot of danger of some place being blown up. If we keep working our way to peace we will have a kinder and gentler nation just like you wanted!

Sincerely,

Cristie Boone
5th Grade

Final thoughts from Guatemala (August 13, 2008)

I want to remember the corn growing up the sides of mountains that look too steep to climb. I can't imagine what effort it must take to plant corn on such slopes, nor to harvest it. I can't imagine a life that makes such effort worth the return. I know that clearing forest to plant the corn worsens erosion and shrinks natural habitat, but the corn looks beautiful as it spills down the hillsides.


I want to remember the vibrancy of the Chichicastenango market, the colorful fabrics, the beautiful vegetables and fruits, and most of all the nearly hidden middle of the market where the local people cook and eat and shop and sell for themselves, not just the tourists. I had the best fried chicken of my life in the center of Chichi's Thursday market, and the following day a delicious traditional breakfast of eggs and beans. They came with chile powder and jalapeños as optional condiments, the chile powder described as "picante" (spicy), and the fresh sliced jalapeños described as "non picante" (not spicy). I want to remember the essential sound of Chichi's market - the clapping arising from so many women continuously making fresh corn tortillas by hand throughout the day. Fresh corn tortillas come with every meal here, as well they should.



I want to remember how many things are transported by carrying or by bicycle here. Giant loads of cloths or other street stand goods are bundled up into blankets, or large baskets in turn wrapped in blankets. With creative tying, the ends of the blankets are brought across the shoulders and chest, or sometimes the forehead, and then walked down the street. I don't know how much some of those bundles weighed, but I'm sure the weight they carry with their bodies would put our strength to shame. No ergonomic considerations here, no workers comp or sense that something might be too heavy or too hard to carry. It just gets done, because it has to, and frequently happens over steep hills that we Americans breathe heavily while walking up when we're not carrying anything.

I want to remember how frustrating it is to only be able to understand so much, and to say even less. My Spanish improved throughout the trip, but I would like to know more before returning to a Spanish speaking country. I am learning to formulate my questions, but am missing a lot of the language structure that I think would help. Living in California, it probably is about time I really tried to learn some Spanish.

I want to remember how beautiful the mountains and valleys and volcanoes of Guatemala are. The pine forests of the highlands, the jungle of the lowlands, and the pervasive farmlands each have their own personality and their own draw. The jungle in particular grows plants and animals in sizes and shapes I'm thoroughly not used to. Toucans with their giant beaks and tiny streamlined bodies, howler monkeys that sound like dying or injured animals at 3 o'clock in the morning, the gigantic larvae of something, the funny lizard guy that ran upright on two legs when startled, an insect that makes sounds like a sprinkler alternating with an electric wood saw...



I want to remember how to make traveling days part of the adventure, to be happy with a space on the bus even if it's only half a seat, and to be willing to just go with what happens because sometimes you just can't figure out what's going on. I want to remember that fruit should always be mouthwatering, that tortillas should always be hot off the griddle, that lemonade should always be fresh, and the milk for your coffee served steamed. I want to remember that taking a complete break from work is refreshing, invigorating, renewing, and healthy.

To adventures, journeys, and experiences...