OK, that is just insane

Braving the chilly Hudson River in just a speedo, I mean. We've had very little weather that even qualifies as warm recently, and none of the heat and humidity that's typical for this time of year.

Sunday bird blogging

I actually saw a double-crested cormorant sitting on a piling in the Hudson River yesterday. I have never seen one in New York before.

It was gray and drizzly and the bird was too far away to photograph, so here's a picture of a different cormorant in Lake Anza in Berkeley.

Saturday reflections

Pier 34 on the Hudson in the rain this morning. One of my fellow teachers was doing a mile and a half swim in the river today, and several of us turned out to cheer her on.

Urban poetry

A garage or maybe storage in Tijuca National Park in Rio. I like the seating!

Astronomy Tuesday

It has been a long time since I posted one of these, but this image caught my eye: the twisted disk galaxy NGC 4753.

There was probably a collision with a satellite galaxy a billion years or so ago, resulting in these filaments of dust. Gravity is hard on all of us.

Image Credit: NASA, ESA, Hubble; Processing: Alexander Reinartz

Saturday reflections

Palm trees reflected in a car window in Berkeley.

The Four Elephant Seals of the Apocalypse

The one on the left is being gently reminded to turn around and face the camera.

Sunday bird blogging

I have many similar photos of this group of Gentoos in Cierva Cove, but I love all of them. I wish I knew what was going on in those little penguin brains.

Saturday reflections

This one has been sitting in the folder for a while—the no longer used El Ferdan Railway bridge in the Suez Canal.

Penguin went a-courtin'

If you look closely at this gentoo in Mikkelsen Harbor you can see that he's carrying one of the very important courtship pebbles in his beak.

Whale bones

There were whale bones all over the beach at Mikkelson Harbor, along with the ruins of a wooden boat.

Back in Antarctica

Looking down on the landing site in Mikkelsen Harbor. This picture gives a sense of scale that I wasn't always able to capture—how small I sometimes felt, with the mountains and glaciers just looming above us.