Topics I spent time/energy on today, in no particular order….
Stress…the basic physiology of it…from the what-happens-inside standpoint. This lead me to stress reduction…deep breathing techniques to calm the vagus nerve and reduce heart rate variability (aka HRV). My health tracker reports “stress” and HRV is what it measures. And my HRV numbers could be improved…so the lesson is: breathe differently. Well, how? Nasal breathing…for the inhale (new vocab: aka inspiration [haha; not kidding]), especially nasal diaphragmatic breathing, especially when exercising (expect a learning curve). Point of information: parasympathetic and sympathetic nervous systems—they work together/offset each other, and both are components of the autonomic nervous system—ANS)—you want to enhance the parasympathetic to reduce HRV. Somehow this also relates to fat-burning*. Man, this is a complex subject. Still learning/processing. Rather confused as the “breathing on the parasympathetic side” means increased HRV…I think. On the other hand, decreased HRV is not good as higher HRV is associated with reduced morbidity and mortality. Arrrrgh! Wait…a clarification: higher HRV with physical activity is fine/expected; it’s too-high HRV during rest/relaxation that is not-good.
Coffee mug, portrait/stage light. #computationalphotography
Ben Macintyre’s “The Spy and the Traitor: The Greatest Espionage Story of the Cold War” (2018). True story. Read to learn about the KGB. For example…once KGB, always KGB…also: the KGB has been practicing effective “fake news” for generations. Are you thinking about the mental habits of VPutin? I am. [He joined the KGB in 1975, mind you.]
Fringe tree, also portrait/stage light (iPhone 11 Pro).
Social distancing; life/love in the time of pandemic. Ancillary topic: soap is not detergent. Context: people keep saying wash your hands frequently with soap and water. Common phrase. HOWEVER, if the cleaner you are using is liquid, you may be using a detergent. [First-world whine, I know. Do not get me started on podium/lectern.]
Magdalenian lifeways in the Paris Basin. [You KNEW archaeology would be in this list somehow, didn’t you?]
Darning mushroom. I inherited one from Mom, but I think it’s up north, although I could use it now.
* Topic shelved for another day: fat-burning happens on exhale.
I’ve been a bit antsy for several days to get out of town, that is: OTP—outside the perimeter. No rain today, so we scooted. And headed to Russell Cave, owned by these United States, up in far northeast Alabama. This is the view from the cave, used by way-back peoples. Today it was a bit damp, and the creek below had water, but was not in flood.
We took what I thought was a short nature trail; I had it wrong. We went up and up, switchback after switchback. I kept thinking, “I’m glad it’s not wetter; this moss must get slippery!”
With the leaves off, we had some views of Doran’s Cove, the valley below.
And, as we left the cove, we saw a flock of wild turkeys. They were jumpy and headed for the woods when we stopped…only a few stragglers left. Pretty birds, these gals.
Physiographically, this area is Ridge-and-Valley. Here we are heading up the west flank of Lookout Mountain, working our way back toward the ATL. Sun’s out!
The Guru mentioned how great the light angle was, so we headed over to that big mound site just outside Cartersville on the bank of the Etowah (clue there!). The Guru was right; the light was fantastic, and there was some wind, but Droney got the shots. And video (not posted). That line of trees between the plowed field and the grass around the mounds is in a massive ditch—defensive, plus where the fill to build the mounds came from, no?
The former Masquerade club opened in the former DuPre Excelsior Mill (opened 1911) decades ago, and stayed groovy there for 27 years before mixed-use gremlins got the property. That transition has been underway for a while. The other day that rehab project…uhm, fell apart. haha Ooopsy.
Here’s part of a mural on the wall under the bridge between the old Masquerade and the new Kroger.
And this is a reflection on a glass wall bordering a terrace above the Kroger. Not sure why the plastic grass.
From the other end of the terrace, we could see through the legs supporting perhaps six stories of—not sure…office space? apartments? to…Ponce and beyond.
As we returned to the house, I heard sandhills above. Yay! Probably followed a different flyway than those we saw in Texas and New Mexico.
Unseasonably warm today, and I found bees busy on the neighbor’s rosemary. None of the Wise Dudes carried rosemary…too plebeian?
Possible proof that the critters in the manger (probably actually a house) included a Levantine wiener dog?
Outdoor bow…strong backlight…robust color…okay, I went for the EZ snapshot. Especially liked the twist tie.
During today’s walk, I passed the NM Supreme Court building, with an entrance overlooking the Santa Fé River. I know it just looks like channelized run-off, but this river was a main water supply for pre-modern visitors.
I wound my way up Marcy Hill, and had this view back at the city. Fogged in. Fort Marcy is up here, just foundation ruins now, being worn down by foot traffic. A sign said it was the first fort built west of the Mississippi by the US military. It was not where the troops lived, but a place of secure refuge if needed. The star fort was built in 1846, and abandoned in 1868.
I checked out a little-traveled area, and found this trio. Notice how the young one is trailing the adults and not so alert. Checking social media, perhaps.
Homeward bound, I checked out the rear of the capital building. Looks like children engaged in tug-a-war. Metaphor for activities in the building?
At some point I followed the Old Santa Fé Trail, and found this marker.
And a faux stable. No flies, I’m guessing.
Proof that we’re southbound. Also, proof that it was sunny early on.
We drove into rain, and never out. Some stretches had incipient rain, but the perception was that rain would restart any moment.
We made the NC transportation museum our big stop. It’s centered on a roundhouse, but I even saw a dugout canoe and motorcycles. My digital dictionary indicates cow-catcher is hyphenated; coulda fooled me.
Wagon hub. Looks like a fancy locking pin.
Have no idea why forty men and eight horses.
Dusty, chrome-laden car.
Aha! Stone Mountain.
Aha! Atlanta traffique.
Urban travel today is likely to involve routes underground, whether you are in a vehicle or afoot. A tunnel in the central civic-ceremonial zone of WashDC.
Ronald Reagan building parking/security team joke.
A rose to you for getting through the traffic.
How many US citizens under the age of, what?, 40? know what this is…that it’s not just an aesthetic combo of shapes and colors. Often, in my (limited) experience, the eraser would solidify and the bristles would get bent before the eraser was used up.
Our first stop: the Verrocchio exhibit at the National Gallery of Art. Verrocchio has many names in the literature (WikiPee indicates his birth name was Andrea di Michele di Francesco de’ Cioni), but most cognoscenti refer to him as merely Verrocchio, referring to the goldsmith he trained under, poor guy. He was an accomplished goldsmith, architect, painter, and sculptor. One of his mentees was Leonardo da Vinci.
Verrocchio’s Alexander the Great. Is that a dragon on your head, sir?
Love the sandal strap details. Many art historians think Leonardo painted the ghostly terrier.
This is Goliath’s head with David’s foot in Verrocchio’s version of the same moment as the famous Donatello statue of David. We saw the latter in Florence; I like both. Again: footwear detail.
We got lunch in a downstairs museum café, and headed to the mall. Left: view of Capitol Hill. We went that way last time. We went the opposite way this time.
Toward the Washington monument, all sparkly clean and open for business again.
And from the hill at its base, we could see our quarry, the Lincoln Monument. But first, at this end of the Reflecting Pool, the WWII Memorial.
Sobering to see over 4000 stars here, each representing 100 American war dead.
We climbed out, paralleled the pool, and worked our way through the crowds up the steps and into the main room of the Lincoln Monument, which the Romans would have called a cella. Many old guys in wheelchairs…this weekend’s groups of Honor Flight members and their attendees. One group whose members we kept encountering were from “Flag City,” Ohio.
We tore ourselves away from the Abe and visited the Vietnam Maya Lin wall. Sobering also. It’s all about the names, each life lost.
Enough malling, we headed back to our parking garage. [Ended up with 16K steps for the day. Outdoor mall-walking.]
The “island” out there is a sunken ship. There are over 230 of them in shallow Mallows Bay, on the Maryland side of the Potomac, a bit downstream and opposite Quantico. Look at GooSatView and see how many you can count. Many are steam ships and many date from WWI.
We paid $6(!!) to cross this bridge over the Rappahannock, the next big river south of the Potomac, both flowing into Chesapeake Bay. The beams are pretty, and the light was nice, but I prefer the bridge that spans the two peninsulas way NNW of here, plus the crossing is cheaper.
Taftsville Covered Bridge, with autumn complement of leaf-peepers….
When no longer farming, used a large quaint barn, barnyard as event space.
Fall color mosaic varies. We are westbound here—nice light.
Main gate, Vermont state fair, with ginger breading.
Armory with asymmetric towers.
Ticonderoga’s mill dam. There were at least two mills on the river, both long gone.
Lucille Ball was the backer of the original Star Trek; her money, exclusively as I understand it, got the pilot made, then a second pilot made with new actors, and on the air. She and Desi were divorced by then, but the studio name stayed, and she ran it.
Modern transporter footwear.
Magic hallway—Drew, our guide, said that was the filming term. The arc was long enough that actors could walk/run-and-talk for a bit before reaching the end.
Bridge of the Enterprise.
Traditional double bridge.
Modern highway bridge.
Apologies for late/”10:22pm” post; we had a l-o-n-g drive yesterday and I was pooped/too busy navigating.
Reading about ancient plant fiber technology…what solution was used to make fiber “longer.” Do you splice or use a kind of spinning to hold the new piece in place (if I have it right)? A recent study shows that across a big swath of the eastern Mediterranean, for generations most fiber workers (probably women) used splicing earlier and longer than previously believed. What’s most interesting to me is that this was widely used for a very long time…and across a wide area…without change. Why? Why do it the same way your grandmother and here grandmother did? Why no innovation? This duration issue arises in other places with other materials, techniques, and technologies. We generally think of humans as innovators, but archaeology shows repeated examples of continuity for dozens of generations and across huge areas, even when populations are low. Love mysteries like this!
We spotted this in a fishing boat, not sure what it is. Long line? Hooks…lines…carpet fragment.
This heiau (sacred place) is in a busy park at a good surfing spot. Many signs remind non-believers that this is a sacred place, to avoid—no cars, scooters or entrance. But, oh what a scenic place! I couldn’t tell if there was a adjacent village anciently; it could have been by itself overlooking the ocean.