in the land of the silver birch

One forgets how easy it is to access a memory sometimes. I was bopping along to some tune the other day and had a distinct memory of a classmate “Sunshine” Savage (her actual name, I wonder what happened to her) singing with me “Dip, dip and swing them back, flashing with SILVER” quite archly (in Dorian mode it turns out no less, I –♭VI, like Eleanor Rigby) and became curious all of a sudden about what public domain songbook that that was drawn from. I discovered to my delight that it’s considered a traditional Canadian folk staple:

My paddle’s keen and bright
Flashing with silver
Follow the wild goose flight
Dip, dip and swing

Though somewhat disavowed as kind of racist in Canadian school districts of late, apparently it is still a standard part of an American elementary school Thanksgiving pageant. I never experienced that personally but do recall other audience favourites, like the prodigal Señor Don Gato. Meow, meow, meow.

intercalary days

As the calendar winds down and makes ready to welcome a new year, we pause to take a look at a few non-standard dates, evoked for neat calculation and exceptional circumstances. 0 January is the manner for referencing the coordinates of astral bodies—used in tables for stellar navigation and astrology—the day before the start of a calendar year while still keeping the annual ephemeris inclusive.
Furthermore, for practical purposes, the epoch of computing and programming only reaches back to 1900—and though they had intended the starting point of 0 January to be New Year’s Eve 1899, because the year 1900 was erroneous reckoned as a Leap Year (it is a Common Year under the Gregorian Calendar but a Leap Year under the Julian system, in use in some jurisdictions until 1923) 0 January 1900 is actually the penultimate 30 December 1899. While most of Western Europe transitioned from the Julian to Gregorian calendars by excising a week of Sundays—not at all in a coordinated effort either—the Swedish Empire, seeing hardship elsewhere, announced it would gradually catch up, by phasing out leaps days over the following four decades—from 1700 to 1740. Conflict and conquest, however, made keeping an accurate count of cheat days difficult and at one point—in 1712—Sweden observed 30 February. Ultimately, in 1753, and despite the earnest efforts of civil servants calendar synchronisation was complete, by fast-forwarding from 17 February to 1 March.

kansas is apt to see in new york a greedy city… it inclines to think that the big apple gets a disproportionate share of the national sap

In a bid to secure the affections of an internet retail giant who turned out to be more polyamorous than expected, New York City, in its proposal to the company, modified its letterhead to spell out the sweetheart deal with a special version of the city’s iconic logo—created for the board of tourism by Milton Glaser (previously) in 1977. The artist was not impressed with the adaptation, befuddled as we are by what that’s even supposed to mean other than the commodification and selling-short of Gotham.

dinosaurier des jahres

Since 1993, Germany’s Naturschutzbund (NABU, Nature Conservancy Corps) in Berlin has been awarding its annual dirisive distinction, its Dinosaur Award, to the group or individual who’s actions are most emblematic of regressive tendencies in environmental stewardship.
This year’s prize went to the chairman of an energy company who pledged to continue the expansion of its strip-mining operations and destroy the remaining sliver of the old growth Hambacher Forst despite massive protests and the gradual phasing out of coal. Earlier in the month, a ceremony was held in the nearby Ruhrgebiet to mark the closing of the country’s last black hard coal mine, also operated by the same energy giant fossil.  There are regrettably too many of such barons (sometimes ourselves included for our lifestyle choices) to contend with but who might you nominate for failure to adapt?

sequoia

There is an ancient Chinese proverb that posits that while the best time to plant a tree is twenty years ago, the number two best time is today, and via the always excellent Kottke’s Quick Links, we learn about an ambitious consortium of conservators and arborists who have successfully cloned one hundred saplings of giant redwoods from the stumps of five of most majestic trees (previously thought dead) felled in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries.  The Archangel Ancient Tree Archive—inspired by a near-death experience, aims to re-establish the forests of the North American Pacific Northwest Coast as a bulwark against climate change—though these colossal trees are susceptible to environmental degradation, being extraordinarily long-lived, they could teach humans a thing or two about living on Earth in terms of weathering change and wildfires. The trees sequester as many tonnes of carbon in their trunks as two hundred and fifty regular trees and the cloned specimens are not only seeding the coastline but are also being exported to places around the world. More to explore and learn how to get involved at the links above.