Counting Birds

I thought I'd already started this list here but apparently not. I've decided to see if I can spot 100 different birds this year. My fellow naturalist Paul Smithson is currently ahead in the standings.

Here is my bird list thus far. I spotted the barred owl and barn swallow today so I am now at 67.

Black throated sparrow
Great tailed grackle
Killdeer
Great egret
Great blue heron
Mallard duck
Violet green sparrow
Mourning dove
White crowned sparrow
Gambel's quail

Verdin
Great horned owl
Cactus wren
Curve billed thrasher
Cliff swallow
White breasted nuthatch
Ruby crowned kinglet
Western Bluebird
Yellow rumped warbler (Audubons)
Anna's hummingbird

Common Goldeneye
Common loon
Wood duck
Wild Turkey
Red bellied woodpecker
Downy woodpecker
Hairy woodpecker
Brown creeper
Northern cardinal
American robin

Blue jay
American goldfinch
Dark eyed junco (slate colored)
Pileated woodpecker
Black capped chickadee
Purple finch
Red shouldered hawk
Bald eagle
Hermit thrush
American crow

Eastern Phoebe
Cedar waxwing
European starling
Bufflehead
Ring necked duck
Canada goose
House sparrow
Fox sparrow
Turkey vulture
Hooded merganser

Ring necked pheasant
Brown headed cowbird
Tree swallow
Yellow bellied sapsucker
American coot
Osprey
Red tailed hawk
Eastern bluebird
American woodcock
Eastern Towhee

White throated sparrow
Tufted titmouse
Red breasted nuthatch
Yellow rumped warbler (Myrtle)
Chipping sparrow
Barred owl
Barn swallow

What will be next? If I had to guess I'd say I'm due to see a sandhill crane, an oriole, an ovenbird and if I actually stepped outside and looked I could hunt down a grackle, song sparrow and field sparrow. Weirdly I also haven't seen a house wren. I guess I just need to look. I've heard a bunch of other birds but those don't count.

~Kirk

Recovery

I'm about 90% recovered from my hard drive crash. I now have most of my data back but it will be a week or so before I get the actual computer back with a new hard drive. I am so thankful that I have my writing as well as my cartoon drawings. I am working on an online flash cartoon in the evenings and many hours go into making each character, set, vehicle, sound, etc. Here's a gem I'm thankful to have saved.
~Kirk

Feminine side

While eating lunch the other day I noticed the title of the feature article in the Utne Reader. It was : "Embrace Your Feminine (You too, guys)"

The title immediately sent up my hackles as it reminded me of a moment back in high school.

It was the end of my junior year as I stepped into the gymnasium to pick up my yearbook. In the past, our yearbooks had just been delivered to our classroom but this year was different. People enjoyed this new distribution method as it was a great opportunity to see a lot of people and get them to sign your book. At one point I ran into my friend Steve. Steve was a senior and a guy I looked up to. We hadn't really had a huge amount of time to spend together that year but we'd done some cool things and had some great conversations. It was too bad that he was a senior and I was a junior because he was going off to college and inevitably we'd not be able to have those great conversations and share ideas on music, the universe and everything. While this wasn't the last day of school it was very close and signing a person's yearbook brings a kind of closure. We talked for a little while and then said, "see you around," knowing that wouldn't be the case. We gave each other a hug, which was not unusual for my group of friends and that's where the story really begins. One of our female friends who was standing around saw us hug each other goodbye and said something to the effect of, "It's so great to see men comfortable expressing their feminine side."

We were both taken aback by this statement and it turns out we were both thinking the same thing. You see, women want sensitive men. They want us to express ourselves. They want us to be in touch with our feelings and emotions, as well as the feelings and emotions of others. This is not something I work on. My Meyers-Briggs profile is INFP. I am Intorvert, iNtuitive, Feeling, Perciever. (Thank Dog I wasn't raised Catholic or I'd be full of self hatred.) It is in my nature to exhibit characteristics some are so quick to label, "feminine."

Herein lies the problem. To label actions feminine and masculine is to assign them to a specific gender. These are the things men do and these are the things women do. Women want men to show their emotions but when they do, the women then label those actions "feminine" i.e. something that is contrary to the very nature of what a man is.

Is it any wonder men don't want to show emotions when women label men as feminine for doing so?

You can't have your cake and eat it too women. If you want men to show that they are in touch with their feelings and if you want them to express their emotions then you need to give up on the monopoly and stop calling these things feminine.

Imagine this, a woman friend applies for a job as a corporate CEO (traditionally a male role) and I say to her, "Hey, it's good to see you showing your masculine side." I would guess I would no longer be able to count her as a friend. The statement is totally offensive.

Is it really any different when women comment on men "showing their feminine side?"

Lenticular

Last night Chelsey and I had a discussion about the definition of some words. She claimed she had seen authors using "sorites" to mean party. The correct term would be soirees. This all came up because we couldn't remember the name of an episode of Firefly. I remembered the next day that is was Shindig. Oh well. I looked up sorites as she spelled it and was confused even more because I was confusing sorites with sorties. Ah language.

I continued to flip though the dictionary amusing myself when I came upon the word lentil. Of course a lentil is a small pea like seed we eat. Close by in the dictionary, I spotted the word lenticular. Of course, lenticular, which I always associate with lenses actually means "shaped like a lentil". The word lens comes from the word lenticular. So, the lenses in my glasses and telescope eyepieces are actually named lenses because they resemble a lentil.

Weird. I never knew.

~Kirk

Timberdoodle Twirl

(Note: This appeared as my April "Au Naturel" column in Stillwater Living Magazine)

I remember being nervous in high school as I waited to be asked to the Valentine's day "sweetheart" dance. Not being asked was my girlfriends subtle way of setting me free. I spent the evening with a friend driving to Darwin, Minnesota to see the biggest ball of twine in the world. I've perhaps been skeptical of dances ever since.

Now, later in life and as a professional naturalist, I think about one dance in particular as I prematurely take off layers of wool and don shorts on fifty degree days. The signs of spring tell me it is time for the Timberdoodle Twirl.

The Twirl, a.k.a. the Sky Dance, is a secretive event that only occurs in the spring. Naturalists have attended the twirl for centuries and yet it remains a little known event to most outsiders.

You will not be invited to the Twirl. There are no invitations and no awkward propositions. You don't need to trek to the giant twine ball when you're not invited to the dance.

If you want to attend the Timberdoodle Twirl you need to first figure out where it is held. If you are lucky enough to know someone who has been to one in the past then you have an easy in. The only other option is to hunt down the location on your own.

Although locations do change, the Twirl often takes place in the same spot for generations. Timberdoodle Twirls are usually situated on the edge of meadows. There must be enough room to twirl. There must also be a woods nearby with young trees such as aspen and alders. A stand of sumac may work in a pinch. It all depends how picky the dancers are.

The Timberdoodle Twirl is an elaborate dance that can only be performed by the highly experienced and rules dictate that it can only be performed in the dying rays of twilight. A full moon rising in the east makes it all the better. Dim lighting sets the mood. The Twirl is about one thing; bonding with hopes of mating.

If you think you're up to participation in the Twirl keep in mind that none of the naturalists are. There are two requirements. To perform in the Timberdoodle Twirl you must first off be a male. This precludes half the population but you must also be able to flap your arms hard enough to fly. This tends to rule out the rest of us.

To actually take part in the Timberdoodle Twirl, you must be a timberdoodle. The males of this strange slightly spherical species perform an elaborate mating dance we naturalists call the Timberdoodle Twirl or the Sky Dance. The timberdoodle, also known as the American woodcock, is a secretive bird that spends most of its time in the woods probing the ground with a ridiculously long beak. Technically, the woodcock is a shorebird but with the beaches being such historically crowded places who can blame it for preferring the solitude of the woods?

In the woods, the sensitive beak searches the earth for worms and insects. With eyes on the sides of its head it can see both in front of and behind itself at the same time. It can also see above itself, which is useful for keeping an eye on both predators and dancers.

Any evening, April through May, you may have luck discovering the secret dance of the timberdoodle. As the sun sets, listen for the buzzy "peent" call of the male bird. It shouts to the females, "Look at me, I am about to dance." This is personally a declaration I have never shouted on a dance floor so I admire the bird's self esteem.

After a few minutes of peenting, the male soars two hundred feet or more into the sky. The spiraling skyward travel is accompanied by a twittering sound produced not from the throat of the bird but by air rushing over the wings. If you approach from the east you can see the bird silhouetted against the dying rays of the day.

The bird then sings a dreamlike courtship song in a liquidly warble while beginning a leaf-like fluttering descent to the earth. It goes silent a few feet from the ground and alights gently on the dance floor.

Upon landing, he immediately starts up with the peents again, trying to call in a female to watch his elaborate dance.

The springtime ritual of the Timberdoodle Twirl probably occurs near your home. Visitors to Lake Elmo park have seen it and Warner Nature Center offers a guided Timberdoodle Twirl program each spring.

When you discover the secret location of the Timberdoodle Twirl, hold that information dear. You are witness to a marvel seen by few. Remember though, unless you can fly, you'll be asked to sit this dance out.

Would you fly with these men?

I blame the bizarre music on the headphones for these photos taken over the grand canyon.

Frogs

Just a quick note here. Eariler this week I heard the first frogs of the year. The western chorus frogs started first at the east end of the bog. Yesterday as I left work the wood frogs were finally singing as well. What a change in just a few days! The "peeper pond" as we call it was full of life yesterday when it was frozen just a few days ago. Julie, who left work about an hour and a half after me claims she heard spring peepers as well.

~Kirk

Recovering from Winter's Crash

(FYI: A version of this appeared in The St. Croix Valley Press. They edited the last paragraph so it no longer made sense. Ah the joy of being edited.)

This week, an abundance of new sounds appeared at Warner Nature Center. We’ve begun to hear the calls of new spring arrivals such as cardinals, robins, red-winged black birds, Canada geese and sand-hill cranes. We’ve also heard winter residents such as the black-capped chickadee and the American goldfinch as they begin their spring songs.

A new song joined the spring chorus yesterday. It was most unexpected and unwelcome. Though it resembled the sharp loud cherr of an agitated squirrel, it was actually the sound of my computer’s hard drive self-destructing. All of the data stored on it was lost in an instant. I am trying really hard to not feel completely sick about this. I lost a lot of my writing including an entire year's worth of articles I wrote for 2006-2007 issues of The Interpreter.

Winter is the great hard drive crash of the world. In the cold dim light of winter, everything either slows down or stops completely. As a naturalist, I am amazed by the diversity in nature. This annual sub zero crash is handled in many different ways. Some birds and mammals decide to tough out winter by staying active. If food runs out, this choice can be deadly.

Other animals, most notably birds, migrate south in search of food as winter approaches. This seems a sensible approach but migration for birds isn’t as simple as hopping a jumbo jet to warmer climes. The migration survival rate varies but it can be a low as 30 percent. Flying south is nature’s way of backing up bird data. When the crash of winter comes, the data in the form of the species genetic diversity, has flown south. With failure rates as high as 70 percent I don’t think flying my hard drive south is a good option in the future.

Another back-up in nature is to protect oneself through hibernation. We think of hibernation as a great way to sleep off winter but hibernation is risky as well. A high percentage of small mammals that go into hibernation never make it back out. They perish underground; silent victims of nature.

If staying, migration and hibernation as so dangerous, how can they be considered a successful way for nature to back itself up for winter’s crash? The answer is abundance. Nature provides for the sheer abundance of individuals within a species so that when faced with mortal challenges such as winter, enough will survive to carry on.

Spring is the season of abundance. It is so clear and welcoming to my winter eyes. That abundance is both the key to and the result of nature’s ability to back itself up. I too made a back up a short while before my computer crashed. I copied my most important files onto a disk. It won't be a perfect back up but it is better than nothing. I may have to load those old files onto a new computer, the songs out my window tell me our Minnesota landscape is being reborn as well.

Spring

I'm crazy swamped this time of year but I thought I should mention some phenology here. I spotted about 50 robins a couple of weeks ago and then in the last few days I have seen geese, American kestrels and red wing black birds. On Saturday the birds were singing spring like crazy. I heard cardinals at my house in the morning and then out at Warner the chickadees and cardinals were going nuts! I heard the chickadees singing "hon-ey, hon-ey" a few times this winter but on Saturday they were screeming "HON-EY, HON-EY!" They were really psyched about the weather. We all were! I also caught a glimpse of the beaver down at the lake.

~Kirk

Winter Wonderland?

From my tree top office in the woods I can look out over the woods of Warner Nature Center and survey the sights. This past winter I watched toddlers scurry across the snowy back yard and approach the woods. A barrier stood in their way. An enormous wall of snow blocked their passage. They bravely climbed up to the top, and then slid down the other side.

I remember mountains of snow when I was a kid too. I remember snow forts and a magical winter wonderland called Minnesota. As an adult, and as a naturalist who teaches snowshoeing, I lament the lack of snow these days. Is there really a lack of snow though? To the toddlers, the three foot high snow bank left by our site manager's snowplow is enormous. It stands higher than their heads!

Last night I heard on the news that a nor'easter hit the eastern seaboard. It was so large it had an eye like a hurricane. It dropped upwards of three feet of snow. In the new winter storm scale it was a category three of a possible five. This is not Minnesota. We like to think of ourselves as a snowy winter wonderland but are we really just a cold winter wonderland?

I searched the records to be sure. I am a child of the 80s so I looked at the annual snowfall from 1981-1986. The totals were as follows:

81-82 95.0 inches
82-83 74.4 inches
83-84 98.4 inches
84-85 72.7 inches
85-86 69.5 inches

The same data for the past five years reads as follows

00-01- 75.8 inches
01-02 66 inches
02-03 35 inches
03-04 66.3 inches
04-05 25.5 inches

So, I'm not crazy and it wasn't just that I was a lot shorter back then. There was far more snow when I was a kid. The average for those five years at the beginning of the 80s was 82 inches. That's 6.83 feet per year. The average for the past five years has only been 53.72 inches or 4.47 feet per year.

Now, here's the bad news. If you total all the snow data for the past 122 years you find that the annual average snowfall is only 45.8 inches for the twin cities. That's right, three of the past five winters have been above average. The normal total snowfall is only 3.8 feet and keep in mind that that is snowfall, not how much snow actually sticks around.

Total Snowfall this winter as of today: 24 inches.

Shameless Self Promotion

While searching for friends on blogger I realized no one can find my blog because I only use my first name when I sign my posts.

So, to remedy that problem, I am Kirk Mona. Leave a comment or I will be forced to fustigate you in the head region.

On a seperate note,

Many thanks to my older brother Erik for teaching me words like fustigate.

~Kirk

Space Alive

In my last post I tried to show that space was alive with sound. When we look up at the night sky is seems static, sure it moves but we soon learn that that is largely due to the the motion of the Earth. I present for your enjoyment then two animated clips.


In this animated gif you can watch dust devils dance across the surface of mars. It blew my mind to see images of movement on another planet. Fantastic.

Another view of changing space is this time laspsed clip of star cluster M3. This was compiled over the course of one night. You can really see how the stars change in brightness.

~Kirk

The Sound of Silence

While I enjoy a little silence now and then, like when I stand still in a snow covered field on a winter's night, I also enjoy the sound of snowshoes as they crunch crunch crunch their way around a frozen field.

I enjoy the silence as I stare through the eyepiece of a telescope and I enjoy the noise of barred owls calling and coyotes howling as I peer at the stars.

While I enjoy the soundtrack, silence can be thought of as the true sound of space. In the vacuum of space, sound waves cannot travel so silence rules the day.

That's why I was happy when the firefly class ship Serenity silently glided past Reaver ships in the movie Serenity. I'm a science geek at heart and I like my space scenes quiet.

All is not lost though for those who like sounds. We live in a universe of vibrations. More and more, little bits of information come across my desk that have to do with sounds in space. One of the reasons space can seem so cold and boring is that much of it is cold and boring. Sounds excite us.

So, in an effort to make space a little more exciting here are some sounds from space. This is a new field so the offerings are a little meager but keep in mind the first recordings on earth weren't real exciting either.

The first sounds from space I ever heard were pulsars. A pattern will become clear soon that all of these sounds are a bit of a tease. You can't really "hear" a pulsar. These are radio waves emitted by spinning stars. A computer turns them into sound for us. I heard sounds like these on TV shows about space as a child and thousands of people heard them in the movie Contact when Jody Foster's character thinks one might be an alien signal early on in the film. In fact, the one linked above sounds a bit like the one in the movie. She says it is J1741+2748 which isn't a real pulsar.

It was years until I heard another sound from space. It was the cassini spacecraft traveling through Saturn's rings. The accompanying animation gives some nice perspective. Millions of tiny particles hit the high gain antenna creating puffs of superheated plasma that the Radio and Plasma Wave Science instrument recorded.

The Cassini spacecraft collected these bizarre radio waves near Jupiter. They sounds like birds. This is an example of a chorus sound caused by radiation belt electrons in a planet's upper atmosphere.

Cassini also recorded the sound of auroras at Saturn.

Check out these weird radio emissions the Galileo spacecraft gathered from Jupiter's largest moon, Ganymede.

This Sound from the Dynamics Explorer Spacecraft that sounds a lot like a transmission from Reavers in the movie Serenity. (Keep in mind this is essentially a sound that the earth makes. Perhaps fitting.)

Here's the sound of the Voyageur 1 spacecraft hitting Jupiter's bowshock. I like the sound of this one. If you want an explaination look here. Keep in mind this is an audio representation of data. This one is cool though because the waves are technically in the audible range so this is closer to actual "sound."

Last two sounds. How about the Big Bang? Or did it sound like this? Technicaly this is the sound of the universe cooling just after the big bang.

The other day I stumbled upon the Planetary Society website and saw that they are attempting to send an actual audio recorder to mars. Now we're talking. Real sound! Unfortunately, they put the recorder on the polar lander which crashed. Now that would have been a sound to record!

Seasons Spinnig 'Round Again

I actually wrote this up last year but the beautiful thing about the Earth is that it keep on spinning. As Harry Chapin used to sing:

All my life's a circle;
Sunrise and sundown;
Moon rolls thru the nighttime;
Till the daybreak comes around.

All my life's a circle;
But I can't tell you why;
Season's spinning round again;
The years keep rollin' by.


Last year someone asked me an interesting question. "Does the amount of darkness at the solstice change from year to year at a given latitude?" As far as I can tell, it doesn't. At least not in a scientifically significant way.

What is interesting though is that I came upon an another phenomenon. In our hemisphere, we all know that on or around December 21st the winter solstice arrives and we have the smallest amount of daylight in the year. The sun appears to stand still thus, "sol-stice." On this date the sun ceases to creep around the horizon and begins moving the other way.

Most people assume this means this is the day of the latest sunrise and earliest sunset. Here's the catch though, the earliest sunset is not on the solstice and neither is the latest sunrise! The date of the earliest sunset is actually December 9th (at least at my latitude) while the date of the latest sunrise is something like January 5th. The solstice falls in between and it is neither the day with the latest sunrise nor the earliest sun set.

It is, however, the day with the least total amount of light and the most darkness. These "days of darkness" between earliest sunset and latest sunrise change based on latitude. Here in Minnesota that means that we officially entered the days of darkness Wednesday, December 8th at sunset. The were then 12 days of darkness until the solstice which was day 13.

So, the good news is that the sun is now setting later and later starting today giving us more evening light. (Though technically we're talking a matter of seconds here so don't expect any visible change!) The bad news is that the sun will keep on rising later, giving us more morning darkness, until around January 4th!

You can dissect the nuts and bolts of why this phenomenon by reading this article by the astronomical applications department of the US naval observatory.

~Kirk

I like Science

I like science. I always have. I dug Don Herbert a.k.a. Mr. Wizard. While my brother's childhood birthday gifts consisted of books on greek mythology I was always delighted to receive books such as, How things Work, Why Clocks Run Clockwise, and Mr. Wizard's Supermarket Science.

These two realms, mythology and science are both ontological and epistemological in nature. They seek to discover or reveal both the nature of existence and the nature of how we know what we know. Humans are fascinated with these questions.

Both science and religion/mythology seek to help us understand. Some people chose to have both science and religion in their lives, while other people, like me, find them incompatible. If people want to believe in something fundamentally unverifiable, they have every right to do so. This is what faith is all about.

What frightens me is that religion, specifically Christianity in America, is having a crisis of faith. The consequence of this crisis of faith is lashing out at science. When science brings forth good evidence that contradicts what a religion has taught, the religious should, in my humble opinion, take one of two courses of action.

1. They can adapt their beliefs to fit in with the new understanding. or
2. They can rely on faith and remain unchanged in their beliefs.

When it became clear that the Earth went around the Sun (not the other way around,) religious people realized that they needed to change their view. This really didn't hurt their core religious beliefs since there is no chapter in the Bible that says, "I am your Lord God, I made the Earth go around the Sun." In fact, the realization that the Earth goes around the Sun strengthened many people religious convictions since, as it didn't require epicycles it made more sense and is, in many ways more "perfect" than the Sun going around the Earth.

Option 2: Relying on Faith comes into play when we examine stories such as Jesus walking on water. This flies in the face of science but most Christians would simply say they believe the story as a matter of faith. Enough said. They don't need science to prove how he did it.

The problem is that there is an increasing number of religious people, and not just fundies and zealots anymore, who want a third option. When science challenges them they do not want to change their beliefs or simply rely on their faith, they want to change science. There have always been those who want this option but it is fundamentally incompatible with the concept of science in the first place. Just ask Giordano Bruno.

A strange email came my way though that gave me pause for several reasons. It referenced an article titled, "No NASA Millions for Irate Russian Astrologer."

Astrology, that kookie cousin to the real science Astronomy is a religion. Here is a case of a religion trying to stop science because of a conflict in belief. The astrologer claimed that NASA's Deep Impact mission, crashing a probe into a comet, was upsetting the balance of the universe. Okay, okay so it's probably just a case of a scam artist trying to make money but follow me here.

I find this reprehensible. The idea that a faith based belief system could even try to hold sway over science makes my skin crawl. Then again, science does not occur in a vacuum. Yes, it does in space but let's regress. Science is done by humans for the benefit of humans. As such, the values of humans must come into play. Science can allow us to do many things that we as humans find undesirable. I have argued against the destruction of the environment or the use of bioengeneering but are those just personal values getting in the way of the progress of science?

No.

Values can be informed in two ways. One is belief and the other is science.

It is easy for people to assume that the environmental movement is based on the belief that things are better a certain way but this is not the case. Environmental education and environmental action are based on science.

I can, and should, use beliefs informed by science to question both the assumed knowledge of science and the practical application thereof. Religion, strictly speaking a belief system, will always be of use to question the application of science in a society dominated by people with religious beliefs. However, religion should not be used to challenge the basis of science.

The Russian astrologer is challenging the application of science not the basis of science and for that I'm relieved.

She's still a nut.

The funny thing is, there are Christians who look at her and think she's crazy for believing things we can can see and measure affect our lives but they think nothing of citing the will of an invisible god when some madman enters a church and kills people.

I'll end this huge post with a quote from Stephen F. Roberts.

"I contend we are both Atheists - I just believe in one fewer god than you do. When you understand why you reject all other gods, you will understand why I reject yours."

~Kirk

Great Ball of Fire

I fell in to a burning ball of fire . . .

Check out this video of a huge fireball over Western Australia. Sorry it is a .ram file. You'll need the Real Player to view it.

~Kirk

Jack's Promiscuous Sister

Jack Frost has a promiscuous sister. Hoar Frost. Okay, terrible joke but that time of year has arrived. Hoar frost appeared overnight and it was beautiful. It wasn't a total cover but pretty good. At work it was only the tree tops so no pretty pictures to post. Hoar means hairy, thus we end up with plants called Hoary Puccoon. Hoar frost is a hairy like covering that appears on trees, grasses, fences, and phone lines overnight. Think of it as the winter version of dew. Okay, I admit, the winter version of dew is rime ice but gimme a break.

Supersaturated air, i.e. more than 100% saturated with water, sublimates directly onto cold surfaces making beautiful crystaline structures. Later in the day the wind can blow hoar frost off the trees and make it look like it is snowing. The "snowflakes" in the photo above are actually "hoarflakes" I caught as they fell from the tops of the trees. The featherlike structure was amazing. The photo really doesn't do it justice since the camera is terrible at macro shots.

~Kirk

Remembering Autumn

I took this photo at work back in October. How I miss those fall colors. Winter grips the land and I either need to stop complaining or gear up and get out into it to enjoy the marvels of winter. Autumn is my favorite though.

~Kirk

And Starts

Ok so now the snow has returned just a few days later. We will didn't get nailed though. Maybe three inches at the most. Very pretty but not enough to snowshoe. I hope it isn't another of those pathetic winters.

~kirk

Fits and starts

On Saturday morning snow fell on the ground and kept falling. I'd say we had three inches and it looked like it was going to stick until a warm front blew through on Sunday. By sundown on Sunday every flake melted and the lawn looked lush and green.

Happy birthday to me.