Life in the Time of Virus - Changes

Office in a Small City, 1953

The world is frozen. The world is always in motion.

Month Seven has passed and change is in the offing. Still working from home, but I have changed positions. Crucible has been “sunset” (cancelled) and now I am working on a new project for Amazon, of which I cannot speak.

However, this has resulted in several changes. For the past 6 months I have been camped out in the basement library with two laptops and my personal monitor. My desk has been an old oak table purchased from Milt’s Woodshed in Walworth (Milt’s a character, yaknow), and my chair has been a straight-backed dining room chair. The table is littered with piles of games and vinyl record albums, and my monitor has been perched on a couple boxes of the Dominion game. And that’s OK, because I thought this was a temporary measure and we would be back in the office soon.

But there may no longer be an office for a cancelled project, and when my new team heard about the strength of my computers, the feeling was that I needed some real firepower. So I have a new desk chair, desk, laptop and tower, along with sundry additional things. I took down the drafting table I had in the corner of my personal office (I try to keep church and state separate as much as possible), and installed myself there, which will be warmer during the coming winter months. But it has been a weird feeling, sort of a permanent shift for me.

Oh. Also, got a haircut, finally.

We have recovered from the smoky days of previous month, and slipped effortlessly into fall, which in Seattle terms means rain, windstorms, and the occasional clap of thunder. The birds disappeared during the worst of the smoke, but seem to have returned, though I don’t know if they are the originals or migratory versions that are passing through. In any event, the hummingbirds are now at the feeder, and chickadees battle over the fountain.

The outer world continues. The Lovely Bride is wrapping up tax extensions from last year, already extended by the government once. Spot shortages continue – the latest is caffeine-free diet soda and shower cleaner. Also rubbing alcohol, which people are turning into hand sanitizer and shower cleaner. The Lovely B has gone to vodka for her mix. Which is OK, since I haven’t picked up any ginger beer lately.

I actually got sick the other week. It was probably a reaction to a shingles vaccine (I had gotten a flu shot at the same time - why not go for two?), and it left me achy and congested for a few days. The Lovely Bride had some back spasms and is now doing physical therapy. But I have been stunned to discover that there is more out there than just the virus. But at the same time, this has been the longest time without some cold, flu, or other physical illness. 

Not so for everyone in the outside. And we humans like stories, and stories of hubris are particularly appealing. The guy who swears there in no monster getting eaten by the monster - that's a story that resonates. And those who oppose masks, social distancing, and other measures while trying to live a life from before the coronovirus, who then come down with it in droves is that sort of story. And you know, despite the nature of such stories, I feel empathy for these folk, even though they will likely survive it (through the very actions they despised before) but learn nothing from the experience. Perhaps.

And so we row on.It is grey and cool and fall is starting roll in. But at least the birds are back.

More later. 

The Woodpecker Papers

It has been almost a month since the woodpecker started attacking the power pole across the street, and I thought I'd update the damages.

The culprit, a pileated variety of feathered malefactor, has tunneled four holes into the pole so far, none of them more than six feet off the ground. They are:

- 3" long by 2" wide by 1" deep
- 4" long by 3" wide by 3" deep
- 15" long by 3" wide by 4" deep
And a record scar of 26" long by 4" by 9" deep at the deepest.

The two largest cuts are across from each other, so our feathered saboteur is definitely working towards a goal. So far, I doubt the pole is coming down, but its not in the shape it was a month ago.

There is currently a small red ribbon tied around the pole, but I believe this to be the result of a local surveying crew as opposed to an intention to replace it. As the development wave sweeps through, they are planning to extend the sewer line down the street (which they just repaved and expanded a couple years back - go figure).

More later,

Woody

So yesterday I was snowed in, and took some pictures of the surrounding snow. One of the pictures in particular was interesting in that it was a pileated woodpecker, a truly beautiful bird, perched across the street on a power pole. Here's the shot, from the safety of my own home.
And about two hours later a neighbor knocked on our door. He's renting the place behind one of our neighbors, and was concerned about the power pole falling over. It seems our woodpecker bored a hole eight inches deep, fifteen inches long, and four inches across.Now, on one hand I know as a former civil engineer that even a hole this size is unlikely to cause a collapse. On the other hand, its been 25 years since I've been an engineer, and we DO get high winds up here, so a big gouge in a power pole is not a good thing. So I called into Puget Sound Energy and reported it. I apologized to the nice woman that I realized that there were real power outages but I would feel particularly foolish if I let it go and then the thing collapsed, kicking off a real power outage. She laughed and said she was never surprised by those mother nature animals, and in the end we put it in the miscellaneous category for investigation.

And the bird? He's back this morning, working on the OTHER side of the pole. Obviously he's some kind of saboteur.

More later,

Wild, Wild, Life

So for the past few Saturdays, when the Lovely Bride has been going into town for her Tai Chi classes, I've been taking hikes down along the old Black River to see the heronry there. I've talked about these dinosaur birds before, and I wanted to check on them before the cottonwood trees came in too thick.

They're still there, and I counted about fifty nests, though some of these may be abandoned from previous years. The colony itself was less raucous than I've seen in other years, but that may just be the time of the day. There is a lot of nesting and still some nestbuilding. The eagles are back as well, across the way, near the still-empty office buildings they put in a few years ago. But the remains of the Black River were dominated with geese, ducks, and other waterfowl.

There are herons up at my workplace as well, as we border on the Mercer Slough, and some of them may be making a similar commute to my own from the south during the day. We also had a mink show up at the office's front door last week. Definitely smaller than an otter (we have those too), and with finer, less shiny fur, the small creature nosed about the front door before the mass of people watching spooked it and it loped off.

If it had hung around another five minutes we would have given it a programming test and see if it could work in an office environment.

More later,

Wild, Wild Life

So, a bunch of animal stories:

- Last night I was working in the lower floor and heard what sounded like a large mouse thundering through the space above my head, between the floors. Due to the way the house is constructed (a tri-level with an additional fourth level added), sometimes wild things get into that space. I resigned myself to searching for obvious entrances and mayhaps investing in a trap.

- However, when I got up this morning, there was a dead mouse at the doorway to my office, presented by Harley and Vicky, who probably pummeled it to death (lacking front claws). The Iron Cats get full marks for presentation and plating, though I refused to judge them on taste.

- Yesterday went down to the Des Moines beach for very low tides, which meant a beach walk with the Sierra Club. Many of the usual suspects were unearthed (rock crabs and dungeoness, moon snails, sea stars and sea cucumbers), but saw some chitens and nudibranchs as well. Also a visit to the new fish ladder up the stream.

- In addition, I got back to the Black River a few weeks back to check on the herons, first mentioned in the journal way back here.
It was after the peak of the season, and the trees were starting to come it, but while there are still nests present, the colony is not as large as it was previous years. This may be due to the bone-headed development Renton allowed to be installed right next door, or it may be due to a pair of bald eagles setting up shop at the far end of the lake. That's the problem with nature - never gives you the easy answer.

- And speaking of eagles, we have one up on Panther Lake as well now. Neighbor across the street has a nest in his fir trees. On one hand I'm pleased to see the noble birds make a comeback from the 70s, when there was a risk of losing them entirely in the lower 48. On the other hand, they are getting to be almost a bit TOO common up here. Look for news reports on missing pets in the near future.

- And you've heard about the bee hive crash, likely - honeybees leaving home and not coming back, with potentially dire consequences. The thing that actually worries me is a sudden lack of ducklings and goslings at my place of work. Last year this time we were hip-deep in them, such that warning signs were posted at the buildings. This year, a definite reduction in population. I guess we could blame this on bald eagles as well, but it seems a little .... sinister.

More later,

UPDATE: Add to the other stories the sudden appearance of a barred owl outside our office. Like right outside, perched in one of the fir trees, eating a baby bunny. Barred owls are mostly nocturnal but can be found active during the day, particularly if they are feeding fledgelings.