Saturday
Friday
Hope and Remembrance – The Sakura Line 311
The 9.0 earthquake triggered a powerful tsunami that reached heights of up to 130 ft. (40.5 meters) and which traveled up to 6 miles inland (10km). Over 20,000 died in the devastation along the Pacific coastline of Japan’s northern islands.
This exquisite natural monument serves a dual purpose, both practical and symbolic. While creating a touching memorial to victims of the disaster, the planned 105 mile (170 km) row of pink blossoming cherry trees along the tsunami’s high water line will also stand as a potentially life-saving reference, showing residents how far to evacuate from the coast in the event of a future tsunami warning.
Thursday
Why we should support nuclear power
I don't expect many Ecologist readers to agree with this, so am grateful to the editor for the chance to put my case.
I'm one of the "self proclaimed pro-nuclear environmentalists" criticised in Jim Green's article: 'Can PRISM solve the UK's plutonium problem?'. I spent 20 years campaigning against nuclear, then decided I'd been wrong, and said so.
I'm not sure who else would have 'proclaimed' this if I hadn't. Or maybe Green means that we're only self proclaimed as 'environmentalists'. Well, I've worked on green issues for a quarter of a century, and led two green organisations, so I think I could call myself an environmentalist if I wanted to.
Wednesday
BBC climate reportage is confusing, not informing
The key phrase spoken in BBC Radio 4's Today programme on the findings of the latest IPCC climate change report was "it's about people now".
It's a statement likely to carry great weight with a body of listeners who have tended to conceive of climate change as a remote, distant issue, the effects of which they had never really imagined having to face.
The programme's discussion laid out the report's findings of threats to human health, homes, food and security, and those listening at home grabbing a slice of toast on their way out of the door would be in no doubt that "no one will be untouched".
Tuesday
Wheat
Wheat is any of a number of species of the genus Triticum within the grass family of Poaceae.
The wheat harvest in Palouse, Idaho, USA. Source: USDA
Wheat is an important grain food crop supplying the second highest caloric intake for humans, closely behind rice. Wheat is used to produce flour for bread, pasta, couscous and other foods.
However, wheat generally consumes large amounts of nitrate and other fertilizers, so that the outcome of widespread wheat farming is often associated with extensive water pollution impacts, expecially related to nitrate laden runoff.
Wheat is one of the most adaptable of crops, grown from the equator to near the Arctic, and from sea level to the Tibetan Plateau. Recent research demonstrates that production of the world wheat crop is likely to increase if atmospheric carbon dioxide levels rise.
Dry and Matured Wheat Seed (Source: Saikat Basu)
To feed the burgeoning worldwide human population explosion,
intensification of wheat farming has brought the by-product of
increased crop diseases; such practices as intensive irrigation, lack of
crop rotation and dependence on monocultures have promoted the
propagation of many fungal pathogenic infections that reduce the yields
of wheat and other cereal crops, and in some cases can lead to human
disease via mycotoxin production.
The wheat harvest in Palouse, Idaho, USA. Source: USDA
Wheat is an important grain food crop supplying the second highest caloric intake for humans, closely behind rice. Wheat is used to produce flour for bread, pasta, couscous and other foods.
However, wheat generally consumes large amounts of nitrate and other fertilizers, so that the outcome of widespread wheat farming is often associated with extensive water pollution impacts, expecially related to nitrate laden runoff.
Wheat is one of the most adaptable of crops, grown from the equator to near the Arctic, and from sea level to the Tibetan Plateau. Recent research demonstrates that production of the world wheat crop is likely to increase if atmospheric carbon dioxide levels rise.
Dry and Matured Wheat Seed (Source: Saikat Basu)
To feed the burgeoning worldwide human population explosion,
intensification of wheat farming has brought the by-product of
increased crop diseases; such practices as intensive irrigation, lack of
crop rotation and dependence on monocultures have promoted the
propagation of many fungal pathogenic infections that reduce the yields
of wheat and other cereal crops, and in some cases can lead to human
disease via mycotoxin production.Green or white? Planted or painted roofs can cool buildings
As the world inexorably warms, Roger Kemp shows how we can help to keep our buildings cool with roof gardens - or just with white paint. And if enough people do it, entire cities will become more cooler, more pleasant places to be when hot weather hits ...
It's getting hot in the city, and our overheated cities are only going toget hotter still as more people pile in and development and energy use intensifies.
But planting away the problem could be a surprisingly low-cost
solution to create cool roofs that will reduce office temperatures and
improve working conditions for millions.
As more people move into urban areas and the effects of climate change steadily increase, it's not surprising that urban warming is projected to worsen in the future.
My microbes, therefore I am: fermentation, health, and human identity
I've recently developed an obsession with the diverse and time-tested food tradition of fermentation.
Jars of kimchi and sauerkraut, kefir and kombucha, are regulars on my kitchen shelf, quietly teeming with life and effervescence.
Little did I know, when I first chopped and salted cabbage, pounded it until my knuckles were pink, and left it to it's own mysterious processes, that this simple act would take me on a journey through time and space, from the emergence of cellular life on earth 3.5 billion years ago, to the complex nature of human identity, to the inner workings of my own gut.
Kefir - the 'Champagne of the Caucasus'
Allow me to introduce fermentation properly, personally, through one of my newer acquaintances: kefir. A fermented dairy drink known as "the champagne of the Caucasus Mountains" (Margulis and Sagan, 70), kefir is thought to have originated amongst nomadic shepherds, who inoculated cow, goat or sheep milk with kefir grains.
Over time they selecting for the best starters, thereby propagating certain microbial individuals and eliminating others.
Kefir grains form from a symbiotic community of bacteria and yeast (SCOBY) which share nutrients and coordinate reproduction. While some of the microbial members of this community have been identified, the synergistic effect of their relationships has so far defied replication in the laboratory.
In the words of biologist Lynn Margulis, "Kefir can no more be made by the 'right mix' of chemicals or microbes than can oak trees or elephants." (Margulis and Sagan, 74)
The grains look a bit like troll boogers. They form white, rubbery, pea- to walnut-size clusters which grow and reproduce quickly if fed and kept at the right temperature.
And the boogers are lively ...
I've learned that the fermentation happens more rapidly if the milk is stirred at least once a day, exposing more liquid to kefir grain surfaces, where metabolic activity is highest.
The pace of the fermentation process has worked its way into the rhythm of my days - how long it ferments strongly influences its consistency, effervescence, and sourness, down to the hour.
It's inevitable to begin regarding these strange little blobs as animate organisms. I admit to developing an affection for them. When I went away for Christmas, I left them in the fridge without milk to slow down their metabolism, and asked a friend to feed them every few days to keep them alive.
She forgot, and I returned to find a sad, yellowing lump of grains. I assumed they were "dead", their microbial composition irreversibly changed, no longer the coherent system that I had come to know and care for.
But, just in case, I picked out a few whiter, plumper clusters beneath the exposed surface and transferred them to a jar of fresh milk. Within a few days, they had doubled in size, and the milk had soured and fizzed promisingly.
I sipped it with caution, trusting my nose and tongue to know the difference between kefir and milk-gone-off. Joyously, the kefir grains had persisted, resilient little buggers. We're back in business.
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