Listen

When you look at the pictures in this post, try to hear hundreds of seagulls calling to each other, a bald eagle in a nearby tree twittering to his mate, and an otter cracking clams on his stomach. In China Poot Bay, there is never silence. There is far too much life to create a quiet world.

If a picture is worth a thousand words, how many words is a soundscape worth? New research by Bryan Pijanowski of Purdue University and his associates is looking at how ecosystem health can be determined by the sounds that you hear in a given place. This research not only looks at what you can hear, but what you no longer hear that should be there.

The world we live in is so dominated by human sound. We become so accustomed to the buzz in the background, that we don’t notice it’s there until we go to a place where that buzz no longer dominates. In those few places in the world where human sounds are the exception rather than the rule, I believe we can truly listen to ourselves. If we listen for what’s there as well as what’s not, we may even be able to hear how we can begin the heal the ecosystems we have impacted. 

The taste of summer

Every place I’ve lived has fruits and vegetables that define summer. Growing up in Colorado, I knew the end of spring was near when the asparagus began popping up in the fields. In Alaska, summer is full of wild berries.

Watermelon berries have a light sweet taste and are often the first to ripen. I can never resist eating the first tart blueberries, even though they won’t be truly ripe until at least August. Soon, salmon berries that range in color from yellow to nearly purple and resemble giant raspberries will fill the sunny slopes near the trails. Most of the berries are just beginning to grow, some are still flowers, but in a matter of weeks they will fill the woods.

Summer is the time to taste the world around you and celebrate what it provides. Whether you are looking forward to the first fruit that drops from the trees or watching your garden as it grows, there is a certain magic to both gathering and growing your own food. It’s a way to celebrate life.