Happy Easter Weekend

I wish you all a wonderful Easter weekend. I've been seeing lots of butterflies lately, a beautiful sign of life and rebirth. This is a mourning cloak (Nymphalis antiopa), a butterfly widespread throughout North America.

It was perched on our big apricot tree, flittering from branch to branch in the afternoon sunlight.

 
This large nest is a raven nest, and you can just barely see a black head poking out of it. Ravens are one of the earliest nesters in this area, and they are already sitting on eggs.

This little bird was on the grass at the post office, not too shy about collecting some nest material. It's a goldfinch, its colors muted at this time, but they will brighten as breeding season gets even closer.

The goldfinch was intent on finding just the right nest material.

I couldn't figure out what kind of butterfly this one is--after all, there are over 100 kinds where I live, and they don't even make sounds to give you an extra hint! That's okay, it's fun just to see that the colorful insects out and about. Very soon there will be an explosion of flowers,  giving them many more options for food. 

Desert Boy Climbs at the Playground

The other afternoon, Desert Boy took a break from going down the slides and decided to work on his climbing and balancing skills. What amazed me the most was that he fell down a few times, but just got back up, started again, and kept going until he could do it. 

This particular obstacle used to be really hard for him, in fact he couldn't do it alone. But in a few weeks he's grown a little more and gotten more coordinated, so he did better.

Can he make the next step?

Mama, are you still taking photos?

He starts smiling once he realizes he's nearly made it.

And then the pose. Henry's nose is poking into the right side of the photo--he stayed close.

Then it was onto the next challenge, one a little bit harder.






At this point I figured I better stop taking photos and go over to make sure he didn't fall. He didn't quite know how to get from the ladder to the platform, so he was "stuck." That's a new word. I think he'll be ready to go out rock climbing in the desert before too long.

The Coolest Desert Spring

We went and visited this super cool, downright fantastic spring this past weekend. Walking up to it, it might not seem that terrific, even though the sight of green algae and an open body of water is notable in the desert.

As I got closer, I realized that this spring is really something special. And a little dangerous. Underneath the algae, it suddenly became apparent that this little spring is not so little--the water is several feet deep. And it's unclear where the edge is with so much old vegetation surrounding it. Nevertheless, I wanted to get a little closer...

...to see the white sand at the bottom, and the little bubbles of air popping out of them. It was amazing.

I'd like to get on a float tube and just stare down at the water bubbling out. Maybe when it gets a little warmer. 

The spring is not just for oohing and ahhing, though. It provides important water for lots of organisms, including...

...this Columbia spotted frog. Desert Boy was fascinated and fortunately a little bit respectful. The frog was quite friendly and stayed rather still for its photo shoot. 

I love desert springs, there's such a contrast between the life-giving water and the arid surroundings.

NEWS FLASH---I've started another blog, called A Plant a Day. I'm on a mission to learn all the plants in the area where I live. There are about 1,000, so I figure it will take me a few years, but I might as well get started! Even if you aren't into learning plants, you can still see some some pretty pictures: http://aplantaday.blogspot.com.

Doggy Torture

The pond near our house has been refilled and Henry is delighted. But wait! It's covered with a thin layer of ice, thin enough he knows he breaks through. So seeing a stick out on the middle of the pond and knowing he can't get it is nothing short of torture!

Spring Scenes from the Ranch

Every day there are more signs of spring, and I love seeing them. My wildflower count is up to four (okay, three of those are non-natives, but at this point I'm so excited to see any extra bit of color). The greasewood is starting to get tiny leaves on it. More birds are arriving everyday: the sandhill cranes came a few weeks ago, and the curlews just a couple days ago. The western meadowlarks (photo above) hang out all winter, but they've started singing their exceptionally melodic "come hither" breeding song. They have an amazing ventriloquist ability, always sounding closer than they really are. I had to use a lot of zoom to get that photo.

Here's my action shot--the meadowlark flying away. Doesn't it take your breath away? Like lions pouncing on a kill or a kayaker about to go over a waterfall? Just say yes, and we'll move on.

When I was taking Desert Boy to the babysitter the other day, a huge herd of deer were out in the pasture. 

Apparently hunting season is a distant memory, for while they were alert when I stopped and started taking photos, they didn't bolt off. Do you see how they're all about the same size? Last year's fawns have really grown up a lot. It won't be too long before a new crop of fawns arrives.

The meadow still looks really brown, doesn't it? I guess even though I keep trying to find signs of spring, we have a way to go. 

Back to the deer. They're a good distraction. These are mule deer, so named because of their big, mulish ears. The better to hear, with, I imagine! 

Desert Destination: Goldstone Deep Space Communications Complex

Every Monday we visit a desert destination.

A few weeks ago I had the opportunity to visit a desert location that makes one realize how small our planet Earth is. That place was the Goldstone Deep Space Communications Complex, which has an array of antennas that communicate with spacecraft that might be billions of miles away. 

Yikes. I can't even fathom that distance. And to imagine we have communications that far away? Why, we don't even have cell phone coverage where I live, how can we possibly communicate with tiny little spacecraft we can't even see anymore?

Goldstone is located on the Fort Irwin Military Base about 35 miles north of Barstow, California.

When driving towards Fort Irwin, I noticed some signs that I don't usually see. 

The tank next to the Welcome sign provides an interesting message, especially with the gun pointed right at the cars driving on the highway!

After going through the security booth (which took awhile--I felt like I must be a decent human when they finally finished checking my documents and didn't find me appearing as wanted on any of the government databases), I headed down the road marked as Ammo Route. I'm not quite sure what that was about...and I wasn't sure I wanted to ask!

The desert skies darkened and opened, allowing a deluge of water to fall upon the desert. I managed to snap a photo of the entrance sign to Goldstone, but my windshield was splattered with rain drops. 

The road to the main Goldstone complex is fascinating. Tucked away in the creosote bushes are huge antennas, pointed in different directions up in the sky. They are placed in basins so that the surrounding mountains block stray signals from other sources.

The different arrays are given different names, some after planets, like the Venus station. 

At the main Goldstone complex, our group went into a classroom for an excellent presentation from the outreach coordinator, Karla Warner. Our group was the maximum size of 50, but groups as small as a single family can also go on the tour. Generally two tours a day, four days a week are given. Reservations are required by calling Karla at 760-225-8688 or emailing her at kwarner@gdscc.nasa.gov. About 4,000-5,000 people a year tour the Goldstone complex.

After the presentation, we had time to peruse the exhibits that covered a range of space-related themes.

Then it was time to go 12 miles further into the complex to the Mars Station, home of the largest antenna, 70-meter Mars. You can see how big it is compared to the tiny cars in the bottom right of the photo. 

Side note: Do you see all the bright blue sky? The storm dumped for about 20 minutes and then was over.

The antenna is so large because the signals coming from space can be extremely weak--as weak as a billionth of a billionth of a watt--20 billion times less than the power required for a digital wristwatch.

The shape of the antenna is extremely important to hear the whisper of the signal coming from tiny spacecraft so far away. To help figure out what the signal is, the extremely sensitive receivers use amplifiers that are cooled to within a few degrees above absolute zero (-273 degrees C; -460 degrees F) to reduce the background noise generated by the electronic equipment.

The antennas also send signals to the spacecraft, telling them to turn on computers, take photos, activate instruments, and make course corrections. 

Here are just a couple rows of equipment that are used to record the data received. There are many more rows in this section of the building. And another part of the building is used to house the data to be sent. 

Goldstone is in California, a state known for its earthquakes. So above all this sensitive equipment are round beams that the equipment cases are connected to. A strong earthquake might make the floor rattle and roll, but the computers and recorders will be safe.

California is not always in the optimum position to talk or listen to spacecraft because of the earth's rotation, so there are two other deep space facilities: near Canberra, Australia and near Madrid, Spain.
Here's a glimpse into the control room at Goldstone. Different computers control different antennas. For routine communications, 34-meter beam-waveguide antennas are the most common. Other types of antennas include high efficiency, azimuth-elevation, and hour-angle declination. (I really don't know what those mean, but I'm trying to sound intelligent. I remembered to take a little brochure with me from the tour so I could get my facts straight, because there's no way I could have remembered all this.)

And if you'd like to make sure I haven't told any lies--or you just want to learn more, you can visit the Deep Space Network website.

On the drive back out of Goldstone and Fort Irwin, I passed several desert tortoise crossing signs, but unfortunately didn't see any desert tortoises.

However, I did see a sea monster making its way across the lake dry bed. I would have liked to have stayed longer to make its acquaintance, but I was a little afraid because I was on the Ammo Route, and I still didn't know what that was.

I saw a sign before a bridge that declared the weight limit was 64 tons. I didn't think that was for the sea monster.

Sure enough, there were more tank crossing signs. The brake marks on the pavement make me wonder if someone didn't take the sign seriously enough.

And finally we reach the end.