Eastern Gall Rust

I took this picture in April .. but only recently figured out what it was. When looking up something else I ran across a photo of Eastern Gall Rust (Cronartium quercuum). It's similar to the Cedar Apple Rust that I wrote about last year. They are both heteroecious, which means that they require two unrelated hosts to complete the life cycle.
I learned that $10 word from the Rust page on James Worrall's excellent Forest Pathology site, where you can also learn about cankers and wilts and so many other problems that you'll be amazed that trees can survive at all.
According to one site, the portion of the tree beyond the gall normally dies, which I suppose explains why I haven't noticed this gall since the spring I took this picture.

Cactiprunes

I've read that they're supposed to shrivel in winter, to prevent damage when it freezes. But this seems a little extreme.

Opuntia humifusa, Eastern prickly pear cactus.
It's the only cactus that's native here. I remember being really surprised the first time I ever saw one growing out in a field.
It likes poor soil - dry and rocky suits it just fine. So where it grows in our backyard is probably not a good place for flowerbeds.
When the previous owner scraped out a road and put down chert on part of the property, this cactus sprang up in sunny areas along the edges. The healthiest plants are growing in a small area that was apparently cut over as a turn-around for the trucks. Wild hyacinth (Camassia scilloides) flourishes there in the spring.

Foothill Sunset

Foothill Sunset, originally uploaded by ParsecTraveller.

The hills are golden this time of the year, and while that means the wildflowers are gone too, it doesn't mean there are no scenes left to photograph.
The hills turn an ethereal pink just after the Sun sets behind the mountains. This photo shows the Sun about 30 seconds before it disappeared into the coastal hills.

Collective effort

Unfortunately there weren't enough of us today. The score in the Six Nations rugby match at Murrayfield was Scotland 6, Wales 24.
When I passed this poster (is that the right word? it seems too big for a poster) yesterday morning, the comma was up at the top of the 'y' of 'play', like an apostrophe. When I passed by on my way home in the evening, it had shifted down to be a comma. I wonder whose concern for grammar got it sorted.

SOUTH OF THE BORDER - MEXICO

Well, we've been here since November and have only one month left and hadn't been to Mexico yet, so we decide to venture down South of the Border. We hear from many Winter Texans that Nuevo Progresso is still safe.We travel down with our Canadian neighbors, Shirley and Marie - they're not chicken!



We park on the U.S. side and walk over the International Bridge - there is a 25 cent toll.

You can see the "Wall" that was built - complete with gaps - what were they thinking?The Rio GrandeCan you find the soldier in this picture? Hint . . . he is camouflaged

The main drag, full of shops, drugstores and dentists and wall to wall sidewalk vendors.Prescription drugs are 1/3 to 1/4 the cost of U.S. and you don't need a prescription to buy them. You can get a porcelain crown done for $90-$140. In one drugstore a lady was loading prescription drugs into a suitcase and most of the Dental Clinics had full waiting rooms.



It is a warm day and all the walking makes us thirsty and hungry!

A popular spot off the main drag. Unfortunately, the quaint open air marketplace where it is located has fallen by the wayside because most people are afraid to venture outside the main area.

We enjoy a nice lunch, margaritas and music.Time to go back to the States but we will return (I could use a crown or two and it is only $13 a bottlefor Tanqueray, Capt. Morgan and Absolute Peach. Hasta la Vista!



Meanwhile we keep on Trek'n Melissa & Gary

Lake Superior Aurora - Grand Portage, MN

Here's what I captured last night. Throughout the afternoon I was watching the Aurora forecast sites predicting STORM-LEVEL Auroras only to watch the index fall just as darkness was approaching in Northern Minnesota. Even though the activity level was no longer classified as "STORM" by the time it got dark here, it was still classified as "ACTIVE", so I decided to head out and watch the sky for a while. It was a good thing I did, as I saw plenty of activity in the first hour that I was looking. At first all I could see were several faint pillars of light dancing from East to West across the sky. Soon those pillars were joined by a glowing green "cloud" of light. Above the lights the sky was saturated with stars. Lake Superior was so calm the only sound coming from the shoreline below my clifftop vantage point was the barely audible, soft lapping sound of the water as it kissed the rocks along the beach. It was a sublime night for sure!

Moments that make an uncle proud

As much as I enjoy riding my bike, it usually feels pretty good to get done after a long day of cycling.
My ride this past Monday was no exception. With the day off from work, favorable weather conditions and my stomach in full-scale recovery mode from the onslaught of Easter (in retrospect, cherry cheesecake AND pumpkin pie probably wasn't the best choice for dessert), I decided to visit the old stomping grounds.
Starting from my parent's house in Sartell, I did a 35-mile bike loop of the St. Cloud area, making four stops along the way: the YMCA for weightlifting, a local sandwich shop for lunch, club rowing practice for nostalgia and the downtown bars for drinks in the non-water variety (here is the route I took, though the map probably means little to my Mankato-centric readership).
The day of biking was most certainly enjoyable. The weather was beautiful, my bike cooperated (no flat tires or any other malfunctions that have befallen my $85 Kuwahara) and it was cool getting to visit old friends. It also helped reaffirm my beliefs that Mankato is a far superior community for biking (more bike paths and motorists that actually watch for cyclists).
However, the best part of the ride came at the very end of it when I got back to my parent's house. This wasn't due to exhaustion from biking, though I was pretty psyched to have my mom's homemade rigatoni for dinner.
No, the real enjoyment came from what I saw as I approached my parent's driveway: My 4-year-old niece Alaina was riding up and down the driveway on her single-gear training wheel bike complete with handlebar basket, princess colors, tassels and glitter. The tires on her bike were flat, but she was still grinning ear-to-ear at the site of her uncle getting home, anxious to show off her styling ride to a fellow biking enthusiast.
She pointed out the features of her bike with the excitement of a seasoned cyclist who just bought a $10,000 ride. After commenting on my bike's lack of a handlebar basket, she led the way on a down-and-back trip up the driveway while I told her stories of her uncle's clumsy beginnings in cycling and reassured her that I would never be able to beat her in a race.
Really, it was a moment to cherish. I'm still kicking myself for not having my camera handy. Just about every uncle worth his weight in piggy-back rides will claim their 4-year-old niece to be the most adorable thing on the face of the earth. But at that point in time, I felt I could have made a valid argument.
It might have been the sheer elation of getting to hang out with my niece (I don't make it up to St. Cloud to visit as often as I'd like), or the joy of seeing her take after her uncle hobby-wise. But I could not have been prouder.