Photo of magpie

Eurasian Magpie • Photo by Airwolfhound (CC BY SA 2.0)

Wildlife sparse in Ireland

For sev­er­al years now, cor­re­spon­dents to the let­ters columns of the Irish Times have heat­ed­ly debat­ed the mer­its — or lack of them — of mag­pies. The mag­pie is a large black-and-white bird that first appeared in Ire­land in the 17th Cen­tu­ry and is now pro­lif­er­at­ing in every part of the country.

Photo of European Starling

Photo by Mathias Appel (Public Domain)

Photo of Irish coast

Photo by Dave Herring on Unsplash

Image of glacial striations

Glacial scratches • Photo by Amezcackle (Public Domain)

Ice works the land

Set a geol­o­gist down any­where in New Eng­land and some­where near­by he will show you the work of ice. Eigh­teen thou­sand years ago all of New Eng­land lay beneath a half-mile-thick sheet of ice, part of a con­ti­nent-span­ning glac­i­er that reached from the deeply indent­ed coast of the Pacif­ic North­west to the gen­tly slop­ing con­ti­nen­tal shelf of New England.

Image of White Lady's-slipper

White lady's-slipper • Photo by Dr. Thomas G. Barnes / USFWS (Public Domain)

Delicate balance makes our universe

The nat­u­ral­ist John Muir said the two great­est expe­ri­ences of his life were camp­ing with Ralph Wal­do Emer­son at Yosemite and find­ing the rare orchid calyp­so bloom­ing alone in a Cana­di­an swamp. Last spring I found a wild orchid as excep­tion­al as a night with Emer­son: a white lady-slip­per, soli­tary, snow-pure, alone in a pine woods with 10,000 of its pink cousins. My Peter­son wild­flower guide admits the white vari­ant of the lady-slip­per and calls it rare and local. Rare and local, indeed! In my part of New Eng­land I have nev­er seen another.

Photo of an Annular eclipse

An annular eclipse • Photo by Kevin Baird (CC BY SA 3.0)

Infrared all-sky survey by IRAS

Infrared all-sky survey by IRAS (Public Domain)

Image of 15th-century star chart

Excerpt from the "Book of the Images of the Fixed Stars," 15th C., Persia (Public Domain)

Our reflection in the stars

Thore­au tells us that when he learned the Indi­an names for things he began to see them in a new way. When he asked his Indi­an guide why a cer­tain lake in Maine was called Sebamook, the guide replied: “Like as here is a place, and there is a place, and you take water from there and fill this, and it stays here: that is Sebamook.” Thore­au com­piled a glos­sary of Indi­an names and their mean­ings. It was like a map of the Maine woods. It was a nat­ur­al his­to­ry. The Indi­an names of things remind­ed Thore­au that intel­li­gence flowed in chan­nels oth­er than his own.

Photo of Canada mayflower

Canada mayflower • Photo by Dr. Thomas G. Barnes, U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service (Public Domain)

Image of many galaxies

The Hubble Deep Field photograph • R. Williams (STScI), the Hubble Deep Field Team and NASA/ESA

Not with a bang but a laugh

A cre­ation myth from the ancient Mediter­ranean has God bring all things into being with sev­en laughs. Here is how Charles Doria and Har­ris Lenowitz trans­late the first laugh: Light (Flash) / showed up / All split­ter / born uni­verse god / fire god. Those lines are two thou­sand years old, but they apt­ly describe the mod­ern sci­en­tif­ic view of Creation.