Signs and Wonders

May you live in interesting times.
                                --a curse, reported by an early 20th c. British ambassador to China

Look around, look around
At how lucky we are to be alive right now.
                                --Hamilton

Despite the signs that the coronavirus is still surging in the U.S., that colleges are already experiencing outbreaks (despite the fact that fall classes haven't started yet), and that people are  desperately willing to believe all kinds of misinformation about cures, 

Yet the natural world keeps surprising and delighting me with wonders, most of them right here in our yard. Let me share a few with you.

Look at this caterpillar,  munching its way through a bit of my dill plant. 

It might become a butterfly like this one.

Speaking of insects, I got to see a cicada emerging from its shell the other night. 

It was at once a horrifying and amazing sight: a wonder to behold!

Despite the insect life, tiny pickle-sized cucumbers on my cucumber plant are growing into useful produce. 

I made tabouli out of this cuke and tomato, the parsley, some mint, and even some second-chance green onions I sprouted in a juice glass on the counter!  I find it pretty wondrous to be able to make almost an entire dish with stuff from my garden. 

I have heard that more people have been into gardening this summer because of Covid. I hope all the newcomers to gardening have satisfying experiences.

One amazing wonder of this month wasn't alive. It was comet Neowise, which made a once-in-7000-years visit to our solar system. When I heard it was easily visible, I became obsessed with seeing it. I missed Hale-Bopp, which apparently came through in 1997, but I was busy then. And Halley's comet, in 1986, was a dud. So this was my chance!

We decided to go out of town to see it so we would be away from the bright lights. We drove northwest, and after we got off the highway, I told Bruce to watch for "a small road" for me to turn on. 

We found a gravel road, turned, and discovered probably a half-dozen or more cars already parked at the side of the road, and people out looking heavenward with binos!

It reminded me of the solar eclipse in 2017, when I joined a group of people congregated by the side of the highway in Missouri to Experience Totality. Strangers became friendly--we chatted together and encouraged one another.

Same thing the night we went to see the comet. The people there helped us find the comet. We could easily see it with our binos: there it was below the Big Dipper, with its fizzy tail, going somewhere.  Without binos, you could see it best out of the corner of your eye--it didn't quite want to be seen. It's a Wonder: it deserves to be a bit hard to spot.

The next night, we took Anne with us, and met Robbie and Aubrey at the same place. Robbie took this amazing photo, above.

Last week, activist and congressman John Lewis passed away at age 80. His death hit me: I remember learning about him in my FYS back in 1980: SNCC, Pettus Bridge, marching and speaking with Dr. King. His dedication to voting rights and racial justice--despite all, including the current administration--is an inspiration. 

I heard about this commemoration of John Lewis, involving ringing church bells. Our church doesn't have bells (how many do, really?), but I knew where there was a bell: on Coe's campus. So I asked the administration if Coe was going to commemorate John Lewis in this way. President McInally liked the idea, but was out of town. He asked me if I could organize the bell-ringing.

The time for the bell-ringing was less than 24 hours away, but we were able to do it.

The younger people who came by to help ring hadn't heard about the movie Selma, so I urged them to watch it. That moment when the entire group of protesters kneels down in prayer--as one--on the bridge gives me chills just to think about it. I remember watching it and thinking "Oh Christian brothers and sisters! Where are you now?"

An essay by Lewis appeared in the NYTimes today, the day of his funeral. In it he reminded us:

Though I may not be here with you, I urge you to answer the highest calling of your heart and stand up for what you truly believe. In my life I have done all I can to demonstrate that the way of peace, the way of love and nonviolence is the more excellent way. Now it is your turn to let freedom ring.

It's time for all of us to follow in John Lewis's footsteps. He was a wonder, and he wanted us to be wonders, too.

Covid Summer: another graph

While the number of Covid cases in the US has continued to rise for the past few weeks, I've been consoling myself by looking at the number of deaths, which for a long time, kept falling.

Maybe they've got some good care protocols figured out, I thought. Maybe the virus isn't as dangerous as we'd first thought.

Bruce gently reminded me that the death rate is a lagging indicator, though. And the past three days, I've noticed that it's starting to catch up.

Do you see the little bend at the end of this graph where it turns from being a downward slope to an upward one? That's where the 7-day average starts to change: once again, the number of deaths from Covid in the US is rising.

Sadly, almost the entire country is experiencing a rise in cases--today, all states but Vermont, New Hampshire, and Maine are either "mostly the same" or "rising."

Despite this, the president is threatening schools that if they don't open in the fall, they'll lose federal funding. And there have been no general updates about Coe's plans for having in-person classes, so I'm continuing to plan for f2f.

For example, I reserved a room for the Writing Center's first staff meeting--an important event for reconnecting with consultants, setting a tone for the year, and introducing new staff. Usually, we cram into the Writing Center Space for a fun photo op, complete with hugs, laughter, and whooping.

From fall 2019. This is not going to happen in fall 2020, alas.

This year, we'll be meeting in Sinclair Auditorium, which usually holds hundreds. Now its limit is 100.

Sinclair Auditorium when the presidential candidates visited last fall.  It'll be me up on the stage for our meeting. Gazette photo.

We found out this morning that the roommate of one of Aubrey's co-workers has a roommate who tested positive for Covid. Aubrey's co-worker tested negative, but she and Robbie are self-isolating for a while anyway. Yikes: that's about as close as we've gotten to Covid so far. At least as far as we know. We're going to bring them some pesto Sunday night--our usual time for dinner together. Maybe we'll have a distanced meal, maybe we'll just meet via Zoom.

Meanwhile, the weather's turned cooler after about 2 weeks of hot n humid. We had one monarch caterpillar on our milkweed, but I can't find it now: eaten by a bird?

On the other hand, a tulle row-cover has kept the Evil White Butterflies from laying eggs on my kale; no green caterpillars there!

And we are about to begin tomato season.

Summer rolls on, despite Covid.

Covid turnaround for July

One month ago, I would not have guessed that things would be where they are today, Covid-wise.  One month ago, June 1, it looked like maybe we'd flattened the curve. The number of covid cases was kind of in a plateau--maybe a high plateau, like a mesa? Things looked pretty calm.

1 July Covid cases in U.S. graph from NYTimes.com

But one month ago was about when many states in the US started opening up, allowing restaurants and bars to open, and stopping regular briefings on the virus. States that had shelter-in-place orders were lifting those orders (Iowa was one of very few states that never did have an order).

At first, things were OK. But then. Well, you can see for yourself, and you probably have. The hardest hit states are in the south, with Florida, Texas, and Arizona all reporting big surges in infections and hospitalizations, but the Times noted that 39 states (!) had growth in reported cases over the past 2 weeks. Including Iowa.

It's gotten so bad that many states are pausing, or even reversing, their reopening decisions. And even Republicans are starting to wear masks and urging people to wear them. Not Trump, of course. He is such a disaster.

I've noticed more people NOT wearing masks when I've been out. The other day when I stopped in at the grocery store for just a few items, the only other person I saw with a mask was the cashier. And today at the post office, the workers were wearing masks, but none of the customers (except me). One customer was a gentleman who looked to be over 65. . . what are people thinking?

I think they are thinking that Covid is over. Maybe they haven't seen the graphs.

There were no recommendations for mask-wearing in the guidelines for reopening schools this fall that Iowa's Department of Education published this week. There was some odd language about not allowing people to be shamed for not wearing masks. ("Teach and reinforce the prevention of stigma associated with the use or non-use of facial coverings to support a respectful, inclusive, and supportive school environment.")

Meanwhile, Coe seems to be forging ahead with its plan to open on-campus. The college is going to supply students with masks and faceshields! Yay! Faculty will get masks and faceshields, too.
On the other hand, we've got a strange plan for getting students to campus. Returning students (upperclassmen) can move in August 10-13. First-years move in August 14-15.

Classes start August 19.

What will the students be doing all that time between move-in and classes starting? The returning students might be on campus for 10 days before classes start.

I'm planning the Writing Center New Consultant Orientation (which will probably take place mostly online this year, right before classes start), so I asked the Residence Life staff what they had planned for students. Is there programming happening during that time? Res Life says nope. Students will be expected to "keep to themselves" in their dorms while awaiting Covid testing, which Coe is arranging for everyone. First-years will have some "static programming" for orientation, but nothing in large groups, of course.
So 1400 students on a campus with little to do other than wait. What could possibly go wrong?

Here's a hint: two Iowa counties experiencing huge surges in Covid--among the 18-34 year old crowd--are Johnson County and Story County, the homes of University of Iowa and Iowa State, and where athletes have just returned to campus for practices.

********

In fun news, we had a little weekend getaway with Robbie and Aubrey, up in Decorah, Iowa (which has reported only 32 cases of Covid). We planned this trip a few weeks ago when we found out that Aubrey's employer prohibited out-of-state travel, which mean she would be unable to join her family at their Wisconsin cabin. A trip to Decorah in "lower Minnesota" would be a nice way to get away for a bit, but stay in-state.

We had a great time, staying in an Airbnb, visiting Robbie's alma mater--Luther College--and visiting lots of beautiful outdoor spots. We self-catered some meals and also supported local restaurants that had carry-out.

Seed Savers Exchange is a great place to see heirloom vegetables and flowers growing in demonstration gardens.

I took this photo of Aubrey taking a photo of Robbie taking a photo of Dunning's Springs waterfall. Very "meta."