Month: August 2023

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The Week in Pages: August 7, 2023

I once read the phrase “August is the Sunday of summer” – I can’t remember who said (wrote?) it or when or where, but it always stuck with me. This year it feels particularly true; last week we were on vacation – pictures and stories coming soon – and this is the first Monday back, settling into the last two weeks of camp before back to school (WOW, did that ever speed by) and reminding myself what my routines are after three weeks of nearly nonstop traveling. If anything, this month feels like Sunday afternoon before the rush of September.

Anyway. So, yes, I was on vacation last week! For those keeping score at home, that’s trip number three in three weeks – first I spent a week on the west coast for a work retreat, then a week working remotely in the Adirondacks (and hiking around the workdays), and then finally a week of vacation, which was road-tripping around New England with Steve and the kids. All of that hasn’t left a ton of time for reading, but I did have a couple of long car rides and some pool time last week, so I got my page-turning in then. It was a very good week of reading, indeed – as far as quality and enjoyment went. First up, I finished up Excavacations, by Kate Myers, which was a fun, feminist romp of a debut novel. I absolutely loved it, and it was perfect vacation reading (although even better would’ve been to read it on vacation in Greece; not that I’m complaining about Maine!). Then I turned my attention to Born a Crime, by Trevor Noah, which I have somehow missed out on up to now; it has been on my to-read list for ages, but I just never got around to it. That’s all changed now – I snagged the paperback off my mom’s coffee table and took it with me on vacation, finishing up in the car on the way home. I’ll have more to say in my monthly reading round-up, but it absolutely wowed me. And then finally, I picked up my current read, The Growing Summer, by Noel Streatfeild, about four children who are shipped off to spend the month of August with an eccentric great-aunt in Ireland. It’s a fun and fast read and I’m already 80 pages in, despite just starting it yesterday afternoon.

The week ahead: more of the same, as far as reading is concerned, anyway. Once I finish The Growing Summer, I’ve got a few more summery reads on my stack for August. I’ve been wanting to read Rumer Godden’s The Greengage Summer for years now, so I think that will be next – I specifically pulled it off my shelf before moving, just in case I didn’t have time to unpack books before all of my summer travel (as indeed I did not). Reading around work and camp schedules and workouts and unpacking – I am determined to have a functional, working kitchen by Friday, so that’s my evenings for this week – will be a challenge, but I’m sure I’ll find time to squeeze in the pages.

We had such a wonderful week on vacation in New England last week! Road-tripping around Massachusetts, Maine, New Hampshire and Vermont was a perfect family trip for us this year.

What are you reading this week?

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Antarctica and Patagonia 2023: Neko Harbour, Part II – A Shore Landing on the Mainland

Just as we wrapped up our morning paddle and unloaded from our kayaks into Big Bertha the zodiac, the sky darkened and the clouds rolled in – perfect timing to get off the water. We made for a small demilune shaped beach: our landing spot on mainland Antarctica. I couldn’t believe this day had finally come!

As with all of our shore landings, the expedition guides had landed first and staked out a hiking route for us to follow. This time, we’d be climbing about 45 meters up a steep hill to a ridge overlooking the bay – a spectacular view.

The penguins, of course, had their own ideas about where to walk. These deep grooves in the ice were called “penguin highways” – the favorite routes for penguins going to and fro between the nesting colony and the shore. Our route crossed the penguin highway, and one of the expedition guides was standing at the intersection to hold up traffic when a penguin was coming or going; the wildlife always has the right of way! I don’t know about anyone else, but I personally didn’t mind being held up for a few minutes and watching the penguins waddle adorably up and down their highway.

Steve and I felt rather like orange and green penguins in our drysuits and neoprene kayak skirts.

We picked our way over the ice, past a smallish colony of nesting penguins – fluffy chick alert! – and finally reached the high point in our climb.

The view was indeed spectacular. Our massive ship looked like a toy from up here!

And we could look down on a huge glacier – WOW.

I got in line to take a picture on a little ledge overlooking the bay. As I was stepping onto the ledge, the previous guest – who was stepping off – slipped and grabbed me by the arm, almost taking us both over the edge. I quipped, “A little notice next time,” and she replied, “I just figured if I’m going to die, I’m taking a friend with me.” “I really don’t know you that well,” I replied. Clumsy McSlippingfall giggled – no, but seriously, lady, we’re not friends – and went on her way. And I had the ledge to myself.

I’m the queen of the world!

On our way down the slope, with plenty of time before our zodiac would be leaving to head back to the ship, Steve and I stopped to spend some time with Jomi, the expedition ornithologist, who was posted up near the largest penguin colony at the landing site. We watched the penguins comfortably brooding their little grey bundles of joy – and then I noticed some interesting behavior.

One of the brooding penguins suddenly tilted its beak to the sky and gave a trilling call. It looked like the alarm calls I’d seen at Port Charcot, but none of the other penguins at the nesting site looked bothered at all; they just went about their business. I concluded, then, that this couldn’t be an alarm – it must be a contact call to a partner just returning from the water.

Sure enough, before long another penguin arrived and made a beeline for the nesting penguin and chick I’d been watching. I leaned over to Jomi, pointed them out, and said, “Is that the partner?” He looked at the pair and replied, “Must be, or the nesting parent would never let the other one get that close to the chick, it would be snapping at it.”

The next moment, both penguins raised their beaks to the sky and made the same trilling call. Clearly the partner, then, and this was their contact call. I was tickled to have figured it out.

The returning penguin craned its neck down to inspect the chick. I imagined that this was mom returning from a fishing trip, and not entirely trusting Dad but wanting to see the chick for herself, in one piece and not playing video games.

LOL. Obviously not – but I don’t care what anyone says, it’s fun to anthropomorphize penguins. (Also, this could easily have been Dad returning to Mom; male and female penguins are indistinguishable. I just like making up little stories for them.)

The returning parent then bent down and fed the chick with fish from its beak; sadly, this is the best picture I got. And then the returning parent took over the nest while the brooding parent left for its own fishing trip. I was beyond thrilled to have witnessed the entire encounter from beginning to end – and really pleased with myself for deciphering what was happening throughout (with my hypotheses confirmed by Jomi!). Especially being a bird nerd, it added a layer of meaning to the whole day that I understood enough about penguins and their behavior to know what was happening.

See you later, Dad (or Mom!) – have a good fishing trip, bring me back lots of krill!

Next week: we kayak in Paradise Bay and see more whales!