Falls and Jet

The water from Lake Taupo flows out via the Waikato river. One section of this river narrows to form Huka falls. The falls are not very tall. In fact, the water flowing over the falls almost hides them. But the water is a churning froth. This is beyond white water. Even above the falls, the water churns, and is a strange pale blue, marbled with white. Where it gushes over Huka Falls into the large and suddenly wide river below, The water bubbles up solid white for dozens of yards.
We arrived at the falls overlook, early in the morning. we had the short walk along the narrow stretch of river to ourselves. After we had taken many pictures, none of which look quite real, we headed to hukafalls Jet to get a different perspective of the falls. After suiting up in a rain jacket and life vest that would have made both Neo and Superman proud, we loaded into the boat, Jake and I taking front row seats.

Riding in the boat felt like gliding on ice, as our pilot fishtailed the boat along the banks, in and out of tree stumps and small islands, and under the wings of escaping black swans. On the open water, he cut the wheel, and whoo! partially airborne 360! splash! We headed downstream for a bit, then turned and headed up for the falls. Many "close calls" with the river banks, and spins later, we arrived near the foot of the falls. We could go no further. That white boil of water was more air than H2O, and boats only float on water.

Monreale Duomo and San Giovanni degli Eremiti

Just outside of Palermo is the town of Monreale. Here, the Monreale Duomo presides over an earthen colored city. Built by the grandson of the man responsible for Palermo's Cappella Palatina, this church outmatches it in sheer size as well as grandeur. Like the Capella Palatina, it has mixed Norman and Arabian influences.

From the exterior, the church is beautiful, but blends into the buildings around it. Walking through its doors, however, brings about such a change. Sunlight streams in through an arched window at the back of the church and sets the golden mosaic-ed walls dancing with light. The light fades towards the front of the church, where even more impressive mosaics lay somewhat in shadow.

At the very front of the church was a huge representation of Christ Christ Pantocrator. This church, while perhaps not a particularly familiar name, is thought by many to only be outdone by the better known Hagia Sophia.

From near the rear of the church, it is possible to climb, for a small fee, into the tower. After climbing some stairs, you work your way down a shoulder wide passageway overlooking the cloister courtyard below. Keep your eye out for a palm sized hole in a wood panel to your left. Here you can peer out into the church from among the rafters. Eventually, the passage opens onto a catwalk across the eave of the church's tile roof, affording a better view of the well manicured courtyard below. Then briefly through another narrow passage and up a few more stairs, and you will arrive near the pinnacle of one of the churches towers, affording a look away towards Palermo and the sea.

The cloisters themselves can be accessed by leaving the church and heading around to a separate entrance. There is an additional fee to visit them as well. The main attraction here is that each and every column in the colonnade around the cloister is uniquely carved. We were fortunate enough to arrive at a time of day when the lighting showed these differences in shadow and light. We opted to settle for the view from the doorway, and followed our stomachs across the street to a sort of convenience store hybridized with a cafe.

After what sadly turned out to be Italian microwaved dinners, we headed back towards Palermo to visit San Giovanni degli Eremiti. This church turned mosque turned church again has a solidly middle eastern exterior, which was unfortunately, all we were able to see. Because the church was undergoing major renovations, we were not able to visit it. Instead, we climbed a nearby tower with a guide, who pointed out the prominent red domes, as well as several other prominent buildings throughout Palermo.

With that, we were finished with Sicily, and headed next towards the Island of Sardenia.

Planting of Trees

In March we headed to East Tennessee to plant some trees with the Nature Conservancy and other partners. We met, in the foggy and chill early morning hours at a coal plant. Black grime covered the parking lot and trucks carrying loads of freshly mined coal rumbled in and out. After meeting with representative of the conservancy, we got into the car with Nature Conservancy employee Katherine Medlock. As we worked our way up through the hills along gravel service roads, past a coal slurry pond and numerous natural gas pumps, she told us a little about the program's efforts to improve the ineffective reclamation efforts on the strip mined hills.

When this area was reclaimed, after strip mining for coal, the soil was packed down hard to prevent erosion, and pine and locust trees were planted in a bed of non native grass. 30 years later, the only trees present were those planted by the workers, and they were stunted, their roots unable to penetrate into the compressed soil. That compression, and the dense thatch of grass that grew beneath and between the trees, prevented new seedlings from taking root. The aggressive grass also prevented other native plant species from occupying the reclaimed area.

As we continued up into the hills, we rose above the heavy fog into sunshine, beneath clear blue skies. In the vallies below, bright white lakes of fog shimmered against forested shores. It was a breathtaking view. Finally we pulled into a lot where other volunteers, mostly children with the Junior Marines, were gathering.

In order to solve the problems with the restored areas, a small patch of test area had been deeply plowed, and we were there to plant a collection of native trees that could grow in the loose soil, and allow the forest to develop. We planted red buds for their nitrogen fixing abilities, interspersed among several types of oak and chestnut. We worked with not just the Nature Conservancy, but also the Dept. of the Interior Office of Surface Mining Division, the Tennessee Wildlife Resources Agency, and the American Chestnut Foundation.

We were planting chestnut trees, which did not have the immunity to the chestnut blight, that has virtually wiped out the American Chestnut. These saplings were being planted to learn about how chestnut trees respond to such planting methods, to help ensure better success when planting the resistant chestnuts.

As we grabbed up dibbles and garbage bags full of trees, I wondered how long it would take us to plant this swath of plowed land. The answer was about three hours. Moving down the rows, alternating from left to right, we planted. Jake spearing a hole with the dibble, a volunteer from the DOI carrying the bag of trees, and me picking out trees and placing them into the hold while Jake pressed dirt in around them. The work was quick, and before long, we had warmed up in the sun. Here and there were pieces of coal, even a few fossils.

When we were done, we took the time to eat some snacks and listen to the various organizations involve explain their reasons for and roles in the work we had done today. As we headed back down to hill to our car with Katherine Medlock, I think we all felt a sense of satisfaction with the day's work.

You can read a little about this event on the Nature Conservancy's website.
http://www.nature.org/wherewework/northamerica/states/tennessee/press/press3936.html