Dan Frommer has posted a guide called, “10 steps to better blogging“. His rules are aimed at commercial bloggers/journalists, but even for the hobbyist/student there are some noteworthy points (certainly ones I try to follow):
1. Accuracy is essential: Be forthright about errors and fix them.
4. Cite your sources: It’s honest, and honorable to give credit where it’s due.
7. Grammar and spelling are important: You don’t necessarily have to use the Queen’s English but use language intentionally.
10. Try new things: It’s a new medium so there are lots of areas for discovery.
Most of these are just the basic elements of good writing.
I’d also suggest that it’s important to include your perspective wherever you can. There are a number of great places that aggregate a lot of good information, but for the aspiring writer, adding your unique point of view should help find your voice.
The landfill/quarry we visited was originally a limestone quarry; once they had the hole in the ground they needed to fill it with something so why not trash (and why not get paid to fill it).
The limestone bedrock is blasted daily to create some massive boulders. The boulders are then loaded on some equally massive dumptrucks. There are scarce few minutes between trucks, so a lot of rocks are being moved.
The trucks then dump their load into a large building where the rocks are crushed. Our guide made us stop the bus to watch the process. While watching a dumptruck unloading might seem mundane, the enormous size of the truck and its boulder load did seem to captivate the students.
Once the rocks are crushed, the resulting sediment is sorted by size (sand, pebbles and gravel, I think) and piled up. The piles are massive. I’ve been wanting a good picture that shows the angle of repose; I got several.
The pebbles and gravel are used for road construction and provide a matrix for concrete.
Since limestone dissolves fairly easily in rainwater, the sand-sized and smaller particles (< 2mm diameter) aren't used for construction -- hard, insoluble quartz sand is preferred.
Limestone: calcium carbonate (CaCO3)
However, the limestone sediment piles sit out in the open and some the finer grains (silt sized particularly), and any dissolve calcium carbonate, get washed into the nearby ponds, which turn a beautiful, bright, milky green.
Finally, in addition to the limestone sediment piles, there is also one enormous pile of broken up concrete. One of the things that stuck with the students was that fact that you can recycle concrete.
One of the questions that came up when we were talking about dealing with the highly contaminated leachate that drains out of landfills, is what would happen to it if it was just put into a lake or the ocean. Would the liquid just mix into the water, or would it stay separate.
I’m afraid I did not go with an easy answer. It depends after all on two things: how different the density is of the leachate from seawater; and how turbulent is the water.
Turbulent water will make the leachate more likely to mix, while a greater density difference would cause them to “want” to remain separate. An extremely dense leachate might just settle to the bottom of a lake and stay there.
Small Islands
One example of two fluids that are in contact but stay separate is in the groundwater beneath small islands. Rain water falls on the island and seeps into the ground. It’s fresh, but the water in the surrounding ocean and the water that’s already underground are both salty. Salty water is more dense than the fresh so the freshwater will float on top of the salty water creating a thin lens.
How thick is the lens? For every meter that the fresh groundwater is above sea level, there are 40 meters of fresh water below sea level (1:40). This is because saltwater has density of about 1.025 g/cm3, while freshwater has a density of about 1.000 g/cm3 (note that I use four significant figures in each of these values).
The freshwater lens can be a great source of drinking water on these isolated small islands, but like the islands themselves, they are threatened by rising sea levels due to global warming.
I needed a little icon of flames to show the methane from the landfill being burned for heat. So I googled, “svg flames” and ran into the free svg blog. Their svg images are aimed at scrapbookers, but they’ve got some good ones, and they’re free.
NASA thinks their rover has found veins of gypsum on Mars. If they have, it will be an excellent indication that there was once standing water on Mars — gypsum is usually precipitated in evaporating lakes — and will excite the search for life on Mars.
Decomposing waste in landfills produces quite a lot of methane gas (CH4). Perhaps better known as natural gas, methane is one of the simplest hydrocarbons, and a serious atmospheric pollutant (it’s a powerful greenhouse gas). In the past the methane produced was either released into the atmosphere or just burned off.
I remember seeing the offshore oil rigs burning natural gas all night long — multiple miniature sunrises on the horizon — in the days before the oil companies realized they could capture the gas and sell it or burn it to produce energy. The landfill companies have realized the same thing. So now, wells pockmark modern landfills and the methane is captured and used.
First, of course, the hydrogen sulfide gas (H2S), is separated from the methane — H2S produces acid rain, so it’s emissions are limited by the EPA — then, the gas from the landfill we visited, is piped to:
greenhouses, where it’s burnt to produce heat;
the Pattonville High School, which is right next to the landfill and burns the gas for heating;
and (soon) to a electricity generating power plant that will burn the gas to produce heat which will boil the water that will produce the steam that will turn the turbines that will generate the electricity.
You may have noticed the common theme of all these uses of natural gas: it has to be burned to be useful. The combustion reaction is:
CH4 (g) + 2 O2 (g) —-> CO2 (g) + 2 H2O (g)
which produces carbon dioxide (CO2) that is also a greenhouse gas, but is, at least, not nearly as powerful at greenhouse warming as is methane.
The cliffs of the quarry were stained red. Blood, seeping out from between the bedding planes between layers of rocks, might have left similar traces down the sides of the near-vertical cliffs’ faces. But these stains are actually made of iron.
Rain falling on the land above the quarry, seeps into the ground. There it moves downward through the soil, leaching out some of the minerals there, but going ever downward. Downward until it meets a layer of soil or rock that it can’t get through. Clay layers are pretty impermeable, though in this case it’s a layer of coal. The water can’t move through the near-horizontal coal seam very fast, so instead it moves sideways across, and eventually seeps out onto the cliff face.
The seeping water still has those minerals it dissolved in the soil. It also has more dissolved minerals from the coal it encountered too. Coal forms in swamps when trees and other plants fall into the waters and are buried before they can completely decompose. Decomposition is slow in stagnant swampy waters because most of the insects and microorganisms that do the decomposing usually need oxygen to help them with their work. Stagnant water does not circulate air very well and what little oxygen gets to the bottom of the swamp-water is used up pretty fast. You could say that conditions at the bottom of the swamp are anoxic (without oxygen), or reducing.
Iron in air will rust as it reacts with water and oxygen — rust is the red mineral hematite (Fe2O3) that you see on the walls of the quarry. Iron in a reducing environment, on the other hand, will form minerals like pyrite (FeS2). According to our guide, the thin coal seam in the quarry has a fair bit of pyrite. In fact, because of the pyrite, the coal has too much sulfur for it to be economical to burn. Like the landfill gas, hydrogen sulfide, burned sulfur turns into sulfur dioxide, which reacts with water droplets in the air to create acid rain so sulfur emissions are regulated.
The water that seeps along and through the coal seam will dissolve some of the pyrite, putting iron into solution. However, the iron will only stay dissolved as long as the water remains anoxic. As soon as the high-iron water is exposed to air, the iron will react with oxygen to create rust. Thus the long stains of rust on the cliff walls show where the water emerges from underground and drips down the cliff face.
Iron precipitate in other environments
We’ve seen the precipitation of iron (rust) as a result of changes in redox (oxidizing vs reducing) conditions before: on the sandbar on Deer Island in the Gulf of Mexico; in the slow streams along the Natchez Trace Park‘s hiking trails in Tennessee. Iron precipitation is an extremely common process in natural environments, and it’s easily noticeable. Just look for the red.
— Saul Bellow (1963). (via Butler, 2011in The Paris Review).
Bruce McAllister wrote 150 authors asking if they intentionally put symbolism in their writing. The year was 1963 and McAllister was 16 at the time. Sarah Butler has posted some of the 75 responses McAllister received.
The responses are quite facinating and quite diverse. One common theme, though, was well expressed in the answers to the question, “Do you feel you consciously plan and place symbolism in your writing?”
Ralph Ellison:
“Symbolism arises out of action and functions best in fiction when it does so. Once a writer is conscious of the implicit symbolisms which arise in the course of a narrative, he may take advantage of them and manipulate them consciously as a further resource of his art. Symbols which are imposed upon fiction from the outside tend to leave the reader dissatisfied by making him aware that something extraneous has been added.”