Fighting against a well armed military, the rebels in Syria have had to do a lot of improvisation. A basic knowledge of physics and chemistry has proven somewhat useful.
The Atlantic has a collection of photos of DIY (do it yourself) weapons, that includes catapults and sling-shots.
A rebel carries his home-made grenade. Youssef, 28 year old FSA fighter says: “my home made grenades, I am the only one in our Katiba able to build them, the guys like me for that, thats why I always carry them, for me and my comrades, its my mark and I want to leave one.”. Image by Sabastiano Piccolomini.
Sebastiano Tomada Piccolomini has a fascinating photo-essay in the New Republic showing the one item that members of one group of rebels considered as their most crucial weapon. These range from a radio, to a packet of cigarettes, to improvised grenades.
Finally, one of my students discovered that a cell phone and power-source from a computer can be made to look an awful lot like and improvised explosive device.
We are living in the future, but sometimes I wonder if it’s where we want to be.
Ice melts around an embedded leaf, taking the pattern of the leaf.
Darker colored objects absorb more light than lighter colored objects. Darker objects reflect less light; they have a lower albedo. So a deep brown leaf embedded in the ice will absorb more heat than the clear ice around it, warming up the leaf and melting the ice in contact with it. The result, is melting ice with shape and pattern of the leaf. It’s rather neat.
Looking into the narrow passageway that our guides called the "Birth Canal".
They took us into a sculpted, limestone cavern they called “Twins Cave”. The entrance was large, but, for those with the predilection, there were narrower passageways that required crawling, wiggling, and a definite lack of claustrophobia.
Apart from the wonderful speleotherms, the cave was home to some charismatic fauna.
An owl sits amid the stalactite formations near the roof of the cave.A salamander wanders the floor, picking its way through the limestone debris.
Though I did not capture any pictures of bats, they flew around us, and we found evidence of their presence just under the cloying red mud that covered most of the cave floor.
Much of the cave was floored with a sticky, red, residual clay, which, in places, covered deposits of bat guano.
The limestone precipitated cave formations were quite beautiful: fluted, cathedral-organ-like stalactites;
Fluted stalactites reminiscent of Gaudi.
thin, precise straws hanging from the ceiling:
Looking up at the crystal encrusted straws hanging from the ceiling.
The juxtaposition of the beauty above us and the mess beneath our feet brought into focus the idea that happiness is not an absolute thing, but rather comes from the difference between misery and joy.
Students take a break for journaling during our canoe trip on the Current River.
It was not all dark and stormy on our Outdoor Education canoe trip. The first afternoon was warm and bright; the first splashes of fall color spicing up the deep, textured greens of the lush, natural vegetation. It was so nice that, in the middle of the afternoon, we took a short break, just shy of half an hour, to reflect and journal.
A time an a place for reflection.
Our guides chose to park our boats at a beautiful bend in the river. Most of my students chose to sit in the canoes or on the sandy point-bar on the inside of the meander, but a few to be ferried across the river to a limestone cliff on the cut-bank of the curve. An enormous, flat-topped boulder had fallen into the water to make a wonderfully picturesque site for quiet reflection for two students. A third student chose to sit in a round alcove sculpted by the solution weathering of the carbonate rock itself.
A shady place to stop and think.
The cut-bank of a river’s meander tends to be deeper than the inside of the curve, because the water is forced to flow faster on the outside of the bend where it has more distance to travel. This proved to be quite convenient for my students, because it meant that the stream-bed around their boulder was deep enough that they could jump into the water after the hot work of writing while sitting in the sun. And they did.
A line of canoes float past limestone bluffs in the midst of a thunderstorm.
The middle school class has been reading The Tempest for language arts this semester. However, I had not quite realized that it was a presentiment of for our outdoor education canoeing trip. And not metaphorically — the group worked amazingly well together — but there really was a massive storm while we were out paddling on the Current River.
Weather map from Wednesday, September 26th, 2012.
On Wednesday morning, two hours before dawn, a cold front heading south from Canada met a warm front coming north out of the Gulf. They met and stalled, pushing waves of clouds and thunderstorms over us from the west.
The first wave hit while we were in our tents; the second during breakfast. One student recounted that his highest point of the trip was when he tasted his first pancake that morning. His lowest point was when the pancake was promptly soaked with rain.
The third wave met us while we were in our canoes.
Searing lightning, flashing across the ridges of the valley. Blinding white. Immediate thunder, roaring straight through the ears, reaching in, taking the breath, grabbing at the soul. Drenching rain — cold and hard — a deluge. One of our guides described it, afterwards, as a religious experience. I think I know what she meant.
Our guide (Ronnie) takes refuge under an overhang during the height of the downpour.
But the kids were awesome. Drenched, cold, and scared they paddled on. I was with a small group that was bringing up the rear. We were far enough behind that, for a long time, I could not tell how the students in the lead were responding. Especially when, at the height of the downpour, the lead group went around a bend in the river and out of our line of sight.
And there was a loud cheer.
I knew they were with our lead guide (Leah), whose skill and competence had already been demonstrated earlier in the day when one of the canoes had flipped. Yet, one always worries about how kids will react in stressful situations. Following the current around a gravel eyot, however, I heard a loud cheer. There was the line of canoes, pulled over waiting for us. There were the students, soaked and perhaps a little bit relieved, but with no panic in the cacophony of voices.
When everyone had caught up, we continued on. Eventually, we hit a landing and called an end to the canoeing. Although the rain had stopped it was still cold. So, a few students decided that since the river water was so cold, if they waited in the water, when they came out they’d feel warm. “I’m willing to deceive my body,” they said.
Waiting for the bus.
While we waited for the bus, we talked a little about what we’d been through. Despite the stress — or perhaps because of — there was lots of laughter and a growing sense of camaraderie. I took the chance to highlight some of the quieter voices, those students who tend not to complain or be too excitable, and who took the time to appreciate the beauty and uniqueness of what they’d been through.
While I would not have planned it that way, the storm, our tempest, forged bonds of common experience that will resonate with this group for years to come.
The first raindrops create tiny, concentric, waves that spread out and merge gently over space and time.
Notes
Infra-red satellite imagery from Wednesday, September 26th, 2012 shows the waves of thunderstorms passing over southern Missouri (yellow dot) very well.
I took a half-day trip during spring break (somewhere around the 31st) to the Shaw Nature Reserve in Gray Summit. I was hoping to find some books on native, Missouri, flora and fauna, and see if the Reserve would be a good place for a field trip (they have sleeping facilities so even overnight trips are a possibility).
I found a number of books, including a nice one on mushrooms, and while I could have, I did not pick up one on wildflowers (of which there were several). Of course, spring is the perfect time to see wildflowers, especially since we ended up hiking the Wildflower Trail, so I’m probably going to have to go back sometime soon.
The lady at the main office (where you pay $5/adult) recommended we take the Wildflower Trail and then cut down south to the sandbar on the Meramec River, which is an excellent place for skipping rocks. She also recommended I take my two kids to their outdoor “classroom” for some real, unstructured play.
Without a reference book, I’ve had to resort to the web for identifications, with only a little success, so I’ll post a few of my photographs here and update as I identify them.
The following two pictures are of a flower that was found covering the hillslope meadows; open areas with short grass.
Beautiful reddish-orange blooms on this small herb.This picture better captures the growth form and leaves of this hillslope, meadow flower.A yellow petalled variant.
Like little stars in the daylight, these small, white flowers meadow flowers almost sparkle.
Small, white, meadow flowers.
Pretty, small, yellow, meadow flowers.
Yellow, meadow flowers.
These bent-over flowers can be found on the lower, shadier edges of the hillslope meadows.
These guys like the shadier areas.I love the texture of the charred wooden stump behind the flower. The meadow itself is possibly the result of a burn.
Iris’ were also in bloom.
Small iris.
Another herbaceous, yellow flower.
Pretty yellow flowers.
More, tiny, delicate flowers.
Found in the shadier, moister parts of of the slope.
Once you get under the canopy, you run into some broader leaved plants and their own, interesting flowers.
Bell-shaped flowers in broad-leaved herbs/shrubs.
We ended up spending a lot of time on the sandbar, learning to skip rocks and hunting for clams, but I save that for another post. And we never did get to the play area; that’ll have to wait for the next trip.
