How cool? Ice Cold!

In every sense of the word, the information and interactions on the following link are 'cool'!!

Summer On Ice

So just a short post today - go check it out. It follows a few of the scientists who worked in the Antarctic over summer. Scott Base is now all set up for the winter season and I for one am looking forward to IceFest this year, which celebrates the opening of the new Antarctic Summer season and the first flight down since the beginning of March! For more info on that, check out this link:

NZ IceFest 2014

And an antartic picture to honour all this icey goodness

An upright icicle outside Scott Base, Ross Island in Antarctica, 2008

One Year To The Day

Just last week on the 7th March 2014 it was exactly one year to the day since I last stood in Svalbard.

The day after, 8th March 2014, I was a guest at my first wedding at Otamatea Marae (my ancestral marae, I have relatives buried in the cemetery!).

The wedding was excellent, good food, some dancing, and plenty of wonderful stories and traditions. But after being out under the hot, burny sun for an afternoon - which I enjoyed, dont get me wrong, my jandal tanline is under improvement - I was reminded of this time last year, when the sun that I had seen definitely had not felt at all warm, but was welcome none the less.

I spent something like 72 days without seeing the sun. It made me realise that our bodies are certainly linked in some way to sunrises and sunsets, the circadian rhythm running through our lives. But I dont want this post to be too reflective... Despite the sunshine reflecting off the ocean just outside, the cicadas singing their hearts out, and the smell of warm soil and plants growing...

This is going to be the story about my trip to see the sun return. I have blogged about this earlier (see Trip to See the Sun Shine)

To see the sun return in Svalbard, it requires hiking up a mountain, Trollstein (so named due to the large rock sitting atop it, kind of like a troll) on a particular day in February. I was to ski up, on borrowed cross country skis. Now, I was certainly still a beginner skier. I still am. It doesnt come naturally to me at all (Perhaps because my ancestors all kept their feet firmly planted either on the ground or deck of their wakas/ships).

The top of the mountain is in sight, with foggy cloud approaching...

But I made it most of the way, on my skis, without falling over. I took them off when I was close to the top as they started sliding backwards, and I didnt want to be skiing backwards down this mountainside!! Remember, I can barely ski forwards...

Taking them off and walking the last bit was great. Most of the town were also heading up the mountain to see the sun peek over the distant horizon and it was quite a communal occasion. At the top however, it was cold. Bitterly cold, that seeped through my gloves and I had to keep jumping about to keep warm! Further, it was cloudy.

That should have been a bit of a let down, getting to the top and seeing nought but clouds, but it wasnt. I had climbed a mountain (mostly in skis), which is certainly an achievement. And walking down, seeing the moody grey colour of the fjord surrounded by white snow, that was certainly something.

The view down Longyeardalen on the way back to town

This story doesnt have such a happy ending, no skiing off into the sunset or anything like that. I ended up incredibly sick with the flu, two days after, and spent my final two weeks either in bed, or trying to write my PhD.

However, it has meant that on a day such as this, with the sun beating down and vitamin D coursing through my veins, my PhD written and submitted, no skis in sight, I feel invincible!!

As for Writing Boot Camp though.... Eep I fell off the wagon! Ah well, better climb back on...

Being Concise

Lesson #3. Be concise. Make every word tell. Make your point well and once. Then Shut Up.

Okay, writing boot camp is getting hard. I would say I have ‘hit the wall’ like they do in marathons, but its only my third day so I cant have hit the wall. Yet. I want to write about that feeling at a later date, so cannot have it too soon! Today the lesson is about being concise. The first draft of this piece was not very concise. The second draft was a bit better. The third going over though, that really narrowed it down. However it meant that I had to write MUCH more than the 250/250 words each time! 

This task was quite difficult. One: I am very chatty, and no one can tell me to be quiet while I type (Actually I often get told to not hit the key board so hard. Cant they see I am furiously trying to concisely share my points!!). Two: I am not sure what point I am trying to get across.

And this is not ideal when trying to be concise.

Is there a better way to write that I wonder…

This is not ideal when being concise.

There, that took it from ten words to seven! Right now, I am not convinced that this post is going to meet the Lesson #3 objective however, as I am yet to come round to making a good point. How about this: Sometimes, writing is hard.

You write what you read - Boot Camp Day 2

Lesson #2 of writing boot camp states that "You become a better writer by reading. You become a better reader by writing" (http://ajjuliani.com/10-lessons-improve-your-writing/).

I was once told that what you read tells something about yourself. If anyone was to check through my library lending history they would be confused as to what was going on! Since handing in my thesis, I have been gorging on books. Books of all sorts! Particularly books on how to grow gardens, improve soil structure, companion planting, and no-dig gardens. But not only that - fantasy fiction. I am endeavouring to catch up on the latest popular stories, Game of Thrones, Divergent, and so on.

I find a real joy in reading. During my thesis I was very much not in the habit of reading though - all my efforts went into reading published scientific papers about flower colour, plant reproduction and floral pigments. But since handing in, there is this real freedom to read whatever I want! I have been reading classics (Lady Chatterly's Lover by D.H. Lawrence at the moment), various romance novels, fictional novels and lastly, cook books.

Oh how I love to read cook books!! The current cook book is "The Art of French Cooking" by Ginette Mathiot. And looking at the pictures, dreaming about making my very own brioche and petit fours is enough to entertain me for an entire afternoon! I was surprised actually, as the techniques that are explained in the beginning of the book are reasonably straight forward - French cooking so far seems to be just a series of steps, like all other cooking. And the end result looks so beautiful! (in the pictures of course, I havent tried any of the recipes yet). Next on the pile is 'A Taste of Persia'.

Im not sure how reading cook books will impact positively (or otherwise) upon my writing style. I do enjoy them regardless, and anyway, all reading must have some beneficial effects. Even if it shows what 'not to do'. Right?? Classic novels must be part of a good reading diet, however and the local library has a section of them so you know what they are.

Thinking of Classics, I found my copy of Wuthering Heights yesterday when I was unpacking some books. I have read it many times, but I enjoy it every time I turn the page! Something about the tortured love between Catherine and Heathcliff, out on the moors of old England... The Bronte sisters are excellent for moody, pained love that inspires thoughts of grey-purple, brooding romances. Love it. Lady Chatterly's Lover was quite different, likely due to being composed during quite a different time in societal history. I am definitely a fan of romance, but it took some time to understand what was meant by 'pressing up against each other till they reached a crisis'. Perhaps due to my upbringing in a different time of history and language, I read 'crisis' as something going quite wrong...


Now, boot camp states that I should be writing 250 words morning and evening, every day for ten days. I wonder if writing 500 words all at once is considered good form, or cheating the habit... 

Writing Boot Camp Day 1 - Telling a good story

Lesson #1 - Telling a good story.

This may be cheating - there wasnt any mention of it in the Boot Camp write up - but I am already stuck for ideas to write about so I thought I would write about this photograph.

I took this picture in March of 2012 during a trip up the Maungatua Mountains (just inland from Dunedin, South Island, New Zealand). It is the delicately veined, pale white petal, dark blue anthers and lime green stigma of Gentiana bellidifolia (it may be a different gentian species, but this is my best guess). A day in the life of this flower consists of waiting for the sun to come, bright rays pouring over the edge of the mountain, sparkling off the nearby tarn and slowly heating the closed flower. At a certain temperature (not sure what it is, but I watched a gentian open on the Remarkables near Queenstown after a night of snow) the petals unfurl, and the sun can shine in and gently heat the anthers and stigma. Insects will visit this flower, small flying ones, that cluster in the base either drinking nectar or basking in the warm sunshine. Maybe other crawling beasties will visit - and nibble away at the petals, something I imagine would taste like soft pancakes.

As the sun gets higher, then lower, the whole cycle of floral opening begins, but in reverse. The insects leave, the flower is sucked dry, and the petals begin to slowly furl up till closing time. In the night, little things scurry around, up and over the flower, ignoring the ripening seeds inside the closed petals. During the previous day, one, maybe two or three of the small flying insects brushed against the receptive stigma leaving a few grains of pollen stuck to the surface. That began the process of plant reproduction, and within a few days the ovary below the stigma will be dark purple and swollen with brand, new seeds.

I dont know if that is a good story. I like it but I have spent a large part of my life immersed in the study of plant sex, flower colour and reproduction!! It takes all types =)

Day One of Boot Camp - successfully completed. Feeling positive and optimistic about developing a writing habit!

Writing in my own style

Today I came across this blog thanks to the Thesis Whisperer (http://thesiswhisperer.com/)

http://ajjuliani.com/10-lessons-improve-your-writing/

And when I got to Lesson #6, I realised that one's own unique writing style comes about through practice. So, I have decided to begin my own 'Writer's Boot Camp'. I have often toyed with the idea of being a writer, thanks to the enjoyment I received from reading my own creative stories written in high school. But in the real world, writing requires a LOT of dedication (I should have realised this before flippantly beginning my PhD journey) and Step One of the 'Writer's Boot Camp' involves writing 250 words, morning and night, every day for ten days.

Right now, including those links I am at 112 words. And I am stuck already!! I am dying to check Facebook (the time thief), write an email (I havent written it thus far, why the need now??), and make sure I am up to date on all current events (in truth, I want to do the daily NZ Herald Quiz). I know that what I really should be doing is looking at the first draft of a scientific paper I want to publish in Polar Biology... But its a Saturday and I did work on it last night... Maybe one more look at those images, then I wont be torturing myself by writing words...

Lets face it, after three and a half years of 'writing' my thesis, I know all the tricks to avoid putting pen to paper! Or, in this day and age, fingers to keyboard.

There. I made it. That wasnt so hard...

Memories

Recently, I was asked to write a piece about my adventures in polar regions. At first, I thought "I dont go 'adventuring', I am a PhD student. My life consists of reading about experiments, conducting my own experiments, discovering my experiments didnt work, then going back to try and fix them".

Then I realised that the PhD journey is in itself a bit of an adventure - you set off, not sure where your going to end up (or if you are, you find out its not as straight-forward as it might have been), pack yourself a kit of published literature, background knowledge and ideas. You venture out into the world, only to find that you either overlooked packing some vital clue, or that the way forward is criss-crossed with difficulties. You hike up high mountains of achievement and enjoy the view before sliding into valleys of despair when the analysis goes wrong, or a reviewer doesnt like your paper.

And eventually (I hope, as this is the bit I am approaching), you climb out of the last misty years, sore muscles (from sitting and writing too long), weary mind, and with a real sense of having experienced the adventure. I hope I shall be better for it!

However, writing this piece made me realise that I certainly have not filled in this blog with adventure memories as yet! So here is one of my favourites:

The Polar Bear (Summer, 2011)

I was polar bear guard for a student cruise, and we had hiked along a beach to get to this fabulous field site covered in moss, lichens and other plants just below a bird cliff. As we were walking along the beach we came across three sets of bear tracks, and Mertensia maritima, a beautiful grey-purple flowered sandy beach plant. It is otherwise known as 'Oyster Plant'.

Mertensia maritima on the beach.

However, soon after the students settled to working, a thick fog descended. We discussed packing up and leaving as visibility was getting worse, but patches of blue sky above persuaded us to stay for another 5 mins and reassess the situation. About 2 mins after that decision, the bear guard near the beach called out the word; “Polar Bear. Im not kidding! Polar Bear!”

With that, we all gathered into a group, behind those of us with rifles and flare guns. Nervous silence and all I could see was the head of the bear, ears pricked, watching us. We fired a flare, and it turned and ran over the small dune and into the ocean. We packed up all our things and started a quick pace back to where the boat would pick us up – the fog also lifted. Keeping an eye on the bear which swam along the bay as we walked along the beach, we got to the pick up spot. 

The sun was bright overhead, the bear was just floating in the middle of the bay, and the group was being shuttled back to the ship. I will never forget the moment that happened then, watching through binoculars; the bear swam into shore, and walked up on the beach and shook itself, fat rippling down its shoulders, drops of water sparkling, fur shivering down its back! The bear looked to the right, then the left and it saw us and it NODDED, as if to say “Oh! There you are!”. 

Bear tracks on the beach.

It started walking towards us, but when it got to a certain point, we fired another flare and it turned tail and ran away up the glacier. I shall never forget that moment though when the bear nodded towards me - and blow me down, it looked just like the Northland Hello (when you nod your head upwards, slightly raise your eyebrows in greeting of the other person).