That adds up to about 6 swimming pools per year.
But what really has me feeling like a water hog
is how much (or little) of it per year I actually drink:
Oct 31, 2010
Water hog blues
Our household water meter counts around 5,500 gallons per month.
That adds up to about 6 swimming pools per year.
But what really has me feeling like a water hog
is how much (or little) of it per year I actually drink:
That adds up to about 6 swimming pools per year.
But what really has me feeling like a water hog
is how much (or little) of it per year I actually drink:
Oct 30, 2010
Swamps get scared too!
Are the swamps spooky?
To the uninitiated, “yes” –
And who could blame them, they are wooded, dark, and watery.
Alligators lurk, and panthers too – but those worries are misguided:
The animal you really have to watch out for are water moccasins.
Not that they chase you – they won’t!
Nor do they spook – they don’t!
Rather, it’s because they don’t spook when they hear you that causes the real fright. If you walk without caution in their path, you can expect a strike when you least expect it – and yes, that could bite.
There are giant spiders too!
But even worse is a trunk-to-trunk spanning web on your face (and in your hands as you try to remove it after the fact),
Is a spider there too, in my hair or crawling down my neck?
It rarely the case, but the thought certainly spooks!
Hollywood-inspired legends of a Swamp Thing and local lore of a Skunk Ape may have you fearing knee-deep cypress forests alone at night the same way Jaws kept you in the knee-deep shallows of breaking saltwater waves in a crowd at the beach with the sun at its peak.
The truth is that humans evolved to fear the swamps.
They are virtually uninhabitable by modern day standards, and efforts to inhabit them quite literally ruin whatever swamp was once there … by way of digging, draining, filling, cutting, and building;
Not to mention the real Frankensteins of the quagmire – Maleleuca trees, Brazilian Pepper, Old World Climbing Fern, pythons;
Plus every other invader on the rapidly-spreading list of non-native invasive species!
I’m here to tell you it’s not we who should fear the swamps.
They are a misunderstood beauty in need of love instead.
The truth in actuality is quite the opposite:
It’s the swamps that should fear us!
So tread lightly in a swamp near you, and trust in me whenever you do – by sun or night or nearing twilight – its liquid realm is a beautiful sight, from top to bottom and start to end, it’s silence is the comfort of your oldest friend.
Happy Halloween!
To the uninitiated, “yes” –
And who could blame them, they are wooded, dark, and watery.
Alligators lurk, and panthers too – but those worries are misguided:
The animal you really have to watch out for are water moccasins.
Not that they chase you – they won’t!
Nor do they spook – they don’t!
Rather, it’s because they don’t spook when they hear you that causes the real fright. If you walk without caution in their path, you can expect a strike when you least expect it – and yes, that could bite.
There are giant spiders too!
But even worse is a trunk-to-trunk spanning web on your face (and in your hands as you try to remove it after the fact),
Is a spider there too, in my hair or crawling down my neck?
It rarely the case, but the thought certainly spooks!
Hollywood-inspired legends of a Swamp Thing and local lore of a Skunk Ape may have you fearing knee-deep cypress forests alone at night the same way Jaws kept you in the knee-deep shallows of breaking saltwater waves in a crowd at the beach with the sun at its peak.
The truth is that humans evolved to fear the swamps.
They are virtually uninhabitable by modern day standards, and efforts to inhabit them quite literally ruin whatever swamp was once there … by way of digging, draining, filling, cutting, and building;
Not to mention the real Frankensteins of the quagmire – Maleleuca trees, Brazilian Pepper, Old World Climbing Fern, pythons;
Plus every other invader on the rapidly-spreading list of non-native invasive species!
I’m here to tell you it’s not we who should fear the swamps.
They are a misunderstood beauty in need of love instead.
The truth in actuality is quite the opposite:
It’s the swamps that should fear us!
So tread lightly in a swamp near you, and trust in me whenever you do – by sun or night or nearing twilight – its liquid realm is a beautiful sight, from top to bottom and start to end, it’s silence is the comfort of your oldest friend.
Happy Halloween!
Oct 29, 2010
Oct 28, 2010
Haunted hike?
Some trails are better walked in broad daylight.
Day: Strangler fig wrapped around a cypress.
Night: Hand of a giant ghoul squeezing an unsuspecting hiker.
Day: As scary as this tree is in broad daylight I don’t even want to think about what it looks like at night.
Night: See Day.
Day: Spiderwebs inconspicuously placed along the side of the trail.
Night: Giant banana spiders spin webs face high across middle of boardwalk.
Day: Do you see the shadows of giant cypress in the photo? They're the Ghost Trees of the Fakahatchee Past which, clear cut and logged in the 1940s, reappear at the marsh every Halloween for a swamp reunion. Apparently some get there early thus explaining the shadows.
Night: How would I know? – I high tailed it out of there while the sun was still up!
Day: Strangler fig wrapped around a cypress.
Night: Hand of a giant ghoul squeezing an unsuspecting hiker.
Day: As scary as this tree is in broad daylight I don’t even want to think about what it looks like at night.
Night: See Day.
Day: Spiderwebs inconspicuously placed along the side of the trail.
Night: Giant banana spiders spin webs face high across middle of boardwalk.
Day: Do you see the shadows of giant cypress in the photo? They're the Ghost Trees of the Fakahatchee Past which, clear cut and logged in the 1940s, reappear at the marsh every Halloween for a swamp reunion. Apparently some get there early thus explaining the shadows.
Night: How would I know? – I high tailed it out of there while the sun was still up!
.JPG)
Oct 27, 2010
Ghost of Okeechobee
The one constant on Lake Okeechobee is the only thing you can’t see,
Or in other words, evaporation.
Week after week it’s there, slow and steady and impossible to stop.
Inflows tend to be seasonal in nature, if also unpredictable. Fay did in two weeks (i.e., raise lake stage 4 feet) in what evaporation and structural releases took eight months to reverse. And that was fast! The winter recession following Fay was accelerated by the lack of any off-setting rains, and even worse, a need to release Lake water down the Caloosahatchee to stem off salt water intrusion.
Compare that to our past dry season. It was unusually wet. That meant that structural releases to balance the estuary weren’t needed. But eventually, as the rains continued, opening the gates to lower lake stage for the impending hurricane season was, raising alarm bells that the estuary would be thrown out of balance in the direction of being too fresh.
Of course those hurricanes never “appeared.”
But neither did evaporation, or at least you couldn’t see it:
Still, you can count on it to lower the Lake about 5 feet per year.
Or in other words, evaporation.
Week after week it’s there, slow and steady and impossible to stop.
Inflows tend to be seasonal in nature, if also unpredictable. Fay did in two weeks (i.e., raise lake stage 4 feet) in what evaporation and structural releases took eight months to reverse. And that was fast! The winter recession following Fay was accelerated by the lack of any off-setting rains, and even worse, a need to release Lake water down the Caloosahatchee to stem off salt water intrusion.
Compare that to our past dry season. It was unusually wet. That meant that structural releases to balance the estuary weren’t needed. But eventually, as the rains continued, opening the gates to lower lake stage for the impending hurricane season was, raising alarm bells that the estuary would be thrown out of balance in the direction of being too fresh.
 |
| Lake Okeechobee perimeter levee near Lakeport |
But neither did evaporation, or at least you couldn’t see it:
Still, you can count on it to lower the Lake about 5 feet per year.
Oct 26, 2010
Hauñted Waters
Have releases from the Lake ended for the year?
Baring a late season tropical storm, the new operational imperative will be to hold water back in the Lake in preparation for the rain-scarce La Niña dry season ahead. This year’s quiet fall is a stark contrast to five years ago in October 2005 when water was galloping down the Caloosahatchee at a record clip.
Around a million acre feet discharged through the S-79 and out to tide in the final two months of the 2005 calendar year. Compare that to around 1.4 million acre feet for the this year's full calendar year to date.
.jpg)
What’s hard to believe is that we’ve actually had active hurricane season.
The 2010 Hurricane Season only has four names left on the primary list, (see article). The last time that happened was 2005.
Of course locally it isn’t the number that matters, but the whimsy of their tracks.
“All it takes is one,” is the well worn phrase in hurricane country. But come dry season that ethos gets turned around on its head: “We missed our chance” everyone will be thinking instead.
Not that we can control any of it.
Evaporation, at just over 2 million acre feet per year, makes up the biggest slice of the Lake’s annual water pie. The Lake holds twice that (around 4 million acre feet) when full at 15 feet above sea level. That’s the level that the entire wetland inside the levee is flooded and which, incidentally, marked this year’s April/May high water peak.
The Lake’s been steadily declining ever since:
current stage is 13.6 feet above sea level.
Around a million acre feet discharged through the S-79 and out to tide in the final two months of the 2005 calendar year. Compare that to around 1.4 million acre feet for the this year's full calendar year to date.
.jpg)
What’s hard to believe is that we’ve actually had active hurricane season.
The 2010 Hurricane Season only has four names left on the primary list, (see article). The last time that happened was 2005.
Of course locally it isn’t the number that matters, but the whimsy of their tracks.
“All it takes is one,” is the well worn phrase in hurricane country. But come dry season that ethos gets turned around on its head: “We missed our chance” everyone will be thinking instead.
Not that we can control any of it.
Evaporation, at just over 2 million acre feet per year, makes up the biggest slice of the Lake’s annual water pie. The Lake holds twice that (around 4 million acre feet) when full at 15 feet above sea level. That’s the level that the entire wetland inside the levee is flooded and which, incidentally, marked this year’s April/May high water peak.
The Lake’s been steadily declining ever since:
current stage is 13.6 feet above sea level.
Oct 25, 2010
Ghosts of Canals Never Built
Sometimes the best part of a plan are the features that get left out.
The highlighted areas on the map show major water works of the Central & South Florida (C&SFL) Project that got left behind on the drawing room floor. That's a good thing. The result is undisturbed wetland where there would have been canals, levees, and water control structures instead.
The highlighted areas on the map show major water works of the Central & South Florida (C&SFL) Project that got left behind on the drawing room floor. That's a good thing. The result is undisturbed wetland where there would have been canals, levees, and water control structures instead.
- Who needs a pump station (S-L47) when Mullet Slough is perfectly capable of free flowing it into Water Conservation Area 3 all by itself?
- And who needs a S-329 and S-328 structures Lostmans, Middle, East, and Shark River Slough can handle the water instead?
Oct 24, 2010
Apple of the pine?
Do pineapples grow on pine trees?
As silly as that question sounds, supposedly the term pineapple used to describe this fruit originates from its striking resemblance to the pine cone.
As silly as that question sounds, supposedly the term pineapple used to describe this fruit originates from its striking resemblance to the pine cone.
Oct 23, 2010
Bromeliad Express?
Do Florida rains come in the form of a Pineapple Express?
Last year about this time there was a story in the Tampa Bay Tribune which quoted a meteorologist describing how two atmospheric forces – one a pineapple express to the west and another a high pressure system up near Greenland – were balancing each other out …
But in two weeks the former would "win out" and at long last we’d get rain.
As notoriously iffy as extended forecasts are even just their fifth day out, calling rain a full two weeks in the future, and so assuredly so, caught my eye as pure folly if not even on the verge of irresponsibility -- we where in throes of a drought-stricken early fall.
“The media loves terms like that,” another meteorologist told me.
“But is it true?” I asked.
He encouraged me to think broadly in terms of the atmospheric stew. “When there’s moisture in the Pacific like that pulsing east and the southern track of the Jet Stream is in play, plus a frontal boundary moving through. That’s as sure a recipe as there is for winter rain in Florida.”
Sure enough, two weeks later, the rain came –
But was it a Pineapple Express?
Last year about this time there was a story in the Tampa Bay Tribune which quoted a meteorologist describing how two atmospheric forces – one a pineapple express to the west and another a high pressure system up near Greenland – were balancing each other out …
But in two weeks the former would "win out" and at long last we’d get rain.
As notoriously iffy as extended forecasts are even just their fifth day out, calling rain a full two weeks in the future, and so assuredly so, caught my eye as pure folly if not even on the verge of irresponsibility -- we where in throes of a drought-stricken early fall.
“The media loves terms like that,” another meteorologist told me.
“But is it true?” I asked.
He encouraged me to think broadly in terms of the atmospheric stew. “When there’s moisture in the Pacific like that pulsing east and the southern track of the Jet Stream is in play, plus a frontal boundary moving through. That’s as sure a recipe as there is for winter rain in Florida.”
Sure enough, two weeks later, the rain came –
But was it a Pineapple Express?
Oct 22, 2010
"Swamp mile" formally defined
Sometimes you have to walk a "swamp mile"
to find deep water.
Not in this case:
to find deep water.
Not in this case:
.jpg)
Oct 21, 2010
Swamp valleys ... or hills?
You won’t notice them until about 10 miles in from the Tamiami entrance.
Up close you'll see they have signs.
But from a distance they resemble a ridge line of hills.
In actuality they are more like shallow valley.
It’s where water flows first, most …
And last.
Where do they flow to?
In the case of New River Strand, here:
Up close you'll see they have signs.
But from a distance they resemble a ridge line of hills.
In actuality they are more like shallow valley.
It’s where water flows first, most …
And last.
Where do they flow to?
In the case of New River Strand, here:
Oct 20, 2010
La Niña Winter
What's in store for the winter?
The swing and strengthening of the ENSO signal to the La Niña side of the spectrum has forecasters calling for a “warmer and dryer” than normal winter throughout the southeast.
ENSO is a particularly strong predictor of winter rainfall in south Florida. What's unpredictable is how high or long the signal will stay in either direction, or what lag effects may be in play.
Other parts of the country it will be colder and wetter as a result. This article and the map below paint the broader picture.
The past two dry seasons in south Florida have been notable in their extremes:
Here’s two photos from the same spot along Tamiami Trail
that showcase the difference:
The swing and strengthening of the ENSO signal to the La Niña side of the spectrum has forecasters calling for a “warmer and dryer” than normal winter throughout the southeast.
ENSO is a particularly strong predictor of winter rainfall in south Florida. What's unpredictable is how high or long the signal will stay in either direction, or what lag effects may be in play.
Other parts of the country it will be colder and wetter as a result. This article and the map below paint the broader picture.
The past two dry seasons in south Florida have been notable in their extremes:
- Nov08 to Apr09 was especially dry (a La Niña) and
- Nov09 to April10 was especially wet (an El Niño).
Here’s two photos from the same spot along Tamiami Trail
that showcase the difference:
Oct 19, 2010
Everglades "lamp posts" of light
When is too much not enough?
Hydrologic data collection in the Everglades comes to mind.
Part of the problem is that the Everglades are so big.
That means for every lamp post of light that we have data for there are "city block after city block" of pure darkness that we grope through with lanterns as best we can.
Hydrologic data collection in the Everglades comes to mind.
Part of the problem is that the Everglades are so big.
That means for every lamp post of light that we have data for there are "city block after city block" of pure darkness that we grope through with lanterns as best we can.
Oct 18, 2010
Florida's only fall-less spot?
The panhandle (Tallahassee)
and upper peninsula (Gainesville) are “in” …
But Orlando on south is “still waiting.”
Not that the weather hasn’t been pleasant. It has. The mid day sun here in Naples has reliably dropped out of the 90s and nighttime lows are no longer hovering in the sultry 70s. But it won’t be officially fall – as defined by Morton D. Winsberg’s in his meteorological masterpiece Florida Weather – until average nighttime lows go down the additional step and into the 50s° (i.e., below 60° F).
On average that happens in early November for Orlando, late November for Naples, mid December for Miami …
And never for Key West.
Talk about getting “left out in the warm!”
Does that make the keys Florida’s only fall-less spot?
Answer:
and upper peninsula (Gainesville) are “in” …
But Orlando on south is “still waiting.”
Not that the weather hasn’t been pleasant. It has. The mid day sun here in Naples has reliably dropped out of the 90s and nighttime lows are no longer hovering in the sultry 70s. But it won’t be officially fall – as defined by Morton D. Winsberg’s in his meteorological masterpiece Florida Weather – until average nighttime lows go down the additional step and into the 50s° (i.e., below 60° F).
On average that happens in early November for Orlando, late November for Naples, mid December for Miami …
And never for Key West.
Talk about getting “left out in the warm!”
Does that make the keys Florida’s only fall-less spot?
Answer:
Oct 17, 2010
Prehistoric boardwalk
Cypress needles are falling
onto a boardwalk in need of repair.
Fakahatchee Strand's Big Cypress Bend boardwalk is getting old.
The Friends of Fakahatchee are working to make it new again. Click here to learn how you can lend a hand, or here.
Here's a video that explains more:
onto a boardwalk in need of repair.
Fakahatchee Strand's Big Cypress Bend boardwalk is getting old.
The Friends of Fakahatchee are working to make it new again. Click here to learn how you can lend a hand, or here.
 |
| Entrance to boardwalk |
Oct 16, 2010
Twenty year flood?
What does a hydrologist do when all the blue ink is gone?
That’s a good time to check in with the Red River, the Everglades of the Dakotas.
As I mentioned last week,
a meteorologist there introduced me to the saying:
“All droughts end in flood.”
But in looking at the Red River hydrograph I am struck by how drought seems to have all but vanished in the past two decades. The hydrograph above is divided in two: the two-decade period from 1970 to 1990 on the left and the most recent twenty years (1991-2010) on the right. Over 2.5 million acre feet discharged passed Fargo last year whereas in the 1970s and 1980s annual totals of under a half million acre feet were the norm.
What’s going on?
That’s a good time to check in with the Red River, the Everglades of the Dakotas.
As I mentioned last week,
a meteorologist there introduced me to the saying:
“All droughts end in flood.”
But in looking at the Red River hydrograph I am struck by how drought seems to have all but vanished in the past two decades. The hydrograph above is divided in two: the two-decade period from 1970 to 1990 on the left and the most recent twenty years (1991-2010) on the right. Over 2.5 million acre feet discharged passed Fargo last year whereas in the 1970s and 1980s annual totals of under a half million acre feet were the norm.
What’s going on?
Oct 15, 2010
No man is a pine island
This is the time of year that pine islands
start expanding into "peninsulas" as the water recedes.
Here's a short narrated video that explains it:
start expanding into "peninsulas" as the water recedes.
Here's a short narrated video that explains it:
Oct 14, 2010
Global river rise?
We already know that global warming causes sea levels to rise …
The new news is that it increases river flow too.
A new study reports that, globally, annual fresh-water flow has increased 18% from 1994 to 2006. The primary cause is not melting of land glaciers or permafrost, but rather what is describe as “intensification” of the water cycle; or in other words, more evaporation and more rainfall.
Not surprisingly, the 18% increase is quantified in standard scientific units, or about 540 cubic kilometers worth of new water. Not being much of a metric hound, that number pulled me in as much as it left me out, leaving me to ponder:
“How much would it be in more Florida-friendly units?”
The new news is that it increases river flow too.
 |
| La Meuse as seen in Liege, Belgium |
Not surprisingly, the 18% increase is quantified in standard scientific units, or about 540 cubic kilometers worth of new water. Not being much of a metric hound, that number pulled me in as much as it left me out, leaving me to ponder:
“How much would it be in more Florida-friendly units?”
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