The mighty mongoose and its brush with extinction

By Miika Silfverberg (MiikaS) from Vantaa, Finland (Flickr

Because I felt I didn't have enough brushes, this little guy's life hung in the balance. In my search to refresh my well worn collection of synthetic mongoose brushes (Monarch) (Princeton 6600).  It occurred to me that if I liked the synthetics so much, maybe the real thing would be even better. Natural, organic, traditional, like the old masters used in their ateliers, probably made in an ancient European workshop by a one of the last few craftspeople who know how to roll the hairs precisely into the ferrule. I looked them up and was surprised that they weren't much more expensive than synthetics, now losing their appeal. After all, synthetic just a fancy name for plastic–-artificial, factory made, so practical.

But then a thought burrowed into my conscience like a mongoose chasing a cobra. "How do you think they get the mongoose hair from the mongoose into your precious brushes?" So I did what anyone would do, I googled it. And found they were endangered, cruelly dispatched, and more in need of their fur than I was.

So, little mongoose, run free
it's synthetic mongoose for me,
Chase the cobra and the weasel,

I don't need the guilt when I stand at my easel.

Oh entomology, where is thy sting?

So this is my first attempt at entomological illustration, and I think I'm hooked. I'm just debating on whether I should invest in a basic compound dissecting microscope. It's awfully tempting, since it would open up a whole new world of visual exploration. But on the other hand I can't keep up with what I can already see! I guess I'll try a few more specimens and see how it goes....

click for sharper version

This little study is one I did years ago, and even after my microscopic study of the hornet, I think it stands up pretty well. Well, not exactly stands, I didn't know the technique of relaxing and pinning the specimen back then, but he curls up nicely anyway...

I'm starting to organize the art team for this year's Bioblitz on Jamestown, where there will be tons of creepy crawly things to draw. Maybe I can bum some surplus bugs to bring home and draw. If not, my windowsill is a good place to find insects who have met their maker.

Saving the Bay

The Rip, oil/canvas, 30"x40"    Artists for Save the Bay 2011

I guess if I've been blogging so long that bloggable items can become yearly events I can afford to be lazy and repeat a 2010 entry, with just some updating for 2011. Because, after all, this Save the Bay entry was a classic...

Every year Save the Bay holds an art exhibit of work inspired by Narragansett Bay. And every year I go in search for all the waterfront paintings I've done over the summer.  Since I live on a peninsula surrounded by saltmarshes, jetties and coves filled with swans, egrets and ducks and gorgeous sunsets there are endless subjects to paint and where the heck are all those paintings I did? Oh yeah, the same place my time to paint was—hard to find.  But I love being in the show and this year I did manage to submit two one pieces and have them it accepted. 

Unfortunately for us wine&cheese freeloaders, the reception is also a fundraiser for Save the Bay and tickets to the opening are $25. a pop. I found that out last two years ago when I blithely headed to STB headquarters with friends in tow. Only after seeing the ticket booth at the door did I realize that the crowd was decidedly better dressed than the motley artists who usually gather around the cheese trays (by which I mean us). But it IS an excellent cause, so if $25. is in your budget, you can enjoy an evening of drinks, good munchies and some very engaging paintings. Not to mention a great night-time view down the bay through the expansive windows and a rare sight — people with their checkbooks out, buying art!

I get to go free this year since I have work in the show (I can't make the opening this year, it's my last glass casting class, unfortunately on both counts), but everyone can visit (minus wine&cheese and entry fee) from Nov. 18-Dec. 27, Mon. to Fri. 8:30 – 4:30 at the Save the Bay center. 

Opening Reception: Thursday, November 17, 2011
5:30 - 8:00 p.m.
Save The Bay Center, Providence  Directions.
$25 includes drinks and hors d'oeuvres
Purchase tickets now.
The exhibit runs November 17 - December 27 and showcases Bay-themed painting, photography, sculpture and jewelry from artists across Rhode Island and Massachusetts. 50% of the proceeds benefit Save The Bay programs. More info.

Girdwood

My digs in Girdwood. I have another post written but blogpress won't let me upload it, so maybe I'll have better luck with this one.

Un-Rejected! Alaska here I come!

I've been wanting to write this post for a week, but I've almost been afraid to talk about it, because it's just such an amazing turn of events and rather daunting. But remember how I've been applying for years to get an artist residency in Denali National Park in Alaska and came tantalizingly close but ultimately was rejected? And remember how I discovered a new one this year in the Ford's Terror Wilderness in the Tongass National Forest near Juneau and was rejected from that one as well? You don't? Well what luck, there's links! But seriously, a few weeks after getting a rejection letter from Tongass, while on the Bioblitz, I got a phone call from the ranger in charge of the program saying she had transferred to Prince William Sound (just south of Anchorage) and wanted to start up another program there, and ASKED ME TO BE THEIR FIRST ARTIST-IN-RESIDENCE! 

 

This residency is similar to the Tongass program  but will start out in Girdwood, AK (above) in August, where I and a Ranger from the National Forest Service will gear up for a 7-day tour of Prince William Sound, traveling by sea kayak and camping next to glaciers. The list of gear they sent me goes to 2-pages and includes wool sweaters, Xtratuf boots, waterproof pants, jacket, gloves and camera case. Did I mention it was kind of daunting? Did I mention I've only been in a kayak (and not the sea kind) a couple of times? Did I mention that I've only been camping twice in recent memory, and both times in the congenial society of the Bioblitz? Did I mention I just had knee surgery? Well, I certainly didn't bring any of that up in my application! But at least I'm grateful I've been hitting the gym pretty regular-like since January (one of those rare resolutions that stuck), and I'm going to take a sea-kayak lesson soon, and they do say "Extensive backcountry/kayaking experience is not necessary for this residency, just capability". I do think I will be capable of doing anything they tell me to, as long as they have the expertise, and you don't find much better expertise than the National Forest Service Rangers! I'll find out more about it when the ranger who will be in charge of me gets back from "the field" next week. I'll need to spend a few days in Anchorage too, so if anyone has recommendations on cheap but decent hotels I could use some!

In all my residencies I've really enjoyed interacting with the rangers and have respected their knowledge of the environments they work in and their efforts to preserve it, dealing with so many issues that the public isn't even aware of most of the time, but this is the first time I will actually spent the entire residency working so closely with them. I can't believe what a great opportunity this is!

Oh yeah, and I'm going to do some art too.

Back from Bioblitz 2011

 

Dateline June 10-11, Scituate, RI

I'm happy to report that the Rhode Island Natural History Survey Bioblitz 2011 Art Team  (or, as we affectionately call it - RINHSB2011AT) was a huge success. Thanks go out to Katy Dika from the RISD Nature Lab for bringing fabulous microscopes and art supplies for our fans to use. Young students Central Falls High School were inspired by watching artists Francis Topping and Katie Bertsche, natural science illustrators, and sat down with colored pencils to produce some impressive work themselves in the dry shelter of the tent. That's right, we woke up to the sound of rain hitting the tent again this year, but didn't, as they say, dampen the enthusiasm.

Students from Central Falls High School

We had a great and diverse group of about a dozen official Bioblitz artists, the aforementioned natural science illustrators, painters, printmakers, photographers and textile artists.The interaction with the naturalists was fantastic (they are so happy to share their extensive knowledge, and many naturalists are not too shabby in the art department themselves).

The first day was dry and gave all the opportunity to spread out, join teams and explore. Since I'm still in rehab for my sore knee, I headed a short distance to draw in the silent pine grove I had explored earlier. It was silent no longer though, the sounds of discovery rang out through the woods on every side. I started a pastel drawing of lichen (ashamed to say I don't know the species or genus) covered tree and was once again humbled in the face of nature.

The woods grew darker as the rainy front came in so I headed over to Science Central where they were serving a great al fresco meal. Specimens were trickling in: bugs were being pinned, buckets held little slimy things, feathers and mosses were arranged like still lives on the tables.

After dinner I gave a talk and slideshow to the artists and other interested folks on the Artist In Residence Program in the National Parks and my experiences with it. (I have great news about a new residency for my next blog post!!)  I posted the photos from the slideshow on Flikr and you can see them here without all my gabbing.

Then it was on to more exploration. As darkness fell we were treated to an incredible display of fireflies in all directions. I headed off through a long field with flashing lights dancing over the grass to find the bat team. I could dimly make out a rim of trees on the horizon so headed that way. Someone must have heard my footsteps because a flashlight shone out for a second. I headed towards it. As I got closer I heard voices so I called out "Are you the Bat People?" Sure enough, I had found them. We sat on fallen logs chatting while waiting to check the traps, which looked like volley-ball nets, but deeper and finer. Bats can sense the nets with their radar but often are careless or on the chase so do get caught. But not tonight. We brought in the traps and headed back with a detour to see the Moth People, who had much better luck with their spotlit white sheets.

By this time my knee was achy so I headed for the tent but before I could settle in I heard of a chance to join an owl walk. Too bad the owls didn't hear the invite, although our ipod was hooting in their lingo. Owls were heard earlier though, so we know they were in the area.

Kathy Hodge gives a presentation on the National Park Artist in Residence Program. Photo/Mary Grady

We finally turned in, falling asleep to the voices of the untiring naturalists still bringing specimens back to Science Central, which is where I spent the the next day resting my knee. But that's not to say I missed anything, there were all sorts of fascinating things to look at through the microscopes, things that we pass every time we are in any area with a minimal amount of nature.  Bees that shimmered like Christmas trees, lichen and moss like fairy tale worlds. In the other tent moths were being pinned in neat rows, crawfish and salamanders trying to crawl out of trays, and beetles and spiders were lining up for inspection. A student was carefully guarding a little white footed mouse huddling in the corner of a live trap, waiting for the Mammal Guy to come in from the field to document it before setting it free.

Fiber artist Ann Lilley works with children in making prints from natural textures. Photo/Mary Grady.

Frances Topping works from specimens. Photo/Mary Grady.

Meanwhile, the art team was painting and printing the pastoral view from the tent and from gathered specimens, and all were learning from each other till the whistle went off at 3pm to signal the end of Bioblitz 2011. Even though I ended up with soaked camping equipment, sleep deprivation, an aching knee, no artwork to speak of, and what looked like the remnants of a turkey massacre in the back of my truck I had only one thought. Wait'll next year!

RINHS Facebook page

Bioblitz Art Team Facebook Page

My photos from Bioblitz

Mary Grady's (Art Team Leader Emeritus) photos 

Mary Grady's story on ECO RI

A video of the event from projo.com

Bioblitz 2010 on Block Island 

Supermoon

 

Funny, in my two weeks of unexpected time off work with my knee surgery I somehow didn't have the urge to blog much. Was it the lack of coffee shop sitting? The possibility of doing things in three dimensions? Maybe, but I think the real reason was that I didn't find the need to toss out my little messages-in-a-bottle from my upholstered island of a cubicle. I was rowing my own humble boat, bad knee and all... Now I'm back, all too soon, and am scribbling another message by the light of buzzing fluorescents. 

The horseshoe crabs have finished their debauch, leaving the casualties belly up on the shore. I brought a recently expired one back to my house, but not before putting it in the water for a bit and pulling on its legs to make sure it was really dead. I set it up on a low table in my backyard (a dead horseshoe crab is not something that you want indoors) and started a drawing of it. A storm was coming up so I left it to finish the next day but when I went out to finish it, it was gone. After a short search I found it under a bush, legs eaten off. According to google, both raccoons and fox eat horseshoe crabs, and we have both. My husband was kind enough to fetch another one for me, but the drawing never really amounted to much. Hopefully the studying of HC anatomy will help when one inevitably appears in a painting.

It was only at the end of my leave that I could stand for a decent amount of time, but I did manage to finish this painting. It's called Supermoon. Tomorrow I'm off for my second Bioblitz, this time I'm in charge of the art team. Should be interesting (and hopefully not as rainy as last year!)

Here I sit, broken and rejected.

Ok...repaired and rejected. My torn menicus (go ahead, ask me about knee anatomy) has been neatened up and my knee should be unwrapped and crutches tossed aside soon, but I'm still not going to Juneau Alaska this year to climb glaciers and hang out with the rangers as artist in residence. I know, I've already got the AIR in Petrified National Forest this September, but now I'm getting greedy and want TWO residencies a year. And the Tongass National Forest residency sounded really awesome.

But there's always next year to try again, and my rejection letter was one of the more thoughtful ones I've received. It actually referred specifically to my application, which feels better than the generic rejections that tell "Dear  artist " how tough the decision was and how many wonderful artists applied. So I will try again, even though I already have an application in for 2012 at Grand Canyon National Park. But I can do two a year, can't I?


So, I can concentrate on looking forward to the incredible color and cool rock formations of the Painted Desert even though September seems so far away. As any New Englander knows though, our precious summer goes by in a flash, and while I wait to go to Arizona I'm gearing up for a more local exploration at the Rhode Island Natural History Survey's Bioblitz. We've got a great response from artists of all media, and are teaming up with RISD's nature lab to offer things like microscopes and flower presses just for the artists, as well as expertise in specimen gathering. We also have some members of RISDs natural science illustration program, so it should be very interesting to meet this year's team. And next year we have an exhibit scheduled at the Warwick Art Museum to showcase the work of the 2011 Bioblitz artists. 

Once I can stand at my easel again I'm close to finishing some paintings I've been working on in the studio as part of my next series which I hope to post soon. Until then, I may just hobble into my backyard to take advantage of the first dry spring day we've had in about 2 weeks and do a little "plane ear" painting.

The answer was... a phone call!

Looks like I'll be hiking in the desert later this summer! I came into work the day after I wrote the last post to find a message on my phone telling me I had been chosen as one of the artists-in-residence in the Petrified National Forest in Arizona!

In 2004 my husband and I made the typical tourist stop at the park while exploring the southwest. We had just enough time to check out some petrified logs, petroglyphs and the incredible painted desert before being chased off the joint by an aggressive dust devil.  This time I'll get to live for two weeks in one of these lovely adobe houses near the historic Painted Desert Inn, which has not functioned as an inn since the 70's, but is open to the public and is a fascinating historic building. 

I'm hoping to post journal entries daily from the park, since I believe I can get internet access but I don't know that my journal can compete with the one I discovered by a previous artist in residence, June Underwood. So thank you June for giving me a glimpse of what I can anticipate during my weeks there.

Now I'm only waiting to hear from the other residency I've applied for in the Ford's Terror Wilderness area of the Tongass National Forest in Juneau, Alaska. I usually don't attempt two residencies in a summer but this one sounds too cool to resist. The artist actually travels into the wilderness, via kayak, small boat or even sea plane with a ranger for 10 days, then pitches camp on a glacier. So wish me luck on that one too, I should know in a week or two!

How I would like to spend my summer vacation

Will I be hiking over a glacier, or over hot desert sand this summer? Or both? Or just over the same little streets of Providence? And when will I know? Will I get an email, a phone call, or an envelope in my mailbox? These are the questions I think of as I look out my grimy work window to the wall of buildings across the street,  grateful for the little sliver of sky I can see.

I've applied for two residencies this summer, both should be letting me know any day now.  In the meantime I've been organizing an artist team to explore a little piece of our very own environment. The area we are exploring is not the vast open space of the west, but a little plot of land near the reservoir—from the birds in the sky to the microscopic, bugs and fungus, leaves and amphibians. For the second year, artists are joining the Natural History Survey's Bioblitz. It's a great reminder that you don't have to travel great distances to be awed by nature. There are amazing things going on, literally, in your own backyard. If you think that sounds cool, check out the facebook page and join us!

A good day for frogs.

 

Frogs-in-progress caught during last summer's Bioblitz.

Artists for Save The Bay

Every year Save the Bay holds an art exhibit of work inspired by Narragansett Bay. And every year I go in search for all the waterfront paintings I've done over the summer.  Since I live on a peninsula surrounded by saltmarshes, jetties and coves filled with swans, egrets and ducks and gorgeous sunsets there are endless subjects to paint and where the heck are all those paintings I did? Oh yeah, the same place my time to paint was—hard to find.  But I love being in the show and this year I did manage to submit two pieces and have them accepted. Yea! (click on the invite, and then my name, to see the work).

Unfortunately for us wine&cheese freeloaders, the reception is also a fundraiser for Save the Bay and tickets to the opening are $25. a pop. I found that out last year when I blithely headed to STB headquarters with friends in tow. Only after seeing the ticket booth at the door did I realize that the crowd was decidedly better dressed than the motley artists who usually gather around the cheese trays (by which I mean us). But it IS an excellent cause, so if $25. is in your budget, you can enjoy an evening of drinks, good munchies and some very engaging paintings. Not to mention a great night-time view down the bay through the expansive windows and a rare sight — people with their checkbooks out, buying art!

I get to go free this year since I have work in the show, but everyone can visit (minus wine&cheese and entry fee) from Nov. 19-Dec. 28, Mon. to Fri. 8:30 – 4:30 at the Save the Bay center. (directions)

It was a little hard to adjust to life back on the mainland after spending a weekend on Block Island for the BioBlitz show at Island Gallery, especially when we had Kira Stillwell from the Rhode Island Natural History Society (foreground),  Kim Gaffett of the Ocean View Foundation and Cindy Kelly of the Island Gallery  providing accommodations for ourselves and our artwork that were well beyond our expectations.

The show looked great, and as you can see, was well received, especially by Kira's daughter Brin. I've gotten compliments on my paintings at openings, but this was the first time someone felt moved to kiss one. (The lucky painting was not inspired by the BioBlitz, but a day trip to Mohegan Bluffs 17 years ago.)

The other painting I brought was of the trip I took with Captain Feather and his crew in the pouring rain off the north end of the island on the second day of BioBlitz.

The weekend got me psyched and now that we've practiced with the first exhibit, we're hatching plans for a longer and more publicized version for the next one. Stay tuned!

Photos from the weekend can be seen here and here.

More on bioblitz from my blog, and the website.

What are YOU looking at?

Nothing says "What the hell are all these people doing?" better than this guy's expression. But all he could do was glower at us since he was tethered to his perch. Even if he wasn't, he can't fly. He was one of a group of birds who had been rescued after having been shot or hit by cars. Their lives were saved, but the vet had to break the news as gently as he could "You will never fly again".  They don't understand English though, so the Red Hawk made a break for it, getting loose from his tether and leading the Audubon handlers on a chase through the bushes.

I had a chance to photograph these birds relatively closely as part of "Raptor Weekend" at the Powder Mill Ledges Wildlife Refuge.
I went to get reference photos for my next series of paintings since I'm interested in owls, especially screech owls, which hang around my house. Screech owls always look to me like they just rolled out of bed, and the one they brought out was molting, so was even more disheveled looking than usual.

I somehow knew I'd be out-cameraed by the "real photographers", and I certainly was with my little G9 point and shoot and no tripod. But I got some great photos anyway.

Oil spill, what oil spill?

oil/canvas  24"x30"  copyright 2010 Kathy Hodge

This painting, I swear, was well along BEFORE the BP oil spill, but now that it's done, the associations are inevitable. A premonition? I hope not, or I'm going to have to be careful what I paint. This is actually taken from the beach in Riverside during a blustery bronze sunset, the fish was found on the beach on the cape. It's part of a new series I'm working on placing creatures in uncomfortable environments.

But it raises an interesting question. If an "Artists Respond to the Gulf Oil Spill" exhibit takes place (and they have - here & here) could I enter it? I've already had people assume it's about the oil spill, so they could be right. Time for me to bow out on this one.

BP says the oil's all gone anyway, so nevermind.

Oil painting

My kitten post didn't send my web stats through the roof like I thought (feared) it would. And here I thought everyone loved kittens! Maybe baby squirrels? No. . .  I'll have to think of another way to increase my stats, and go back to posting paintings.

The World Prodigy -  o/c

While we wait for the BP oil well to be finally plugged, I'll offer an older painting of The World Prodigy which ran aground in 1989, spilling hundreds of thousands of barrels of oil into Narraganset Bay and polluting a stretch of the RI coast.  At the time I wasn't trying to make an environmental statement with the choice of subject, but in 1989 I was painting the working waterfront and the tankers and ships which unloaded at the Providence docks. I think I just wanted to capture the drama of the island of light and activity in the dark sea.

Luckily for R.I. the coastline has recovered. Not all victims of spills are as lucky. The impact of another spill which took place 20 years ago, the Exxon Valdez, is still felt and remembered by Alaskan artists.  I fear that will be the case for the people of the Gulf as well.

Torrential rain drumming on taut nylon is actually louder than thunder, in case you were wondering. I, on the other hand, was wondering if the tent was as waterproof as advertised. And if lightening were to hit a nearby tree, would it travel through the ground and if so, would an air mattress be any insulation. Also I was wondering if the storm would ever pass. After what seemed like two hours of wave after wave of downpour, it tapered off to an occasional splatter of drips when the wind jostled the tree above us.

Maybe now I could drift off....until, a half hour later (repeat the first paragraph).

After the second storm passed I spent about 15 minutes trying to convince myself that I didn't have to visit the outhouse, but bladders never listen. I slipped out of the tent and was surprised to find we were not underwater, just wet. On the trail to the outhouse I met a fellow bioblitzer who asked me cheerfully if I was coming to check for specimens on the the shore. It was pitch black. The hour was ungodly. That's when I knew I was surrounded by insane people. Of the best kind.

I was finally able to catch a few hours sleep before my ipod alarm went off at 6:30. The night before I had arranged to abandon the frog hunt and instead tag along on a small fishing boat to find bio-stuff off the shore to add to our species count. I volunteered to deliver the crew (Mary and Grace, left)
to Captain Feather's boat. I dressed as quietly as possible, trying to avoid stepping on the floor, which had turned into a rectangular water balloon (first lesson in tent camping, set up your tarp so the water stays on the earth side, not the tent side) and headed down the ClayheadTrail to my truck, then drove back to Science Central for coffee and excellent bagels before heading for New Harbor. There we met Christian and his 11 year old daughter Stephanie, and after another coffee run to make sure our crew was fully caffeinated, we boarded Captain Feather's boat.

That's not to imply that the rain had stopped, but it looked really pretty on the swells.


I spent the next few hours trying to stay out of the way of the crew, fishing rods, flying fish hooks, crabby pinchers, sharks (ok, a little dogfish) and ferocious saber toothed bluefish. I also tried some sketching, but you know what? It doesn't take long for a drawing pad to become fully saturated on a boat in the rain.


Everybody on the boat was excellent at catching stuff, except me, who just watched. Some of the catch would be taken back to the Blitz, some was set free, and some, I fear, was bound to end up on someone's dinner table.


After catching sea bass, dogfish, bluefish and a skate, Feather then took us on a roller coaster ride at 20-knots over the swells and back into New Harbor where they checked traps, chucking dozens of ugly spider crabs back into the ocean. The 2 lobsters were allowed to stay on board.


Back in the harbor we picked a few more passengers, because there was plenty of room for 2 little girls and me in the cab and four adults, a big dog and equipment in the back, for the trip over the bumpy dirt road back to the Blitz.

The 12 noon closing bell had already sounded, so it was time to pack up our wet tent and head into town to wait for the ferry. I'll leave reporting of the results of the 2010 Bioblitz to the scientists, but I had a great time. With all the rain and hunting for specimins, there wasn't much time to do any artwork, but something will probably develop back in the studio, when I catch up on sleep!

Although I haven't yet caught up on sleep, I've at least dried out after a weekend of thunderstorms, ponds and boating on Block Island as part of the 2010 Bioblitz. About 200 people ferried over to document as many species as could be found on the northern half of the island.  And what a half it was.  Below is the field (click to enlarge photos) where we were to pitch our tent, as soon as Mr. Lapham — part of the family that acquired the property in the 50s and 60s then donated most of it to the Nature Conservancy — kindly finished mowing it for the anticipated tent city.

Since Mary and I had taken the earliest ferry (not that we were too anxious to get there or anything) we were the first to claim our spot. Then, since I was the only one who could manage the standard transmission of the ancient Dodge pickup, I was drafted to drive it into town to pick up two loads of folding chairs from the Abrams farm, home of llamas, emus, goats and even a camel. After navigating the boxy, creaky truck over the bumpy gravel access-road to the Clay Head trail, loading and unloading 80 chairs, we felt we had earned a reward with lunch and beer at the Oar in New Harbor.

Then it was back to our spot to pitch our tent. By then others were arriving and setting up. A surprising number had also just purchased their tents for this event, so I didn't feel like such a newbie and was able to check out other brands I had looked at online. I decided I was very happy with the one I picked, isn't it pretty?

Then it was off to explore a bit and check out the view from the bluff trail. We met up with Roberto Bessin, sculptor of beautiful, monumental and ethereal bird sculptures and we all hopped on a shuttle heading for dinner in town before the scheduled lecture by Providence Journal environmental writer Peter Lord, who wrote the Journal's award-winning report on how open space was preserved on Block Island. (Full disclosure: I worked with Peter on putting this piece together for the web.)

By the time we took the shuttle back to the campground everyone seemed ready to turn in, so after checking out the amazing stars from the bluff, we zipped up the tent and tried to get some sleep.

We woke to an overcast day. Mary went on the geology walk, but I decided to take a trail down to a pond and set up my easel. The disappointing result of 2 hours of painting might have survived to be judged back in the studio, but there were just too many witnesses who might ask to see it, so I wiped it off.  It was nice to spend some time on the quiet trail though, just me and the birds.

Back at Science Central we spent some time talking with the other artists until noon. None of us seemed to know exactly what we were going to do but all were excited to be the first artists take part. When the noon siren signaled the start of the 24-hour Bioblitz, it was off to look for frogs. The Lapham property is dotted with kettleholes, surrounded by dense vegetation, which seemed the perfect environment for the little guys. The dense vegetation proved not so perfect for us though, since there were few spots where we could access the mucky shore. But we managed to find a frog in Monument Pond, which our team leader Mandy swabbed as part of a project documenting frog diseases. By now persistent drizzle was falling, so after checking out a few more ponds where we heard bullfrogs, smugly out of reach, we headed back to Science Central. 

There we found that someone else had more luck. We were greeted by container filled with these funny faces. If they look like little kids, it's because they still have their tadpole tails.

By now the rain was coming down hard, but cleared in time for us to stand in line for some great food, socializing, and checking out specimens. The 20 or so artists gathered around a table to share our backgrounds and a bottle of wine, after which we climbed a small hill to check out the bat trap. No bats fell for it, but I was happy to find I could still catch fireflies.

Although cozy on my air mattress, I hadn't gotten much sleep the night before, so I was looking forward to a good night's sleep in my little green tent. It was not to be.... (to be cont.)