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| King penguins |
The first observation is that warming of the sea surface near Crozet in the summer leads to an immediate drop in the breeding success of the king penguins. This worrying phenomenon can be explained by the fact that a higher temperature hinders the development of marine organisms, which can only prosper at a narrow range of temperatures. When king penguins bring less food back to their chicks, they have reduced chances of survival.In other words, if we want this species to survive with us, we need to pay attention.
The second observation, this time during winter, is that an increase of only 0.26°C in the ocean surface temperature, at the edge of the ice sea, leads two years later to a 9% drop in the probability of penguins’ survival. This too is a result of a decrease in marine resources, most probably of krill, which is at the bottom of Antarctic food chains, and which the king penguins need for survival.
This sign is one of my faves for sorting out "important" from "urgent" -- better to do the important stuff, even if it's less urgent. (Let the phone message take care of itself, while I create a new recycling structure here at the house.)
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Here are Episodes 2 and 3 of Sanam Erfani's penguin epic. I'm excited to show these here; it's their first publication. Thanks, Sanam!
Episode 2 – TownLeader’s Tale
Everyday, TownLeader sat by the White Peak over-looking the dark nightsky, searching for Southern Lights. His light obsession began as a toddguin. He remembered the clank of Mother’s fishfood meal preparations, and how excitedly he awaited Father’s return. “Father’d slip through the door,” TownLeader recalled, “bounding in, robust and tall, sweep me off my feet, and shoo me to the white window where, together with Mother in tow, we’d watch the Southern Lights spiral through horizons line. A kaleidoscope of rainbow shades would speckle the white snow, giving the human’s solar panels hidden beneath the snow a perfect pure haze of LightGlow.”
“Humans use the solar panels to gather LightGlow energy,” Father instructed young TownLeader. “Humans use the light, we live by it. I think our role is to teach the humans about LightSource and all that light creates. Always remember, son, Naturalight is best.”
*~*
“The light can just vanish,” thought TownLeader. “It was written long ago that the SkyLord grew displeased with earthly water waste, and so he hid the light from sight. We must teach man how to make better use of ice and light, not just harness it.”
~TownLeader then heard an echoing bang echo over White Peak~
“Man -- you make loud banging and booming sounds when you feel farther from the light.” TownLeader could feel the dark feed the humans’ growing need for ice and light. As a trained LightGuardian, TownLeader calmly guarded the humans’ secret solar panels with full featheregalia. The solar panels still sat safely behind his Father’s roundice shed. And TownLeader’s big brother, MotorMic, still patiently cleared the device of impediments using old fluffeathers to remove snow, icecakes, brownstones, and other ice debris. The blue sourcepiece on the green solar panels was in tact as a result of TownLeader and MotorMic’s dedication to their LightGuarding duties. TownLeader and MotorMic knew, so long as the piece remained in tact, the Peace remained in tact.
~*~
“Come light. Come from the light. Come light upon light. From Yonder vastness bring on the light. From source to night bring forth the light.”
The chirpchant suddenly came to TownLeader in the exact rhythm his GreatFather had instructed him. As a toddguin, TownLeader received instruction regarding ancient icerites and lightglow. In those babyfeathered times, TownLeader dove into a pool of iceoblivion to discover the truth behind the instructions he received from Father and GreatFather. Everything his Father and GreatFather had taught him rang true at this moment.
“The greatest truth of all,” TownLeader remembered his GreatFather’s instruction, “is that man, when bereft of LightSource, feels too much in the dark. Without the color and play of light, man forgets to move his body (dance or sway), shows his laugh less, and begins to forget Earthness.”
“Bang the drums.” TownLeader’s Father had come to his nightdream the previous eve and calmly said, “bang the drums.”
“What does he mean?” The drum signals news. An alert. “But I have none to tell. Bang the drums,” TownLeader skwaked aloud.
~~~
WhitePeak was quiet, but for the hissing of wind on the flaring ice, TownLeader calmly sat on his hindfeathers, shut his beady eyes, began the chirpchant, and beat the ground with perfect featherhythm. Per his GreatFather’s instructions, TownLeader beat to the ancient rhythm of HeartBeat.
“Beat the hearth ‘til the dark drops out,
‘til the wind takes the sound of the featherhythm.”
To all penguins, this rhythm creates an instant-uncontrollable feathering motion. The penguins in their icecaves awakened one by one with the overwhelming desire to fly, fluff, shake, move, dive, swim, soar, play, roll, fall.
“Bang the drums,” TownLeader thought again, and shut his eyes. As he sat on White Peak on his hindfeathers and played, TownLeader’s entire body became the rhythm. Rhythm burst from his heart, rolling through icy WhitePeak onto the flat plains of TerraFirma, over the jagged ice valley homes, into the distant Horizon, and the endless night.
Penguins streamed from their homes in ice valley towards White Peak, moving in perfect Jazz riffeather time to the tune and rhythm of TownLeader’s calling drum.
Boom. BoomBoomBoom. Boom. BoomBoom.
“Rhythm and play,” thought TownLeader. The penguins all closed their eyes as they gave into the dance, marching and swaying, stomping their feet, flinging their featherforms into the icewall surrounding White Peak, until enough had gathered to fill White Peak’s plateau.
The humans could be seen coming from a distance. They gathered at the top of White Peak staring down at the penguins on the plateau. TownLeader’s wings beat on through strain and joy. “Light and love from Penguins to humans is a tradition I will not let fall,” he determined.
Episode 3 - GeneralBob
GeneralBob felt the rhythmic sound echoing through his trailer. It felt like rolling thunder or an avalanche; he had experienced both. Either way, something was moving and shaking the whole trailer, the whole mountain for that matter.
“It’s a two-step process,” Bob thought. “Progress is always a two-step process. Start with what ya got staring ya in the face (even if the only one you got lookin’ you in the eye is you). And step two: decide if what you see is friendly or hostile – this step comes after you recognize the difference between you and the face in the mirror. Whatever the heck is out there is an unknown friend or (more likely) foe.”
Today, the “out there” had awakened him at four-thirty AM with a most annoying constant beat he had ever heard. He couldn’t help but get up. He went to the window. Black. A usual sight for nights in the Arctic. He tried putting his two pillows on his ears after he had stuffed tissues into them. “No escape,” he thought.
The vibration hit every part of his body. No matter what he did, he couldn’t escape the beat. With a single swift hand motion, he pulled his flashlight from his night gear and threw on his zip coats. Goggles fastened as he strode, GeneralBob burst through his door. MajorThom and CaptainFred signaled from the bungalow down below the slanted curve of the hillside. GeneralBob saw their light signal, and reflected back with his Torch that he was safe and heading towards whatever was making that sound.
