Yawning, I go outside and into my backyard around the same time just about every morning.

Why?

Almost two years ago, I joined CoCoRaHS, the Community Collaborative Rain, Hail, and Snow network as an observer. Observations are used by the likes of the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration to learn about weather and climate patterns. You can learn more about what the data informs here. Since joining CoCoRaHS, I have been relatively diligent about checking my approved rain gauge each morning around 7AM (I also love checking other results nearby—you’d be surprised how much variability there can be just a block away!) and entering that data into the CoCoRaHS app on my phone. Each time I enter that data, which is all you actually have to do be a recognized participant, a pop-up appears and implores me to read the “Message of the Day.” I just never did until yesterday.

I’m not sure what moved me. Maybe it was a holiday vibe. But I finally clicked.

And I learned something new!

Have you heard of the The Visual Drought Atlas, which is based at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln’s National Drought Mitigation Center? Anyone can contribute any day, but the VDA suggests making a habit of it on a few major holidays (Labor Day was yesterday) throughout the year. (Hot take: scientists are better than humanists at getting you to contribute to the development of actual knowledge through tasks that truly require the bare minimum of effort.) So, Tyler (my co-conspirator/spouse) and I walked down to the Delaware River in our municipality and snapped a few photos: one of me where we took the photos (so we can try to take them in the same spot each time)…

…one facing downward on the ground…

…another facing north (we used the compass on my phone to assist with this—more on that in a moment)…

…another facing east…

…another facing south…

…and another facing west.

It’s kind of amazing what you learn from simple tasks like this.

First, Tyler was surprised north wasn’t straight up the River. It’s not like we don’t know where we live or the difference between north and south. Indeed, the sun was setting, of course, to the west. But we’re in a bend in a River which runs roughly north-south, and north isn’t simply up-river.

Second, when you upload photos to the Visual Drought Atlas, they ask you to characterize how dry or wet your region is. You get to choose from seven conditions from “severely wet” to “severely dry.” We selected “mildly dry,” which is defined as follows: “Growth may have slowed for plants, crops or pastures. Soil is somewhat dry. Local plants, pastures or crops may not have fully recovered if conditions are changing from drier to wetter.“

I think we got it right.

But this required some discussion on our part and a pause to think about what we have been observing—sometimes subconsciously—outside.

I had to wonder, could I make assessment if I didn’t spend time in our gardens?

We tend to a small vegetable garden, a few fruit tress (fruit is tricky for us, unless it’s a fig), and an ever-expanding native plant garden (which I hope takes over the world), and so we could use these projects to think through the classifications. But if we weren’t people who plant, I’m not entirely sure I could have somewhat confidently selected a dry-wet classification.

I really like these opportunities to add some data to projects related to observing the natural world. Let’s all pay more attention so we can learn something new, make helpful predictions for the future, and change our relationship to the natural world if we need to.

I look forward to reading more CoCoRaHS messages of the day. If they move me again, I’ll let you know. Better yet…yeah, you know what to do.

(Hey-thanks for reading my first Note!)

Other Notes

Monarch caterpillar spotted on milkweed

Bunny or other creature dug out a native plant plug we installed yesterday

Bunny may have chomped on my partridge pea

Prickly pear cactus still alive and well on the tree lawn! (Yes, it’s native)

Noted a gross, chemical-y burning smell two evenings in a row…