While each volcano is unique they can largely be divided into red volcanoes and grey volcanoes.

Red volcanoes typically have effusive eruptions dominated by the classic red-glowing lava flow or lava lake. The constant mild eruptions of lava let gases escape reducing the chances of gas build-up and larger explosions. A classic red volcano is Kīlauea in Hawaii.

Grey volcanoes are known for explosive eruptions. Trapped gases and heat can build up within the volcano releasing explosive eruptions that can shoot ashes and rock high into the sky and cause fast-moving pyroclastic flows of solidified lava and ash. Grey volcanoes are typically much more destructive than red volcanoes and can exhibit some behaviours like their red counterparts. A classic grey volcano is Mt St Helens.

I learned this distinction from the remarkable film Fire of love.

Order of adjectives (came to mind as I wrote 'classic red-glowing lava flow' - try the adjectives in other orders =) )

Red volcano, grey volcano

Banner clouds can form on the side of a high or exposed peak and seem to stick to the mountain face like a banner, even on an otherwise cloudless day. There are several theories for how they form but in general strong winds of cold dry air from one side likely interact with warmer humid air on the other. Look out for them next time you're in the mountains.

Also see lenticular clouds, thunder clouds, and more clouds.

Banner cloud

Durable dynamic systems have elements, or layers, that change at different rates. The fast layers that change quickly provide the innovation, while the slower layers stabilise and remember.

In his short article Pace Layering: How Complex Systems Learn and Keep Learning, Stewart Brand gives this evocative example of the time hierarchy of a coniferous forest:

"Take a coniferous forest.  The hierarchy in scale of pine needle, tree crown, patch, stand, whole forest, and biome is also a time hierarchy.  The needle changes within a year, the crown over several years, the patch over many decades, the stand over a couple of centuries, the forest over a thousand years, and the biome over ten thousand years.  The range of what the needle may do is constrained by the crown, which is constrained by the patch and stand, which are controlled by the forest, which is controlled by the biome.  Nevertheless, innovation percolates throughout the system via evolutionary competition among lineages of individual trees dealing with the stresses of crowding, parasites, predation, and weather.  Occasionally, large shocks such as fire or disease or human predation can suddenly upset the whole system, sometimes all the way down to the biome level."

It's an example of his wonderful framework of pace layers which he applies as the working structure of a robust and adaptable civilisation.

Time hierarchy

Ever since I came across Mihalyi Csikszentmihalyi's concept of Flow it has stayed with me as a simple framework and beacon for finding joy, creativity, and total involvement with life.  

"What I 'discovered' was that happiness is not something that happens. It is not the result of good fortune or random chance. It is not something that money can buy or power command. It does not depend on outside events, but, rather, on how we interpret them. Happiness, in fact, is a condition that must be prepared for, cultivated, and defended privately by each person. People who learn to control inner experience will be able to determine the quality of their lives, which is as close as any of us come to being happy."

When researching happiness Csikszentmihalyi found that be they climbers, ballet dancers, chess players, or gardeners, people gave surprisingly similar descriptions to how they felt at their peak experience while performing an activity.

When in flow people are wholly focused on the present moment, they experience a strong sense of control, they lose their self-consciousness and their ego, their experience of time changes so that time can fly by or a moment can seem to slow down, and the joy of performing the activity becomes an end in itself.

Flow has a fairly simple set of conditions which I find myself using as a little mental checklist:

When climbing, a prototypical flow activity, it's clear that you are trying to get to the top, you can immediately see if you are making progress and whether an action progressed you or not, and it's wise to pick a wall that is difficult but not impossible, for you to enjoy it. No wonder climbing can be so addictive.

By contrast, it was evident to me that none of these were present when studying for my PhD.

I also like flow because it reminds me that peak happiness is unlikely to be experienced by sitting around watching the TV.

The quote is from, Flow, the psychology of happiness, by Mihalyi Csikszentmihalyi, who also taught me that any name can work to do great work.

Flow

It all matters. Be it one person, one bird, or one tree. We are all connected. As John Muir wrote in My First Summer in the Sierra:

"As soon as we take one thing by itself, we find it hitched to everything else in the universe."

The sketch is Heart Lake in his beloved Sierra Nevada.

Hitched to everything else in the universe

I hadn’t given much thought to hope, beyond it being a nice feeling to have, until I heard of CR Snyder’s cognitive model for hope which shed a new light on it for me. He proposed a model of hope where (paraphrasing) an individual may be hopeful if they have:

Goals they desire. If you don’t or can’t picture any future state you’d like then you won’t have a lot of hope.

Pathways. You need to see some ways that you may make step-by-step progress towards a goal.

Willpower or agency. You need to be motivated and believe that you have the ability to succeed at your goal.

With all of these you can imagine feeling hopeful. Without any one of them and you probably won’t so much.

The mountain is the Ogre, a wholly impossible looking peak scaled by Doug Scott and others for which I would have had zero hope to climb (no pathways, no willpower) and yet they remarkably did.

HT once again to Brené Brown in Dare to Lead.

Hope

There’s something about being out in Nature for 3 days or more that resets us and improves our mood, our wellbeing, and how well our brain is working. Observed by river rafting guide Ken Sanders who used to see a marked change in the groups he led on the 3rd day of being out on the river, it’s known as the 3-day effect. Since then, David Strayer and his group at the University of Utah have conducted studies that measured a real change in our calmness and even our creative problem solving after 3 or more days in Nature.

“I think it takes the first two days and nights to wash away whatever veneer of civilization you have brought with you. The new reality begins on that third day.”

More about the 3 day effect at National Geograhic: This is your brain on Nature and REI: The Nature Fix.

No doubt similar things at work to the magic of forest bathing.

The 3-day effect

Everyone knows Everest is the highest mountain at a colossal 8,848m above sea level. But, depending on how you’re measuring, there are two other candidates for tallest mountain.

Mauna Kea is a volcano on the big island of Hawaii. In fact the whole island is made from volcano, so as a peak it rises from the base of the Pacific ocean to over 4,200m above sea level. Including the part of the mountain that rises from the sea bed it is over 10,000m tall.

Mt Chimborazo can also lay a claim to the tallest mountain. The Earth is not a perfect sphere — it bulges around the Equator meaning that points on the Equator are several kilometres further from the centre of the Earth than points further North or South. A bulging around the centre is a common shape for a spinning sphere due to the force exerted by the spinning. Sitting almost exactly on the Equator means that Chimborazo’s already enormous 6,263m from sea level makes its summit the furthest point on the Earth’s surface from the centre of the Earth.

I’m not totally sure if that means that at some point Chimborazo’s summit makes it the closest point to the sun, but it definitely sounds plausible! 

The 3 tallest mountains

The effect you may have noticed where things further in the distance lose their intensity and colour until they fade into the sky. Most often noticeable with hills or mountains, but also in a misty forest as mist, dust, fog or things like pollution increase the effect.

If it’s a blue sky day, the distance will take on a bluer tone like the colour of the sky.

This scene painted from our ascent of Mt Rainier in the Pacific Northwest. And here’s a sunset version.

Atmospheric perspective

Divergent (Mid-Atlantic ridge, The Rift Valley), Convergent (The Andes, The Himalayas) and Transform (San Andreas fault, Dead Sea Transform). There are some sub-varieties but these are the main ones. This makes natural sense, so there’s no remembering to do, when you have two contacting plates: they can either be pushing together, pulling apart or rubbing past each other.

Incidentally, the idea that the giant continents move around all the time, enough to pull apart South America and Africa, and thrust up the Himalayas, obvious as it may seem now, was once not at all obvious. And if you stand on the ground in a big landscape, it’s kind of amazing to think of just what an amazing notion it was to propose.

I read about it in Bill Bryson’s, A Short History of Nearly Everything for which I found a relevant excerpt online - The Earth Moves (pdf) - should you be interested in the characters that had the courage to seriously propose it.

Tectonic plate interaction boundaries

V-shaped, formed by a river and U-shaped after carving by a glacier. Plus variations thereof.

I believe you get canyons when the land is going up and the river is cutting down. A nice frame shift I saw in a nature program was to not think of the river as moving, but instead think of the river as stationary and the land (the continental plates) as moving around it. You’ll get a canyon when the land is pushing up and the river is cutting down. Much like pushing a block of cheese up through a cheese wire. OK the cheese is my analogy which is why it’s not as good.

Had a helpful comment from Austin correcting and explaining, “canyons are formed any time the weathering action of some force (i.e. a flowing river) greatly outpaces the surrounding environment’s eroding forces. For example, the grand canyon is so deep because it never rains in the desert, and wind doesn’t erode as quickly as water.”

Sketchplanations tagged with mountains