The Long View

I was out on my first run of 2019. It was the second day of the year, not the first. The first was foggy, grey, dim and dark. No views to be had, no motivation to get out and find some. Day 2 was a different story.

The same mountains that were there behind the fog and drizzle of New Years Day suddenly revealed themselves. Of course they’d been there all along. I always know they are there, right there in front of me, but there are times I just can’t use that knowledge to envision them on the far side of Lake Geneva.

It takes discipline and determination to see the positives when it comes to climate and the environment. But they are there. It may sound strange, but the mountains ahead need us to see them as much as we need to see them. When it comes to taking action, having a picture of the mountain on the other side of the clouds might be the only way to see it. At least for now.

I didn’t make any resolutions for 2019, but I am going to make a serious effort, both here on ChampagneWhisky and elsewhere, to always see the best views – regardless of the low-hanging clouds that might be blocking my line of sight.

Mont Blanc, France. Photo: PKR

 

Autumn Palette

Mont Blanc at sunset. All photos: PKR

Mont Blanc at sunset.
All photos: PKR

Completing my regular running loop these days takes forever.

Why? Because it’s so breathtakingly beautiful. I have to stop every now and then just to take it all in.

Fallen leaves under a village streetlamp.

Fallen leaves under a village streetlamp at the end of an evening run.

 

The bourbon-sweet scent of fallen leaves and late crops, the soft snik-snik-snik of leaves falling on other leaves, falling to the ground like a gentle dry rain, the intoxicating tapestry of yellows, reds, oranges and browns.

photo 4-2

 

My mood is made even brighter by a lovely autumnal palette of blended whiskies, a wedding anniversary gift given to celebrate more than two decades of blended lives.

Look at all those lovely hues.

photo 1-5

What a treat.

Some of them I know, some of them I don’t. The Johnnie Walker Blue Label turns out to be like a soft puff of sweet smoke, a perfect complement to the seasonal change outside.

I’ll update on the others as we try them.

Who says autumn is the melancholy season?

Not me.photo 2-5

An update on the Hibiki whisky here.

Solstice Run

The snowy peak of Mont Blanc is between the two stands of trees, a sharp view my phone camera couldn't quite catch. But it caught my shadow catching the view.

The snowy peak of Mont Blanc is between the two stands of trees, a sharp view my phone camera couldn’t quite catch. But it caught my shadow catching the view.

A stunning summer solstice day, some of it spent in the garden staking up tomatoes and peas, some of it spent sitting together, some of it spent in blissful afternoon napping. And some of it spent on a good 7 km run.

Another minute further down the road, facing in the other direction: Solstice sunset over the Jura range.

Another minute further down the road, facing in the other direction: Solstice sunset over the Jura range.

The summer solstice is a bittersweet pleasure. The beginning of summer; when the first day of summer is as glorious as today’s was, it’s hard to feel anything but grateful.

On the other hand, it’s the annual milestone, the shortening of days all the way until winter. Anything we haven’t yet planted might not have time to come to fruition before the next big chill.

Still, when out on a run and confronted by this path ahead, even the big chill can look inviting.

Mont Blanc on the other side of Lake Geneva, still bright in the setting sun.

Mont Blanc like a cloud rising on the other side of Lake Geneva, still bright in the setting sun.

Cloud Spelunking

Back when global exploration meant finding a place, discovery was fairly straightforward. A given group of people could send some intrepid souls in a direction where none of them had ever been before, be it a valley, a sea, an island or a continent, and then that new place was ‘discovered’. There were gaps between the discovered places, but after a while, most of the gaps were closed and we now have a pretty good idea of where most places are on the surface of our planet.

Exploration has gotten a bit more slippery since then, and filling the gaps can be an elusive undertaking.

Alps in morning cloud, New Year's Day 2014 Photo: PK Read

Alps in morning cloud, New Year’s Day 2014
Photo: PK Read

In the investigation of ongoing climate change, unexplored territory remains. At the American Geophysical Union (AGU) annual fall meeting in December, three scientists who contributed to the most recent International Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) Working Group I report (released in September 2013) outlined three areas that need more intrepid spelunking if the climate change process and its impacts are to be understood.

One misty area is the full functionality of the carbon cycle, or how carbon makes its way between the soils, the plants, water bodies and the air.

Another is how the oceans themselves work at deeper levels. Specifically, how they absorb the increasing heat of the atmosphere.

But, as a card-carrying member of the Cloud Appreciation Society, I am particularly keen to follow the research on the role played by clouds when it comes to climate change. How do airborne particles affect clouds? Also, apparently low level cloud cover is migrating to the north and south. What overall effect this will have is currently a foggy area on the map of knowledge.

Mont Blanc, New Year's Day 2014. Photo: PK REad

Mont Blanc, New Year’s Day 2014.
The Jet d’Eau in Lake Geneva is visible in the lower right corner.
Photo: PK Read

In my corner of the planet, ephemeral clouds and solid mountains share the skyline. Just because the clouds obscure parts of the jagged outline on some days doesn’t mean the mountain has moved or shifted shape. And, contrary to what climate change deniers might insist, just because we can’t see all the gears and workings of climate change yet doesn’t mean we never will.

It’s commendable that these scientists are exposing gaps in knowledge so that we can send forth more explorers, and reveal the general location of the obscured territories in our understanding of climate change.

 

Skyward Run

The day started like this.

Sunrise over the Alps & Lake Geneva Photo: PK Read

Sunrise over the Alps & Lake Geneva
Photo: PK Read

By evening, the clouds had cleared, so at one point the run looked like this in one direction.

Sunset over the Jura range. Photo: PK Read

Sunset over the Jura range.
Photo: PK Read

Like this in the other.

Sunset and Mont Blanc. Photo: PK Read

Sunset and Mont Blanc.
Photo: PK Read

And like this straight ahead.

Sunset and the Jura/Rhône Valley Photo: PK Read

Sunset and the Jura/Rhône Valley
Photo: PK Read

Then I looked over my shoulder, and this fine fellow popped up over a cloud.

Moonrise over a cloud. Photo: PK Read

Moonrise over a cloud.
Photo: PK Read

It was a pretty good day, sky-wise.