Switzerland

Solstice Run

/ PK Read / Leave a comment
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.

Anticyclonic Haze

/ PK Read / Leave a comment
A few hours north of where I live in France, but the haze looks about the same. Photo: AFP

A few hours north of where I live in France, but the haze looks about the same.
Photo: AFP

It’s been a hazy couple of days here on the eastern edge of France, dry and cloudless but when I look out the window, the air above (the currently invisible) Lake Geneva is whitish-yellow.And indeed, checking the news, I find that three-quarters of France is under a high pollution alert. City bikes are free today in Paris, leave the car at home, etc., due to “anticyclonic conditions and cold nights followed by more hot days.” Which means we have a high pressure system settled firmly above the country, and the air pollution isn’t being dispersed.

This week, the Chinese government announced a massive new program to fight pollution and restructure its economy to be more environmentally sustainable. This isn’t due to some newfound altruistic leaning into the green. China is choking on the fruits of its growing economy, and not just because of the almost tangible blankets of smog filling some of its cities. The water is either drying up or polluted and the growing areas of soil are so damaged that they can no longer be farmed.

Tiananmen Square, October 2013 Photo: AP Photo/Alexander F. Yuan

Tiananmen Square, October 2013
Photo: AP Photo/Alexander F. Yuan

One solution is to import water in the form of food grown elsewhere, to outsource major polluting industries off Chinese soil.

Another is to change course. As of this week, China has said it will “resolutely declare war against pollution as (it) declared war against poverty”. Premier Li Keqiang described smog as “nature’s red-light warning against inefficient and blind development”.

A high pressure weather system makes for warm, sunny days, until it doesn’t anymore and it causes haze and lack of rain instead. Considering China’s long spell of high pressure economic success, if we are measuring success in terms of GDP, it will be interesting to see what the country can do if it truly throws its weight behind wrapping its economy around sustainable development, and what the costs, both financial and human, of this course change will be.

Two Trails

/ PK Read / 1 Comment
DSC00076

The running path, taken earlier. Looks pretty much like this now – a little less green on the ground, a little less blue in the sky.

A brisk wind is chasing rain across the sky in quick, sharp intervals, strobe lights of sunshine cutting through. Just enough for a good run under a blue sky, between the raindrops.

I had planned to write about spring barley and the malting process that leads to single malt whisky, but before I could even get started, I fell down a rabbit hole of farming information regarding the glut of malting barley being stored from last year’s crop, how storage capacities of Scottish maltsters have been fully reached and what that means for existing barley stocks in terms of germination and export.

Fascinating stuff, the long path that leads up to the malting process itself. At least, to an amateur agricultural nerd and single malt enthusiast.

So, instead, I’ll head into a spot of sun, and leave with the promise of more malting stories to come at a later date, when the running trail isn’t beckoning more than the path of barley.

Next weekend, though, the plan is to introduce a new cocktail of my own invention, the Scaly Anteater, in honor of World Pangolin Day on 15 February.

For now though, a song of neither the whisky trail, nor my running trail here in France, but a trail song of a slightly different nature.

Sea of Sun

/ PK Read / Leave a comment
Sea of fog, Geneva basin Image via Monts Jura live web cam (Crozet)

Sea of fog, Geneva basin
Image via Monts Jura live web cam (Crozet)

Yesterday I posted images of atmospheric life at our altitude, all fog and frost.

Today, this is the view from several hundred meters above our heads, taken from a ski station web cam that’s twenty minutes from our place. The view is out over Lake Geneva, with the Alps in the distance. All of the Pays-de-Gex and Geneva, including our village, is beneath that white sea.

It’s comforting to know the sun is right there, if we feel the need to go visit.

Frosted Fig

/ PK Read / 1 Comment

Last week, I went for a short walk in the late afternoon. It was sunny, and although it wasn’t warm, it was tolerably above zero.

Photo: PK Read

Photo: PK Read

Then the temperature plunged, and the first real winter fog of the season settled in.

I’m fortunate in that I don’t mind fog. Probably because I grew up along the notoriously foggy coastline of northern California.

Photo: PK Read

Photo: PK Read

It’s not pleasant to drive in, but otherwise, I find it a more comforting and comfortable weather condition than, say, sheets of rain or hip-deep snow.

Photo: PK Read

Photo: PK Read

Many in the Lake Geneva area succumb to gloomy moods during our long foggy sessions, which can last for weeks. I took most of these photos early this morning. The fog had thinned a bit, allowing a much longer view than I’ve seen in days. I can even see the roofs of neighboring houses.

Photo: PK Read

Photo: PK Read

The garden has gone into sugar-frosted glory. The fog itself floats in tiny crystals, and after three days of this, the layers of fine ice have become thick and heavy.

Photo: PK Read

Photo: PK Read

In a pinch, though, there’s always a simple solution to escape the fog: A half-hour drive up into the Jura, above the fog line. Our village is at an altitude of around 1500 ft (470 m), and I can often see a tinge of blue above, where the blanket of fog stops and sunshine begins.

Photo: PK Read

Photo: PK Read

Every so often, the lower part of our road will be in the fog, while we look out across a sunny sea of white. Not today, though. And probably not this week.

This is the week an ambitious patio dandelion thought it had one last chance at seeding out before winter. It didn’t.

Photo: PK Read

Photo: PK Read

 

 

Bubbly Surprise

/ PK Read / Leave a comment

It’s been an icy couple weeks here in the foothills of the Jura, with a strong bise wind blowing down from the Alps, funneling down through the Lake Geneva basin and wearing itself out to points south of here. It’s dry, it’s cold, and it can be unrelenting for as long as it lasts, usually a few days.

A bise is the word used for the traditional French kiss-on-the-cheek greeting (three kisses in our region), but the bise wind feels more like a sharp slap.

In the heart of winter, a strong bise can whip the waters of Lake Geneva into a frenzy, leaving behind well-known images like the one below. We aren’t there yet, although we did get some snow and ice.

Lakeside at Evian-les-Bains, Lake Geneva, during a 2012 bise. Photo: thedarkpond

Lakeside at Evian-les-Bains, Lake Geneva, during a 2012 bise.
Photo: thedarkpond

Not only did the bise finally come to an end this weekend, but I found some other good news.

In spite of a cold winter, a wet spring, a hot summer punctuated by extreme storms and hail, and the latest grape harvest in years, the Champagne region managed to increase its harvest results over those of 2012, and had the best harvest of the past five years.

Not bad, all things considered.

Other wine-producing regions haven’t been as lucky, especially the Alsace and Bordeaux areas, which were badly affected by hailstorms.

This is unfortunate, but as a Champagne drinker, I stay focused on the positive:

Photo via DestinationsPerfected

Photo via DestinationsPerfected

According to the Confédération des coopératives vinicoles de France (CCVF), the French collective of wine-producer cooperatives, there are hopes that this vintage may turn out to be exceptional in quality, as well.

The first tastings of the vin clair, the still wine that precedes the production of champagne, will give some indication in early 2014. The first bottles of this year will be sold in 2016.

No more bise and a promising Champagne vintage after a challenging year? I feel my mood lifting already.

Now here’s some divine bubbly stuff that comes, appropriately, from a movie called Stormy Weather.

First Slap

/ PK Read / Leave a comment
Early morning garden, first snow. Photo: PK Read

Early morning garden, first snow.
The little plum tree had several birds nestled in among the branches,
I could see them waiting and watching as the leaves above them became heavy with snow.
Photo: PK Read

 

Old Man Winter gave us a sharp flick of his icy finger this past week.

We had the first real snow of the season at our elevation of 480 m (1570 ft) in the foothills of the Jura mountains.

I decided that leaving the house is an overrated activity, put on another sweater and an extra pair of socks, and sat inside, feeling guilty about all the garden work I haven’t yet completed.

Snowy garden gate, seen from the warmth of the house. Photo: PK Read

Snowy garden gate, seen from the warmth of the house.
Photo: PK Read

The cats took up all the space on the bed, the first load of wood was hauled in for the fireplace, and the first batch of winter squash soup was cooked out of necessity because anything else would have required leaving the house and as stated above, that had already been ruled out as a voluntary option.

First wood at the bottom of the stairs. Photo: PK Read

First firewood at the base of the stairs.
Photo: PK Read

Today, though, the snow is all but gone, and I have no excuse not to go out and do the garden tasks that await. The cats, of course, will continue to do what they do best.

The cats Supermanning it across the bed. Photo: PK Read

The cats Supermanning it across the bed.
Photo: PK Read

Happy Birthday, Rorschach

/ PK Read / Leave a comment

rorschach-test-1024x967Above is a Rorschach inkblot, used for decades in psychological assessment exercises as a means of examining personality characteristics and emotional function.

Hermann Rorschach, the Swiss psychiatrist who was born on this day in 1884 and who invented the inkblot test, originally intended it as a tool for diagnosing schizophrenia.

Below are projected images of the Earth, should all ice caps melt in the long term. Reaction to them could be used, much like the inkblot test, to determine certain functions.

Do they make the viewer want to do something about rising global temperatures, do they inspire resignation, or are they dismissed as a pointless exercise?

Antarctica The light-blue outline represent the present day shorelines. Source: National Geographic

Antarctica
The light-blue outlines represent the present day shorelines.
Source: National Geographic

Asia Existing cities indicated. Source: National Geographic

Asia
Existing cities indicated.
Source: National Geographic

Skyward Run

/ PK Read / Leave a comment

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.

 

Sober Expectations

/ PK Read / 1 Comment
Spring vineyard, Napa Valley, California Photo: PK Read

Spring vineyard, Napa Valley, California
Photo: PK Read

I saw recently that Napa Valley wineries had already started their grape harvesting season as of August 1 this year, almost two weeks earlier than the average, due to a short winter combined with a long and mild spring.

So I wondered whether our long, wet, cold winter, combined with a long, wet, cold spring and a massive hailstorm, had affected harvest expectations in our wine region of western Switzerland.

The answer, in a word, is: Yes.

Expectations for the Swiss vendanges – the wine harvest – are not high this year. The June 20 hailstorm destroyed around 6% of the Swiss vineyard crop within five minutes, affecting a potential 6 millions liters (1.6 million gallons) of Swiss wine. Harvesting isn’t expected for the remaining vines until well into September.

Swiss vineyard after a hailstorm Photo: Les News

Swiss vineyard after a hailstorm
Photo: Les News

Over in the French Champagne region, about three hours north from where we live, violent hailstorms from July 26-27 destroyed large swathes of vineyards – some areas experiencing a 10% loss, others 100%, with an overall loss expected of around 30% of this year’s crop. The same holds true for the Burgundy region.

Hailstorms (and even a “mini-tornado”) destroyed vineyards, but to a lesser extent, in the Bordeaux region as well. The French and Swiss Ministries of Agriculture are looking into adjusting insurance strategies to allow for ‘climatic risks’ in the future, as the assumption is that extreme weather will only increase.

French language viticulture news stories make for grim reading these days. What’s left of the crop will be harvested late.

Photo: RTS Info

Photo: RTS Info

So I guess California’s Napa Valley was a winner this year in vineyard climatology.

As for my single, heroic muscadet grape vine, which usually produces around 20-30 kg (45-65 lbs) per year, I don’t expect we’ll get more than a few good bunches this season – the cold, the wet, the wind have all done their part and our vine is the barest it has been in almost twenty years.

I do have one good harvest story this year, though – the lavender I planted last year as a part of a bee and butterfly section has attracted a healthy colony of bumblebees, who come and harvest pollen every afternoon. Their loud communal buzz fills one side of the garden, an industrious song for the summer heat.

There are around 30-40 bumblebees in my lavender bushes this year - most colonies only number 50 or less, so I'm assuming an entire nest has taken up residence nearby. Photo: PK Read

There are around 30-40 bumblebees in my lavender bushes this year – most colonies only number 50 or less, so I’m assuming an entire nest has taken up residence nearby.
Photo: PK Read