Pelicans lifting from the lake surface before dawn.
Pelicans have been on the lake for a few weeks now. For the moment, they gather overnight on the east end, a loose white raft in the shallows, then lift off just before dawn to find better fishing. In time, they will move on, continuing north. It is another sign that, despite the odd turns in this year’s weird weather, spring has arrived.
These are American White Pelicans, and they are everywhere—far more than one might expect. On clear days, when flying into or out of the Cedar Rapids airport, the landscape below reveals why: it is patterned with reservoirs, river backwaters, sand pits, and lakes, all of them inviting to birds in transit. From the ground, one can see them gather into long, shifting V formations, angled north toward Minnesota and the Dakotas. For now, though, they are here — resting, feeding, and reminding us, in their numbers and movement, that the season is turning.
During the day, the pelicans scatter. Across the open water, individuals and small groups spread out, each bird taking up its own stretch of lake or backwater, like a sentinel. They are not simply feeding at random, but searching — reading the surface, the light, and subtle signs of fish below. Only later, when something is found, do scattered birds begin to draw together. The distances close, the spacing tightens, and the loose geometry of the day gives way to purpose. They gang up on fish for dinner.
It took me years to recognize these patterns. I have a lot more to understand about this seasonal guest. For now, I just see them lifting from the lake in the predawn light. Heading out for better feeding areas: the way I would if one of them.
It was the day for a drive to Monticello to pick up 150 pounds of composted chicken manure for the garden. I learned to use this fertilizer during eight years working on a friend’s farm where they used organic practices. Most farmers use it on a larger scale, yet 50-pound bags were available for gardeners like me. That is, they did sell them before private equity bought the company.
The first sign of trouble was the telephone number being disconnected. I found another number and asked my question, “Before I drive 40 minutes to Monticello, I want to make sure you have 50-pound bags of composted chicken manure.” In a gruff voice, a lady replied, “I can tell you for sure, they don’t have that in Monticello.” Undaunted, I looked for other options as first planting is approaching.
Life is change, Paul Kantner wrote. How it differs from the rocks.
Midwestern BioAg, the company where I sourced fertilizer for years, operates in the sustainable/biological agriculture sector, helping both conventional and organic farms reduce dependency on synthetic nitrogen and phosphorus, aligning with environmental goals, according to Google. That’s why we used them. The composted chicken manure product they made was perfect for a small gardener. It was uniform in texture, easy to apply, and enhanced yields.
When private equity bought a controlling interest in the firm in 2020, there was no noticeable change in company operations… until this week.
I had to do something. Potato planting is slated for Friday, and after that, Katy bar the door on garden work until Memorial Day. It turned out there are a number of “organic” composted manure products available, most selling for a lot less than the one I was using. A nearby hardware store advertised a 40-bag of “organic composted manure” for $2.79, so I drove to the nearby city and bought five.
On the pallet where I picked them up, one bag was open. I could see the mix was not as uniformly granulated as the other. Adaptation is a key part of home gardening. On Highway One I thought about how to address that. I have a screen with quarter-inch mesh mounted on a frame. I will push each bag through it to create a more uniform texture. I had a plan by the time I got home.
I started digging holes for six planting tubs. The soil was easy to dig and everything is falling into place. I don’t like change, yet the best policy in fertilizer is accept it and move on.
Tub with a layer of sticks in the bottom to keep the openings flowing when it rains.
Ambient temperature reached 87 degrees on Saturday in Big Grove. On Sunday it dropped to the 50s, and Monday, it was below freezing. Not really Spring, is it? The lilacs appear to be surviving the temperature fluctuation… so far. It is hard to know what will hold.
While it’s still cold, I’ve been working on The Great Book Sort — more boxes of books to the public library used book sale, and a growing “to be read” bookcase. The project asks a question in 2026 America: What will get our attention?
Books are an easy answer. They are disconnected from the digital world and the daily discipline of reading at least 25 pages lends itself to both respite from society’s noise and engagement in new things. That hour a day with a book, and selecting the next one, are needed forms of intellectual engagement.
What else?
Let’s cross off some things. We don’t watch television in our house — no antenna nor subscription to cable television service. I am not a gamer. The extent of my computer gaming was stopping once at a truck stop during a blizzard and playing a Pac-Man console for a quarter. Mother showed me how to play Solitaire on her work computer when I visited her. Radio is something for listening in the car, or while working in the garage. It never gains my complete attention. Since the Saturday lineup on Public Radio was disassembled — about the time Garrison Keillor left A Prairie Home Companion the second time — that era ended. Mostly I listen for favorite tunes and to see which political groups are advertising.
If I know you and you send me an email, I will read it. Email is my most used social media application. I remember presenting a case for email to a company I worked for because it connected everyone in a global organization at my previous employer. They did not sign up right away. I also read texts, but contrary to popular culture, they are less immediate to me than email.
When our child streams on Twitch, I turn it on and have it in the background. My main interest is the sound of a familiar voice, someone with whom I have been since their beginning.
I read two newspapers: The Cedar Rapids Gazette and the Solon Economist. The former recently changed hands and format. The jury is out on whether I will continue. The latter was recently purchased by the Daily Iowan and is gravitating toward being a college newspaper in most respects. Two of them for now, about 10 minutes for each edition.
Bluesky is my social media account and I check in repeatedly throughout the day. I follow 88 other accounts and there is not a lot of action. It is a good source of national and world news.
The rest of my attention goes to work, family, and a few friends, mostly centered around home, cooking, cleaning, writing, home repairs, and gardening. On a chilly day most of the work is indoors.
I am currently reading The Attention Merchants: The Epic Scramble to Get Inside Our Heads by Tim Wu. The premise and business model most often used has been providing free diversion in exchange for a moment of consideration. Such attention is harvested, then sold to the highest-bidding advertiser. I’m sure my attention has been harvested. With some products, I’m not even aware of it, yet I can think of only a few instances where it hooked me.
For example, I watched the appearance of the Beatles on the Ed Sullivan Show on February 9, 1964. That summer, I bought a trade paperback book about the Beatles at the corner drug store. In the fall I went with Mother to the King Korn Stamp Redemption Center. The television show had me thinking I could be a musician. I remember a light snow falling on us as we returned to the car with my new Kay acoustic guitar.
As The Great Book Sort continues, I harvest my own memories while touching books I bought for many reasons, the least of which was whether it was advertised. When spending my attention on a life imperfectly lived, there is hope I can avoid the pitfalls of the attention economy.
Sometimes I simply want to walk on the state park trail and pay attention to the sunrise of a new day. For now, that is enough.
Pre-dawn light on the state park trail, March 23, 2026.
Good people are working to address the climate crisis… just not in the Trump administration. The dominance of the president and his minions runs throughout the federal government to promote energy solutions that make climate change worse. More specifically, discussion about loosening the regulatory environment blocks needed conversations about addressing the climate crisis.
Since January 2025, the Congress held hearings that mention climate change. However, they hear mostly from industry representatives. Which industries? Groups like the American Petroleum Institute and U.S. Chamber of Commerce. Industry is urging Congress to create a more predictable, streamlined regulatory environment, emphasizing faster permitting, lower compliance costs, and clearer rules. They argue current regulations hinder investment, energy development, and competitiveness. They often frame climate policy in economic and security terms rather than scientific urgency. They do not address climate change, nor will they.
Few people I know don’t see the urgency of addressing the climate crisis.
Absent action by our federal government, there are voices we should recognize, beginning with Dr. Katharine Hayhoe, an atmospheric scientist. Global warming exists and Hayhoe doesn’t accept it on faith. According to her website, she crunches data, analyzes models, and helps engineers and city managers and ecologists quantify the impacts. She is everywhere on social media and tells the scientific truth about where our priorities should be.
Another person to follow is Bill McKibben, a prominent American environmentalist, author, and co-founder of the grassroots climate campaign 350.org. He is also founder of Third Act, which organizes people over the age of 60 for action on climate and justice, according to his website.
There are others, yet Hayhoe and McKibben are in the middle of what is currently happening regarding the climate crisis. Follow them.
Blog for Iowa also recommends the handy climate change BS guide I first posted in 2015, “Is That Climate Change Article BS?” It’s a bit dated, yet still has good advice:
Skip climate articles by people who think the problem is hopeless or intractable — because it most certainly is not.
Skip articles written by George Will and his ilk.
Skip articles — especially longer climate essays — by authors who don’t explicitly tell you what temperature target or CO2 concentration target they embrace and how they’d go about attaining it.
Skip articles embracing Orwellian terms like “good Anthropocene.”
“One of the most important things we all need to know when it comes to climate action is this: we are not alone.,” Katharine Hayhoe recently said. I invite readers to follow Hayhoe and McKibben on social media if you are not already.
In Iowa we pay attention to the weather. On the first day of spring, unseasonably warm temperatures — climbing into the 70s and even 80s — were part of a broader “heat dome” pattern influencing much of the United States. Record-breaking heat hit the West, and the same atmospheric setup is pushing milder air into the Midwest, giving us an early, almost summer-like start to the season. Is it climate change? Yes — but not in a simple, one-to-one way. The high temperature today is forecast to be 83°F.
These conditions are unusual for March, yet they offer a timely opportunity to begin transitioning work outdoors. As the jet stream shifts and warmer air settles in, now is a good moment to prepare for seasonal tasks, adjust routines, and take advantage of this early stretch of favorable weather — keeping in mind that spring in Iowa rarely settles in all at once.
I’m awaiting arrival of a batch of seeds. When they are in hand, I’ll plant them indoors, followed by peppers, tomatoes and cucurbits over the next couple of weeks. I will use the warm weather to clear the space for the portable greenhouse. By Good Friday, potato tubs and onion and leek starts should be in the ground, the greenhouse assembled and in use. I am simply waiting for the soil to hit that perfect window of friability — crumbly, loose texture that breaks apart easily — and then, game on!
The bed near the front steps has Bluebells. They were a transplant from my in-laws’ home and thrived without me doing anything. They are just budding in the ground on March 20. I carefully cleared the surface and planted a number of old flower seeds, some dating to 2022. The idea is to have something else grow here after Bluebells are done. With old flower seeds, one never knows.
In the garage, I opened the box of onion sets only to find they were leeks. I looked at the order form and indeed, I had not ordered onions. These several weeks, I had been planning how to plant onions, but now the ship steers to starboard in order to make a new plan. Luckily my supplier still had some onion sets left, so I ordered them.
Days like this, I put on special clothing and just go to the garage. No plan, no urgency. Just me interacting with my environment and home. Things get done.
While moving the potato tubs to the designated plot, I found the ground too wet for digging, or even walking on it. Don’t want to compress soil, so I delayed for a few days until it dries out. Spring is off to a good start.
Open for business on the first day of Spring, March 20, 2026.
When I had a newspaper route, I stopped at the corner drugstore and occasionally bought mass-market paperback books. They are characterized by their small size (roughly 4.25 x 6.87 inches), lower price point, and widespread distribution in places like airports, grocery stores, and drugstores. I have so many of them that I built a special shelf to store them near the ceiling.
They were never archival quality, and a typical one from the 1960s has yellowing pages due to the cheaper paper from which it was made. The pages grow increasingly brittle with age. They are what they are: a record of what I was reading. They are subject to the same curation as any of my books.
One of the first I bought was The True Story of the Beatles by Billy Shepherd, illustrated by Bob Gibson. It was promoted as “The original book about the Beatles,” with photographs published in the U.S. “for the first time.” After seeing them on February 9, 1964, on The Ed Sullivan Show, I bought this book that summer and, in the fall, went with my mother to the King Korn stamp redemption center and got a new Kay guitar to play. Our family members were Beatles fans.
Another early purchase was The Great Escape by Paul Brickhill. Several World War II veterans lived in our neighborhood and spoke about their experiences. My cohort of grade schoolers descended on downtown Davenport to meet up for matinees at the several movie theaters operating there. World War II films, including this one, were de rigueur. The 50-cent Crest Book reported, “Now a spellbinding motion picture starring Steve McQueen, James Garner, Richard Attenborough. A United Artists release.” The printing of my copy was October 1965. I can’t say how many times I saw this film—yet many. That’s how grade schoolers rolled in the 1960s.
I went through a period when I collected mass-market paperbacks written and popular in the 1960s. Among them are On the Road by Jack Kerouac, One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest by Ken Kesey, Beautiful Losers by Leonard Cohen, Bound for Glory by Woody Guthrie, Reminiscences of the Cuban Revolutionary War by Che Guevara, Prison Journals of a Priest Revolutionary by Philip Berrigan, Soledad Brother: The Prison Letters of George Jackson, How to Talk Dirty and Influence People by Lenny Bruce, Daybreak by Joan Baez, and Long Time Coming and a Long Time Gone by Richard Fariña. Just typing these titles is a trip down memory lane.
In part, that is the problem. I moved past the 1960s in my intellectual development, and these books are unlikely to be reread. I envision more culling of less useful mass-market paperbacks as I move through this project. The special shelf space sets the limit on how many I retain.
On Wednesday I received a COVID-19 booster, and it knocked me down. I felt fine the rest of the day, but on Thursday I could barely stay awake. Even three days later, on Saturday, I was still feeling the aftereffects. Except for when I actually tested positive for the coronavirus, vaccinations had never felt this way. I was out in the yard Saturday and feeling better in the afternoon. Now a blizzard is on its way to eastern Iowa late Sunday.
I don’t think much about aging, yet signs are present. Some joints are stiffer, I need a new pair of glasses, I can’t run as well as I could. Let’s not get into my organs, yet they are changing, too. My sleep pattern is to bed early, sleep for 4-5 hours, then wake to read for an hour, and catch an additional 2 hours of light slumber. The vaccination had me sleeping through the night on Thursday, but I’m already back to the usual. A person can live with all of this. Acceptance is better than fighting it.
While at the pharmacy checking in for my shot, we discussed how the bill would be paid. By reviewing my medical records, I knew the billed cost is around $200. With billing computerization through Medicare and my supplemental insurance, the attendant could look it up on the spot. Insurance paid for all of it. Without insurance, I would likely have skipped it. If this were a reasonable country with healthcare for all, such concerns wouldn’t exist.
I checked with the household on provisions, and we can last through the blizzard. Goodness knows there is plenty of indoors work to be done, even if I would rather be outside. I wonder if less tolerance for cold temperatures is also related to aging. I wonder if I’m losing my hearing or just getting cranky. A week before spring, it’s likely some of each.
I listened to WBBM Newsradio on the drive into Chicago, just as I’ve done since the 1980s. The steady patter of headlines, weather, and traffic “on the eights” prepares you for the city — by the time the skyline is near, you’re already in tune with heavy traffic. That morning they were running a contest for tickets to Madama Butterfly at the Lyric Opera House, a bit of high culture drifting through the stream of brake lights, engine noise, and honking horns.
It had been a foggy morning, with Southwest Airlines canceling 113 flights, according to the radio. To bypass toll roads, my map application routed me through rural central Illinois, where farmers were already in the fields. Old-style telephone poles ran parallel to the highway, their double wires fading in and out of the fog. Beyond them lay tan and brown fields waiting for spring.
After reaching my destination in the western suburbs, my host put me directly to work assembling a piece of IKEA furniture. Once you learn to read the pictograms, the parts go together with ease.
It was spring-cleaning time, and I was there to help. After the IKEA project, I adjusted the rolling screen door leading to the patio, unpacked and sorted boxes of personal belongings, and helped assemble a shelving unit. It was a physically busy two days with our child near Chicago. By the time I got home, I was sore in places I didn’t know existed.
The best part of the trip was being with our child, sometimes talking and sometimes not. Working together on projects made the trip worthwhile.
After a day of driving and work, my hosts served a vegetarian curry for dinner. I enjoyed the table conversation — particularly the part about Chicago politics — and we covered how the work environment had changed and is changing. It creates a constant uncertainty, whether it is getting a resume format correct, social behavior at work, or diminished expectations for career advancement. As a member of the boomer generation, I took a bit of good-natured flak about how easy I had it. I didn’t argue. The work paradigm shifted.
I was up early the next day. The instant espresso in my travel bag helps in an unfamiliar place: I can make my own coffee while the household slumbers. The plan that day was a trip to buy groceries when Aldi opened.
Grocery shopping is different when a person doesn’t have a lot of money. When an item attracts interest, there is an immediate query into low-cost grocers like Walmart to compare prices. When the budget is tight, spending a few minutes cost-comparing is time well spent.
We wore face masks into the grocer. When money is tight, it is not worth the risk of exposure to influenza, COVID-19, or other human-transmitted diseases. Being sick means less time to earn income, and that matters.
After groceries were put away, we said our goodbyes and I got into the car — packed with boxes traveling with me into storage — and headed to the Jane Addams Memorial Tollway, westward bound. It is good to be with family, even if only a short while.
I stopped at the Belvidere Oasis which was busy and noisy with commercial drivers talking on Bluetooth devices. There was little social distance between us. I ate a large Caesar salad for lunch, then headed west.
It was raining when I started, yet the sky cleared toward the Mississippi River. WVIK Public Radio in Rock Island came into range, a marker of getting closer to home. Familiar miles passed quickly.
Entering Iowa, I turned off the radio and focused on the road ahead, taking in a landscape on the cusp of spring.
On Monday I sent emails to U.S. Senators Chuck Grassley and Joni Ernst as well as to U.S. Representative Mariannette Miller-Meeks on the subject of the U.S. aggression against Iran.
My message was simple: “I urge you to support the Kaine-Paul Senate resolution, S.J. Res. 104, the bipartisan war powers resolution that would prohibit strikes against Iran. Thank you for reading my message.” The email to Miller-Meeks referenced the House companion, the Massie-Khanna House resolution, H. Con. Res. 38.
The referenced resolutions are also simple: “Directing the President pursuant to section 5(c) of the War Powers Resolution to remove United States Armed Forces from unauthorized hostilities in the Islamic Republic of Iran.”
The vote was scheduled for Wednesday in the Senate and the votes for a simple majority were not there. The House also voted no. Now what?
Senator Grassley responded on March 6, 2026. Read his response here.
I reject the Iowa Republican position exemplified by gubernatorial candidate Brad Sherman, who wrote in part, “I support President Trump’s action against Iran. These actions are not an initiation of war, they are a response to a war already declared by Iran. This is the inevitable response to an evil regime that has openly and continually stated its goal is to destroy America and has actively sought the means to do so.” Was Iran attacking the United States? No. Is Iran an imminent threat to the United States? No. This position abandons the caution about foreign wars that once defined Iowa Republicans.
The president failed to address with the American people the reasons for attacking a sovereign country. On Monday, he said 49 top Iranian leaders had been killed, according to CBS News. The joint operation with Israel did kill key Iranian leaders. Anyone familiar with Iran’s political system knows new leadership can be approved quickly. No one I know gave the aging Ayatollahs high marks. They were easy targets for Israeli ordnance. The younger Iranian replacements will be formidable and could be worse. There has been insufficient public discussion of this.
Is the motivation to address the risk of a nuclear armed Iran with delivery systems? Give me a break. While Republican opponents of the Joint Comprehensive Plan of Action, commonly called the Iran Deal, felt it was insufficient, the agreement placed verifiable limits on Iran’s nuclear program. When the president tore up that deal, he lost standing to claim this action was about nuclear weapons.
Is the president part of God’s plan, being anointed by Jesus to light the signal fire in Iran to cause Armageddon and mark his return to Earth? The Military Religious Freedom Foundation reports receiving complaints from non-commissioned officers who say their commanders told them the Iran war is part of God’s plan and that Donald J. Trump was ‘anointed by Jesus’ to trigger Armageddon.” Read more about this here. They logged similar complaints across more than 40 different units located in at least 30 military installations. One NCO said their commander’s remarks “destroy morale and unit cohesion and are in violation of the oaths we swore to support the Constitution.” The Pentagon has not responded publicly to these allegations. Secretary of Defense Pete Hegseth should consider John Prine’s message, “Now Jesus don’t like killin’, no matter what the reason’s for. And your flag decal won’t get you into heaven any more.”
Is the Iran aggression solely to take attention away from the Epstein files? More than a few people are saying so, yet I don’t know that this war will accomplish that for the president. Maybe people in the administration can’t walk and chew gum at the same time but the American people can.
When the president admonished the people of Iran, “When we are finished, take over your government. It will be yours to take. This will be, probably, your only chance for generations,” he washed his hands of the consequences of this conflict. That is typical for Donald J. Trump.
After five planting sessions, there are seven trays of seedlings between the heat pad, grow light and table in the dining area. This year, indoor planting is proceeding well.
My foundational experience in gardening improved dramatically during the period 2013-2020 when I worked on area farms. 2026 is the year I introduced artificial intelligence into the process.
The results of ai have been surprisingly good. Because the large language model has so much information in its database, without hesitation, it can give me planting schedule adjustments, ways to use two spots on the heating pad, and two more under LED grow lights. The rest of my process from seed to seedling to greenhouse to planting has fewer uncertainties this year compared to last. Optimizing use of the heating pad has been a boon to productivity.
On the second day of March, I am of to a good start.
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