Wiki Friday: Corvids, car engines, and Oregon grape

 A little Wiki Friday for you this Sunday morning.

Corvids

Crows and ravens are probably the most identifiable corvids, but the group includes jays and magpies, too. I was curious about their range: everywhere, except the southern tip of South America and the poles. Apparently they are a kind of bird called passerines, meaning that their toes are arranged such that they can perch. I have never thought about birds even having toes.

This is the best:

Young corvids have been known to play and take part in elaborate social games. Documented group games follow "king of the mountain", or "follow the leader", patterns. Other play involves the manipulation, passing, and balancing of sticks. Corvids also take part in other activities, such as sliding down smooth surfaces. 

But also this:

Magpies have been observed taking part in elaborate grieving rituals, which have been likened to human funerals, including laying grass wreaths.

Playing and grieving. Their brain-to-body ratios are like those of whales, not far from those of humans.

Car engines

You know when you just get tired of not knowing something?

Well, I watched a couple of videos, and I get the basics. I get what the four strokes refer to:

1) Intake (open, pull stuff in)

2) Compression (close, squish it all together)

3) Power stroke (a tiny explosion, creating power, opening back up)

4) Exhaust (closing again, to push stuff out)

I can also tell you that the difference between a gas and diesel engine is about compression being sufficient for that tiny explosion to happen without an external ignition source. So, there. Leave me alone.

Oregon grape

A.k.a. Mahonia aquifolium (the last part refers to its pointy leaves)

I knew that it was native to the Pacific Northwest and that the dark berries produced a dye, because I squeezed one the other day and told myself to try painting with the juice.

I did not know that the roots yield a yellow dye. That it is the state flower of Oregon. Or that indigenous people have used the berries for indigestion. Apparently you can make a wine from the berries, but it will take a lot of sugar. You can eat the berries raw after the season's first frosts. Delightful.

Wade Davis's One River

Wade Davis writes about his own ethnobotanical explorations, but he also outlines the life and work of Richard Evans Schultes, whose trajectory took a turn with a course offered by a Professor Ames: Biology 16, Plants and Human Affairs.

There were six students in the class, and in the introductory lecture Ames outlined the course requirements. In addition to the basic readings, examinations, and written assignments, there would be a practical laboratory during which the students would experiment with various plants products. They would make paper and ink, mix essential oils to create perfumes, extract sugar to produce molasses, turn fatty oils into soap, dye clothing with leaves and roots, sample rare and exotic spices, and practice the art of herbal medicine. And naturally, Ames continued, they would brew beer and distill alcohol, just as his students had done every year throughout Prohibition.

I wish I had taken this course in university.

I'm enjoying One River. Davis talks about a group of Indigenous people in Colombia who see knowledge as the goal of life. It stopped me in my reading. It reminded me of how much I love knowledge, love learning. During this COVID-19 pandemic, I feel ambivalent, though. What should I focus on learning? Even as I become a teacher, it's unclear. What will I teach? Where? What will education look like in the coming months or years?

For now, I will continue to enjoy the books I enjoy.