Oh, I see! moments
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Ireland for the Virtual Traveler

by Joyce McGreevy on March 30, 2020

Two Irish terriers by the sea and virtual visitors from across the miles help a writer in Ireland stay connected during a time of necessary social distancing and self-isolation. (Image © by Joyce McGreevy)

Dog days at the edge of Ireland.
© Joyce McGreevy

Staying Connected Across the Miles

It’s springtime, the sun has come out of hiding, and I want you to come visit. Oh, I know—these days, you can only be a virtual visitor. But now, more than ever, we need to stay connected across the miles.

Take a moment to imagine: Put on your favorite old sweater, the one with a hole in the elbow. Lace up your mud-spattered walking shoes. Pack only your five senses.

Oh, for good measure, toss in your sense of delight. Because we’re off to explore one of Ireland’s most beautiful places. Along the way, I’ve a story to tell you.

To reach Ballyshane, drive south, passing smaller and smaller towns, until you come to a certain crossroads. Yes, that one. Now, thread along ever-narrowing roads, knowing the coast of East County Cork awaits you.

A pond in Ballyshane, County Cork, Ireland is accessible to all virtual travelers as technology helps people stay connected across the miles during a time of necessary social distancing and self-isolation. (Image © by Joyce McGreevy)

A place for reflection at Ballyshane.
© Joyce McGreevy

Have the hedgerows begun thrumming with birds? Then you’re nearly there. Watch for breaks in the wild shrubbery that glimmer with hints of the sea. At last, you see old stone gates, the color of ripening apricots.

Down the long drive you go. You’re here.

You’re actually only 30 minutes from a city. But Ballyshane is a world all its own.

Which reminds me, I promised you a story.

I was already in isolation when it happened. Not that anyone called it “self-isolating” Back Then. I’d simply returned to Ireland, a place that’s long felt like home, to house-sit for a man who was traveling.

Given the remote location, it meant “social distancing.” Not that anyone called it that Back Then.

Walks with an Irish terrier in the woods and the company of virtual visitors from across the miles help a traveler self-isolating in Ireland stay connected during a time of necessary social distancing. (Image © by Joyce McGreevy)

A walk feels liberating now.
© Joyce McGreevy

But who could be lonely? I had the companionship of two Irish terriers, and the land, with its 1800s country house, was companionable in its beauty. Beyond the main house  were secluded cottages, among the most popular on Airbnb. Yet I’d been generously granted one all to myself.

A cottage in Ballyshane, County Cork, Ireland welcomes virtual visitors as people stay connected across the miles during a time of social distancing, self-isolation, and virtual travel. (Image © by Joyce McGreevy)

Stone cottage, soft sky.
© Joyce McGreevy

In between the homeowner’s travels, there were elegant yet informal gatherings. Touched to be invited, I met new friends. Because this is Ireland, some of the new friends knew some of my old friends. Even if they hadn’t, I’d never have felt lonely. Because in Ireland, conversation is something one savors along with its now-celebrated cuisine.

Rain clouds over Ballyshane, County Cork, Ireland, foreshadow a time when social distancing and self-isolation will become the norm, and virtual travelers will go online to stay connected across the miles. (Image © by Joyce McGreevy)

Storm clouds gather over Ireland.
© Joyce McGreevy

Then it happened.

The “wave” made its way across Europe, and life in Ireland changed utterly. When even the churches closed down, the gravity of the situation sank in.

Suddenly, people around the world were hurrying home or sheltering in place.  Word went out: Wherever you happen to be, stay there. Stay safe, don’t travel.

That year, I’d been all over the map. Three months in Italy. Rambles around world cities. Long days in airports, nights in airport hotels.  When Earth’s globe suddenly stopped spinning, the roulette wheel of my continuous travels could have landed me anywhere.

To my gratitude, I woke up in Ballyshane.

Come, I’ll show you around.

A garden in Ballyshane, County Cork, Ireland welcomes all virtual visitors, as loved ones become virtual travelers to stay connected across the miles during a time of social distancing and self-isolation. (Image © by Joyce McGreevy)

Gardening feels hopeful now.
© Joyce McGreevy

Here are the gardens: raised beds  of rosemary, rhubarb, cardoon, and other organic edibles. The courtyard garden filled with terracotta pots of flowering bulbs. The formal outdoor corridors of box hedge and stone sculpture. The tapestries of tender grasses, daffodils, and bluebells spread under the groves of wind-sculpted trees.

Here come Molly and Rosie, the Irish terriers.

Two Irish terriers in Ballyshane, County Cork, Ireland help a writer stay grounded during a time of self-isolation, just as virtual visits help friends and family stay connected across the miles despite social distancing. (Image © by Joyce McGreevy)

“Good morning, good morning, sweet girls!”
© Joyce McGreevy

They’ve come to take us for a walk. We’ll rove across land that fans out along the coast, then clamber down tufted hillsides where the butter-bright gorse frames the silvery canvas of the sea.

Nature’s varied flora help people self-isolating in Ireland stay grounded, and offer virtual travelers a way to stay connected across the miles, during a time of worldwide social distancing. (Image © by Joyce McGreevy)

Nature’s quilt at Ballyshane, Ireland.
© Joyce McGreevy

We can trot along to the rocky seashore, the girls’ paws picking up the pace the closer we get to the briny scent. Or move stealthily across a field of tall grass, our least step alerting the little birds who forage there. We can watch as they rise in sudden, fluttery clouds.

Speaking of birds, come see the chickens.

Chickens to be fed, fresh eggs to wash, and sharing one’s daily routine with virtual visitors from across the miles helps a traveler self-isolating in Ireland stay grounded during a time of worldwide social distancing. (Image © by Joyce McGreevy).

“Hello, ladies. Any eggs this morning?”
© Joyce McGreevy

Ah, there’s my favorite. If you’re feeling down, her bandy-legged gait will make you grin—she seems to wear feathery bloomers and pedal a penny-farthing  bicycle.

All day long, there’s satisfying work to do.  At evening, it’s quiet. Time to settle in by the fireplace, to log on, contact friends, family, neighbors, and colleagues around the world.

Daffodils at sunset in Ballyshane, County Cork, Ireland, suggest how images shared online are helping virtual visitors stay connected across the miles through virtual travel despite worldwide self-isolation and social distancing. (Image © by Joyce McGreevy)

No filter needed: Sunsets at Ballyshane, Ireland.
© Joyce McGreevy

A sunset in Ballyshane, County Cork, Ireland, posted for virtual visitors and travelers, helps people in self-isolation stay connected across the miles while maintaining social distance. (Image © by Joyce McGreevy)

We’re globally, socially distant but imaginatively gathering close together. We talk, laugh, listen, share worries and encouragement. Each virtual visit is an “Oh, I see” moment:  In a time of separation and uncertainty, words weave us back together.

It’s late. One more look at the stars, then we’ll say goodnight. But please visit me here in Ireland any time. We are all virtual travelers now, and I’ll  visit you, too—in California and Italy; Boston and Istanbul; Seattle and Seoul; New Orleans; New Zealand; wherever you are.

Starlight above an Irish cottage with a satellite dish evokes the way nature and technology support virtual travel, allowing virtual visitors to stay connected across the miles during a time of social distancing and self-isolation. (Image © by Joyce McGreevy)

Starlight & satellite: Nature and technology keep us connected.
© Joyce McGreevy

Between us, we’ll piece together the patchwork of our perforated days. Between us, we’ll remake the quilt of our shared human experience, the stories that make us whole. Because now, more than ever, we need to stay connected across the miles.

A coastal view from Ballyshane, County Cork, Ireland offers perspective to virtual visitors as people rely on virtual travel to stay connected across the miles during a time of global social distancing and self-isolation. (Image © by Joyce McGreevy)

Taking the long view at Ballyshane, Ireland.
© Joyce McGreevy

Take a virtual tour of the cottages at Ballyshane here and here.

Comment on the post below, or inspire insight with your own OIC Moment here.

Green Grow the Alleys, O!

by Joyce McGreevy on November 11, 2019

A ruelle verte, or green alley, in Montréal, Canada reflects creative problem-solving that helps the planet. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

THIS is a public alley? In Montréal, a ruelle verte (“green alley”) basks in autumn’s glow.
© Joyce McGreevy

Creative Problem-Solving, One Alley at a Time

What does the word alley bring to mind? Most likely someplace gray and utilitarian, a narrow passageway behind buildings. Perhaps it evokes unpleasantness, even menace, as in something “you wouldn’t want to encounter in a dark alley.”

But what if alleys reflected creative problem-solving? In a growing number of cities, they do. Presenting the “green alley,” an urban oasis created from what was once a concrete desert.

The seeds of this eco-friendly concept were sown in Montréal, where green alleys are known as ruelles vertes. 

Two ruelles vertes in Montréal, Canada show how creative problem-solving helps transforms desolate alleys into urban oases. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

Over 80% of Montréal residents surveyed have said “Oui!” to the Ruelle Verte project.
© Joyce McGreevy

From No-Go to Where Flowers Grow

How did gray alleys first go green? The road from urban crisis to urban oasis was long, winding, and pot-holed with missteps.

In the 1840s, Montréal’s first alleyways emerged as farmlands were subdivided into small properties. By the 1960s, 300 miles of asphalt alley snaked along the margins of the densely massed buildings. As in most cities, Montréal’s alleys were dreary corridors by day and desolate no-go zones by night.

An urban alley cluttered with trash cans and utilities is a far cry from the green alleys and show the need for creative problem-solving. (Image © Alex Borland)

This is what most of us picture when we hear the word alley.
© Alex Borland [License: CC0 Public Domain]

A Road Paved with Good Intentions

In 1968, five Canadian architecture students with utopian visions set off for an alley in an impoverished Montréal neighborhood. They would install a flowerbed! Paint the walls! Inspire residents to sustain the makeover!

Alas, like the proverbial road paved with good intentions, the results were less than heavenly.

A 1969 documentary film, Les fleurs c’est pour Rosemont, captures the social and class tensions between privileged outsiders who meant well and hardworking locals who were focused on meeting primary needs, not adding primary colors.

Without grassroots engagement, the goal of green alleys had hit a dead end.

Or had it?

Autumn leaves covering a city street humorously suggest that nature’s presence is a reminder to apply creative problem-solving to urban spaces. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

In Montréal, nature has a way of making its presence known  . . .
© Joyce McGreevy

A Grassroots Response

With every showing, Jacques Giraldeau’s documentary raised the topic anew, prompting lively discussion and engaging diverse perspectives.

Over time, this inspired a more considered approach at a grassroots level. Residents of the same block began talking things over. Who knew better than they the problems and potential of their alleys?

A group of people carrying flowering plants to a city street evokes our need to apply creative problem-solving to urban spaces. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

As neighbors met, ideas began to flower.
© Joyce McGreevy

Together, they came up with proposals and secured the support of city officials. Together, they pooled their resources to turn creative thinking into practical magic.

In 1995, Montréal’s first official ruelle verte opened.

Today, Montréal has 350 green alleys—urban oases where children play, neighbors gather, and visitors find inspiration.

And just as the wind scatters seeds to create new growth, the Montréal model spread to cities around the world.

A collage of plants from a ruelle verte in Montréal, Canada shows how creative problem-solving through green alleys supports wildlife and biodiversity. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

Green alleys bring biodiversity into tight urban spaces.
© Joyce McGreevy

More than a Pretty Space

The reasons to revitalize urban alleys go way beyond “outdoor décor.” Green alleys replace asphalt with permeable paving and organic materials. So along with beautification, green alleys make city life better by

  • reducing the “heat island” effect
  • allowing storm water to filter back into the ground
  • improving air quality
  • increasing plant biodiversity
  • providing habitat for birds and insects
  • reinvigorating pedestrian activity
  • encouraging bicycling
  • reducing traffic
  • providing places for children to play
  • fostering increased sociability
  • supporting urban agriculture, one of the factors in erasing “food deserts,” areas where it is difficult to buy affordable, fresh food
  • improving a city’s global livability rating
A collage of children’s toys and invitations to come play, seen on a ruelle verte in Montréal, Canada show how creative problem-solving through green alleys improves children's quality of life. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

Hand-painted signs in a ruelle verte invite neighborhood kids to come and play.
© Joyce McGreevy

Green Alley, U.S.A.

In the United States, Michigan is home to one of the most remarkable green-alley transformations. Detroit’s Green Alley, created in 2008-2010 as the city was emerging from bankruptcy, turned a desolate “stretch of pavement, dumpsters, and dreams that had long since broken down” into an oasis that brings together people, nature, and the arts.

Several other cities are following suit—among them Chicago, Los Angeles, Omaha, Austin, and Nashville.  You can see a Los Angeles neighborhood “green team” in action here.

Colorful laundry in a ruelle verte, or green alley, in Montréal, Canada reflects creative problem-solving that makes everyday life better. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

The goal of green alleys is not to gentrify, but to make life better citywide.
© Joyce McGreevy

Seeds of Possibility

Given the vastness of public lands and waterways, how important is it to make better use of alleys? By 2050, 75 percent of the world’s population will be living in cities.

How much of an impact could green alleys make? Consider that Chicago alone has 1,900 miles of alleyway to work with. Now factor in that nearly every city in the world (with notable exceptions) is crisscrossed with alleyways.

Yes, cities still need somewhere to put out the garbage. More to the point, say urban environmentalists, we need to reduce waste itself. This has become another focus of creative problem-solving.

According to Daniel Toole, author of Tight Urbanism, Alley Architecture in the U.S., Australia, and Japan, “As waste collection becomes more effective . . . [alleys] present a ridiculous amount of space to be used simply for waste conveyance.”

Oh, I see: For Earth’s sake, even an alley is too precious to waste.

An old metal tub used as a planter and a wall of painted bricks on a ruelle verte in Montréal, Canada show how creative problem-solving through green alleys promotes recycling. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

Found objects & recycled resources dress up an alley.
© Joyce McGreevy

Is there a “green alley” near you? Have you seen green alleys in your travels? Have you and your neighbors ever worked together to transform a common outdoor area into a greener, more inviting public space? If so, please share your experiences with our readers!

Comment on the post below, or inspire insight with your own OIC Moment here.

The Art of Cloud Watching

by Meredith Mullins on March 4, 2019

Altocumulus clouds at sunset near Yosemite National Park in California, traveling the world while cloud watching. (Image © Meredith Mullins.)

Keep looking up
© Meredith Mullins

Looking Up . . . While Traveling the World

It all started with a mackerel sky—a real-life Magritte painting that rose up in splendor near the foothills of the California Sierra.

I had never seen anything like it before. A sky filled with cotton balls. Dancing sheep. Wayward popcorn.

 

A mackerel sky (altocumulus clouds) near Yosemite National Park in California, traveling the world while cloud watching. (Image © Meredith Mullins.)

My first mackerel sky
© Meredith Mullins

I posted the photo on Facebook, feeling like a humble human proud to share the poetic beauty of nature with the world.

It was then I realized I must be cloud deprived. It seemed that most of my friends had seen plenty of mackerel skies before (and even had “altocumulus” at the tip of their tongue). I was clearly behind on the cloud curve.

A lenticular cloud, cloud watching while traveling in the world. (Image © DMT.)

The lenticular UFO shaped cloud, often found near mountains
© DMT

They had also, in the tradition of Facebook bragging, been privy to some magically dramatic cloud formations, like the lenticular UFO shaped clouds and the mysterious “hole in the sky.” They posted photos that led me into a new world.

Cloud called Fallstreak Hole, cloud watching while traveling the world. (Image © Eric Pearson.)

A hole in the sky?
© Eric Pearson

Where had I been? When traveling the world, had I failed to look up? Had I failed to realize that clouds are a constantly changing show in whatever country you’re in? And, “Oh, I see.” Even now, their shapes and the interplay with light and color pave the way for flights of the imagination, just as they did when we were kids.

Storm cloud shaped like a bull, cloud watching while traveling the world. (Image © Eric Pearson.)

A giant angry bull?
© Eric Pearson

Being One with the Sky

Most of us can remember staring at the sky for hours when we were young, seeing perky poodles, dancing bears, scaly dinosaurs, and exploding volcanoes floating through the atmosphere.

We feel nostalgia for the time spent lying on the grass making up storylines as the crisp-edged cumulus clouds gracefully changed shape and form.

Cloud shaped like a baby elephant, cloud watching while traveling the world. (Image © DMT.)

Clearly a baby elephant trying to stand up
© DMT

As Gavin Pretor-Pinney, the founder of the Cloud Appreciation Society, recalls, we were “masters of daydreaming.”

Why not return to that state of bliss?

Animal shaped cloud resembling a bear, cloud watching while traveling the world. (Image © Robert Ax/iStock.)

What animal is peeking out from the clouds?
© Robert Ax/iStock

Pretor-Pinney urges us to return to those childhood days of letting our imagination run wild. Nature’s Rorschach test. What exactly do we see (and why?) when these cloud shapes are forming?

Clouds shaped like a crocodile eating a python, cloud watching while traveling the world. (Image © DMT.)

A crocodile eating a python? You be the judge.
© DMT

“Cloudwatching legitimizes doing nothing,” Pretor-Pinney says. It gives us a chance to take a break from “perpetual busy-ness.” We don’t have to work or tweet or Instagram every moment of the day. We can just meditate on the beauty of the sky. It’s good for the soul.

A cloud at sunset, as seen while cloud watching while traveling the world. (Image © DMT.)

Looking at clouds from all sides now
© DMT

Joni Mitchell encouraged us to look at clouds from both sides now, and The Rolling Stones demanded that we get off of THEIR cloud (“hey you”). But clouds rarely become the main attraction in today’s busy world.

For many people, clouds seem to be visual white noise, a stage-set background for some bigger and better main character. Something less ephemeral.

But clouds can be a main act.

Cloud in the shape of a fish, cloud watching while traveling the world. (Image © Germi_p/iStock.)

What do you see here?
© Germi_p/iStock

The Science of Clouds

Not all cloudwatching is aimless, however. Clouds give us much information about what weather changes might be coming.

We learned the ten main cloud types in grade school.

Cumulus clouds are the puffy fair-weather clouds that often inspire creative interpretation. They grow into animals, people, and symbols, contained only by the limits of imagination.

Cumulus clouds, part of cloud watching while traveling the world. (Image © DMT.)

Cumulus clouds . . . ready for the imagination
© DMT

Altocumulus clouds (white or gray clumps or rolls) produce the most dramatic and artistic cloudscapes, especially when the sun is low in the sky.

Altocumulus clouds, as seen when cloud watching while traveling the world. (Image © DMT.)

Altocumulus clouds
© DMT

Cirrus clouds look like delicate brushstrokes or wisps of hair (cirrus is Latin for “curl of hair”). This type of cloud can be the first sign of moisture developing and can mean rain in the future.

Cirrus clouds, as seen when cloud watching while traveling the world. (Image © DMT.)

Cirrus clouds
© DMT

The subtle Cirrostratus and Cirrocumulus are layers of ice crystals high in the sky, so shapes and edges are not common in these formations.

Cirrocumulus clouds, cloud watching while traveling the world. (Image © Meredith Mullins.)

Cirrocumulus clouds
© Meredith Mullins

Some of the low-lying and mid-level gray layer clouds are not as dramatic or popular. Stratus clouds bring fog, Altostratus bring drizzle, and Nimbostratus bring rain.

Stratocumulus is another cloud type destined to lose the popularity contest. It’s the most widespread of cloud types and usually brings overcast days.

We get more dramatic when the Cumulonimbus clouds form—skyscrapers of power announcing a coming storm.

Storm clouds, cumulonimbus, above a hill, cloud watching while traveling the world. (Image © DMT.)

A storm is brewing.
© DMT

A Small World

Somehow, when we realize that every human can look upward and see the same kinds of cloud formations around the world, it unifies us as a planet.

Cloudwatching is something anyone can do. There is no cost. It’s egalitarian.

The clouds may change while traveling around the world—depending on the season, the weather, and the land or sea forms under the clouds. But . . . the sky is everywhere.

All we have to do is to keep looking up.

A sunset with lighthouse, cloud watching while traveling the world. (Image © DMT.)

Sometimes the beauty defies science.
© DMT

OIC Moments welcomes your best cloud photos to inspire our further cloud appreciation. Please share them in the “Comments” section of the OIC Moments Facebook Page.

Find out more about the Cloud Appreciation Society, and view Gavin Pretor-Pinney’s Ted Talk. You can also get a cloudspot app for your phone if you want to become an avid cloud collector.

 For an additional cloudspotting guide, visit the BBC Guide or the Met Office.

Comment on this post below, or inspire insight with your own OIC Moment here.

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