Green Bean Dreams's blog http://www.blogher.com/blog/36146/atom/feed 2008-08-13T14:05:04-05:00 Lighting the Night http://www.blogher.com/lighting-night 2008-09-05T11:23:26-05:00 2008-09-05T19:33:22-05:00 Green Bean Dreams It was a late Monday night and I walked a visiting friend to her car. Suddenly, my companion looked up at the clear sky - the stars shimmering against the black night - and inhaled. "Wow, you don't have much light pollution around here," she admired. I had never heard that term before but agreed nonetheless taking in the distant stars and planets. I waved goodbye and went inside, leaving my porch light on.

]]> It was a late Monday night and I walked a visiting friend to her car. Suddenly, my companion looked up at the clear sky - the stars shimmering against the black night - and inhaled. "Wow, you don't have much light pollution around here," she admired. I had never heard that term before but agreed nonetheless taking in the distant stars and planets. I waved goodbye and went inside, leaving my porch light on. Home safety experts sometimes advise leaving outdoor lights on at night to deter unsavory sorts from skulking about. I have diligently left my light on for years for that very purpose. In a nod to living lighter, I long ago replaced the incandescent bulb that burnt out monthly with a long lasting CFL bulb. I've since learned, though, that there is no evidence that artificial lighting deters criminal activity. Moreover, such lighting can create deeper shadows in which criminals might hide. If safety concerns remain, motion detectors and other strategies are more efficient and effective.

I never gave another thought to my friend's comment about light pollution until I came across an article about it last week. Apparently, lights left on at night, like porch lights and office lights, greatly impact the population of migratory birds which use the stars to navigate. These birds often become disoriented by the plethora of lights in cities and densely populated suburbs, like mine. Indeed, as many as 900 million birds crash into buildings annually because they are confused by the bright lights. Moreover, night lights negatively affect turtle hatchlings, salamanders, and juvenile seabirds to name a few. It's not just the animals who don't react so well to night-time lights. Light pollution has been linked to breast cancer and insomnia.

The more I learn about leaving my light on, the more reasons I encounter to turn it off. From now on, I'll give my porch light, my electricity bill, the birds and myself a rest and leave the job of lighting the night to the stars and moon.

]]> Planes, Trains and Automobiles http://www.blogher.com/planes-trains-and-automobiles 2008-08-13T14:05:04-05:00 2008-08-13T14:05:04-05:00 Green Bean Dreams We make our home on the crowded San Francisco Peninsula. Our houses and
shops press together like clothes in a too-full closet. Our streets are a flurry
of trucks, cars, bicycles, and buses. Farmers markets abound and a pristine,
double decker train, CalTrain, totes us up to the City or down to San Jose. When I
worked in San Francisco, years ago, I took the train regularly. On the ride,

]]> We make our home on the crowded San Francisco Peninsula. Our houses and
shops press together like clothes in a too-full closet. Our streets are a flurry
of trucks, cars, bicycles, and buses. Farmers markets abound and a pristine,
double decker train, CalTrain, totes us up to the City or down to San Jose. When I
worked in San Francisco, years ago, I took the train regularly. On the ride,
I'd prepare for work, read a book, or close my eyes and listen to the rails
click gently past. More recently, I've turned to the train for regeneration
as another year ticked by or loaded my boys on it bound for adventure and ball
games.

CalTrain is tame. It is less empty than it once was but the seats are spacious, the upper decks peer over the Bay, green fields and scrap yards as the train lumbers toward San Francisco. In Disney-speak, CalTrain is the Monorail. It is clean, considerate, conciliatory.

If CalTrain is the Monorail, then BART is surely the Matterhorn. At least, that is what my boys dubbed it when we boarded BART for the first time last weekend. BART is dark and jerky. It screams and hollers - like the Abominable Snowman - as it rockets through black tunnels. Riders are stuffed together, packed in like thrill-seekers on a roller coaster ride, jolted at each stop and corner. Stations are dimly lit and hint at the dark, mysterious trip ahead. The tunnels stretch further and further until you are thundering under the opaque waters of the Bay and then, mystically, emerge into daylight. Your ears pop and your children wonder when we can ride the BART train again.

It is difficult, after such adventures, to usher everyone back into the car, the strapped seats, the smooth rolling ride where only other cars, not legendary monsters, lurk out of sight. Here, we are shielded from one another with closed windows and separate lanes. There is no people watching, no shared
smiles as a boy on the opposite side of the train waves his Thomas toy in your
direction, no reading books with two boys snuggled in your lap. You simply move
from destination to destination. The journey is not worthy of mention.

Our trips by CalTrain and BART take only moments longer than by car. They
yield much more though: gas saved, carbon emissions curbed, a sense of peace
that cannot be located behind the wheel, and days of discussion about planes,
trains and automobiles.

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