Great Balls of Dung, and Other Surprises
When Augusto showed me the kumquat-sized ball of dried manure, I gave a gasp of delight much like the one I make when someone hands me a plate of chocolate-chip cookies. I took it from him and rolled it around in my palm to better appreciate a masterful example of excremental architecture. This little poop souvenir was exactly what I had come here for.
Red Dirt Diary #4
The morning mist is thick and low on the ground. I’m guessing relative humidity of 100%. Vapor pressure deficit 0 kPa. Transpiration 0 mm/s. I can’t even see Pedro and Jonatas as they put together a tripod on the far end of the field. I can only hear the clunks and clangs of the aluminum pipes as they slide into the iron tripod joint.
In Defense of Non-Defense
Read the original op-ed in the Ocala Star Banner
Red Dirt Diary #2
Finally, the wind started to blow. It probably meant rain, which of course, was not so great for my experiment. But it also meant that the insupportable humidity was blown away and the temperature finally dropped. I could move again. I rolled down the window and stuck my face out like a happy puppy as we trundled down the pot-holed road to the experiment.