biomimicry

I asked ChatGPT “Has anyone ever compared dragonfly wings and maple samaras?.” Here was the answer:

Yes, the comparison between dragonfly wings and maple samaras has been made before, primarily due to their similar structures and aerodynamic properties. Both dragonfly wings and maple samaras (also known as “helicopter seeds” or “whirlybirds”) exhibit a type of aerodynamic design that allows them to efficiently travel through the air.

Dragonfly wings are known for their intricate network of veins, which provide strength and flexibility while also minimizing weight. Maple samaras, on the other hand, have a characteristic wing shape with a central seed or fruit attached. When maple samaras fall from trees, they spin as they descend, much like a helicopter rotor, which helps them to disperse over a wide area.

Both dragonfly wings and maple samaras utilize a combination of lift and drag to achieve controlled flight or descent. This makes them interesting subjects for comparison in terms of biomimicry and understanding aerodynamic principles in nature. Scientists and engineers often draw inspiration from such natural designs to develop innovative technologies in fields like aerospace and robotics.

sugar maple samara and dragonfly wing

P.S. Once an aerospace engineer, always an aerospace engineer.

beauty in the details

My husband’s editor is in town from NYC and staying with us. So, I have been washing sheets, and cleaning bathrooms today while my husband was having lunch with him. Yes, I know how sexist that sounds. But the truth is my husband and I have pretty good household equality, and he would do the same for me if my editor were in town. Anyway, as a result of having company today, I resorted to this sandhill crane feather from the backyard. The cranes are not yet molting (that happens in August). This was just a random lost feather, perhaps dropped during their very odd and awkward mating antics. I like how the curled edges looked like crashing waves. I also like how nature repeats itself.

sandhill crane feather

Welcome to June

May is the month of greening, and June is the month of growing. So far this year, we are ahead of seasonal-schedule here in the north. These roadside thistles are usually a mid-summer delight. My husband Steve has been recording the audio version of his book all week at a recording studio in Minneapolis. Because our son if home from school, and we need two cars, I have been driving Steve to and from the studio all week. These musk thistles have been staring at me twice a day as I exit 35W onto University Avenue. They are beside the off-ramp, where I usually have to wait for the light. I glance at them, and they stare back with their one-eyed impassivity. All week we have been eyeing each other. Today I finally remembered to put leather gloves in the car so I could invite a few stems for portrait sitting. Interestingly, they all volunteered. Apparently, even thistles yearn for their 7 seconds of fame.

musk thistle/nodding thistle (Carduus nutans)

summer’s green curtain descends

Over 15 hours of daylight now. Warm days and wet nights means summer’s green curtain has descended early.  These tiger lily stems are waist high.  I shot down on them from above. Look at all that photosynthesis, all the carbon sequestering bio-mass. And it’s still May–my favorite month. For one more day.

tops of tiger lily stems (Lilium lancifolium)

a perfect growing month

We’ve had a long stretch of warm days and rainy nights, which makes for perfect growing conditions. And that combined with our exceptionally fertile midwestern soil means that most of our perennial plants are already thigh high! Today on my walk I saw these delicate stems poking up above the ground cover. The starburst pattern of the leaves caught my attention. It reminded me of lupine. So I picked three stems which I pinched gingerly between my fingers all the way home; but by the time I got back the stems were stuck together beyond extraction, and completely wilted. I did some googling to find out what it was, and it’s name is Sticky Willy! But I was so besotted by those leaves, that I went back outside to find a single new stem, and dashed home to take it’s portrait before it melted into a limp pile of matted leaves.

sticky willy (Galium aparine)