We'll probably see more of this ...

"Inspect every piece of pseudoscience and you will find a security blanket, a thumb to suck, a skirt to hold. What does the scientist have to offer in exchange? Uncertainty! Insecurity!"

— Isaac Asimov

Here we go again:

Intelligent design (ID) is not science because it lacks empirical evidence, testability, and falsifiability—key criteria that define scientific theories. While ID proponents present it as a scientific alternative to evolution, it fundamentally mirrors biblical creationism, positing that life's complexity is the result of an unspecified intelligent cause, rather than natural processes. 

The core of ID relies on theological claims about a designer, but it avoids explicitly identifying the designer, often to bypass constitutional restrictions on promoting religion in public schools. This tactic aims to introduce religious concepts into science curricula under the guise of science, attempting to circumvent the Establishment Clause of the First Amendment, which mandates a separation of church and state in public education.

Though a longtime reader of The TalkOrigins Archive, I first read about ID at length in Robert Pennock's 2000 book Tower of Babel: The Evidence Against the New Creationism. His book was also where I first learned about The Wedge Strategy, which was drafted by the Discovery Institute in 1998. It's goal is to change American culture by shaping public policy to reflect politically conservative fundamentalist evangelical Protestant values. 

Hmmm ... where have I seen this before?

The Heritage Foundation's Project 2025 is a comprehensive initiative aimed at reshaping U.S. federal policies and governance and emphasizes the promotion of traditional values, including religious principles, within public life. This focus aligns with their broader mission to influence policy through a conservative lens, often intertwining cultural and religious considerations.

Charlatans!

Finally!

"I prefer winter and fall, when you feel the bone structure of the landscape—the loneliness of it; the dead feeling of winter. Something waits beneath it, the whole story doesn't show."

— Andrew Wyeth

After several consecutive snowstorms, we accumulated about 6 to 8 inches of light, fluffy snow—ideal for snowshoeing. But where to go? By the time I had a chance to head outside, it was late Sunday, and the sun was already sinking in the west. Then Sue had a great idea—a section of the Ice Age Trail not far from my apartment.

Here's a map of the entire 1,000-mile trail:

In case you didn't know, Wisconsin's Ice Age Trail is a 1,200-mile-long hiking trail that winds through the state, following the path of glaciers that shaped the landscape during the last Ice Age around 12,000 years ago. It showcases dramatic glacial features such as moraines, eskers, kettles, and drumlins. The trail is a National Scenic Trail, one of only 11 in the U.S., and is managed by the Ice Age Trail Alliance, the National Park Service, and the Wisconsin Department of Natural Resources.

Here's the section we decided to explore, just west of Middleton:

Sue had been here before, but not during winter. It was my first visit and possibilities for spring migration and insecting were apparent—I'll definitely return in May to check for warblers and other returning migrants. 

Which way? That way!

There were a few small flocks American Tree Sparrows that we inadvertently disturbed from their evening roosting spots. They were pretty much the only birds with the exception of a lone Dark-eyed Junco. It was getting late, so the dearth of birds wasn't much of a surprise. The excursion was more about exercise and getting in some time outdoors. 

As beautiful as the snow is, its time is limited. A prolonged period of warmer temperatures is set to arrive in our area on Sunday, gradually melting away the winter landscape. This warm spell is expected to persist for at least a week, bringing a noticeable shift in the season. 

Enjoy the winter wonderland while it lasts!

All images © 2025 Mike McDowell

Well, there you go ...

Opening Set

Nyah nyah!

You can't make me change it in my Google Earth profile! Rather than renaming the Gulf of Mexico for fleeting political reasons, why not embrace a name that acknowledges its deep geological history? The Gulf was once part of the Western Interior Seaway, a vast prehistoric ocean that split North America during the Cretaceous period. Calling it "The Great Cretaceous Gulf" would not only honor its ancient past but also highlight the natural forces that shaped the continent. Unlike arbitrary political rebrandings, this name carries a sense of grandeur and scientific legitimacy. While human politics may try to reshape reality, the tides remain indifferent, flowing as they have for millions of years.

A Barred Owl!

"I rejoice that there are owls. Let them do the idiotic and maniacal hooting for men. It is a sound admirably suited to swamps and twilight woods which no day illustrates, suggesting a vast and undeveloped nature which men have not recognized. They represent the stark twilight and unsatisfied thoughts which all have."

— Henry David Thoreau

I found my first Cedar Waxwings of the year at the crabapple trees across the street from my place. With their smooth plumage and striking markings, they make excellent photo subjects. I'd estimate the flock at around 100 individuals. I listened for any Bohemian Waxwings, as I've found them here before, but I haven't heard of any Wisconsin reports, so it seems unlikely to be an irruptive winter for them. I suppose I could always check eBird.

The under-birded Governor Nelson State Park is a fantastic spot for hiking. With its extensive trail system and location along Lake Mendota, it offers a variety of birding habitats—prairie, oak savannah, shoreline, and more—making it perfect for all kinds of birdwatching.

While tracking down a Brown Creeper, I came upon this bird ...

Someone with a dog was coming ...

But eventually went back to snoozing ...

It can be tricky to tell if an owl with its eyes closed is actually sleeping or just squinting to monitor its surroundings. Owls are known for being quite alert and often keep an eye on potential threats, even when they appear to be at rest. They may squint or slightly close their eyes to maintain awareness while seeming relaxed. However, if the owl is in a more protected or quiet spot and appears very still, it's likely resting or sleeping. If it notices movement or feels threatened, it may open its eyes or fully focus on the situation. So, while they may squint or close their eyes, they can still be quite vigilant.

Getting 15,000 to 20,000 steps on a spring or summer hike is a lot easier, but 12,000 wasn't bad given how cold it was. Still no snow, though. A system passed through over the weekend, forecasting up to 2" in our area, but it fizzled out and we didn't get any. My sister in Wausau, however, got 8" of fresh snow. I'd really like to do some snowshoeing this winter, but it's not looking promising.

All was quiet at the river, save for a rattling Belted Kingfisher ...

And sunsets can be spectacular this time of year ...

Somewhere out there, Short-eared Owls are likely gliding low over fields or grasslands. Their steady wingbeats and occasional glides make them a joy to spot, though they're not easy to find. It's always a special moment when you do catch sight of them, almost like the evening light itself guiding you to a hidden treasure in the landscape. The sunsets this time of year feel like the perfect backdrop for such moments, with the fading light adding a sense of magic to the quiet beauty of Nature. It's as if the owls and the sunsets are both reminders to pause and appreciate the fleeting, hidden wonders around us.

All images © 2025 Mike McDowell

Genius or Just Wrong?

"What the herd hates most is the one who thinks differently; it is not so much the opinion itself, but the audacity of wanting to think for themselves, something that they do not know how to do."

— Arthur Schopenhauer 

"Just remember how people who made the first big discoveries were branded as crazy, incompetent or even stupid — even in science communities."

— Some dope on the Interwebz

Ah, yes, the tiresome trope that every crank and charlatan invokes—the notion that being ridiculed or dismissed is somehow proof of their genius. Let's be clear: skepticism is the lifeblood of scientific progress, not its enemy. Those who made genuine breakthroughs—Darwin, Einstein, Pasteur—were not merely scoffed at; they demonstrated their ideas with rigor, evidence, and intellectual courage. Most of those decrying the 'closed-mindedness' of the scientific community are not persecuted visionaries—they're simply mistaken. Or worse, frauds who demand recognition without doing the work. Most dismissed theories weren't ahead of their time—they were just wrong.

SNOW = DEAD

"We are addicted to our thoughts. We cannot change anything if we cannot change our thinking."

― Santosh Kalwar

LINK: Snowy Owl seen in New Glarus has died

Of course, it could have died for any number of reasons, but paparazzi'd irruptive northern owls are put at an increased survival disadvantage, which is why I choose not to chase reported sightings or disclose the ones I find. Over the past three decades, I've witnessed far too much unethical behavior surrounding owls reported on eBird and other birding forums.

I mean, these are just the people who eBirded the New Glarus SNOW:

I've heard from those who went there and said it was a complete circus.

Here's the final photograph of the near-Middleton Snowy Owl I took before it moved on. Yeah, this is what a Snowy Owl is supposed to look like during the day—roosting:

Snowy Owl image © 2025 Mike McDowell

Farewell Deer Creek Woodlot!

"It seems to me that the natural world is the greatest source of excitement; the greatest source of visual beauty; the greatest source of intellectual interest. It is the greatest source of so much in life that makes life worth living."

— David Attenborough

These photographs were taken at the Deer Creek woodlot across the street from where I live—a little habitat oasis I've blogged about many times the past decade or so. I haven't always mentioned it specifically, but a great deal of my insect portraiture has been taken here. Whenever I've needed a quick dose of Nature, I could get out of bed, throw on field clothes and boots, grab my gear, and be immersed in insect photography within mere minutes.

Over the past decade, I've spotted more than a dozen warbler species here, various thrushes, flycatchers, and even the occasional owl. But it's also a great place for hopper insects and robber flies. It's also where I tend to find my first Six-spotted Tiger Beetle of the insecting season.

Deer Creek resembles a smaller version of the Pheasant Branch creek corridor. However, instead of being bordered by houses, it winds through a business district that spans both Middleton and Madison.

It's not a pristine or restored habitat—rather, a striking mix of native and non-native flora. Even so, from certain angles, it can evoke the feeling of being somewhere in northern Wisconsin.

But now it's gone ...

Just utterly gone!

Here's the area that was cleared out:

Curious about the work, I inquired. I found out this was done to mitigate future flooding by increasing the capacity of the pond, which you can see in the above aerial photograph. You may recall the Great Flood of 2018 in which a good share of Middleton was flooded, causing a tremendous amount of damage to homes and businesses. 

Deer Creek is a part of the Pheasant Branch Watershed, so I'm not surprised it was targeted. By expanding the pond's capacity, city engineers are aiming to reduce the risk of future overflow events, helping to better manage stormwater and protect surrounding areas. This effort is part of a broader strategy to enhance flood resilience within the Pheasant Branch Watershed, ensuring that heavy rains are less likely to cause the kind of devastation seen in 2018. 

Having said that, urbanization on a watershed increases impervious surfaces like roads and rooftops, reducing the land's ability to absorb rainwater. This leads to more stormwater runoff, erosion, and higher flood risks downstream. Development also disrupts natural water infiltration, which can lower groundwater levels and worsen flash flooding. While mitigation efforts like retention ponds help, urbanization still impacts a watershed's ability to manage floodwater.

All images © 2025 Mike McDowell

Screech!

"I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived." 

— Henry David Thoreau

The sky was overcast, but the air was mild, making for a pleasant start to the day. The first stop was a familiar spot near Pheasant Branch, where I hoped to catch sight of a Song Sparrow. As I scanned the area, flocks of tree sparrows and juncos flitted about, their subtle movements blending into the muted landscape. Then, among them, I spotted what I was looking for—a lone Song Sparrow, its presence a small but satisfying reward. Part of the joy of birding comes not just from the unexpected but also from the quiet thrill of predictability—knowing, through experience, where a particular bird is likely to be and then finding it right where you hoped.

And then onto the dreary creek corridor ...

Where I didn't predict this ...

With the help of an agitated Blue Jay, this Eastern Screech Owl (Megascops asio) was no longer a secret. The jay swooped down in a single, sharp dive-bomb, its harsh calls filling the air. The owl, perfectly still and well camouflaged in the hollow of a tree, was momentarily disturbed by the commotion. But its subtle, muted plumage had already been betrayed—the owl's presence was now unmistakable. 

While I doubt these small owls actively target Blue Jays, it's not out of the question under certain circumstances. Screech Owls primarily hunt small mammals, insects, and invertebrates, but they are opportunistic predators and will take songbirds if the opportunity arises, especially if they are hungry or if the bird is vulnerable. The jay's dive-bombing was more about protecting its territory and warning others of a potential predator. Though the owl probably posed no immediate threat to the jay, the mobbing was an instinctual response to defend against any perceived danger.

The jay eventually gave up fussing over the owl. I took this as my cue to move in closer, but with slow, cautious steps. Every movement was deliberate, making sure to avoid any rustling of leaves or snapping of twigs that might disturb the owl's quiet presence. I didn't want to risk spooking it, so I kept my distance, careful to remain as unobtrusive as possible. When I was finished taking photos, Sue and I enjoyed views of the owl through my spotting scope.

What a fun find!

Ah, February. Will there be tiger beetles next month? It's been one of the strangest winters I've experienced in all my years living in Wisconsin. While we've had a few frigid sub-zero temperatures that cut through the bones, there's been a surprising lack of snow. Usually, by now, the landscape would be blanketed in a thick layer of white, transforming the familiar into something fresh and serene. But this year, it feels as though winter has been holding back, leaving behind the cold without the beauty and stillness that snow brings. There's something about the quiet of a snowfall that I miss, the way it slows everything down and coats the world in a soft, peaceful layer.

All images © 2025 Mike McDowell

Modern Reimagining!

"The hoarder self-medicated with things the way other trauma survivors self medicate with drugs or alcohol."

― Randy Frost

Yeah, yeah ... another Stratocaster!

I recently spotted a U.S.-made olympic white Stratocaster body with a matching rosewood fretboard neck on eBay, bringing back memories of my very first Stratocaster—a 1988 American Standard. Unfortunately, that guitar is long gone, lost in a purge that left me with my 1995 American Standard as my only electric guitar. Oh, how times have changed. Here's a photo of me, likely from around 1990, playing that '88 Strat in a garage band I was in:

So skinny! Note the Pink Floyd t-shirt with Cyrillic text.

The body was an open-box item with a minor blemish:

I was able to wet-sand and buff it out—you can't even tell it was there.

For pickups, I decided to go with Seymour Duncan's Classic Stack Plus setup:

The build hit a brief snag when I realized I was given the wrong pickup wiring diagram. I reached out to Seymour Duncan online, and they quickly emailed me the correct one:

Their Liberator potentiometer requires very little soldering—wires plug directly into the pickup connector stations and are secured into place with a set screw. The only necessary soldering was done to the ground on the tremolo claw and the wires to the output jack. 

Already on-hand, I had options to install vintage tuners and bridge saddles or modern ones—I've accumulated a lot of guitar components. The original '88 had sported modern versions, but I prefer the vintage look, so that's how I set it up.

Here's the finished headstock:

And the completed Strat:

Pretty, eh? I just love it.

While the body and neck are from a Professional II series Stratocaster, I built it from parts, which saved me quite a bit of money. Did I really need it? Not at all, but it's a fantastic guitar and a joy to play. It also brings back memories of my first Strat. One day, I'll probably part with most of my collection, but for now, it's staying.

All images © 2025 Mike McDowell