1.15.2025

Panpsychism

"If you are familiar with the idea of panpsychism, you know it suggests all things within the universe have a mind or mind-like qualities. This is something I believe to be true. I believe everything has consciousness which exists within a range. This range is based on the complexity of the system it is experiencing itself through. Organisms like humans are fairly complex and have a range of senses which allow them to navigate the universe, creating the human experience."

— Anonymous
Ah, panpsychism—a quaint and wonderfully convenient hypothesis that attempts to reframe the entire Universe as imbued with consciousness. It's not science, my readers, it's one of the latest incarnations of a religious impulse dressed up in pseudo-scientific jargon. The suggestion that every atom, proton, or neutron in the cosmos possesses consciousness is nothing more than an extension of that age-old desire to make the Universe personal. Once upon a time, it was a divine being or a cosmic soul that imbued all things with meaning. Now, it's a universe-wide consciousness. But let's not kid ourselves: this is an argument that owes more to mysticism than to any established principles of science. At its heart, it seeks to humanize the very fabric of reality, a move that serves little purpose other than to make us feel more important than we are.

And, of course, we must address the glaring flaw in this theory—the Fallacy of Division. Just because we understand that the Universe rendered intelligent or mindful entities does not mean that every part of it shares in this trait. That would be like claiming that because a complex, functioning organism is aware, every cell within it must also be aware. It's simply not true. The fallacy of division is the misguided belief that the properties of a whole can be transferred uncritically to its parts, an idea that is absurd on its face.

In the end, panpsychism is a deeply flawed fantasy that requires us to suspend the basic tenets of reason. It posits an all-encompassing consciousness that, by sheer force of wishful thinking, imbues everything—protons, trees, and galaxies alike—with a semblance of sentience. It's a fallacy that hinges on a misunderstanding of the relationship between parts and wholes. Again, let's not kid ourselves into thinking this is anything more than a grandiose attempt to solve the mystery of consciousness by baptizing the entire Universe in the waters of mind. The Universe is not conscious, nor are the particles within it. The suggestion that it is is a nice myth, but it remains nothing more than that—a myth.

I must add a word on the perennial misstep of lay writers—those enthusiastic amateurs who, in their desperate attempt to reconcile the mystery of the cosmos with their own narrow understanding, drag quantum physics into the mix as if it were some sort of cosmic magic trick. These individuals, in their ignorance, seize upon terms like "quantum" and "waveforms" as though they possess some mystical power to lend credence to any half-baked philosophical speculation. The truth is, quantum physics is notoriously complex and, far from providing us with a neat explanation of reality, it often confounds and challenges our most fundamental intuitions. Yet, somehow, these writers—having read a few pop science books—believe themselves to have unlocked the secret of existence, weaving together bits of quantum theory with their own woolly spiritual musings. They fall prey to the temptation of applying quantum mechanics, a field that remains deeply counterintuitive, to every loose and unprovable idea they have about the Universe. But the reality is that quantum physics does not work the way these amateurs suggest; it is not some cosmic force that bends reality to our subjective desires. Far from it. It is a domain of knowledge that operates on its own complex terms, terms that cannot be simplified for the sake of a pleasing narrative.

In their attempts to unify quantum mechanics with human experience, these writers end up doing a disservice to both. Quantum physics, despite its awe-inspiring discoveries, doesn't suddenly grant us a coherent, all-encompassing worldview. It doesn't support the idea that everything is conscious or that the universe has a cosmic mind. Instead, it remains a branch of science that offers a glimpse into the very strange behavior of particles at the subatomic level, where the rules of classical physics break down and probability reigns supreme. To extrapolate from this that consciousness is somehow inherent in everything—from a single atom to the cosmos as a whole—is a profound misunderstanding of the science, and, frankly, a dangerous overreach. It is a distortion of the very science they claim to revere, twisting it into an idealistic narrative that is both speculative and unfounded.

So let's be clear: quantum mechanics does not provide the foundation for these grand, metaphysical flights of fancy. It offers a window into the deeply puzzling and bizarre nature of reality, but it does not hand us the keys to some universal consciousness or panpsychism. The failure of these lay writers is to see quantum theory not as a complex, rigorous science but as a tool to rationalize their own unsubstantiated beliefs. And in doing so, they perpetuate the myth that science and spirituality are somehow seamlessly intertwined when, in fact, they are distinct domains, each with its own methods and principles. What these writers are doing is nothing more than Deepak Chopra brand charlatanism, peddling a slick, pseudo-scientific blend of mysticism and quantum jargon that sounds profound, but in reality, is nothing more than vapid nonsense wrapped in the guise of intellectualism.

1.13.2025

Chase!

Why, hello Mr. White Wagtail—I nearly forgot that you were there.

But they didn't ...

2025-01-01 1 Alex O’Brien
2025-01-01 1 Amanda Matzke
2025-01-01 1 Annette McClellan
2025-01-01 1 Badgerland Birding
2025-01-01 1 Braden Ribbens
2025-01-01 1 Brent Daggett
2025-01-01 1 Brett Roberts
2025-01-01 1 Brian Kennedy
2025-01-01 1 Candace Evans
2025-01-01 1 Carrie Borofka
2025-01-01 1 Christine Williamson
2025-01-01 1 Colette and Kris Jungbluth
2025-01-01 1 Dan Abel
2025-01-01 1 David Larson
2025-01-01 1 Derek Sallmann
2025-01-01 1 Edwin Wilke
2025-01-01 1 Emily Hjalmarson
2025-01-01 1 Eric Howe
2025-01-01 1 Erin LeFevre
2025-01-01 1 Geoffrey A. Williamson
2025-01-01 1 Heath Kennedy
2025-01-01 1 Ira Blau
2025-01-01 1 Jennie Lanzendorf
2025-01-01 1 John Whipple
2025-01-01 1 Johnny Whipple
2025-01-01 1 Jon Roti Roti
2025-01-01 1 Joshua Vincent
2025-01-01 1 Justin Reed
2025-01-01 1 Kirsten Larson
2025-01-01 1 Kristin Wegner
2025-01-01 1 Marty Evanson
2025-01-01 1 Matthew Courchane
2025-01-01 1 Rick Anderson
2025-01-01 1 Riley Marinelli
2025-01-01 1 Rush Evans
2025-01-01 1 Ryan Sallmann
2025-01-01 1 Samuel Fuchs
2025-01-01 1 Sophie Kennedy
2025-01-01 1 Sunny Zhang
2025-01-01 1 Sunny Zhang
2025-01-01 1 Tiffany McBrien
2025-01-01 1 William McClellan
2025-01-01 1 Zach McClay
2025-01-02 1 Alec Anderson
2025-01-02 1 Annie Mueller
2025-01-02 1 Bode Thompson
2025-01-02 1 Brian Schneider
2025-01-02 1 Candace Evans
2025-01-02 1 Courtney Woods
2025-01-02 1 Dave&Kerry Sehloff
2025-01-02 1 David Johnson
2025-01-02 1 David Thompson
2025-01-02 1 Eric Konkol
2025-01-02 1 Jade Arneson
2025-01-02 1 James Johnson
2025-01-02 1 Joan Campbell
2025-01-02 1 Juniper Vane
2025-01-02 1 Lynn Barber
2025-01-02 1 Nathan Hyde
2025-01-02 1 Neal Halstead
2025-01-02 1 Rush Evans
2025-01-02 1 Ruth Smith
2025-01-02 1 Sandra Pearson
2025-01-02 1 Spence Stehno
2025-01-03 1 Barb Ottum
2025-01-03 1 Betsy Bartelt
2025-01-03 1 Guy Williams
2025-01-03 1 Karen Williams
2025-01-03 1 Landon Books
2025-01-03 1 Norb Wolter
2025-01-03 1 Raymie Miller
2025-01-04 1 Aaron Haycraft
2025-01-04 1 Andrew S
2025-01-04 1 Anonymous eBirder
2025-01-04 1 Anonymous eBirder
2025-01-04 1 Anonymous eBirder
2025-01-04 1 Candace Evans
2025-01-04 1 Charlotte Pavelka & Doug Reitz
2025-01-04 1 Charlotte Pavelka & Doug Reitz
2025-01-04 1 Claire Werner
2025-01-04 1 Jenna Walton
2025-01-04 1 Jessica Hilt
2025-01-04 1 Jody Sperduto
2025-01-04 1 Joe McDonnell
2025-01-04 1 John Pradarelli
2025-01-04 1 Jude Vickery
2025-01-04 1 Kenner Dull
2025-01-04 1 Morley Remitz
2025-01-04 1 Nicholas Walton
2025-01-04 1 Reese Widowski
2025-01-04 1 Rush Evans
2025-01-04 1 Ryan Jones
2025-01-04 1 Sophia Sperduto
2025-01-04 1 Susan Haug
2025-01-04 1 Todd Mitchell
2025-01-05 1 Chucky Wensel
2025-01-05 1 KW Hammerberg
2025-01-05 1 Michael O'Boyle
2025-01-05 1 Ross Hoerman
2025-01-05 1 Shannon Radtke
2025-01-06 1 Jerry Hampton
2025-01-06 1 Nick Paarlberg
2025-01-06 1 Stephen Hurst
2025-01-06 1 Stephen Hurst
2025-01-06 1 Tim Bassing
2025-01-07 1 Christin Grasch
2025-01-07 1 Gayle Davis
2025-01-08 1 Brian Healy
2025-01-08 1 Deb Ford
2025-01-08 1 Richard Hugel
2025-01-08 1 Shaun Putz
2025-01-09 1 Andy Lasar
2025-01-09 1 Brett Hoffman
2025-01-09 1 Dan Scheiman
2025-01-09 1 Joseph Phipps
2025-01-09 1 Kevin Manley
2025-01-09 1 Kristy Larson
2025-01-09 1 Rachel Sullivan
2025-01-09 1 Scott Lewis
2025-01-10 1 Andy Galvin
2025-01-10 1 Bella Swirth
2025-01-10 1 Betty Graham
2025-01-10 1 CiCi Birnberg
2025-01-10 1 Daniel Rawley
2025-01-10 1 Jessica Coss
2025-01-10 1 Rebekkah LaBlue
2025-01-11 1 Bonnie Lunde
2025-01-11 1 Brynja Davis
2025-01-11 1 Candace Evans
2025-01-11 1 Craig Taylor
2025-01-11 1 David Peterson
2025-01-11 1 Douglas Kieser
2025-01-11 1 Jessica Radtke
2025-01-11 1 Margie Amato
2025-01-11 1 Matthew Schaut
2025-01-11 1 Nathan Goldberg
2025-01-11 1 Rhoda Johnson
2025-01-11 1 Rush Evans
2025-01-11 1 Steve Rohde
2025-01-12 1 Austin Beard
2025-01-12 1 Herky Birder
2025-01-12 1 K K
2025-01-12 1 Trinity Lukasik

1.12.2025

Bluebirds!

"The faster one goes, the more strain there is on the senses, the more they fail to take in, the more confusion they must tolerate or gloss over, and the longer it takes to bring the mind to a stop in the presence of anything."

— Wendell Berry, An Entrance to the Woods
With a fresh snowfall and a sky unspoiled by the usual midwinter drear, a hike at Pope Farm Conservancy was not merely a chance to stretch the legs, but an opportunity to engage with the world at its most candid. The birding, too, was a different pursuit. It's far too easy to fall into the trap of accumulating species for the sake of a list, as if the birds themselves were little more than a series of checkboxes. Yet, the true reward lies in observing these creatures with the attention they deserve, understanding their habits and quirks, not as objects to be catalogued but as part of the broader narrative of life. This, I suppose, is what we miss when we race from one sighting to the next: the quiet richness of simply being present.
Along the northern edge of the prairie, where the trees meet the open expanse, a very vocal Tufted Titmouse made its presence known, hopping from branch to branch with an almost theatrical air. Nearby, a small flock of Eastern Bluebirds added a splash of color to the wintry landscape, their vibrant plumage stark against the subdued tones of the snow-covered ground. There was something almost poetic about their quiet gathering, a reminder that even in the starkest of seasons, life persists in vivid detail.
These were probably the same Eastern Bluebirds I saw here on Christmas Day, feeding on this particular cedar's berries. They'll rely on these berries as a crucial food source to get through the cold days, and it's clear they've found this spot to be a reliable place for nourishment—a reminder of how the birds adapt to the harsh winter, relying on what little resources are available. Bluish in color, the berries are actually modified cones—small, fleshy, and packed with seeds. 
As weather in Wisconsin goes, it didn't take long for clouds to move in and cover the blue sky, replacing the clear expanse with a more subdued gray. The shift in light made the scene feel quieter, as if the landscape itself was settling in for a colder stretch. The birds, undeterred, continued their foraging, as though they, too, were attuned to the changing mood of the day.
Shhhriiiike!
Other weekend first-of-year birds included several Golden-crowned Kinglets, Yellow-bellied Sapsucker, Northern Flicker, and a Winter Wren. I found a Northern Shrike last week, which was notable since they seem to be less common this winter. While not exactly rare, sightings have been fewer, making this encounter stand out in an otherwise quiet season. 

Shrikes so far for this year around Dane County:
All images © 2025 Mike McDowell

1.06.2025

Cold & Ice!

"Reject your sense of injury and the injury itself disappears."

― Marcus Aurelius
"What the heck is that guy doing? He's gonna get hurt!"

Maybe! But I do, on occasion, take unnecessary risks for my art. 
I crouched in the bitter cold to capture these mesmerizing ice baubles that cling to the edges of flowing water, sculpted by Nature. The creek isn't very deep, but it's never the depth that kills you—it's the headlong tumble, the unforgiving impact. I often flirt with unnecessary risks for the perfect shot, a truth I embrace with a mix of pride and caution.
In other news, my 2025 non-list birding list is starting to take shape. I'm doing well with strigiformes and emberizids, though nothing particularly remarkable has shown up yet. Meanwhile, Dane County's "Reliables" have taken a strong lead in that competitive birding thing. However, some of them still struggle to identify a House Wren or American Goldfinch by their vocalizations, while others can't tell a Baltimore Oriole feather from a Northern Flicker's. It seems like a few of them might be better at reading maps and driving a car than at actual birding.
All images © 2025 Mike McDowell

1.04.2025

[X] Snowy Owl

In stark contrast to the New Glarus bird, here's the unharassed, unmolested, unpaparazzi'd Snowy Owl. 

And that's just this year!

Snowy Owl image © 2025 Mike McDowell

1.01.2025

Let the Listing Begin!

 [X] American Crow

12.29.2024

Final Outings for 2024

"Expert birders learn to look at birds differently—they look longer and more closely than most birders. They form an initial impression, but they then divorce themselves from it to look at it anew, always double-checking. Their mindset changes from being about making the call first, to being about getting it right in the end. Expert birders are often the ones that forgo an emotional response to a rarity in favor of a rational examination of the situation. Instead of saying ‘got it’, and quickly ticking off a rarity on their lists, they identify the bird for themselves, sometimes coming to a different (and often unpopular!) conclusion."

— Brian Sullivan
As I close out another year of nature blogging, I find myself reflecting on how much has changed. 2025 will mark two decades of this journey, and over the years, the blog has grown and evolved along with me. My interests have shifted, friendships have transformed, and even my approach to photography has seen its share of changes. As a birder, I see my journey divided into three distinct eras, each marking a significant transition in the way I approach birding and the kind of birder I've become today:

  • Solitary birding at Pheasant Branch (ended around 1998).
  • Wisconsin Birding Network (ended with Facebook, 2008).
  • Eagle Optics (ended with its closing in 2017).

After an eight-year setback in the budding metropolis of Wausau, I moved back to the Madison area in 1985 but didn't discover Pheasant Branch until 1987. For nearly a decade, I explored the area mostly on my own, until I came across the Wisconsin Birding Network WISBIRDN. Submitting regular reports transformed my experience of spring and fall migrations along the creek corridor. While Pheasant Branch remains a favorite spot for many birders, I can't help but feel it's not what it once was—bird populations have declined, and I think birds there would thrived better if it was left more untamed and feral. Paving the trail came with benefits and detriments. 

Without diving too deeply into a critique of modern birding and birders, WISBIRDN had its share of issues—chasing, stringing, arguments, and other behaviors that often brought out the worst in people. In hindsight, I somewhat regret stumbling across WISBIRDN, though it was likely inevitable. Moving to social media only amplified things I dislike about contemporary birding. 

My time at Eagle Optics was a birding zenith of sorts. It rendered opportunities to travel to places like South Texas, Southeast Arizona, Florida, and many other states. I had gone to several birding festivals like the Rio Grande, Space Coast, and Midwest Birding Symposium. This era coincided with my digiscoping efforts, avian advocacy group memberships, various social media experiments (this blog, for one), field trips (leading and attending), optics snobbery, accolades, awards, etc. I even got to go birding with David Allen Sibley—what an honor that was!

Not much has changed since 2017. As you know, I've shifted my focus more toward tiger beetles and other insects, though I still enjoy birding—now primarily with a small group of kindred spirits. I haven't quite defined this fourth and current era, but its relaxed pace and comforts feel reminiscent of the first. Blending fieldwork, professional pursuits, and regular reading, this blog's name, Máistir Nádúraí, feels more fitting than ever. In can be translated from Irish to Master of Nature or Master Naturalist

In a digression, I've long felt that today's Master Naturalist programs are a clever con dressed in the guise of environmental education. With fees that border on the absurd, they promise mastery but deliver little more than a few superficial tidbits on flora and fauna, hardly enough to warrant the title. The program's real genius lies not in imparting profound knowledge, but in leveraging your labor as a volunteer to prop up its underwhelming curriculum. For a price, you get an entry-level understanding of Nature, but no genuine expertise. It's a system that capitalizes on well-meaning individuals, turning them into unpaid drones, all while offering a certification that amounts to little more than a certificate of compliance. 

Right? You can freely disagree, if you like.

So, here we are at the close of 2024. For my unofficial record, I didn’t pursue Cow Path or Long-lipped tiger beetles, so once again, my annual total is 14 out of Wisconsin's 16 species. As for birding, I started the year with a 2024 list but let it go at some point. I'd estimate around 220 species, mostly from Dane County, with a solid number from Sauk.

With apologies to Walt Whitman ...

When I heard the learn'd ornithologist,
When the field notes, the data, were lined in neat rows before me,
When I was shown the maps and graphs, to track, count, and analyze them,
When sitting I heard them as they lectured with great enthusiasm in the hall,
How soon, inexplicably, I became weary and restless,
Till rising and stepping out, I wandered off alone,
Into the quiet, shadowed air of the woods, and from time to time,
Heard the birds' calls and songs as day began to fade.

I think most birders evolve—what kind of birder are you? 

What kind would you like to be?
On Christmas Day, Sue and I went to our favorite spot along the Wisconsin River. There were several Bald Eagles soaring above with Common Mergansers and Goldeneye on the water. A Belted Kingfisher called out as it jetted along the river and a few Dark-eyed Juncos patrolled the vegetation along the shore. A Sharp-shinned Hawk dashed through as well. My beloved tiger beetles were present, just underground as larvae or overwintering adults. It's interesting for me to visit cherished natural areas throughout the year to see how things phenologically transform. 
Nifty ice forming along the shore ...
Heading toward Sauk City ...
There was daylight time remaining, perhaps a few hours, so we decided to hike Grottos Trail at Devil's Lake State Park. Though late, I thought there would still be a chance to catch a whistle or two of a Townsend's Solitaire.
I kept my ears tuned-in while taking some scenic shots of the East Bluff ...
As the sun's final rays slipped through the branches of the trees, casting long shadows and painting the forest in golden hues, the air was still and serene. Though we had hoped to catch a glimpse of a solitaire, the beauty of the scene made up for the absence. The trees stood like silent sentinels while the fading light illuminated the landscape in a way that felt almost sacred. In that moment, Nature's quiet majesty was enough, and the hunt for the bird seemed trivial.
The lake was almost entirely frozen. 
The middle area looks like open water, but it's actually ice ... thin ice! I did not venture too far from the shore to take these photographs. Even if I had broken through, I would have only been up to my ankles in icy water. A few others ventured out quite a bit further than I felt comfortable doing, though.
We returned to Devil's Lake yesterday and spotted two Townsend's Solitaires at Devil's Doorway. On our last visit, I lost a pocket knife and a cherished water bottle near Potholes Trail. I had a pretty good idea of where they were, so we made a direct route to the spot and recovered them. It was much easier this time since nearly all the snow had melted, but going up to the top of the bluff remains a tricky endeavor during winter—dry rocks are slippery, wet rocks are slippery, ice-covered rocks are slippery. Trekking poles and crampons are highly recommended. 
All images © 2024 Mike McDowell

12.26.2024

True, true ...


All images © 2024 Mike McDowell

12.24.2024

Ultra II HSS: Absurdly Ridiculous.

"I wanted to write about the moment when your addictions no longer hide the truth from you. When your whole life breaks down. That's the moment when you have to somehow choose what your life is going to be about."

― Chuck Palahniuk
Guitars!

Gear Acquisition Syndrome (GAS) – it's a powerful force that some argue should be officially recognized in the DSM-5-TR Manual. Despite my initial resolve to skip Fender's new Stratocaster Ultra II series, I eventually gave in to GAS and picked up the HSS model in Sinister Red. This guitar features Fender's latest Noiseless pickups, with a Haymaker humbucker that packs a punch, delivering a bold, dynamic sound with a touch of aggression, perfect for rock and metal. I'm a big fan of the black anodized pickguard and the rolled fret edges. While the glow-in-the-dark side fret dots are a cool feature, I doubt I'll ever use them, as I'm not planning on hitting the stage again. I managed to snag a solid frequent buyer discount, though I'm sure it just feeds my addiction. Regardless, it's a gorgeous guitar, and I'm thankful to have one in my collection.

Freshly opened after waiting 24 hours for it to climatize ...
Most of you probably don't follow the guitar market like I do, but there was a huge sales boom during the pandemic. Naturally, it didn't last and many new purchasers gave up on learning to play and have since put their instruments for sale online, especially Reverb.com ― there are over 10,000 used Strats there right now. But they're also being resold via guitar shops and other online venues as well. Tens of thousands of near-mint used guitars selling at great prices. 

It's definitely a buyer's market, so selling guitars from my collection isn't ideal at the moment. I do plan to sell at some point, and while I probably won't make a huge profit overall, a few of my guitars have seen a significant increase in value. When a model is discontinued, like my Lucerne Aqua Firemist EJ Signature Stratocaster, it usually commands a higher resale price. For now, though, the used market is completely saturated, so I just focus on keeping the guitars I don't play often well-maintained.
The lovely anodized pickguard ...
A nifty matching strap ...
Plugged in and ready to jam!
While I don’t always stick to it, I'm trying to follow the philosophy of selling a guitar I don't play very often before buying another new one. It helps me keep my collection focused and meaningful. Over time, I've sold a few instruments, and while it's not always easy to let go, it feels like a step toward refining what I own. By doing this, I avoid accumulating guitars that just gather dust and make space for new ones that I'm genuinely excited to play and add to my collection. 

All images © 2024 Mike McDowell

12.18.2024

Pheasant Branch in the Fog

"There's a certain deeper sort of beauty in the bleak. I see it that bleak is beautiful in part because it is too deathly and grim to fathom itself so."

― Criss Jami
All images © 2024 Mike McDowell