Every year I try to write a version of the poem "A Visit from St. Nicholas" that relates to something I did that year. This year I did it in relation to the CHESS (Colorado Headwaters Ecological Headwaters Spectroscopy Study) Campaign that I was part of this summer.
‘Twas the night before Christmas when all through RMBL (rumble)
The scanners were whirring, a rather delightful ensemble.
Leaves were being plucked with the greatest of care
And taped to the scanners with a huff and a swear.
The samples were nestled all warm in the oven
Waiting to be massed and given some lovin’
And Piper in her hoodie and I with wide brim
Packed coolers of “ice” in a light that was dim
When out in the flowers there arose such a clatter
We sprinted from the lab to see what was the matter
We tripped over flags and a BBC crew
Before joining a circle where a hack suddenly flew
A dense haze of smoke billowing in the air
Made us wonder aloud how our lidar would fare.
When what to my blurry eyes should appear
But a zooming twin otter and 8 CHESSers full o’ cheer
Pointing to the plane was a man clever in tech,
And I knew in a moment it must be Dr. Breck.
Leaving the hack circle his field team came
And he whistled, and shouted, and called then by name
“Now, Jack! now, Sophia! now B-rad and Bayden!
On, Dre! on, Yahaira! on, C-ass and Reagan!
Go out to the meadows and into the trees
I want percent cover, but watch out for bees!”
As clouds that with afternoon heat do rise
When they meet with mountains bring a thunderous surprise
So up to the field site the team did climb
With packs full of clippers and an eye on the time
Then, in a twinkling, I laid down quadrats
And Amanda with an ipad entered the stats.
Species were named with a yell and a whistle
And packed into bags, even the thistle.
As I placed a flag and was turning around
Through the Veratrum came Ian with an elegant bound
He was dressed for the sun from his head to his toe
His clothes were all faded, but no skin did he show.
A heavy starlink he had lashed to his pack
Even in the woods, communication did not lack.
His eyes–how they twinkled! His dimples, how merry!
Such a contrast to Ribes, a shrub that was scary!
His mouth did not quiver as he keyed the mic
“I’ve brought hot cheetos to fuel this here hike”
The cap of a sharpie he held tight between his lips
As he wrote on trait bags and dispensed ID tips
His face full of focus as he held the field spec
But one eye scanned for bears for just a quick sec.
He was trim and thin, a right mountain PI
And I saluted when I saw him, nearly spilling my chai
A quick safety brief and a look up ahead,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.
He checked quicklook imagery, then went straight to his work
His drone Bruce was seen flying up towards a cirque.
After setting a transect for Bruce to follow,
He downed his last electrolytes with a powerful swallow
He sprang to the suburban, to the undergrads gave a whistle,
And down the dirt road they shot like a missile.
But I got a whatsapp in the middle of the night–
“Happy Christmas to all and we are GO for flight!”
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