Inspired by our March 2016 cover story by James Fallows, “How America Is Putting Itself Back Together,” readers share their best aerial photos from across the U.S. Submit your own via firstname.lastname@example.org. (Please provide the location, the story behind the photo, and the largest file size you have. Horizontal photos with a bit of the plane visible—a wing, the edge of a window—are ideal. Terms and Conditions here.)
Ideally we want to see part of the aircraft in these aerial photos, but this one from reader Rama is way too good to pass up:
Here’s a favorite of mine taken four years ago in the Outer Banks. This is Cape Lookout Lighthouse. The Light at Cape Hatteras gets all the attention, being the tallest in the U.S., but Cape Lookout Lighthouse is my favorite. The beauty of the Outer Banks and its lighthouses can be appreciated best from above. This was on a custom lighthouse tour that took us around six iconic lights of the OBX.
My family and I used to vacation once a year in nearby Duck when I was in middle school, so the Outer Banks looms large in my memory. If you, like Rama, have a great aerial photo from the OBX to share, or in general have a memorable view above your childhood vacation spot, please send: email@example.com (submission guidelines here).
This time, instead of a biplane over Kilaeua, it’s a helicopter over Kauai, specifically the Na Pali Coast, a chain of mountains in the northwest of Kauai. This picture shows a good example of the popup waterfalls you get after rain showers in the islands.
I’m really enjoying your America by Air feature and thought you might enjoy these pictures I grabbed during a Delta 837 flight from Atlanta to Honolulu. The flight takes off around 11 AM (EST) and everyone was asleep by the time things got exciting, around 1 PM (EST). At this point the entire flight is dark and silent except for my wide-open window and my excited squealing as we fly over the start of Glen Canyon (picture #1) on through southern Utah (#2). I think southern Utah is some of the most beautiful landscape I’ve seen from the air, not to mention the ground, and I definitely recommend grabbing a window seat on the left-hand side if you ever get to take this trip.
Federal officials, the states of Oregon and California, and the utility PacifiCorp signed a pair of agreements [on April 6] opening the way for removal of a whopping four hydroelectric dams on the Klamath River, which flows from Oregon through Northern California. [...] Congress authorized the [Glen Canyon Dam’s] construction on this day [April 11] in 1956, and about seven months later, then-president Dwight D. Eisenhower pressed a telegraph key in the Oval Office, sending the signal to blast a string of dynamite wedged in the side of a sinuous canyon. Boulders sprayed through the air at Arizona’s northern border, and workers began drilling a tunnel to temporarily redirect the flow of the Colorado River while they built the base of the dam. Monstrous Lake Powell filled in behind the 710-foot dam, drowning Glen Canyon’s otherworldly red-rock amphitheaters and slot canyons under its silty depths.
Does drone photography qualify for “America by Air”? This was taken on 3/29/2016 while I was flying for the Anniston Army Depot. (Don’t worry, the depot itself is out of frame, to the left—although eagle-eyed viewers may notice some M113 variants to the left.) The stand of cleared trees in the bottom left is to become a solar power site, which is why I was out there.
The mountain in the picture is Coldwater Mountain, site of silver-level mountain biking trails and a natural spring which provides much of the community its water. Although not visible, behind Coldwater Mountain lies Mount Cheaha, Alabama’s highest peak (the range it is a part of is visible in the background). On the other side of Coldwater are the cities of Anniston and Oxford, nestled in a valley.
The picture itself isn’t one of masterful composition, but both the colors and natural beauty strike me.
Lucas double-checked with the Army about posting and followed up:
They did clear the picture for publication and sent along some general information about the depot in case your readers wanted some additional information. I’ve quoted them here:
Nestled in the foothills of the Appalachian Mountains, Anniston Army Depot is a U.S. Army maintenance center and munitions storage site occupying more than 25 square miles of land. ANAD is the Department of Defense’s Center of Industrial and Technical Excellence for combat vehicles, including assault bridging, artillery and small caliber weapons, and locomotives, rail equipment and non-tactical generators.
The installation operates mission and base operations functions under TACOM Life Cycle Management Command. It serves and supports a number of customers: active duty, reserve component, and joint service Soldiers and Marines; retirees; DoD civilians; families of servicemembers; contractors; and volunteers. ANAD is proud of its rich history, whereas this year marks its diamond anniversary—seventy-five years of dedication while playing a vital role in our nation’s defense mission.
And the depot continues to do amazing things! The Department of Defense has launched several initiatives to reduce its fossil fuel dependence by improving energy efficiency and shifting to renewable energy to meet operational and installation needs. Recently, the depot took an additional step to not only meet, but exceed the Army’s goals of renewable energy while enhancing national security. The Office of Energy Initiatives, Alabama Power Company and the depot, in coordination with General Services Administration Corp of Engineers and the Mission and Installation Contracting Command, are developing a solar project capable of producing up to 10 megawatt alternating current at the depot. This ground breaking takes place in April and commercial operation is expected in the fall.
Not sure if I’ve missed it, but with all the piston, turbo, jet, land, and seaplane [and blimp! and paraglider! and helicopter! and skyscraper!] photos, I don’t think I've seen one from a glider! Here’s one I took a few years ago over Boulder, Colorado, on aerotow behind a Super Cub on a winter afternoon. Note the critical instrument visible on the right: the humble yaw string.
Also known as a slip string, it’s a simple device for indicating a slip or skid in an aircraft in flight. It performs the same function as the slip-skid indicator ball, but is more sensitive, and does not require the pilot to look down at the instrument panel. Technically, it measures sideslip angle, not yaw angle, but this indicates how the aircraft must be yawed to return the sideslip angle to zero. It is typically constructed from a short piece or tuft of yarn placed in the free air stream where it is visible to the pilot.
The yaw string is considered a primary flight reference instrument on gliders, which must be flown with near zero sideslip angle to reduce drag as much as possible. It is valued for its high sensitivity, and the fact that it is presented in a head-up display. Even the most sophisticated modern racing sailplanes are fitted with yaw strings by their pilots, who reference them constantly throughout the flight.
I snapped this shot (using my phone) of the Charlotte skyline shortly after we had taken off on a flight to Tampa in January 2015. Not a very exciting story, but I thought it turned out to be a cool picture.
This is one of my favorites, taken six years ago while flying to the Dry Tortugas from Key West. We’re flying over the sea of mud, where the sea still holds the secrets of hidden treasures from Spanish shipwrecks in the area.
He adds, “You can see the shadow of our seaplane.” That detail really makes it. Speaking of plane shadows, here’s another one to add to our growingcollection:
This is from an RV-8 taking off from Rockland, Maine. I usually stow my camera during take-offs and landings, so I missed this shot when we arrived. I couldn’t wait to take off again before the light changed!
I asked her if she had a good photo handy of the tiny RV-8, “a tandem two-seat, single-engine, low-wing homebuilt aircraft sold in kit form by Van’s Aircraft.” Indeed she did:
Here is a view of the Missouri River, just north of Kansas City, that illustrates the runoff from a continental-sized glacier. The Missouri is “underfit,” meaning that the modern stream flows through a valley that was created by an ancestral river many times its present size.
The modern-day Missouri River, which has been channelized by a massive civil engineering project aimed at promoting navigation and flood control, is dwarfed by its valley, which cuts a massive scar across the middle of the country that in places is over 25 miles wide. Here it averages about 10 miles across.
As the last glacier receded, its melt-water would have filled the valley from rim to rim during the summer months. During the winter, its flow slowed down and a braided stream like the one in New Zealand left the valley mostly sand. Tremendous spring winds, created in part by the temperature variation over the diminished glacier to the northeast, created epic sandstorms that deposited several hundred feet of fine grained silt on the eastern border of the river valley. Ten thousand years of erosion have created the Loess Hills, a relatively unique geologic feature of sharp sided mounds without a rock anywhere.
Nick Knobil sends this photo taken over—or is it under?—Mt. Washington, New Hampshire:
I am the pilot. The photographer was the then 89-year-old Don “Mac” McKibben. I saw your America by Air series and noticed that [today, April 9] is the first anniversary of Mac’s death. I miss that guy.
Mac flew P-47s and P-51s with the 352nd Fighter Group over Europe during WW2. He worked for Eastman Kodak from before the war until he retired. He always had the latest digital camera gear … a thoroughly modern guy. And he never lost his “let’s go!” love of flying.
When I asked Nick what maneuver he was making in the photo, he replied:
I honestly don’t remember—barrel roll, aileron roll, or loop. Mac and I would whoop and holler …
I found a Facebook post that Nick wrote a year ago today—a tribute to his flying buddy:
Our pal Don “Mac” McKibben died this afternoon. His eldest son, Frank, was with him.
Don grew up a poor kid in upstate New York during the Depression, and like so many of us, grew up with a fascination of flight that lasted throughout his long life. He soloed a Piper J-3 Cub in the winter 1940 (the J-3 at that time, you remember, was a new design) in Hornell, New York through the Civilian Pilot Training program, and within two years (and with a little help from the USAAC) he was flying the most powerful, advanced fighter aircraft in the world. He was 21.
He was a part of the big fight; a founding member of the 21st Fighter Squadron, which became the 486th, one of the three squadrons that comprised the 352nd Fighter Group: the “Blue Nosed Bastards of Bodney.” Google it.
And then he came home, got married to his childhood sweetheart, raised three sons who’ve had sons and daughters of their own, and worked his whole career at Kodak.
If you knew him you knew he was well read, erudite, loved jazz music and a special martini he called the “Silver Bullet”. He had his last one yesterday.
This evening I had my first “Silver Bullet” knowing that I would never be able to solve the world’s problems over one with him again. The first “Bullet” was the worst one ever. The second one? Not so bad.
Keep ‘em flying.
(America by Air archive here. Submission guidelines here.)
A soda lake or alkaline lake is a lake on the strongly alkaline side of neutrality (in other words, a pH value above 7, typically between 9 - 12). They are characterized by high concentrations of carbonate salts, typically sodium carbonate (and related salt complexes), giving rise to their alkalinity. The resulting hypersaline and highly alkalic soda lakes are considered some of the most extreme aquatic environments on Earth.
The Green New Deal’s mastermind is a precocious New Yorker with big ambitions. Sound familiar?
The economic thinker who most influenced the Green New Deal isn’t Marx or Lenin. No, if you want to understand Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez’s bid to remake the economy to fight climate change, you need to read Hamilton.
Yes, Alexander Hamilton. Long before he was associated with theatrical hip-hop, former Treasury Secretary Hamilton called for policies that sound familiar to us today. Like Representative Ocasio-Cortez, he wanted massive federal spending on new infrastructure. Like Donald Trump, he believed that very high tariffs can nurture American manufacturing. And like Elizabeth Warren, he was willing to bend the Constitution to reform the financial system.
Hamilton, in short, successfully used the power of the federal government to boost manufacturing, to pick winners and losers, and to shape the fate of the U.S. economy. He is the father of American industrial policy: the set of laws and regulations that say the federal government can guide economic growth without micromanaging it. And the Green New Deal, for all its socialist regalia, only makes sense in light of his capitalistic work.
The former deputy director of the FBI explains why the bureau felt obligated to investigate the president—and how the Mueller probe might end.
In the months before President Donald Trump fired FBI Director James Comey, FBI counterintelligence agents investigating Russian election interference were also collecting evidence suggesting that Trump could be compromised by Russian President Vladimir Putin.
Andrew McCabe, the former FBI deputy director who oversaw the bureau’s Russia investigation, told me in an interview conducted late last week that concerns about Trump had been building “for some time”—and that he was convinced the FBI would have been justified in opening a case against the president.
“We felt like we had credible, articulable facts to indicate that a threat to national security may exist,” McCabe told me. And FBI officials felt this way, he said, even before Trump fired Comey. That firing set off a chain of events that, as McCabe put it, turned the world “upside down.” McCabe wrote contemporaneous memos describing “key” conversations he had during that chaotic period—with the president, with Deputy Attorney General Rod Rosenstein, and others—that are now in the hands of Special Counsel Robert Mueller.
Even though many Democrats blame him for Donald Trump’s election—and his rivals think he’ll fade
He’s a 77-year-old socialist who’s abrasive when he’s in a good mood, and who’s still blamed by many Democrats for Hillary Clinton losing to Donald Trump. But go ahead, try to argue that Bernie Sanders isn’t the front-runner in the 2020 Democratic race right now.
After making his second presidential run official on Tuesday, Sanders blew past every other announced candidate’s early fundraising numbers—$3.3 million in the first few eight hours, more than double the huge $1.5 million Kamala Harris raised in the whole first day—and he’s expecting to easily hit the 1 million website sign-ups he asked for as a first show of support for his campaign.
For all the more conventional Democrats who greeted the news of his candidacy with sighs of “Oh no!” or “Give me a break,” no one else running could do that.
What science can tell us about how other creatures experience the world
Amid the human crush of Old Delhi, on the edge of a medieval bazaar, a red structure with cages on its roof rises three stories above the labyrinth of neon-lit stalls and narrow alleyways, its top floor emblazoned with two words: birds hospital.
On a hot day last spring, I removed my shoes at the hospital’s entrance and walked up to the second-floor lobby, where a clerk in his late 20s was processing patients. An older woman placed a shoebox before him and lifted off its lid, revealing a bloody white parakeet, the victim of a cat attack. The man in front of me in line held, in a small cage, a dove that had collided with a glass tower in the financial district. A girl no older than 7 came in behind me clutching, in her bare hands, a white hen with a slumped neck.
Never gratuitously annoy the person who is deciding how long you’ll spend in federal prison.
Updated at 12:00 pm E.T. on February 19, 2019.
Roger Stone, the trash-talking, Richard Nixon–tattooed Donald Trump adviser recently indicted for lying to Congress and threatening a witness, had an eventful Presidents’ Day. In the space of time you or I might enjoy a leisurely brunch, Stone posted an online attack on United States District Judge Amy Berman Jackson, who is presiding in his case, then altered the post, deleted the post, offered a defense for the post, and finally had his lawyers file a “notice of apology” for the post in federal court. None of this is normal, not even in 2019.
This surreal chain of events began—as many do—on Stone’s Instagram page, where he has been relentlessly decrying his prosecution and soliciting defense funds. “Through legal trickery Deep State hitman Robert Mueller has guaranteed that my upcoming show trial is before Judge Amy Berman Jackson, an Obama appointed Judge who dismissed the Benghazi charges against Hillary Clinton and incarcerated Paul Manafort prior to his conviction for any crime,” Stone proclaimed. He added a picture of Jackson with a small symbol in the upper-left-hand corner—a cross in a circle, or, according to some, crosshairs.
Claims that insects will disappear within a century are absurd, but the reality isn’t reassuring either.
In 1828, a teenager named Charles Darwin opened a letter to his cousin with “I am dying by inches, from not having anybody to talk to about insects.” Almost two centuries on, Darwin would probably be thrilled and horrified: People are abuzz about insects, but their discussions are flecked with words such as apocalypse and Armageddon.
The drumbeats of doom began in late 2017, after a German study showed that the total mass of local flying insects had fallen by 80 percent in three decades. The alarms intensified after TheNew York Times Magazine published a masterful feature on the decline of insect life late last year. And panic truly set in this month when the researchers Francisco Sánchez-Bayo and Kris Wyckhuys, having reviewed dozens of studies, claimed that “insects as a whole will go down the path of extinction in a few decades.” The Guardian, in covering the duo’s review, wrote that “insects could vanish within a century”—a crisis that Sánchez-Bayo and Wyckhuys believe could lead to a “catastrophic collapse of nature’s ecosystems.”
The reflections of more than a dozen people who did dedicated cleanouts of their living spaces years ago
For Martin Law, Marie Kondo’s tidying regimen was life-changing, until it wasn’t. Law, a 32-year-old Ph.D. student at the University of Cambridge, went through with most of Kondo’s popular tidying method two years ago. “I managed to get rid of a great deal of items that I previously had found difficult to let go of,” he told me, including about half of his clothing.
After Law’s big cleanout, though, the stuff gradually crept back in. His kitchen gained a series of useful but not vital devices: a new cookie cutter, a larger whisk, a machine for making peanut butter. The accumulations of the past two years have added up. “The house is probably no better than it was—perhaps marginally better, but in reality probably no better,” he says. His commitment to having very little has, he confesses, petered out.
It doesn’t matter how much he made from the settlement announced on Friday; he bested the league.
Technically, Colin Kaepernick withdrew his collusion case. Technically, the NFL did not admit that it conspired to blackball Kaepernick from the league after he began taking a knee during the national anthem to protest racial injustice. But nontechnically speaking, the NFL lost. Massively.
The terms of the settlement, announced on Friday, were not disclosed. But it doesn’t matter how much money Kaepernick ultimately receives from the NFL; what matters is that he bested a league that has a long history of pummeling its opposition in court, especially players.
In a way, the NFL had no other choice. Last August, arbitrator Stephen Burbank rejected the NFL’s request to have the case dismissed. That meant he believed Kaepernick’s team had compiled enough receipts to present their case. With another hearing reportedly scheduled for next month, did the NFL really want to let Kaepernick’s legal team expose those receipts in court?
At the Munich Security Conference, Europe and the Trump administration stopped pretending to respect each other.
Europe and the Trump administration have stopped pretending to respect each other. For the past two years, we have been treated to a transatlantic charade. Everyone knows there’s a problem, but publicly the leaders proclaim that nothing has fundamentally changed. But at the 2019 Munich Security Conference, which took place over the weekend, the charade ended. The American position is collapsing under the weight of its own contradictions. The Europeans are defaulting to nostalgia for a multilateral order. Meanwhile, the true challenge of a rising authoritarian bloc goes largely ignored.
The mood of defiance was summed up by Wolfgang Ischinger, the chairman of the Munich Security Conference, in his opening and closing remarks. Ischinger, who is 72, opened the forum’s proceedings sporting a hoodie emblazoned with the EU flag—a gift from his grandson, and a not-too-subtle rebuke to an American administration that has reversed a 70-year policy of support for Europe. Three days later, in a suit and tie, he offered his closing observation: “As this conference concludes, critics might argue that some speakers were less interested in putting the pieces back together than in creating more disarray in our international system.”