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.)
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.
I saw you got a blimp, but do you have one from a seaplane? [CB note: Yep—we’ve posted twophotos from seaplanes but we posted them after this email came in, so our reader couldn’t have seen them.] This view is coming in to “land” on Lake Chelan, Washington [the largest lake in the state], from the cockpit of a Dehavilland Beaver. We did an air tour of the Glaciers of the North Cascades two years ago.
I took this photo with an iPhone 6 in June 2015 from a plane approaching Jackson airport in Jackson Hole, Wyoming. It is impossible to see these mountains from the air, or on the ground, and not be overwhelmed with their majesty and their beauty. It is tough to look at them and not constantly say “wow.”
That’s how reader Ramakrishnan describes his breathtaking shot over Playa Flamenco, on the Puerto Rican island of Culebra:
Our reader isn’t alone in calling it one of the prettiest beaches in the world:
It is known for its beautiful shallow turquoise waters, soft white sand, excellent swimming, sport-fishing, and diving sites. Stretching for a mile around a sheltered, horseshoe-shaped bay, Playa Flamenco is considered both Culebra’s and Puerto Rico’s best beach and quite possibly of the whole Caribbean. Certain discerning travel writers have suggested that it is among the top 10 in the world, including been named at the 3rd spot by Travel Advisor in March 2014.
A spacecraft has finally gotten close enough to the sun to gather clues about some lingering questions.
For a little NASA spacecraft, the weather outside is frightful.
The Parker Solar Probe is on a mission toward the sun. The spacecraft has been exposed to scorching temperatures and intense sunlight as it draws closer with every loop around. Eventually, Parker will glide through the star’s outer atmosphere and feel the toastiness of nearly 2 million degrees Fahrenheit (more than 1 million degrees Celsius).
Parker is dressed appropriately for the journey. It wears a thick, custom-made shield to protect its scientific instruments and systems, and tubes with flowing water to cool itself down. Inside, it is a cozy 78 degrees Fahrenheit (26 degrees Celsius). Since it set out last summer, Parker has made three sweltering passes of the sun, with many more still to come in the next five years. And its findings are already surprising scientists back home.
The fancy bike brand tried to depict a wellness journey. It didn’t go as planned.
The internet has some feedback on Peloton’s holiday ad campaign. The fitness-tech company, famous for its $2,400, wifi-enabled stationary bikes that let riders stream spin classes, debuted a new television commercial in mid-November, but it didn’t become infamous until earlier this week, when Twitter got ahold of it.
In the ad, a young mom gains confidence in the year after her husband buys her a Peloton for Christmas—or, at least, that’s what the ad seems to be aiming for. The commercial documents the woman (who is also documenting herself, via her phone’s front-facing camera) while she gets up early day after day to exercise or jumps on the bike after work. At the end, she presents the video of her exercise journey to her husband. “A year ago, I didn’t realize how much this would change me,” she tells him. “Thank you.”
Defenders of the Electoral College argue that it was created to combat majority tyranny and support federalism, and that it continues to serve those purposes. This stance depends on a profound misunderstanding of the history of the institution.
Two of the nation’s last three presidents won the presidency in the Electoral College, even though they lost the popular vote nationwide. In 2000, Al Gore outpolled George W. Bush by more than 540,000 votes but lost in the Electoral College, 271–266. Sixteen years later, Hillary Clinton tallied almost 3 million more votes than Donald Trump but lost decisively in the Electoral College, 306–232. And, as a recent New York Times poll suggested, the 2020 election could very well again deliver the presidency to the loser of the popular vote.
Despite this, defenders of the Electoral College argue that it was created to combat majority tyranny and support federalism, and that it continues to serve those purposes. For example, Representative Dan Crenshaw of Texas, responding to Representative Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez’s recent criticism of the Electoral College, tweeted that “we live in a republic, which means 51% of the population doesn’t get to boss around the other 49%,” and that the Electoral College “promotes more equal regional representation and protects the interests of sparsely populated states.”
A conversation with the evangelical pastor and theologian
Shortly after I met my wife, Cindy, in 1989—she was living in New York City at the time, while I was living in Northern Virginia—she told me about a new church she was attending in Manhattan: Redeemer Presbyterian. The young minister, she told me, was “the best pastor in America.”
His name was Timothy J. Keller.
Since that time Keller, 69, has become one of the most consequential figures in American Christianity. When he founded Redeemer in the fall of 1989, fewer than 100 people attended; in the aftermath of the attacks on September 11, 2001, Keller was preaching in multiple services in three different venues each Sunday to about 5,000 people—mostly young, single, professionally and ethnically diverse. He has written about two dozen books, several of them best sellers. And unlike that of many popular ministers, his reach extends farbeyond the Christian subculture.
Perhaps fittingly for the end of the decade, 2019 was filled with thoughtful, retrospective works from master filmmakers who cast an eye on the past amid the rapid changes of the present. While veterans like Martin Scorsese and Quentin Tarantino wrestled with their moviemaking legacies, some of the other best works of the year were about the wrenching and rewarding labor that goes into a work of art, be it an 18th-century French portrait, an experimental student film in 1980s Britain, or one of the best-known works of American literature. By any measure, this was a thrilling year for the medium, featuring fascinating movies of all genres and styles to dissect, enjoy, and debate for decades to come. Here are my 10 favorites.
The House Judiciary Committee needs a clearer plan for mobilizing public opinion in support of impeachment.
What on Earth was the point of the first day of the House Judiciary Committee hearings on impeachment?
The House Intelligence Committee hearings in November told a coherent story. Public-spirited career personnel and a Purple Heart Army officer were aligned on one side; venal and untruthful political operatives aligned on the other. Each witness was called for a reason.
A televised hearing in a high-stakes political contest is not a classroom seminar. It is not convened for the benefit of the already well informed. It is a show: a show that succeeds or fails according to whether it catalyzes the second-most-attentive and third-most-attentive tiers of citizens.
The Republican minority on the Judiciary Committee understood this basic rule. For all their intellectual and ethical limitations—and those were excruciating—Republicans on the committee arrived with a clear message. These hearings are a farce. We refuse to respect the most basic rules of decorum, and we grant permission to all like-minded Americans to dismiss them as thuggishly as we do. Ugly, but clear and comprehensible.
Why everyone’s mornings seem more productive than yours
My mornings are the messiest part of my day. I do not rise and shine. Instead, I hit snooze on the alarm and throw the covers over my head. As I hear the early bus shuffle through my stop outside my window, my mind fills with thoughts from the night before, with to-do lists and deadlines. The alarm goes off again, and I repeat the snooze cycle twice more. By the time I roll out of bed, I’m a tangle of anxiety.
This never seems to be the case in other people’s morning routines. I know, because those routines now seem to be everywhere: in series like The Cut’s “How I Get It Done” and The New York Times’ “Sunday Morning,” in roundups on news outlets from CNN to Vogue, and in hashtagged Instagram pictures of frothy lattes cut with leafy designs. The subjects of most of these morning-routine reports are celebrities and other conventionally successful people. Richard Branson plays a “hard game” of tennis at 6 a.m. Elizabeth Gilbert makes homemade chai and dances.
Time to take a look at some of the most memorable events and images of 2019. Events covered in this essay include protests in Hong Kong, Chile, and Iraq; a toxic sky over New Delhi; an all-female team of spacewalkers; and much more.
As the year comes to a close, it’s time to take a look at some of the most memorable events and images of 2019. Events covered in this essay (the last of a three-part photo summary of the year) include pro-democracy demonstrations in Hong Kong, anti-government protests in Chile and Iraq, a toxic sky over New Delhi, an all-female team of spacewalkers, a planned “storming” of Area 51, the aftermath of Hurricane Dorian, and much more. See also “Top 25 News Photos of 2019” and “2019 in Photos: Part 1” and “2019 in Photos: Part 2.” The series comprises 120 images in all.
Before an evolutionary breakthrough, the tiny bones of ears were part of the jaw.
One hundred and twenty million years ago, when northeastern China was a series of lakes and erupting volcanoes, there lived a tiny mammal just a few inches long. When it died, it was fossilized down to its most minuscule ear bones. And it is these ear bones that have so intrigued scientists: They are evidence of how evolution created the unique ear of mammals, giving modern mammals—including us—a finely tuned sense of hearing.
Today, mammals have three small bones in the ear that transmit sound from the ear drum: the malleus, incus, and stapes. A wealth of evidence from fossils and developing embryos suggests that two of these ear bones were once jaw bones. Over millions of years of evolution, they shrank in relative size and detached completely from the jaw. Reptiles—like our nonmammalian ancestors probably—hear by placing their jaw on the ground to pick up low-frequency vibrations. But mammals, with their three ear bones, can hear high-pitched sounds in the air: insects buzzing, wind rustling, birds squawking, music, speech.
GOP lawmakers used to oppose the president’s embrace of Putin and the Kremlin. Not anymore.
Just how far will Republicans go in following President Donald Trump’s embrace of Russia? An answer may be crystallizing as the GOP mobilizes its defense of the president against impeachment.
Both congressional Republicans and conservative commentators are defending Trump from impeachment partly by accusing Ukraine of intervening against him in the 2016 presidential election—despite repeated warnings from national-security and intelligence officials that those claims are not only baseless, but advance Vladimir Putin’s goal of discrediting Ukraine.
Earlier in Trump’s presidency, many Republicans sought to distance themselvesfrom his warm tone toward Putin. But just this week alone, a number of Republican lawmakers, the official House Republican report rebutting impeachment, and the Fox News host Tucker Carlson have repeated Kremlin lines on Ukraine.