Journal articles on the topic 'Air masses Australia'

Abstract. Cloud–radiation interactions over the Southern Ocean are not well constrained in climate models, in part due to uncertainties in the sources, concentrations, and cloud-forming potential of aerosol in this region. To date, most studies in this region have reported measurements from fixed terrestrial stations or a limited set of instrumentation and often present findings as broad seasonal or latitudinal trends. Here, we present an extensive set of aerosol and meteorological observations obtained during an austral summer cruise across the full width of the Southern Ocean south of Australia. Three episodes of continental-influenced air masses were identified, including an apparent transition between the Ferrel atmospheric cell and the polar cell at approximately 64∘ S, and accompanied by the highest median cloud condensation nuclei (CCN) concentrations, at 252 cm−3. During the other two episodes, synoptic-scale weather patterns diverted air masses across distances greater than 1000 km from the Australian and Antarctic coastlines, respectively, indicating that a large proportion of the Southern Ocean may be periodically influenced by continental air masses. In all three cases, a highly cloud-active accumulation mode dominated the size distribution, with up to 93 % of the total number concentration activating as CCN. Frequent cyclonic weather conditions were observed at high latitudes and the associated strong wind speeds led to predictions of high concentrations of sea spray aerosol. However, these modelled concentrations were not achieved due to increased aerosol scavenging rates from precipitation and convective transport into the free troposphere, which decoupled the air mass from the sea spray flux at the ocean surface. CCN concentrations were more strongly impacted by high concentrations of large-diameter Aitken mode aerosol in air masses which passed over regions of elevated marine biological productivity, potentially contributing up to 56 % of the cloud condensation nuclei concentration. Weather systems were vital for aerosol growth in biologically influenced air masses and in their absence ultrafine aerosol diameters were less than 30 nm. These results demonstrate that air mass meteorological history must be considered when modelling sea spray concentrations and highlight the potential importance of sub-grid-scale variability when modelling atmospheric conditions in the remote Southern Ocean.

A field aerosol measurement campaign as part of the Measurements of Urban, Marine and Biogenic Air (MUMBA) campaign was conducted between 16 January 2013 and 15 February 2013 in the coastal city of Wollongong, Australia. The objectives of this research were to study the occurrence frequency, characteristics and factors that influence new particle formation processes. Particle formation and growth events were observed from particle number size distribution data in the range of 14 nm–660 nm measured using a scanning particle mobility sizer (SMPS). Four weak Class I particle formation and growth event days were observed, which is equivalent to 13% of the total observation days. The events occurred during the day, starting after 8:30 Australian Eastern Standard time with an average duration of five hours. The events also appeared to be positively linked to the prevailing easterly to north easterly sea breezes that carry pollutants from sources in and around Sydney. This suggests that photochemical reactions and a combination of oceanic and anthropogenic air masses are among the factors that influenced these events.

Environmental context. Gaseous organic compounds fuel the production of ozone in the background lower atmosphere. There have been no measurements of many of these compounds in the temperate and polar latitudes of the Southern Hemisphere. Here some first results are presented that show in general much lower concentrations than the Northern Hemisphere, due in part to the lower land surfaces and biomass burning in the Southern Hemisphere. Abstract. Measurements were made of volatile organic compounds (VOCs) at Cape Grim using proton transfer reaction mass spectrometry (PTR-MS) during the Precursors to Particles (P2P) Campaign from 10 February to 1 March 2006. Approximately 14 days of clean air data were obtained along with 4 days of data from when polluted air, first from a smoke plume from a fire on Robbins Island adjacent to the station and then air from Victoria, was present. This paper deals with the results obtained in clean air, the focus of the P2P campaign. The protonated masses and probable VOCs measured in the clean marine air were: methanol, 33; acetonitrile, 42; acetaldehyde, 45; acetone, 59; isoprene, 69; methylvinyl ketone/methacrolein (MVK/MACR), 71; methylethyl ketone, 73; and benzene, 79. The measurements at Cape Grim were in some cases near the detection limit and an analytical challenge. The range of concentrations detected in clean maritime air, the relationship to the limited range of previous measurements in marine air in the Northern Hemisphere tropics, and the physical, chemical and biological processes controlling these compounds in the marine air are discussed. The methanol concentrations observed at Cape Grim are consistent with global modelling, incorporating sources that are mainly of vegetation origin. Isoprene has recently been implicated as a precursor to cloud condensation nuclei over the Southern Ocean. In this snapshot of observations at Cape Grim, Tasmania, isoprene and the isoprene oxidation products MVK and MACR appeared to be absent in air from the Southern Ocean. However, isoprene has a very short atmospheric lifetime and the spatial distribution of its emissions may be very heterogeneous. The concentrations of the other VOCs in marine air at Cape Grim, acetonitrile, acetaldehyde, acetone, methylethyl ketone and benzene, were typically a factor of four lower than that observed over the remote tropical ocean in the Northern Hemisphere. The lower concentrations of carbonyls and their precursor hydrocarbons may indicate a limitation on ozone production potential in the Southern Hemisphere compared with the Northern Hemisphere troposphere. Additional keywords: atmospheric composition, oxygenated volatile organic compounds, proton transfer reaction mass spectrometry, Southern Ocean, volatile organic compounds.

Abstract. Tropospheric ozone columns of up to 50 DU were observed by GOME (Global Ozone Monitoring Experiment) above Indonesia in September 1997, while only background amounts were measured in September 1998. The Traj.x trajectory model along with BRemen's Atmospheric PHOtochemical model (BRAPHO) were used to investigate the higher than average ozone columns above Indonesia. The transport analysis reveals that biomass burning over central Africa and northern Australia does not significantly influence ozone columns over Indonesia in September 1997. El Niño conditions, leading to extreme dryness and uncontrolled fires in Indonesia, produced ozone precursors, which are initially only slowly advected westwards to the central Indian Ocean. Joint transport and chemistry modelling was able to reproduce the spatial distribution and amounts of ozone, NO2 and formaldehyde columns over Indonesia. The chemistry modelling shows a net production of 3.1 Tg of ozone produced by biomass burning in Indonesia in September 1997. Transport analysis further reveals that ozone columns over the Indian Ocean, between 10 and 20° S can be accounted for by the mixing of air masses containing NOx from lightning over the Congo Basin with air masses containing volatile organic compounds from biomass burning.

Environmental context. Atmospheric submicrometre particles have a significant impact on human health, visibility impairment, acid deposition and global climate. This study aims to understand the size distribution of submicrometre particles and new particle formation in eastern Australia and the results indicate that photochemical reactions of airborne pollutants are the main mechanism of new particle formation. The findings will contribute to a better understanding of the effects of aerosols on climate and the reduction of submicrometre particles in the atmosphere. Abstract. An intensive measurement campaign of particle concentrations, nitrogen oxides and meteorological parameters was conducted at a rural site in subtropical eastern Australia during September 2006. The aim of this work was to develop an understanding of the formation and growth processes of atmospheric aerosols, and the size distributions under various meteorological conditions. In order to achieve this, the origins of air arriving at the site were explored using back trajectories cluster analysis and the diurnal patterns of particle number concentration and size distribution for the classified air masses were investigated. The study showed that the photochemical formation of nucleation mode particles and their consequent growth was often observed. Furthermore, the nucleation mode usually dominated the size distribution and concentration of the photochemical event in the first 3–4 h with a geometric mean diameter of 26.9 nm and a geometric standard deviation of 1.28. The average particle growth rate was estimated to be 1.6 nm h–1, which is lower than that observed at urban sites, but comparable to the values reported in clean environments. The potential precursors of the photochemical events are also discussed.

Abstract. Aerosol measurements over the Southern Ocean have been identified as critical to an improved understanding of aerosol–radiation and aerosol–cloud interactions, as there currently exists significant discrepancies between model results and measurements in this region. The atmosphere above the Southern Ocean provides crucial insight into an aerosol regime relatively free from anthropogenic influence, yet its remoteness ensures atmospheric measurements are relatively rare. Here we present observations from the Polar Cell Aerosol Nucleation (PCAN) campaign, hosted aboard the RV Investigator during a summer (January–March) 2017 voyage from Hobart, Australia, to the East Antarctic seasonal sea ice zone. A median particle number concentration (condensation nuclei > 3 nm; CN3) of 354 (95 % CI 345–363) cm−3 was observed from the voyage. Median cloud condensation nuclei (CCN) concentrations were 167 (95 % CI 158–176) cm−3. Measured particle size distributions suggested that aerosol populations had undergone significant cloud processing. To understand the variability in aerosol observations, measurements were classified by meteorological variables. Wind direction and absolute humidity were used to identify different air masses, and aerosol measurements were compared based on these identifications. CN3 concentrations measured during SE wind directions (median 594 cm−3) were higher than those measured during wind directions from the NW (median 265 cm−3). Increased frequency of measurements from these wind directions suggests the influence of large-scale atmospheric transport mechanisms on the local aerosol population in the boundary layer of the East Antarctic seasonal ice zone. Modelled back trajectories imply different air mass histories for each measurement group, supporting this suggestion. CN3 and CCN concentrations were higher during periods where the absolute humidity was less than 4.3 gH2O/m3, indicative of free tropospheric or Antarctic continental air masses, compared to other periods of the voyage. Increased aerosol concentration in air masses originating close to the Antarctic coastline have been observed in numerous other studies. However, the smaller changes observed in the present analyses suggest seasonal differences in atmospheric circulation, including lesser impact of synoptic low-pressure systems in summer. Further measurements in the region are required before a more comprehensive picture of atmospheric circulation in this region can be captured and its influence on local aerosol populations understood.

Abstract. Airborne in-situ observations of ClO in the tropics were made during the TROCCINOX (Aracatuba, Brasil, February 2005) and SCOUT-O3 (Darwin, Australia, November/December 2005) field campaigns. While during most flights significant amounts of ClO (≈10–20 parts per trillion, ppt) were present only in aged stratospheric air, instances of enhanced ClO mixing ratios of up to 40 ppt – significantly exceeding those expected from gas phase chemistry – were observed in air masses of a more tropospheric character. Most of these observations concur with low temperatures or with the presence of cirrus clouds (often both), suggesting that cirrus ice particles and/or liquid aerosol at low temperatures may promote significant heterogeneous chlorine activation in the tropical upper troposphere lower stratosphere (UTLS). In two case studies, particularly high levels of ClO observed were reproduced by chemistry simulations only under the assumption that significant denoxification had occurred in the observed air. At least for one of these flights, a significant denoxification is in contrast to the observed NO levels suggesting that the coupling of chlorine and nitrogen compounds in the tropical UTLS may not be completely understood.

In situ aircraft measurements of trace gases and aerosols were made in the boundary layer (BL) and free troposphere (FT) over Indonesia and Australia during the Biomass Burning and Lightning Experiment (BIBLE)-A and B conducted in August–October 1998 and 1999.Concentrations of ozone (O3) and its precursors [CO, reactive nitrogen (NOx), non-methane hydrocarbons (NMHCs)] were measured in these campaigns to identify the sources of NOx and to estimate the effects of biomass burning and lightning on photochemical production of O3. Over Indonesia, in-situ production of NOx by lightning was found to be a major source of reactive nitrogen in the upper troposphere during BIBLE-A. In some circumstances, increases in reactive nitrogen were often associated with enhancements in CO and NMHCs, suggesting that the sources were biomass burning and fossil fuel combustion, followed by upward transport by cumulus convection. Over Australia the levels of O3, CO, reactive nitrogen, and NMHCs were elevated throughout the troposphere compared to those observed in the tropical Pacific. However, the mechanisms responsible for the enhanced concentrations in the BL and FT are distinctly different. The emissions from biomass burning that occurred in northern Australia were restricted to the BL because of strong subsidence in the period. In the FT over Australia, elevated concentrations of O3 and its precursors result from injections of emissions as the air masses travel over Africa, South America, the Indian Ocean, and Indonesia en route to Australia. In all cases, O3 levels in the biomass burning plumes were enhanced due to photochemical production.

Abstract. The world's forests produce atmospheric aerosol by emitting volatile organic compounds (VOC) which, after being oxidized in the atmosphere, readily condense on the omnipresent nanometer-sized nuclei and grow them to climatically relevant sizes. The cooling effect of aerosols is the greatest uncertainty in current climate models and estimates of radiative forcing. Therefore, identifying the environmental factors influencing the biogenic formation of aerosols is crucial. In this paper, we connected biogenic aerosol formation events observed in a Eucalypt forest in South-East Australia during July 2005–December 2006 to air mass history using 96-h back trajectories. Formation of new particles was most frequent in the dry westerly and south-westerly air masses. According to NDVI (Normalized Difference Vegetation Index) measurements, photosynthesis was not significantly higher in this direction compared to the north-east direction. It is unlikely, therefore, that differences in photosynthesis-derived organic precursor emissions would have been significant enough to lead to the clear difference in NPF frequency between these two directions. Instead, the high evaporation rates above the Pacific Ocean resulted in humid winds from the north-east that effectively suppressed new-particle formation in the forest hundreds of kilometers inland. No other factor varied as significantly in tune with new-particle formation as humidity and we concluded that, in addition to local meteorological factors in the forest, the magnitude of evaporation from oceans hundreds of kilometers upwind can effectively suppress or enhance new-particle formation. Our findings indicate that, unlike warm waters, the cold polar oceans provide excellent clean and dry background air that enhances aerosol formation above near-coastal forests in Fennoscandia and South-East Australia.

Abstract. Airborne in-situ observations of ClO in the tropics were made during the TROCCINOX (Aracatuba, Brazil, February 2005) and SCOUT-O3 (Darwin, Australia, November/December 2005) field campaigns. While during most flights significant amounts of ClO (≈10–20 parts per trillion, ppt) were present only in aged stratospheric air, instances of enhanced ClO mixing ratios of up to 40 ppt – significantly exceeding those expected from gas phase chemistry – were observed in air masses of a more tropospheric character. Most of these observations are associated with low temperatures or with the presence of cirrus clouds (often both), suggesting that cirrus ice particles and/or liquid aerosol at low temperatures may promote significant heterogeneous chlorine activation in the tropical upper troposphere lower stratosphere (UTLS). In two case studies, particularly high levels of ClO observed were reproduced by chemistry simulations only under the assumption that significant denoxification had occurred in the observed air. However, to reproduce the ClO observations in these simulations, O3 mixing ratios higher than observed had to be assumed, and at least for one of these flights, a significant denoxification is in contrast to the observed NO levels, suggesting that the coupling of chlorine and nitrogen compounds in the tropical UTLS may not be completely understood.

Abstract The potential impact of Indian Ocean sea surface temperature (SST) anomalies in modulating midlatitude precipitation across southern and western regions of Australia is assessed in a series of atmospheric general circulation model (AGCM) simulations. Two sets of AGCM integrations forced with a seasonally evolving characteristic dipole pattern in Indian Ocean SST consistent with observed “dry year” (PDRY) and “wet year” (PWET) signatures are shown to induce precipitation changes across western regions of Australia. Over Western Australia, a significant shift occurs in the winter and annual rainfall frequency with the distribution becoming skewed toward less (more) rainfall for the PDRY (PWET) SST pattern. For southwest Western Australia (SWWA), this shift primarily is due to the large-scale stable precipitation. Convective precipitation actually increases in the PDRY case over SWWA forced by local positive SST anomalies. A mechanism for the large-scale rainfall shifts is proposed, by which the SST anomalies induce a reorganization of the large-scale atmospheric circulation across the Indian Ocean basin. Thickness (1000–500 hPa) anomalies develop in the atmosphere mirroring the sign and position of the underlying SST anomalies. This leads to a weakening (strengthening) of the meridional thickness gradient and the subtropical jet during the austral winter in PDRY (PWET). The subsequent easterly offshore (westerly onshore) anomaly in the thermal wind over southern regions of Australia, along with a decrease (increase) in baroclinicity, results in the lower (higher) levels of large-scale stable precipitation. Variations in the vertical thermal structure of the atmosphere overlying the SST anomalies favor localized increased convective activity in PDRY because of differential temperature lapse rates. In contrast, enhanced widespread ascent of moist air masses associated with frontal movement in PWET accounts for a significant increase in rainfall in that ensemble set.

Abstract This work analyses atmospheric transport of natural and anthropogenic pollution to the South Shetland Islands (SSI), with particular reference to the period September 2015 – August 2017. Based on data from the Global Volcanism Program database and air mass back trajectories calculated using the HySPLIT model, it was found that it is possible that in the analysed period volcanic pollution was supplied via long-range transport from South America, and from the South Sandwich Islands. Air masses flowed in over the South Shetland Islands from the South America region relatively frequently – 226 times during the study period, which suggests the additional possibility of anthropogenic pollution being supplied by this means. In certain cases the trajectories also indicated the possibility of atmospheric transport from the New Zealand region, and even from the south-eastern coast of Australia. The analysis of the obtained results is compared against the background of research by other authors. This is done to indicate that research into the origin of chemical compounds in the Antarctic environment should take into account the possible influx of pollutants from remote areas during the sampling period, as well as the possible reemission of compounds accumulated in snow and ice.

Abstract The pioneering large-scale studies of cyclone frequency, location, and intensity conducted by Fred Sanders prompt similar questions about lesser-studied anticyclone development. The results of a climatology of closed anticyclones (CAs) at 200, 500, and 850 hPa, with an emphasis on the subtropics and midlatitudes, is presented to assess the seasonally varying distribution and hemispheric differences of these features. To construct the CA climatology, a counting program was applied to twice-daily 2.5° NCEP–NCAR reanalysis 200-, 500-, and 850-hPa geopotential height fields for the period 1950–2003. Stationary CAs, defined as those CAs that were located at a particular location for consecutive time periods, were counted only once. The climatology results show that 200-hPa CAs occur preferentially during summer over subtropical continental regions, while 500-hPa CAs occur preferentially over subtropical oceans in all seasons and over subtropical continents in summer. Conversely, 850-hPa CAs occur preferentially over oceanic regions beneath upper-level midocean troughs, and are most prominent in the Northern Hemisphere, and over midlatitude continents in winter. Three case studies of objectively identified CAs that produced heal waves over the United States, Europe, and Australia in 1995, 2003, and 2004, respectively, are presented to supplement the climatological results. The case studies, examining the subset of CAs than can produce heat waves, illustrate how climatologically hot continental tropical air masses produced over arid and semiarid regions of the subtropics and lower midlatitudes can become abnormally hot in conjunction with dynamically driven upper-level ridge amplification. Subsequently, these abnormally hot air masses are advected downstream away from their source regions in conjunction with transient disturbances embedded in anomalously strong westerly jets.

ABSTRACT: An ice core, 92.26 m in length, was collected near the ice divide of the West Antarctica ice sheet during the 2008/2009 austral summer. This paper described the fieldwork at the Mount Johns site (79º55'S; 94º23'W) and presented the first results of the upper 45.00 m record covering approximately 125 years (1883 - 2008), dated by annual layer counting and volcanic reference horizons. Trace element concentrations in 2,137 samples were determined using inductively coupled plasma mass spectrometry. The concentrations obtained for Al, Ba, Ca, Fe, K, Mg, Mn, Na, Sr and Ti are controlled by climate variations, the transport distance, and the natural sources of these aerosols. Natural dust contributions, mainly derived from the arid areas of Patagonia and Australia, are important sources for aluminum, barium, iron, manganese and titanium. Marine aerosols from sea ice and transported by air masses are important sources of sodium and magnesium. Calcium, potassium and strontium showed considerable inputs of both continental dust and marine aerosols.

Environmental context. Atmospheric particles play an important role in the global climate system; they contribute to the radiation balance directly, but they also have an indirect effect by modifying cloud properties and influencing precipitation. Over the Southern Ocean, nanometre-sized particle production is believed to be largely natural, although the processes that lead to these particles are not well understood. This work provides new observations of atmospheric nanoparticles, and shows that they arise from diverse sources of production. Abstract. This paper presents analyses of a two-year record of aerosol measurements made at the Cape Grim Baseline Air Pollution Station (CGBAPS) in Tasmania covering the period 1999 and 2000. The focus of the study is nanoparticles, defined here as particles with diameter Dp, in the range 3 ≤ Dp ≤ 12 nm; with the number concentration determined using two condensation particle counters, a TSI 3025 UCPC (Dp ≥ 3 nm) and a TSI CN3760 (Dp ≥ 12 nm). Total aerosol (Dp ≥ 3 nm) and nanoparticle concentrations were examined for three broad air mass origins, namely ‘Baseline’ or background maritime, continental Australia and Tasmanian air masses. Total median aerosol concentrations in the Baseline, continental and Tasmanian sectors typically ranged from 100 to 900, 1300 to 1900 and 500 to 1200 cm–3, respectively. The median ranges for the nanoparticle concentrations were 50–350 cm–3 in Baseline air, 150–450 cm–3 in continental air and 100–300 cm–3 in Tasmanian air. While the total aerosol concentrations in the three sectors were quite different, the nanoparticle concentrations were less so. Nanoparticle diurnal concentrations showed substantial differences between the three sectors, indicative of different aerosol sources or precursor sources in the regions designated by these wind sectors.

AbstractA historical rainfall index, relevant to the grazing industries of Queensland, Australia, is described. We refer to our index as the Queensland grazing lands rainfall index (QGLRI), which is a long-term (1890/91–present) time series of austral summer (November–March) rainfall, spatially averaged over a region we define as the Queensland grazing lands region. We argue that our QGLRI better represents historical summer rainfall variability faced by the majority of the grazing industry in Queensland than does area-averaged statewide rainfall. The geographical boundaries of our region were chosen to 1) better represent the spatial patterns of land use, settlement, and livestock densities and 2) coincide with spatial patterns of airmass dominance. The selected region covers 59% of Queensland’s mainland area but carries more than 80% of the state’s livestock. The region’s boundaries also closely match the mean summer location of the boundaries of the “tropical maritime Pacific” air mass. The selected 5-month season (November–March) was chosen based on summer rainfall dominance, seasonal climatic effects restricting pasture and animal growth, and pasture management implications such as burning and the risk of overgrazing. We find that this season also corresponds to the timing of tropical maritime airmass dominance. The remaining regions of Queensland, far-northern and far-western Queensland, also correspond to well-defined dominant air masses, with properties that are markedly different from those of the tropical maritime Pacific air mass. We demonstrate that the rainfall regime in far-northern Queensland makes a strong contribution to statewide totals, resulting in statewide summer rainfall having lower variability than our QGLRI.

Abstract. Surface ozone observations with modern instrumentation have been made around the world for more than 40 years. Some of these observations have been made as one-off activities with short-term, specific science objectives and some have been made as part of wider networks which have provided a foundational infrastructure of data collection, calibration, quality control, and dissemination. These observations provide a fundamental underpinning to our understanding of tropospheric chemistry, air quality policy, atmosphere–biosphere interactions, etc. brought together eight of these networks to provide a single data set of surface ozone observations. We investigate how representative this combined data set is of global surface ozone using the output from a global atmospheric chemistry model. We estimate that on an area basis, 25 % of the globe is observed (34 % land, 21 % ocean). Whereas Europe and North America have almost complete coverage, other continents, Africa, South America, Australia, and Asia (12–17 %) show significant gaps. Antarctica is surprisingly well observed (78 %). Little monitoring occurs over the oceans, with the tropical and southern oceans particularly poorly represented. The surface ozone over key biomes such as tropical forests and savanna is almost completely unmonitored. A chemical cluster analysis suggests that a significant number of observations are made of polluted air masses, but cleaner air masses whether over the land or ocean (especially again in the tropics) are significantly under-observed. The current network is unlikely to see the impact of the El Niño–Southern Oscillation (ENSO) but may be capable of detecting other planetary-scale signals. Model assessment and validation activities are hampered by a lack of observations in regions where the models differ substantially, as is the ability to monitor likely changes in surface ozone over the next century. Using our methodology we are able to suggest new sites which would help to close the gap in our ability to measure global surface ozone. An additional 20 surface ozone monitoring sites (a 20 % increase in the World Meteorological Organization Global Atmosphere Watch (WMO GAW) ozone sites or a 1 % increase in the total background network) located on 10 islands and in 10 continental regions would almost double the area observed. The cost of this addition to the network is small compared to other expenditure on atmospheric composition research infrastructure and would provide a significant long-term benefit to our understanding of the composition of the atmosphere, information which will also be available for consideration by air quality control managers and policy makers.

Abstract. An aircraft measurement campaign involving the Russian high-altitude aircraft M55 Geophysica and the German DLR Falcon was conducted in Darwin, Australia in November and December 2005 as part of the European integrated project SCOUT-O3. The overall objectives of the campaign were to study the transport of trace gases through the tropical tropopause layer (TTL), mechanisms of dehydration close to the tropopause, and the role of deep convection in these processes. In this paper a detailed roadmap of the campaign is presented, including rationales for each flight, and an analysis of the local and large-scale meteorological context in which they were embedded. The campaign took place during the pre-monsoon season which is characterized by a pronounced diurnal evolution of deep convection including a mesoscale system over the Tiwi Islands north of Darwin known as "Hector". This allowed studying in detail the role of deep convection in structuring the tropical tropopause region, in situ sampling convective overshoots above storm anvils, and probing the structure of anvils and cirrus clouds by Lidar and a suite of in situ instruments onboard the two aircraft. The large-scale flow during the first half of the campaign was such that local flights, away from convection, sampled air masses downstream of the "cold trap" region over Indonesia. Abundant cirrus clouds enabled the study of active dehydration, in particular during two TTL survey flights. The campaign period also encompassed a Rossby wave breaking event transporting stratospheric air to the tropical middle troposphere and an equatorial Kelvin wave modulating tropopause temperatures and hence the conditions for dehydration.

Abstract. An aircraft measurement campaign involving the Russian high-altitude aircraft M55 Geophysica and the German DLR Falcon was conducted in Darwin, Australia in November and December 2005 as part of the European integrated project SCOUT-O3. The overall objectives of the campaign were to study the transport of trace gases through the tropical tropopause layer (TTL), mechanisms of dehydration close to the tropopause, and the role of deep convection in these processes. In this paper a detailed roadmap of the campaign is presented, including rationales for each flight, and an analysis of the local and large-scale meteorological context in which they were embedded. The campaign took place during the pre-monsoon season which is characterized by a pronounced diurnal evolution of deep convection including a mesoscale system over the Tiwi Islands north of Darwin known as "Hector". This allowed studying in detail the role of deep convection in structuring the tropical tropopause region, in situ sampling convective overshoots above storm anvils, and probing the structure of anvils and cirrus clouds by Lidar and a suite of in situ instruments onboard the two aircraft. The large-scale flow during the first half of the campaign was such that local flights, away from convection, sampled air masses downstream of the "cold trap" region over Indonesia. Abundant cirrus clouds enabled the study of active dehydration, in particular during two TTL survey flights. The campaign period also encompassed a Rossby wave breaking event transporting stratospheric air to the tropical middle troposphere and an equatorial Kelvin wave modulating tropopause temperatures and hence the conditions for dehydration.

AbstractCorrelations between a 1000 year record of the major ions in a 108.83 m ice core from East Rongbuk Glacier (28°01’N, 86°58’E; 6518ma.s.l.) on the northeast slope of Qomolangma (Mount Everest) and the Southern Oscillation Index (SOI) were examined to investigate possible links between the ice-core records of the southern Tibetan Plateau (TP) and El Niño Southern Oscillation (ENSO). The results show that years with the highest crustal ion concentrations and lowest marine ion concentrations corresponded with a low SOI, and vice versa. Cross wavelet and wavelet coherence analysis between major ion time series and the SOI indicated that there were significant sections with high common power between the major ion time series and the SOI, suggesting a correlation between the ion records of the Qomolangma ice core and ENSO. Further investigation indicated that the higher SOI years corresponded with weaker continental air masses and stronger south Asian monsoons over the southern TP, leading to increased marine ions and decreased continental ions transported to the southern TP. The in-phase surface pressure anomalies of the southern TP and Darwin, Australia, link ENSO and ion transport over the southern TP, and thus suggest a link between aerosol transport over the southern TP and ENSO.

Abstract. We use limb emission spectra of the Michelson Interferometer for Passive Atmospheric Sounding (MIPAS) onboard the ENVIronmental SATellite (ENVISAT) to derive the first global distribution of peroxyacetyl nitrate (PAN) in the upper troposphere. PAN is generated in tropospheric air masses polluted by fuel combustion or biomass burning and acts as a reservoir and carrier of NOx in the cold free troposphere. Since PAN exhibits continuum-like broadband structures in the mid-infrared region, we have applied a contiguous analysis window covering the wavenumber region 775–800 cm−1 for retrieval. The interfering species CCl4, HCFC-22, H2O, ClONO2, CH3CCl3 and C2H2 were fitted along with PAN, whereas pre-fitted profiles were used to model the contribution of other contaminants like ozone. Sensitivity tests consisting in retrieval without consideration of PAN have demonstrated the existence of PAN signatures in MIPAS spectra obtained from polluted air masses. The analysed dataset consists of 10 days between 4 October and 1 December 2003. This period covers the end of the biomass burning season in South America and South and East Africa, in which generally large amounts of pollutants are produced and distributed over wide areas in the southern hemispheric free troposphere. Elevated PAN amounts of 200–700 pptv were measured in a large plume extending from Brasil over the Southern Atlantic, Central and South Africa, the South Indian Ocean as far as Australia at altitudes between 8 and 16 km. Enhanced PAN values were also found in a much more restricted area between northern subtropical Africa and India. The most significant northern midlatitude PAN signal in MIPAS data is an area extending at 8 km altitude from China into the Chinese Sea. The average mid and high latitude PAN amounts found at 8 km were around 125 pptv in the northern, but only between 75 and 50 pptv in the southern hemisphere. The PAN distribution found in the southern hemispheric tropics and subtropics is highly correlated with the jointly fitted acetylene (C2H2), which is another pollutant produced by biomass burning, and agrees reasonably well with the CO plume detected during end of September 2003 at the 275 hPa level (~10 km) by the Measurement of Pollution in the Troposphere (MOPITT) instrument on the Terra satellite. Similar southern hemispheric PAN amounts were also observed by previous airborne measurements performed in September/October 1992 and 1996 above the South Atlantic and the South Pacific, respectively.

Abstract. We use limb emission spectra of the Michelson Interferometer for Passive Atmospheric Sounding (MIPAS) onboard the ENVIronmental SATellite (ENVISAT) to derive the first global distribution of peroxyacetyl nitrate (PAN) in the upper troposphere. PAN is generated in tropospheric air masses polluted by fuel combustion or biomass burning and acts as a reservoir and carrier of NOx in the cold free troposphere. PAN exhibits continuum-like broadband structures in the mid-infrared region and was retrieved in a contiguous analysis window covering the wavenumber region 775–800 cm−1. The interfering species CCl4, HCFC-22, H2O, ClONO2, CH3CCl3 and C2H2 were fitted along with PAN, whereas pre-fitted profiles were used to model the contribution of other contaminants like ozone. Sensitivity tests consisting in retrieval without consideration of PAN demonstrated the existence of PAN signatures in MIPAS spectra obtained in polluted air masses. The analysed dataset consists of 10 days between 4 October and 1 December 2003. This period covers the end of the biomass burning season in South America and South and East Africa, in which generally large amounts of pollutants are produced and distributed over wide areas of the southern hemispheric free troposphere. Indeed, elevated PAN amounts of 200–700 pptv were measured in a large plume extending from Brasil over the Southern Atlantic, Central and South Africa, the South Indian Ocean as far as Australia at altitudes between 8 and 16 km. Enhanced PAN values were also found in a much more restricted area between northern subtropical Africa and India. The most significant northern midlatitude PAN signal was detected in an area at 8 km altitude extending from China into the Chinese Sea. The average mid and high latitude PAN amounts found at 8 km were around 125 pptv in the northern, but only between 50 and 75 pptv in the southern hemisphere. The PAN distribution found in the southern hemispheric tropics and subtropics is highly correlated with the jointly fitted acetylene (C2H2), which is another pollutant produced by biomass burning, and agrees reasonably well with the CO plume detected during end of September 2003 at the 275 hPa level (~10 km) by the Measurement of Pollution in the Troposphere (MOPITT) instrument on the Terra satellite. Similar southern hemispheric PAN amounts were also observed by previous airborne measurements performed in September/October 1992 and 1996 above the South Atlantic and the South Pacific, respectively.

Abstract. We present global upper tropospheric HCN and C2H6 amounts derived from MIPAS/ENVISAT limb emission spectra. HCN and C2H6 are retrieved in the spectral regions 715.5–782.7 cm−1 and 811.5–835.7 cm−1, respectively. The datasets we present consist of 54 days between September 2003 and March 2004. This period covers the peak and decline of the southern hemispheric biomass burning period and some months thereafter. HCN is a nearly unambiguous tracer of biomass burning with an assumed tropospheric lifetime of several months. Indeed, the most significant feature in the MIPAS HCN dataset is an upper tropospheric plume of enhanced values caused by southern hemispheric biomass burning, which in September and October 2003 extended from tropical South America over Africa, Australia to the Southern Pacific. The spatial extent of this plume agrees well with the MOPITT CO distribution of September 2003. Further there is good agreement with the shapes and mixing ratios of the southern hemispheric HCN and C2H6 fields measured by the ACE experiment between September and November 2005. The MIPAS HCN plume extended from the lowermost observation height (8 km) up to about 16 km altitude, with maximum values of 500–600 pptv in October 2003. It was still clearly visible in December 2003, but had strongly decreased by March 2004, confirming the assumed tropospheric lifetime. The main sources of C2H6 are production and transmission of fossil fuels, followed by biofuel use and biomass burning. The C2H6 distribution also clearly reflected the southern hemispheric biomass burning plume and its seasonal variation, with maximum amounts of 600–700 pptv. Generally there was good agreement between the southern hemispheric distributions of both pollution tracers, except for the region between Peru and the mid-Pacific. Here C2H6 was considerably enhanced, whereas the HCN amounts were low. Backward trajectory calculations suggested that industrial pollution was responsible for the elevated C2H6 in these particular air masses. Except for the Asian monsoon anticyclone in September 2003, there were only comparably small regions of enhanced HCN in the Northern Hemisphere. However, C2H6 showed an equally strong northern hemispheric signal between the equator and low midlatitudes, persisting over the whole observation period. Backward trajectory calculations for air masses from this region also pointed to industrial sources of this pollution. Generally, C2H6/HCN ratios between 1 and 1.5 indicate biomass burning and ratios larger than 1.5 industrial pollution. However, in March 2004 ratios of up to 2 were also found in some regions of the former southern biomass burning plume.

Abstract. We present global upper tropospheric HCN and C2H6 amounts derived from MIPAS/ENVISAT limb emission spectra. HCN and C2H6 are retrieved in the spectral regions 715.5–782.7 cm−1 and 811.5–835.7 cm−1, respectively. The datasets consist of 54 days between September 2003 and March 2004. This period covers the peak and decline of the southern hemispheric biomass burning period and some months thereafter. HCN is a nearly unambiguous tracer of biomass burning with an assumed tropospheric lifetime of several months. Indeed, the most significant feature in the MIPAS HCN dataset is an upper tropospheric plume of enhanced values caused by southern hemispheric biomass burning, which in September and October 2003 extended from tropical South America over Africa, Australia to the Southern Pacific. The spatial extent of this plume agrees well with the MOPITT CO distribution of September 2003. Further there is good agreement with the shapes and mixing ratios of the southern hemispheric HCN and C2H6 fields measured by the ACE experiment between September and November 2005. The MIPAS HCN plume extended from the lowermost observation height of 8 km up to about 16 km altitude, with maximum values of 500–600 pptv in October 2003. It was still clearly visible in December 2003, but had strongly decreased by March 2004, confirming the assumed tropospheric lifetime. The main sources of C2H6 are production and transmission of fossil fuels, followed by biofuel use and biomass burning. The C2H6 distribution also clearly reflected the southern hemispheric biomass burning plume and its seasonal variation, with maximum amounts of 600–700 pptv. Generally there was good spatial overlap between the southern hemispheric distributions of both pollution tracers, except for the region between Peru and the mid-Pacific. Here C2H6was considerably enhanced, whereas the HCN amounts were low. Backward trajectory calculations suggested that industrial pollution was responsible for the elevated C2H6 concentration in these particular air masses. Except for the Asian monsoon anticyclone in September 2003, there were only comparably small regions of enhanced HCN in the Northern Hemisphere. However, C2H6 showed an equally strong northern hemispheric signal between the equator and low midlatitudes, persisting over the whole observation period. Backward trajectory calculations for air masses from this region also point to industrial sources of this pollution. Generally, C2H6/HCN ratios between 1 and 1.5 indicate biomass burning and ratios larger than 1.5 industrial pollution. However, in March 2004 ratios of up to 2 were also found in some regions of the former southern biomass burning plume.

Abstract. New particle formation (NPF), which generates nucleation mode aerosol, was observed in the tropical Upper Troposphere (UT) and Tropical Tropopause Layer (TTL) by in situ airborne measurements over South America (January–March 2005), Australia (November–December 2005), West Africa (August 2006) and Central America (2004–2007). Particularly intense NPF was found at the bottom of the TTL. Measurements with a set of condensation particle counters (CPCs) with different dp50 (50% lower size detection efficiency diameter or "cut-off diameter") were conducted on board the M-55 Geophysica in the altitude range of 12.0–20.5 km and on board the DLR Falcon-20 at up to 11.5 km altitude. On board the NASA WB-57F size distributions were measured over Central America in the 4 to 1000 nm diameter range with a system of nucleation mode aerosol spectrometers. Nucleation mode particle concentrations (NNM) were derived from these measurements which allow for identifying many NPF events with NNM in the range of thousands of particles per cm3. Over Australia and West Africa, we identified NPF in the outflow of tropical convection, in particular of a Mesoscale Convective System (MCS). Newly formed particles with NNM > 1000 cm−3 were found to coexist with ice cloud particles (dp > 2 μm) as long as cloud particle concentrations remained below 2 cm−3. The occurrence of NPF within the upper troposphere and the TTL was generally confined within 340 K to 380 K potential temperature, but NPF was of particular strength between 350 K and 370 K (i.e. ~1–4 km below the cold point tropopause). Analyses of the aerosol volatility (at 250 °C) show that in the TTL on average 75–90% of the particles were volatile, compared to typically only 50% in the extra-tropical UT, indicative for the particles to mainly consist of H2SO4-H2O and possibly organic compounds. Along two flight segments over Central and South America (24 February 2005 and 7 August 2006, at 12.5 km altitude) in cloud free air, above thin cirrus, particularly high NNM were observed. Recent lifting had influenced the probed air masses, and NNM reached up to 16 000 particles cm−3 (ambient concentration). A sensitivity study using an aerosol model, which includes neutral and ion induced nucleation processes, simulates NNM in reasonable agreement with the in situ observations of clear-air NPF. Based on new, stringent multi-CPC criteria, our measurements corroborate the hypothesis that the tropical UT and the TTL are regions supplying freshly nucleated particles. Our findings narrow the altitude of the main source region to the bottom TTL, i.e. to the level of main tropical convection outflow, and, by means of measurements of carbon monoxide, they indicate the importance of anthropogenic emissions in NPF. After growth and/or coalescence the nucleation mode particles may act as cloud condensation nuclei in the tropical UT, or, upon ascent into the stratosphere, contribute to maintain the stratospheric background aerosol.

Abstract. Optical properties of surface aerosols at Dome C, Antarctica, in 2007–2013 and their potential source areas are presented. Scattering coefficients (σsp) were calculated from measured particle number size distributions with a Mie code and from filter samples using mass scattering efficiencies. Absorption coefficients (σap) were determined with a three-wavelength Particle Soot Absorption Photometer (PSAP) and corrected for scattering by using two different algorithms. The scattering coefficients were also compared with σsp measured with a nephelometer at the South Pole Station (SPO). The minimum σap was observed in the austral autumn and the maximum in the austral spring, similar to other Antarctic sites. The darkest aerosol, i.e., the lowest single-scattering albedo ωo≈0.91, was observed in September and October and the highest ωo≈0.99 in February and March. The uncertainty of the absorption Ångström exponent αap is high. The lowest αap monthly medians were observed in March and the highest in August–October. The equivalent black carbon (eBC) mass concentrations were compared with eBC measured at three other Antarctic sites: the SPO and two coastal sites, Neumayer and Syowa. The maximum monthly median eBC concentrations are almost the same (∼3±1 ng m−3) at all these sites in October–November. This suggests that there is no significant difference in eBC concentrations between the coastal and plateau sites. The seasonal cycle of the eBC mass fraction exhibits a minimum f(eBC) ≈0.1 % in February–March and a maximum ∼4 %–5 % in August–October. Source areas were calculated using 50 d FLEXPART footprints. The highest eBC concentrations and the lowest ωo were associated with air masses coming from South America, Australia and Africa. Vertical simulations that take BC particle removal processes into account show that there would be essentially no BC particles arriving at Dome C from north of latitude 10∘ S at altitudes <1600 m. The main biomass-burning regions Africa, Australia and Brazil are more to the south, and their smoke plumes have been observed at higher altitudes than that, so they can get transported to Antarctica. The seasonal cycle of BC emissions from wildfires and agricultural burning and other fires in South America, Africa and Australia was calculated from data downloaded from the Global Fire Emissions Database (GFED). The maximum total emissions were in August–September, but the peak of monthly average eBC concentrations is observed 2–3 months later in November, not only at Dome C, but also at the SPO and the coastal stations. The air-mass residence-time-weighted BC emissions from South America are approximately an order of magnitude larger than from Africa and Oceania, suggesting that South American BC emissions are the largest contributors to eBC at Dome C. At Dome C the maximum and minimum scattering coefficients were observed in austral summer and winter, respectively. At the SPO σsp was similar to that observed at Dome C in the austral summer, but there was a large difference in winter, suggesting that in winter the SPO is more influenced by sea-spray emissions than Dome C. The seasonal cycles of σsp at Dome C and at the SPO were compared with the seasonal cycles of secondary and primary marine aerosol emissions. The σsp measured at the SPO correlated much better with the sea-spray aerosol emission fluxes in the Southern Ocean than σsp at Dome C. The seasonal cycles of biogenic secondary aerosols were estimated from monthly average phytoplankton biomass concentrations obtained from the Cloud-Aerosol Lidar with Orthogonal Polarization (CALIOP) satellite sensor data. The analysis suggests that a large fraction of the biogenic scattering aerosol observed at Dome C has been formed in the polar zone, but it may take a month for the aerosol to be formed, be grown and get transported from the sea level to Dome C.

Abstract. The case study presented here focusses on the life cycle of clouds in a tropical deep convective system. During the SCOUT-O3 campaign from Darwin, Northern Australia, the Hector storm system has been probed by the Geophysica high altitude aircraft. Clouds were observed by in situ particle probes, a backscatter sonde, and a miniature lidar. Additionally, aerosol number concentrations have been measured. On 30 November 2005 a double flight took place and Hector was probed throughout its life cycle in its developing, mature, and dissipating stage. The two flights were four hours apart and focussed on the anvil region of Hector in altitudes between 10.5 km and 18.8 km (i.e. above 350 K potential temperature). Trajectory calculations and ozone measurements have been used to identify that the same cloud air masses have been probed in both flights. The size distributions derived from the measurements not only show a change with increasing altitude but also with the evolution of Hector. Clearly different aerosol to cloud particle ratios as well as varying ice crystal morphology have been found for the different development stages of Hector, indicating a change in freezing mechanisms. The development phase exhibits the smallest ice particles (up to 300 μm) with a rather uniform morphology. This is indicative for rapid glaciation during Hector's development. Sizes of ice crystals are largest in the mature stage (larger 1.6 mm) and even exceed those of some continental tropical deep convective clouds, also in their number concentrations. The backscatter properties and particle images show a change from frozen droplets in the developing phase to rimed and aggregated particles. The clouds in the dissipating stage have a large vertical extend (roughly 6 km) though optically thin and persist for at least 6 h. This poses a high potential for affecting the tropical tropopause layer background conditions regarding humidity, e.g. through facilitating subvisible cirrus formation, and with this the amount of water vapour that is transported into the stratosphere.

Abstract. A month-long intensive measurement campaign was conducted in March/April 2007 at Agnes Water, a remote coastal site just south of the Great Barrier Reef on the east coast of Australia. Particle and ion size distributions were continuously measured during the campaign. Coastal nucleation events were observed in clean, marine air masses coming from the south-east on 65% of the days. The events usually began at ~10:00 local time and lasted for 1–4 h. They were characterised by the appearance of a nucleation mode with a peak diameter of ~10 nm. The freshly nucleated particles grew within 1–4 h up to sizes of 20–50 nm. The events occurred when solar intensity was high (~1000 W m−2) and RH was low (~60%). Interestingly, the events were not related to tide height. The volatile and hygroscopic properties of freshly nucleated particles (17–22.5 nm), simultaneously measured with a volatility-hygroscopicity-tandem differential mobility analyser (VH-TDMA), were used to infer chemical composition. The majority of the volume of these particles was attributed to internally mixed sulphate and organic components. After ruling out coagulation as a source of significant particle growth, we conclude that the condensation of sulphate and/or organic vapours was most likely responsible for driving particle growth at sizes greater than 10 nm during the nucleation events. Although there was a possibility that the precursor vapours responsible for particle formation and growth had continental sources, on the balance of available data we would suggest that the precursors were most likely of marine/coastal origin. Furthermore, a unique and particularly strong nucleation event was observed during northerly wind. The event began early one morning (08:00) and lasted almost the entire day resulting in the production of a large number of ~80 nm particles (average modal concentration during the event was 3200 cm−3). The Great Barrier Reef was the most likely source of precursor vapours responsible for this event.

Environmental context The atmosphere above Antarctica, the cleanest part of the Earth’s troposphere, serves as a valuable laboratory for studying natural atmospheric processes and for monitoring the impact of human activities on the global environment. Central to these studies is an understanding of long-range transport of pollutants to Antarctica, and distinguishing the relative contribution of natural and anthropogenic sources. We use chemical tracers and isotopic analysis to assess the origin of metals associated with atmospheric particulates in Antarctica. Abstract During the 2010–2011 austral summer, size-segregated aerosol samples were collected at a coastal Antarctic site (Terra Nova Bay, Victoria Land) and analysed for major and trace elements and lead isotopic composition, in order to provide a better understanding of the sources of metals and their transportation pathways towards Antarctica. Aerosol size fractionation was performed by a cascade impactor, able to collect aerosol particles of aerodynamic diameter 10–7.2, 7.2–3.0, 3.0–1.5, 1.5–0.95 and 0.95–0.49µm. It was found that Al, Co, Fe, Li, Mn, Rb, Y and V were mainly related to crustal inputs, whereas the marine contribution was significant for Li, Mg, Na and Rb. An additional anthropogenic source influencing the concentration of Cr, Cu, Mo and Pb was clearly demonstrated. The concentration of the elements associated to the crustal and marine inputs showed high values in the coarse mode (7.2–3.0µm), whereas the anthropogenic elements were also characterised by a high concentration in the finer (1.5–0.95µm) particles. The study of the temporal trends of the measured chemical markers along with the meteorological variables revealed that both the crustal and anthropogenic elements were related to the air masses carried by the katabatic wind from the inland, whereas the marine input appeared to be higher in January when the sea-ice extent was reduced. Finally, lead isotope ratios pointed out that the anthropogenic input was likely related to the polluted aerosols from South America and Australia, representing the predominant fraction (50–70%) of the lead measured in the samples.

Abstract. A month-long intensive measurement campaign was conducted in March/April 2007 at Agnes Water, a remote coastal site just south of the Great Barrier Reef on the east coast of Australia. Particle and ion size distributions were continuously measured during the campaign. Coastal nucleation events were observed in clean, marine air masses coming from the south-east on 65% of the days. The events usually began at ~10:00 local time and lasted for 1–4 h. They were characterised by the appearance of a nucleation mode with a peak diameter of ~10 nm. The freshly nucleated particles grew within 1–4 h up to sizes of 20–50 nm. The events occurred when solar intensity was high (~1000 W m−2) and RH was low (~60%). Interestingly, the events were not related to tide height. The volatile and hygroscopic properties of freshly nucleated particles (17–22.5 nm), simultaneously measured with a volatility-hygroscopicity-tandem differential mobility analyser (VH-TDMA), were used to infer chemical composition. The majority of the volume of these particles was attributed to internally mixed sulphate and organic components. After ruling out coagulation as a source of significant particle growth, we conclude that the condensation of sulphate and/or organic vapours was most likely responsible for driving particle growth during the nucleation events. We cannot make any direct conclusions regarding the chemical species that participated in the initial particle nucleation. However, we suggest that nucleation may have resulted from the photo-oxidation products of unknown sulphur or organic vapours emitted from the waters of Hervey Bay, or from the formation of DMS-derived sulphate clusters over the open ocean that were activated to observable particles by condensable vapours emitted from the nutrient rich waters around Fraser Island or Hervey Bay. Furthermore, a unique and particularly strong nucleation event was observed during northerly wind. The event began early one morning (08:00) and lasted almost the entire day resulting in the production of a large number of ~80 nm particles (average modal concentration during the event was 3200 cm−3). The Great Barrier Reef was the most likely source of precursor vapours responsible for this event.

Abstract. The case study presented here focuses on the life cycle of clouds in the anvil region of a tropical deep convective system. During the SCOUT-O3 campaign from Darwin, Northern Australia, the Hector storm system has been probed by the Geophysica high-altitude aircraft. Clouds were observed by in situ particle probes, a backscatter sonde, and a miniature lidar. Additionally, aerosol number concentrations have been measured. On 30 November 2005 a double flight took place and Hector was probed throughout its life cycle in its developing, mature, and dissipating stage. The two flights were four hours apart and focused on the anvil region of Hector in altitudes between 10.5 and 18.8 km (i.e. above 350 K potential temperature). Trajectory calculations, satellite imagery, and ozone measurements have been used to ensure that the same cloud air masses have been probed in both flights. The size distributions derived from the measurements show a change not only with increasing altitude but also with the evolution of Hector. Clearly different cloud to aerosol particle ratios as well as varying ice crystal morphology have been found for the different development stages of Hector, indicating different freezing mechanisms. The development phase exhibits the smallest ice particles (up to 300 μm) with a rather uniform morphology. This is indicative for rapid glaciation during Hector's development. Sizes of ice crystals are largest in the mature stage (larger than 1.6 mm) and even exceed those of some continental tropical deep convective clouds, also in their number concentrations. The backscatter properties and particle images show a change in ice crystal shape from the developing phase to rimed and aggregated particles in the mature and dissipating stages; the specific shape of particles in the developing phase cannot be distinguished from the measurements. Although optically thin, the clouds in the dissipating stage have a large vertical extent (roughly 6 km) and persist for at least 6 h. Thus, the anvils of these high-reaching deep convective clouds have a high potential for affecting the tropical tropopause layer by modifying the humidity and radiative budget, as well as for providing favourable conditions for subvisible cirrus formation. The involved processes may also influence the amount of water vapour that ultimately reaches the stratosphere in the tropics.

Abstract. We report on one year of high precision direct hourly radon observations at King Sejong Station (King George Island) beginning in February 2013. Findings are compared with historic and ongoing radon measurements from other Antarctic sites. Monthly median concentrations reduced from 72 mBq m−3 in late summer to 44 mBq m−3 in late-winter and early-spring. Monthly 10th percentiles, ranging from 29 to 49 mBq m−3, were typical of oceanic baseline values. Diurnal cycles were rarely evident and local influences were minor, consistent with regional radon flux estimates one tenth of the global average for ice-free land. The predominant fetch region for terrestrially influenced air masses was South America (47–53° S), with minor influences also attributed to aged Australian air masses and local sources. Plume dilution factors of 2.8–4.0 were estimated for the most terrestrially influenced (South American) air masses, and a seasonal cycle in terrestrial influence on tropospheric air descending at the pole was identified and characterised.

Abstract. We report on one year of high-precision direct hourly radon observations at King Sejong Station (King George Island) beginning in February 2013. Findings are compared with historic and ongoing radon measurements from other Antarctic sites. Monthly median concentrations reduced from 72 mBq m−3 in late-summer to 44 mBq m−3 in late winter and early spring. Monthly 10th percentiles, ranging from 29 to 49 mBq m−3, were typical of oceanic baseline values. Diurnal cycles were rarely evident and local influences were minor, consistent with regional radon flux estimates one tenth of the global average for ice-free land. The predominant fetch region for terrestrially influenced air masses was South America (47–53° S), with minor influences also attributed to aged Australian air masses and local sources. Plume dilution factors of 2.8–4.0 were estimated for the most terrestrially influenced (South American) air masses, and a seasonal cycle in terrestrial influence on tropospheric air descending at the pole was identified and characterised.

Abstract. Better characterisation of aerosol processes in pristine, natural environments, such as Antarctica, have recently been shown to lead to the largest reduction in uncertainties in our understanding of radiative forcing. Our understanding of aerosols in the Antarctic region is currently based on measurements that are often limited to boundary layer air masses at spatially sparse coastal and continental research stations, with only a handful of studies in the vast sea-ice region. In this paper, the first observational study of sub-micron aerosols in the East Antarctic sea ice region is presented. Measurements were conducted aboard the icebreaker Aurora Australis in spring 2012 and found that boundary layer condensation nuclei (CN3) concentrations exhibited a five-fold increase moving across the polar front, with mean polar cell concentrations of 1130 cm−3 – higher than any observed elsewhere in the Antarctic and Southern Ocean region. The absence of evidence for aerosol growth suggested that nucleation was unlikely to be local. Air parcel trajectories indicated significant influence from the free troposphere above the Antarctic continent, implicating this as the likely nucleation region for surface aerosol, a similar conclusion to previous Antarctic aerosol studies. The highest aerosol concentrations were found to correlate with low-pressure systems, suggesting that the passage of cyclones provided an accelerated pathway, delivering air masses quickly from the free troposphere to the surface. After descent from the Antarctic free troposphere, trajectories suggest that sea-ice boundary layer air masses travelled equatorward into the low-albedo Southern Ocean region, transporting with them emissions and these aerosol nuclei which, after growth, may potentially impact on the region's radiative balance. The high aerosol concentrations and their transport pathways described here, could help reduce the discrepancy currently present between simulations and observations of cloud and aerosol over the Southern Ocean.

Abstract. The effect of aerosols on clouds and their radiative properties is one of the largest uncertainties in our understanding of radiative forcing. A recent study has concluded that better characterisation of pristine, natural aerosol processes leads to the largest reduction in these uncertainties. Antarctica, being far from anthropogenic activities, is an ideal location for the study of natural aerosol processes. Aerosol measurements in Antarctica are often limited to boundary layer air-masses at spatially sparse coastal and continental research stations, with only a handful of studies in the sea ice region. In this paper, the first observational study of sub-micron aerosols in the East Antarctic sea ice region is presented. Measurements were conducted aboard the ice-breaker Aurora Australis in spring 2012 and found that boundary layer condensation nuclei (CN3) concentrations exhibited a five-fold increase moving across the Polar Front, with mean Polar Cell concentrations of 1130 cm−3 – higher than any observed elsewhere in the Antarctic and Southern Ocean region. The absence of evidence for aerosol growth suggested that nucleation was unlikely to be local. Air parcel trajectories indicated significant influence from the free troposphere above the Antarctic continent, implicating this as the likely nucleation region for surface aerosol, a similar conclusion to previous Antarctic aerosol studies. The highest aerosol concentrations were found to correlate with low pressure systems, suggesting that the passage of cyclones provided an accelerated pathway, delivering air-masses quickly from the free-troposphere to the surface. After descent from the Antarctic free troposphere, trajectories suggest that sea ice boundary layer air-masses travelled equator-ward into the low albedo Southern Ocean region, transporting with them emissions and these aerosol nuclei where, after growth, may potentially impact on the region's radiative balance. The high aerosol concentrations and their transport pathways described here, could help reduce the discrepancy currently present between simulations and observations of cloud and aerosol over the Southern Ocean.

Radiotelemetric monitoring of 18 free-ranging frillneck lizards in Kakadu National Park, combined with dissection of museum specimens, provided extensive data on the natural history and general ecology of this large and spectacular lizard. Activity patterns and reproductive cycles are highly seasonal, with lizards inactive during the drier (and cooler) months of the year. Frillnecks are primarily arboreal and are relatively unselective with regard to the species of tree used except that one common species, Eucalyptus confertyora, is avoided. Telemetered lizards usually clung to branches high in the canopy. During the mating season (November-December), males had larger activity ranges than did females (means of 2.5 vs 0.7 ha) and made longer daily movements (means of 69 vs 23 m). Frillneck lizards bask briefly in the morning, but body temperatures follow ambient temperatures for most of the day. Thermal heterogeneity in the lizards' habitat is low, so opportunities for behavioural regulation (especially reduction) of body temperature are limited. Body temperatures are highly correlated with air temperatures and are often close to 40�C. Female frillnecks are considerably smaller than males, and they produce 4-13 eggs during the wet season. Chlamydosaurus are apparently unique among reptiles in using bipedal locomotion during routine foraging. These lizards are 'sit and wait' predators, descending from arboreal vantage points to seize lepidopteran larvae or massed swarms of hymenopteran or isopteran alates. Many different types of insects are eaten, but vertebrate prey items are rarely taken.

Abstract. We investigated concentrations of organic carbon (OC), elemental carbon (EC), and a wide range of particle-bound organic compounds in daily sampled PM2.5 at the remote Pha Din (PDI) – Global Atmosphere Watch (GAW) monitoring station in northwestern Vietnam during an intense 3-week sampling campaign from 23 March to 12 April 2015. The site is known to receive trans-regional air masses during large-scale biomass burning (BB) episodes. BB is a globally widespread phenomenon and BB emission characterization is of high scientific and societal relevance. Emissions composition is influenced by multiple factors (e.g., fuel and thereby vegetation type, fuel moisture, fire temperature, available oxygen). Due to regional variations in these parameters, studies in different world regions are needed. OC composition provides valuable information regarding the health- and climate-relevant properties of PM2.5. Yet, OC composition studies from PDI are missing in the scientific literature to date. Therefore, we quantified 51 organic compounds simultaneously by in situ derivatization thermal desorption gas chromatography and time-of-flight mass spectrometry (IDTD-GC-TOFMS). Anhydrosugars, methoxyphenols, n-alkanes, fatty acids, polycyclic aromatic hydrocarbons, oxygenated polycyclic aromatic hydrocarbons, nitrophenols, and OC were used in a hierarchical cluster analysis highlighting distinctive patterns for periods under low, medium, and high BB influence. The highest particle phase concentration of the typical primary organic aerosol (POA) and possible secondary organic aerosol (SOA) constituents, especially nitrophenols, were found on 5 and 6 April. We linked the trace gas mixing ratios of methane (CH4), carbon dioxide (CO2), carbon monoxide (CO), and ozone (O3) to the statistical classification of BB events based on OA composition and found increased CO and O3 levels during medium and high BB influence. Likewise, a backward trajectory analysis indicates different source regions for the identified periods based on the OA clusters, with cleaner air masses arriving from the northeast, i.e., mainland China and the Yellow Sea. The more polluted periods are characterized by trajectories from the southwest, with more continental recirculation of the medium cluster and more westerly advection for the high cluster. These findings highlight that BB activities in northern Southeast Asia significantly enhance the regional organic aerosol loading and also affect the carbonaceous PM2.5 constituents and the trace gases in northwestern Vietnam. The presented analysis adds valuable data on the carbonaceous and chemical composition of PM2.5, in particular of OC, in a region of scarce data availability, and thus offers a reference dataset from Southeast Asian large-scale BB for future studies. Such a reference dataset may be useful for the evaluation of atmospheric transport simulation models, or for comparison with other world regions and BB types, such as Australian bush fires, African savannah fires, or tropical peatland fires.

Abstract. The Cenozoic inception and development of the Asian monsoons remain unclear and have generated much debate, as several hypotheses regarding circulation patterns at work in Asia during the Eocene have been proposed in the few last decades. These include (a) the existence of modern-like monsoons since the early Eocene; (b) that of a weak South Asian monsoon (SAM) and little to no East Asian monsoon (EAM); or (c) a prevalence of the Intertropical Convergence Zone (ITCZ) migrations, also referred to as Indonesian–Australian monsoon (I-AM). As SAM and EAM are supposed to have been triggered or enhanced primarily by Asian palaeogeographic changes, their possible inception in the very dynamic Eocene palaeogeographic context remains an open question, both in the modelling and field-based communities. We investigate here Eocene Asian climate conditions using the IPSL-CM5A2 (Sepulchre et al., 2019) earth system model and revised palaeogeographies. Our Eocene climate simulation yields atmospheric circulation patterns in Asia substantially different from modern conditions. A large high-pressure area is simulated over the Tethys ocean, which generates intense low tropospheric winds blowing southward along the western flank of the proto-Himalayan–Tibetan plateau (HTP) system. This low-level wind system blocks, to latitudes lower than 10∘ N, the migration of humid and warm air masses coming from the Indian Ocean. This strongly contrasts with the modern SAM, during which equatorial air masses reach a latitude of 20–25∘ N over India and southeastern China. Another specific feature of our Eocene simulation is the widespread subsidence taking place over northern India in the midtroposphere (around 5000 m), preventing deep convective updraught that would transport water vapour up to the condensation level. Both processes lead to the onset of a broad arid region located over northern India and over the HTP. More humid regions of high seasonality in precipitation encircle this arid area, due to the prevalence of the Intertropical Convergence Zone (ITCZ) migrations (or Indonesian–Australian monsoon, I-AM) rather than monsoons. Although the existence of this central arid region may partly result from the specifics of our simulation (model dependence and palaeogeographic uncertainties) and has yet to be confirmed by proxy records, most of the observational evidence for Eocene monsoons are located in the highly seasonal transition zone between the arid area and the more humid surroundings. We thus suggest that a zonal arid climate prevailed over Asia before the initiation of monsoons that most likely occurred following Eocene palaeogeographic changes. Our results also show that precipitation seasonality should be used with caution to infer the presence of a monsoonal circulation and that the collection of new data in this arid area is of paramount importance to allow the debate to move forward.

Abstract. Within the framework of the AeroCom (Aerosol Comparisons between Observations and Models) initiative, the state-of-the-art modelling of aerosol optical properties is assessed from 14 global models participating in the phase III control experiment (AP3). The models are similar to CMIP6/AerChemMIP Earth System Models (ESMs) and provide a robust multi-model ensemble. Inter-model spread of aerosol species lifetimes and emissions appears to be similar to that of mass extinction coefficients (MECs), suggesting that aerosol optical depth (AOD) uncertainties are associated with a broad spectrum of parameterised aerosol processes. Total AOD is approximately the same as in AeroCom phase I (AP1) simulations. However, we find a 50 % decrease in the optical depth (OD) of black carbon (BC), attributable to a combination of decreased emissions and lifetimes. Relative contributions from sea salt (SS) and dust (DU) have shifted from being approximately equal in AP1 to SS contributing about 2∕3 of the natural AOD in AP3. This shift is linked with a decrease in DU mass burden, a lower DU MEC, and a slight decrease in DU lifetime, suggesting coarser DU particle sizes in AP3 compared to AP1. Relative to observations, the AP3 ensemble median and most of the participating models underestimate all aerosol optical properties investigated, that is, total AOD as well as fine and coarse AOD (AODf, AODc), Ångström exponent (AE), dry surface scattering (SCdry), and absorption (ACdry) coefficients. Compared to AERONET, the models underestimate total AOD by ca. 21 % ± 20 % (as inferred from the ensemble median and interquartile range). Against satellite data, the ensemble AOD biases range from −37 % (MODIS-Terra) to −16 % (MERGED-FMI, a multi-satellite AOD product), which we explain by differences between individual satellites and AERONET measurements themselves. Correlation coefficients (R) between model and observation AOD records are generally high (R>0.75), suggesting that the models are capable of capturing spatio-temporal variations in AOD. We find a much larger underestimate in coarse AODc (∼ −45 % ± 25 %) than in fine AODf (∼ −15 % ± 25 %) with slightly increased inter-model spread compared to total AOD. These results indicate problems in the modelling of DU and SS. The AODc bias is likely due to missing DU over continental land masses (particularly over the United States, SE Asia, and S. America), while marine AERONET sites and the AATSR SU satellite data suggest more moderate oceanic biases in AODc. Column AEs are underestimated by about 10 % ± 16 %. For situations in which measurements show AE > 2, models underestimate AERONET AE by ca. 35 %. In contrast, all models (but one) exhibit large overestimates in AE when coarse aerosol dominates (bias ca. +140 % if observed AE < 0.5). Simulated AE does not span the observed AE variability. These results indicate that models overestimate particle size (or underestimate the fine-mode fraction) for fine-dominated aerosol and underestimate size (or overestimate the fine-mode fraction) for coarse-dominated aerosol. This must have implications for lifetime, water uptake, scattering enhancement, and the aerosol radiative effect, which we can not quantify at this moment. Comparison against Global Atmosphere Watch (GAW) in situ data results in mean bias and inter-model variations of −35 % ± 25 % and −20 % ± 18 % for SCdry and ACdry, respectively. The larger underestimate of SCdry than ACdry suggests the models will simulate an aerosol single scattering albedo that is too low. The larger underestimate of SCdry than ambient air AOD is consistent with recent findings that models overestimate scattering enhancement due to hygroscopic growth. The broadly consistent negative bias in AOD and surface scattering suggests an underestimate of aerosol radiative effects in current global aerosol models. Considerable inter-model diversity in the simulated optical properties is often found in regions that are, unfortunately, not or only sparsely covered by ground-based observations. This includes, for instance, the Sahara, Amazonia, central Australia, and the South Pacific. This highlights the need for a better site coverage in the observations, which would enable us to better assess the models, but also the performance of satellite products in these regions. Using fine-mode AOD as a proxy for present-day aerosol forcing estimates, our results suggest that models underestimate aerosol forcing by ca. −15 %, however, with a considerably large interquartile range, suggesting a spread between −35 % and +10 %.

A diagnostic framework is proposed to assess the influence of star rating improvement for residential buildings on life cycle environmental impacts and life cycle costs (LCEI and LCC) using life cycle assessment (LCA) and life cycle costing methods, respectively, on all life cycle phases (i.e., construction, operation, maintenance, and disposal). A reference house was modified on the basis of six alternative designs to deliver a particular star rating in order to demonstrate the analysis framework. Two LCIA methods (i.e., material flows/add masses and eco-indicator 99 Australian substances) were used to estimate ten LCEI indicators under two categories: seven from problem-oriented (i.e., raw material, air emission, water emission, eco-toxicity, acidification/eutrophication potential, ozone depletion, and climate change) and three from damage-oriented (i.e., resource depletion, ecosystem quality, and effect on human health) categories. The three damage-oriented indicators were combined to evaluate environmental and economic wellbeing on a single eco-point basis. All these combinations of impact indicators can offer three lines of analytical options along with star rating: problem-oriented, damage-oriented, and a variety of problem and damage-oriented LCEIs with LCCs. Hence, the optimum house selection is-based not only on cost or star rating, but also on LCEIs.

As the seasons change, public and private gardens become a riot of colour. Winter shows the scarlet flags of poinsettia – Brisbane's emblem, which, if really a Mexican beauty, has made itself very much at home. The lavender glow of jacaranda and the gold of laburnum, the green umbrella of poinciana crowned with gleaming scarlet, the massed magnificence of magenta bougainvillea, the creamy blossoms and heavy tropical scent of frangipani filling the air with sweetness, the glare of cannas, the pink and white of bauhinia, the old-gold feathers of silky oak and the red and green of hibiscus – these are but a few of the array of colours.C. C. D. BrammallBrisbane has been relentlessly cleared since the first British soldiers and convicts set up at Redcliffe and then moved to the site we know as Brisbane today. As in other Australian colonies the new settlers were keen to grow crops and to exploit the timber both as a building material and later as a rich source of export income. While early explorers and botanists recorded the richness of the vegetation most new settlers saw the landscape as a resource to be exploited, not a pristine environment to be treated with respect.

Abstract. We report on airborne limb and nadir measurements of vertical profiles and total vertical column densities (VCDs) of glyoxal (C2H2O2) in the troposphere, which were performed aboard the German research aircraft HALO (High Altitude and LOng Range) in different regions and seasons around the globe between 2014 and 2019. The airborne nadir and integrated limb profiles agree excellently among each other. Our airborne observations are further compared to collocated glyoxal measurements of the TROPOspheric Monitoring Instrument (TROPOMI), with good agreement between both data sets for glyoxal observations in (1) pristine terrestrial, (2) pristine marine, (3) mixed polluted, and (4) biomass-burning-affected air masses with high glyoxal concentrations. Exceptions to the overall good agreement are observations of (1) faint and aged biomass burning plumes over the oceans and (2) of low-lying biomass burning or anthropogenic plumes in the terrestrial or marine boundary layer, both of which contain elevated glyoxal that is mostly not captured by TROPOMI. These differences in airborne and satellite-detected glyoxal are most likely caused by the overall small contribution of plumes of a limited extent to the total glyoxal absorption in the atmosphere and the difficulty in remotely detecting weak absorbers located close to low reflective surfaces (e.g. the ocean in the visible wavelength range) or within dense aerosol layers. Observations of glyoxal in aged biomass burning plumes (e.g. observed over the tropical Atlantic off the coast of West Africa in summer 2018, off the coast of Brazil by the end of the dry season 2019, and the East China Sea in spring 2018) could be traced back to related wildfires, such as a plume crossing over the Drake Passage that originated from the Australian bushfires in late 2019. Our observations of glyoxal in such aged biomass burning plumes confirm recent findings of enhanced glyoxal and presumably secondary organic aerosol (SOA) formation in aged wildfire plumes from yet-to-be-identified, longer-lived organic precursor molecules (e.g. aromatics, acetylene, or aliphatic compounds) co-emitted in the fires. Furthermore, elevated glyoxal (median 44 ppt – parts per trillion), as compared to other marine regions (median 10–19 ppt), is observed in the boundary layer over the tropical oceans, which is well in agreement with previous reports. The airborne data sets are further compared to glyoxal simulations performed with the global atmosphere chemistry model EMAC (ECHAM/MESSy Atmospheric Chemistry). When using an EMAC set up that resembles recent EMAC studies focusing on complex chemistry, reasonable agreement is found for pristine air masses (e.g. the unperturbed free and upper troposphere), but a notable glyoxal overestimation of the model exists for regions with high emissions of glyoxal and glyoxal-producing volatile organic compounds (VOCs) from the biosphere (e.g. the Amazon). In all other investigated regions, the model underpredicts glyoxal to varying degrees, in particular when probing mixed emissions from anthropogenic activities (e.g. over continental Europe, the Mediterranean, and East China Sea) and potentially from the sea (e.g. the tropical oceans). Also, the model tends to largely underpredict glyoxal in city plumes and aged biomass burning plumes. The potential causes for these differences are likely to be multifaceted, but they all point to missing glyoxal sources from the degradation of the mixture of potentially longer-chained organic compounds emitted from anthropogenic activities, biomass burning, and from the organic microlayer of the sea surface.

Abstract A description is provided for Bipolaris crustacea. Information is included on the disease caused by the organism, its transmission, geographical distribution, and hosts. HOSTS: Sporobolus sp. DISEASE: Attacking inflorescences of Sporobolus forming black, crustose fungal masses which completely or partly envelop the inflorescences. GEOGRAPHICAL DISTRIBUTION: Australia, Burma, Indonesia, Philippines, Papua New Guinea, South Africa. TRANSMISSION: By infected seeds and air-borne conidia.

On 19 January 1975, Australia’s first youth station 2JJ (Double Jay) launched itself onto the nation’s airwaves with a NASA-style countdown and You Only Like Me ‘Cause I’m Good in Bed by Australian band Skyhooks. Refused airtime by the commercial stations because of its explicit sexual content, this song was a clear signifier of the new station’s intent—to occupy a more radical territory on Australian radio. Indeed, Double Jay’s musical entrée into the highly restrictive local broadcasting environment of the time has gone on to symbolise both the station’s role in its early days as an enfant terrible of radio (Inglis 376), and its near 40 years as a voice for youth culture in Australia (Milesago, Double Jay). In this paper we explore the proposition that Double Jay functioned as an outlet for youth counterculture in Australia, and that it achieved this even with (and arguably because of) its credentials as a state-generated entity. This proposition is considered via brief analysis of the political and musical context leading to the establishment of Double Jay. We intend to demonstrate that although the station was deeply embedded in “the system” in material and cultural terms, it simultaneously existed in an “uneasy symbiosis” (Martin and Siehl 54) with this system because it consciously railed against the mainstream cultures from which it drew, providing a public and active vehicle for youth counterculture in Australia. The origins of Double Jay thus provide one example of the complicated relationship between culture and counterculture, and the multiple ways in which the two are inextricably linked. As a publicly-funded broadcasting station Double Jay was liberated from the industrial imperatives of Australia’s commercial stations which arguably drove their predisposition for formula. The absence of profit motive gave Double Jay’s organisers greater room to experiment with format and content, and thus the potential to create a genuine alternative in Australia broadcasting. As a youth station Double Jay was created to provide a minority with its own outlet. The Labor government committed to wrenching airspace from the very restrictive Australian broadcasting “system” (Wiltshire and Stokes 2) to provide minority voices with room to speak and to be heard. Youth was identified by the government as one such minority. The Australian Broadcasting Commission (ABC) contributed to this process by enabling young staffers to establish the semi-independent Contemporary Radio Unit (CRU) (Webb) and within this a youth station. Not only did this provide a focal point around which a youth collective could coalesce, but the distinct place and identity of Double Jay within the ABC offered its organisers the opportunity to ignore or indeed subvert some of the perceived strictures of the “mothership” that was the ABC, whether in organisational, content and/or stylistic terms. For these and other reasons Double Jay was arguably well positioned to counter the broadcasting cultures that existed alongside this station. It did so stylistically, and also in more fundamental ways, At the same time, however, it “pillaged the host body at random” (Webb) co-opting certain aspects of these cultures (people, scheduling, content, administration) which in turn implicated Double Jay in the material and cultural practices of those mainstream cultures against which it railed. Counterculture on the Airwaves: Space for Youth to Play? Before exploring these themes further, we should make clear that Double Jay’s legitimacy as a “counterculture” organisation is observably tenuous against the more extreme renderings of the concept. Theodore Roszak, for example, requires of counterculture something “so radically disaffiliated from the mainstream assumptions of our society that it scarcely looks to many as a culture at all” (5). Double Jay was a brainchild of the state: an outcome of the Whitlam Government’s efforts to open up the nation’s airwaves (Davis, Government; McClelland). Further, the supervision of this station was given to the publicly funded Australian national broadcaster, the ABC (Inglis). Any claim Double Jay has to counterculture status then is arguably located in less radical invocations of the term. Some definitions, for example, hold that counterculture contains value systems that run counter to culture, but these values are relational rather than divorced from each other. Kenneth Leech, for example, states that counterculture is "a way of life and philosophy which at central points is in conflict with the mainstream society” (Desmond et al. 245, our emphasis); E.D. Batzell defines counterculture as "a minority culture marked by a set of values, norms and behaviour patterns which contradict those of the dominant society" (116, our emphasis). Both definitions imply that counterculture requires the mainstream to make sense of what it is doing and why. In simple terms then, counterculture as the ‘other’ does not exist without its mainstream counterpoint. The particular values with which counterculture is in conflict are generated by “the system” (Heath and Potter 6)—a system that imbues “manufactured needs and mass-produced desires” (Frank 15) in the masses to encourage order, conformity and consumption. Counterculture seeks to challenge this “system” via individualist, expression-oriented values such as difference, diversity, change, egalitarianism, and spontaneity (Davis On Youth; Leary; Thompson and Coskuner‐Balli). It is these kinds of counterculture values that we demonstrate were embedded in the content, style and management practices within Double Jay. The Whitlam Years and the Birth of Double Jay Double Jay was borne of the Whitlam government’s brief but impactful period in office from 1972 to 1975, after 23 years of conservative government in Australia. Key to the Labor Party’s election platform was the principle of participatory democracy, the purpose of which was “breaking down apathy and maximising active citizen engagement” (Cunningham 123). Within this framework, the Labor Party committed to opening the airwaves, and reconfiguring the rhetoric of communication and media as a space of and for the people (Department of the Media 3). Labor planned to honour this commitment via sweeping reforms that would counter the heavily concentrated Australian media landscape through “the encouragement of diversification of ownership of commercial radio and television”—and in doing so enable “the expression of a plurality of viewpoints and cultures throughout the media” (Department of the Media 3). Minority groups in particular were to be privileged, while some in the Party even argued for voices that would actively agitate. Senator Jim McClelland, for one, declared, “We say that somewhere in the system there must be broadcasting which not only must not be afraid to be controversial but has a duty to be controversial” (Senate Standing Committee 4). One clear voice of controversy to emerge in the 1960s and resonate throughout the 1970s was the voice of youth (Gerster and Bassett; Langley). Indeed, counterculture is considered by some as synonymous with a particular strain of youth culture during this time (Roszak; Leech). The Labor Government acknowledged this hitherto unrecognised voice in its 1972 platform, with Minister for the Media Senator Doug McClelland claiming that his party would encourage the “whetting of the appetite” for “life and experimentation” of Australia’s youth – in particular through support for the arts (160). McClelland secured licenses for two “experimental-type” stations under the auspices of the ABC, with the youth station destined for Sydney via the ABC’s standby transmitter in Gore Hill (ABCB, 2). Just as the political context in early 1970s Australia provided the necessary conditions for the appearance of Double Jay, so too did the cultural context. Counterculture emerged in the UK, USA and Europe as a clear and potent force in the late 1960s (Roszak; Leech; Frank; Braunstein and Doyle). In Australia this manifested in the 1960s and 1970s in various ways, including political protest (Langley; Horne); battles for the liberalisation of censorship (Hope and Dickerson, Liberalisation; Chipp and Larkin); sex and drugs (Dawson); and the art film scene (Hope and Dickerson, Happiness; Thoms). Of particular interest here is the “lifestyle” aspect of counterculture, within which the value-expressions against the dominant culture manifest in cultural products and practices (Bloodworth 304; Leary ix), and more specifically, music. Many authors have suggested that music was pivotal to counterculture (Bloodworth 309; Leech 8), a key “social force” through which the values of counterculture were articulated (Whiteley 1). The youth music broadcasting scene in Australia was extremely narrow prior to Double Jay, monopolised by a handful of media proprietors who maintained a stranglehold over the youth music scene from the mid-50s. This dominance was in part fuelled by the rising profitability of pop music, driven by “the dreamy teenage market”, whose spending was purely discretionary (Doherty 52) and whose underdeveloped tastes made them “immune to any sophisticated disdain of run-of-the-mill” cultural products (Doherty 230-231). Over the course of the 1950s the commercial stations pursued this market by “skewing” their programs toward the youth demographic (Griffen-Foley 264). The growing popularity of pop music saw radio shift from a “multidimensional” to “mono-dimensional” medium according to rock journalist Bruce Elder, in which the “lowest-common-denominator formula of pop song-chat-commercial-pop-song” dominated the commercial music stations (12). Emblematic of this mono-dimensionalism was the appearance of the Top 40 Playlist in 1958 (Griffin-Foley 265), which might see as few as 10–15 songs in rotation in peak shifts. Elder claims that this trend became more pronounced over the course of the 1960s and peaked in 1970, with playlists that were controlled with almost mechanical precision [and] compiled according to American-devised market research methods which tended to reinforce repetition and familiarity at the expense of novelty and diversity. (12) Colin Vercoe, whose job was to sell the music catalogues of Festival Records to stations like 2UE, 2SER and SUW, says it was “an incredibly frustrating affair” to market new releases because of the rigid attachment by commercials to the “Top 40 of endless repeats” (Vercoe). While some air time was given to youth music beyond the Top 40, this happened mostly in non-peak shifts and on weekends. Bill Drake at 2SM (who was poached by Double Jay and allowed to reclaim his real name, Holger Brockmann) played non-Top 40 music in his Sunday afternoon programme The Album Show (Brockmann). A more notable exception was Chris Winter’s Room to Move on the ABC, considered by many as the predecessor of Double Jay. Introduced in 1971, Room to Move played all forms of contemporary music not represented by the commercial broadcasters, including whole albums and B sides. Rock music’s isolation to the fringes was exacerbated by the lack of musical sales outlets for rock and other forms of non-pop music, with much music sourced through catalogues, music magazines and word of mouth (Winter; Walker). In this context a small number of independent record stores, like Anthem Records in Sydney and Archie and Jugheads in Melbourne, appear in the early 1970s. Vercoe claims that the commercial record companies relentlessly pursued the closure of these independents on the grounds they were illegal entities: The record companies hated them and they did everything they could do close them down. When (the companies) bought the catalogue to overseas music, they bought the rights. And they thought these record stores were impinging on their rights. It was clear that a niche market existed for rock and alternative forms of music. Keith Glass and David Pepperell from Archie and Jugheads realised this when stock sold out in the first week of trade. Pepperell notes, “We had some feeling we were doing something new relating to people our own age but little idea of the forces we were about to unleash”. Challenging the “System” from the Inside At the same time as interested individuals clamoured to buy from independent record stores, the nation’s first youth radio station was being instituted within the ABC. In October 1974, three young staffers—Marius Webb, Ron Moss and Chris Winter— with the requisite youth credentials were briefed by ABC executives to build a youth-style station for launch in January 1975. According to Winter “All they said was 'We want you to set up a station for young people' and that was it!”, leaving the three with a conceptual carte blanche–although assumedly within the working parameters of the ABC (Webb). A Contemporary Radio Unit (CRU) was formed in order to meet the requirements of the ABC while also creating a clear distinction between the youth station and the ABC. According to Webb “the CRU gave us a lot of latitude […] we didn’t have to go to other ABC Departments to do things”. The CRU was conscious from the outset of positioning itself against the mainstream practices of both the commercial stations and the ABC. The publicly funded status of Double Jay freed it from the shackles of profit motive that enslaved the commercial stations, in turn liberating its turntables from baser capitalist imperatives. The two coordinators Ron Moss and Marius Webb also bypassed the conventions of typecasting the announcer line-up (as was practice in both commercial and ABC radio), seeking instead people with charisma, individual style and youth appeal. Webb told the Sydney Morning Herald that Double Jay’s announcers were “not required to have a frontal lobotomy before they go on air.” In line with the individual- and expression-oriented character of the counterculture lifestyle, it was made clear that “real people” with “individuality and personality” would fill the airwaves of Double Jay (Nicklin 9). The only formula to which the station held was to avoid (almost) all formula – a mantra enhanced by the purchase in the station’s early days of thousands of albums and singles from 10 or so years of back catalogues (Robinson). This library provided presenters with the capacity to circumvent any need for repetition. According to Winter the DJs “just played whatever we wanted”, from B sides to whole albums of music, most of which had never made it onto Australian radio. The station also adapted the ABC tradition of recording live classical music, but instead recorded open-air rock concerts and pub gigs. A recording van built from second-hand ABC equipment captured the grit of Sydney’s live music scene for Double Jay, and in so doing undercut the polished sounds of its commercial counterparts (Walker). Double Jay’s counterculture tendencies further extended to its management style. The station’s more political agitators, led by Webb, sought to subvert the traditional top-down organisational model in favour of a more egalitarian one, including a battle with the ABC to remove the bureaucratic distinction between technical staff and presenters and replace this with the single category “producer/presenter” (Cheney, Webb, Davis 41). The coordinators also actively subverted their own positions as coordinators by holding leaderless meetings open to all Double Jay employees – meetings that were infamously long and fraught, but also remembered as symbolic of the station’s vibe at that time (Frolows, Matchett). While Double Jay assumed the ABC’s focus on music, news and comedy, at times it politicised the content contra to the ABC’s non-partisan policy, ignored ABC policy and practice, and more frequently pushed its contents over the edges of what was considered propriety and taste. These trends were already present in pockets of the ABC prior to Double Jay: in current affairs programmes like This Day Tonight and Four Corners (Harding 49); and in overtly leftist figures like Alan Ashbolt (Bowman), who it should be noted had a profound influence over Webb and other Double Jay staff (Webb). However, such an approach to radio still remained on the edges of the ABC. As one example of Double Jay’s singularity, Webb made clear that the ABC’s “gentleman’s agreement” with the Federation of Australian Commercial Broadcasters to ban certain content from airplay would not apply to Double Jay because the station would not “impose any censorship on our people” – a fact demonstrated by the station’s launch song (Nicklin 9). The station’s “people” in turn made the most of this freedom with the production of programmes like Gayle Austin’s Horny Radio Porn Show, the Naked Vicar Show, the adventures of Colonel Chuck Chunder of the Space Patrol, and the Sunday afternoon comic improvisations of Nude Radio from the team that made Aunty Jack. This openness also made its way into the news team, most famously in its second month on air with the production of The Ins and Outs of Love, a candid documentary of the sexual proclivities and encounters of Sydney’s youth. Conservative ABC staffer Clement Semmler described the programme as containing such “disgustingly explicit accounts of the sexual behaviour of young teenagers” that it “aroused almost universal obloquy from listeners and the press” (35). The playlist, announcers, comedy sketches, news reporting and management style of Double Jay represented direct challenges to the entrenched media culture of Australia in the mid 1970s. The Australian National Commission for UNESCO noted at the time that Double Jay was “variously described as political, subversive, offensive, pornographic, radical, revolutionary and obscene” (7). While these terms were understandable given the station’s commitment to experiment and innovation, the “vital point” about Double Jay was that it “transmitted an electronic reflection of change”: What the station did was to zero in on the kind of questioning of traditional values now inherent in a significant section of the under 30s population. It played their music, talked in their jargon, pandered to their whims, tastes, prejudices and societal conflicts both intrinsic and extrinsic. (48) Conclusion From the outset, Double Jay was locked in an “uneasy symbiosis” with mainstream culture. On the one hand, the station was established by federal government and its infrastructure was provided by state funds. It also drew on elements of mainstream broadcasting in multiple ways. However, at the same time, it was a voice for and active agent of counterculture, representing through its content, form and style those values that were considered to challenge the ‘system,’ in turn creating an outlet for the expression of hitherto un-broadcast “ways of thinking and being” (Leary). As Henry Rosenbloom, press secretary to then Labor Minister Dr Moss Cass wrote, Double Jay had the potential to free its audience “from an automatic acceptance of the artificial rhythms of urban and suburban life. In a very real sense, JJ [was] a deconditioning agent” (Inglis 375-6). While Double Jay drew deeply from mainstream culture, its skilful and playful manipulation of this culture enabled it to both reflect and incite youth-based counterculture in Australia in the 1970s. References Australian Broadcasting Control Board. Development of National Broadcasting and Television Services. ABCB: Sydney, 1976. Batzell, E.D. “Counter-Culture.” Blackwell Dictionary of Twentieth-Century Social Thought. Eds. Williams Outhwaite and Tom Bottomore. Oxford: Blackwell, 1994. 116-119. Bloodworth, John David. “Communication in the Youth Counterculture: Music as Expression.” Central States Speech Journal 26.4 (1975): 304-309. Bowman, David. “Radical Giant of Australian Broadcasting: Allan Ashbolt, Lion of the ABC, 1921-2005.” Sydney Morning Herald 15 June 2005. 15 Sep. 2013 ‹http://www.smh.com.au/news/Obituaries/Radical-giant-of-Australian-broadcasting/2005/06/14/1118645805607.html›. Braunstein, Peter, and Michael William Doyle. Eds. Imagine Nation: The American Counterculture of the 1960s and '70s New York: Taylor and Francis, 2002. Brockman, Holger. Personal interview. 8 December 2013. Cheney, Roz. Personal interview. 10 July 2013. Chipp, Don, and John Larkin. Don Chipp: The Third Man. Adelaide: Rigby, 2008. Cunningham, Frank. Theories of Democracy: A Critical Introduction. London: Routledge, 2002. Davis, Fred. On Youth Subcultures: The Hippie Variant. New York: General Learning Press, 1971. Davis, Glyn. "Government Decision‐Making and the ABC: The 2JJ Case." Politics 19.2 (1984): 34-42. Dawson, Jonathan. "JJJ: Radical Radio?." Continuum: Journal of Media & Cultural Studies 6.1 (1992): 37-44. Department of the Media. Submission by the Department of the Media to the Independent Inquiry into Frequency Modulation Broadcasting. Sydney: Australian Government Publishers, 1974. Desmond, John, Pierre McDonagh, and Stephanie O'Donohoe. “Counter-Culture and Consumer Society.” Consumption Markets & Culture 4.3 (2000): 241-279. Doherty, Thomas. Teenagers and Teenpics: The Juvenilization of American Movies in the 1950s. Boston: Unwin Hyman, 1988. Elder, Bruce. Sound Experiment. Unpublished manuscript, 1988. Australian National Commission for UNESCO. Extract from Seminar on Entertainment and Society, Report on Research Project. 1976. Frolows, Arnold. Personal interview. 10 July 2013. Frank, Thomas. The Conquest of Cool: Business Culture, Counterculture, and the Rise of Hip Consumerism. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1997. Gerster, Robin, and Jan Bassett. Seizures of Youth: The Sixties and Australia. Melbourne: Hyland House, 1991. Griffen-Foley, Bridget. Changing Stations: The Story of Australian Commercial Radio, Sydney: UNSW Press, 2009. Harding, Richard. Outside Interference: The Politics of Australian Broadcasting. Melbourne: Sun Books, 1979. Heath, Joseph, and Andrew Potter. Nation of Rebels: Why Counterculture Became Consumer Culture. New York: Harper Collins, 2004. Hope, Cathy, and Adam Dickerson. “The Sydney and Melbourne Film Festivals, and the Liberalisation of Film Censorship in Australia”. Screening the Past 35 (2012). 12 Aug. 2014 ‹http://www.screeningthepast.com/2012/12/the-sydney-and-melbourne-film-festivals-and-the-liberalisation-of-film-censorship-in-australia/›. Hope, Cathy, and Adam Dickerson. “Is Happiness Festival-Shaped Any Longer? The Melbourne and Sydney Film Festivals and the Growth of Australian Film Culture 1973-1977”. Screening the Past 38 (2013). 12 Aug. 2014 ‹http://www.screeningthepast.com/2013/12/‘is-happiness-festival-shaped-any-longer’-the-melbourne-and-sydney-film-festivals-and-the-growth-of-australian-film-culture-1973-1977/›. Horne, Donald. Time of Hope: Australia 1966-72. Sydney: Angus and Robertson, 1980. Inglis, Ken. This Is the ABC: The Australian Broadcasting Commission, 1932-1983. Melbourne: Melbourne University Press, 1983. Langley, Greg. A Decade of Dissent: Vietnam and the Conflict on the Australian Homefront. Sydney: Allen and Unwin, 1992. Leary, Timothy. “Foreword.” Counterculture through the Ages: From Abraham to Acid House. Eds. Ken Goffman and Dan Joy. New York: Villard, 2007. ix-xiv. Leech, Kenneth. Youthquake: The Growth of a Counter-Culture through Two Decades. London: Sheldon Press, 1973. Martin, J., and C. Siehl. "Organizational Culture and Counterculture: An Uneasy Symbiosis. Organizational Dynamics, 12.2 (1983): 52-64. Martin, Peter. Personal interview. 10 July 2014. Matchett, Stuart. Personal interview. 10 July 2013. McClelland, Douglas. “The Arts and Media.” Towards a New Australia under a Labor Government. Ed. John McLaren. Victoria: Cheshire Publishing, 1972. McClelland, Douglas. Personal interview. 25 August 2010. Milesago. “Double Jay: The First Year”. n.d. 8 Oct. 2012 ‹http://www.milesago.com/radio/2jj.htm›. Milesago. “Part 5: 1971-72 - Sundown and 'Archie & Jughead's”. n.d. Keith Glass – A Life in Music. 12 Oct. 2012 ‹http://www.milesago.com/Features/keithglass5.htm›. Nicklin, Lenore. “Rock (without the Roll) around the Clock.” Sydney Morning Herald 18 Jan. 1975: 9. Robinson, Ted. Personal interview. 11 December 2013. Roszak, Theodore. The Making of a Counter Culture. New York: Anchor, 1969. Semmler, Clement. The ABC - Aunt Sally and Sacred Cow. Carlton: Melbourne University Press, 1981. Senate Standing Committee on Education, Science and the Arts and Jim McClelland. Second Progress Report on the Reference, All Aspects of Television and Broadcasting, Including Australian Content of Television Programmes. Canberra: Australian Senate, 1973. Thompson, Craig J., and Gokcen Coskuner‐Balli. "Countervailing Market Responses to Corporate Co‐optation and the Ideological Recruitment of Consumption Communities." Journal of Consumer Research 34.2 (2007): 135-152. Thoms, Albie. “The Australian Avant-garde.” An Australian Film Reader. Eds. Albert Moran and Tom O’Regan. Sydney: Currency Press, 1985. 279–280. Vercoe, Colin. Personal interview. 11 Feb. 2014. Walker, Keith. Personal interview. 11 July 2013. Webb, Marius. Personal interview. 5 Feb. 2013. Whiteley, Sheila. The Space between the Notes: Rock and the Counter-Culture. London: Routledge, 1992. Wiltshire, Kenneth, and Charles Stokes. Government Regulation and the Electronic Commercial Media. Monograph M43. Melbourne: Committee for Economic Development of Australia, 1976. Winter, Chris. Personal interview. 16 Mar. 2013.

AbstractA field experiment was carried out in plant litter decomposition at three sites of the Balaton System (Balaton — Kis Balaton wetland — Zala Mouth) differing in their environment type during winter 2019/2020. The largest freshwater shallow lake in Central Europe (Carpathian Basin) is the Balaton, with a surface area of about 600 km2 and an average depth of 3.25 m. Right around the lake, a nutrient filtering system, the Kis-Balaton wetland, is functioning to avoid water deterioration and eutrophication. The aim of the study was to investigate crop-weather relations in two sample species, the widely distributed native P. australis and the allied S. canadensis incubated beneath the water using leaf-bag technique to characterise plant organ decomposition. Based on our results, the most consistent meteorological variable regarding decomposition process was global radiation (r = − 0.62* to − 0.91**; r: correlation coefficient; * and ** mean that correlations are significant at the 0.05 and 0.01 levels), in each treatment. In modelling the decomposition process, out of eight meteorological variables, only the daily mean air temperatures and humidity were excluded from regression equations. On dominatingly windy days, with the increase in water temperature of the Zala Mouth, the sensitivity of the decomposition of S. canadensis litter tended to decrease as compared to P. australis. The remaining litter masses were in a Kis-Balaton > Balaton > Zala order, contrasting the water temperature gradient that decreased from the Zala to the Kis-Balaton wetland under wind-dominated conditions. Considering all sampling places in three aquatic ecosystems, there was a 2.2 and a 2.7% daily mean detritus mass loss in P. australis and S. canadensis, respectively. We concluded that the invasive S. canadensis litter decomposed more quickly than those of native P. australis, irrespective to sampling site. Increase in winter water temperature significantly promoted the litter decomposition of both plant species. The originality of the study is that it quantifies the litter decomposition for an Eastern European wetland, during wintertime.

1. Guy Debord in the Land of the Long WeekendIt’s the weekend – leisure time. It’s the interlude when, Guy Debord contends, the proletarian is briefly free of the “total contempt so clearly built into every aspect of the organization and management of production” in commodity capitalism; when workers are temporarily “treated like grown-ups, with a great show of solicitude and politeness, in their new role as consumers.” But this patronising show turns out to be another form of subjection to the diktats of “political economy”: “the totality of human existence falls under the regime of the ‘perfected denial of man’.” (30). As Debord suggests, even the creation of leisure time and space is predicated upon a form of contempt: the “perfected denial” of who we, as living people, really are in the eyes of those who presume the power to legislate our working practices and private identities.This Saturday The Weekend Australian runs an opinion piece by Christopher Pearson, defending ABC Radio National’s Stephen Crittenden, whose program The Religion Report has been axed. “Some of Crittenden’s finest half-hours have been devoted to Islam in Australia in the wake of September 11,” Pearson writes. “Again and again he’s confronted a left-of-centre audience that expected multi-cultural pieties with disturbing assertions.” Along the way in this admirable Crusade, Pearson notes that Crittenden has exposed “the Left’s recent tendency to ally itself with Islam.” According to Pearson, Crittenden has also thankfully given oxygen to claims by James Cook University’s Mervyn Bendle, the “fairly conservative academic whose work sometimes appears in [these] pages,” that “the discipline of critical terrorism studies has been captured by neo-Marxists of a postmodern bent” (30). Both of these points are well beyond misunderstanding or untested proposition. If Pearson means them sincerely he should be embarrassed and sacked. But of course he does not and will not be. These are deliberate lies, the confabulations of an eminent right-wing culture warrior whose job is to vilify minorities and intellectuals (Bendle escapes censure as an academic because he occasionally scribbles for the Murdoch press). It should be observed, too, how the patent absurdity of Pearson’s remarks reveals the extent to which he holds the intelligence of his readers in contempt. And he is not original in peddling these toxic wares.In their insightful—often hilarious—study of Australian opinion writers, The War on Democracy, Niall Lucy and Steve Mickler identify the left-academic-Islam nexus as the brain-child of former Treasurer-cum-memoirist Peter Costello. The germinal moment was “a speech to the Australian American Leadership Dialogue forum at the Art Gallery of NSW in 2005” concerning anti-Americanism in Australian schools. Lucy and Mickler argue that “it was only a matter of time” before a conservative politician or journalist took the plunge to link the left and terrorism, and Costello plunged brilliantly. He drew a mental map of the Great Chain of Being: left-wing academics taught teacher trainees to be anti-American; teacher trainees became teachers and taught kids to be anti-American; anti-Americanism morphs into anti-Westernism; anti-Westernism veers into terrorism (38). This is contempt for the reasoning capacity of the Australian people and, further still, contempt for any observable reality. Not for nothing was Costello generally perceived by the public as a politician whose very physiognomy radiated smugness and contempt.Recycling Costello, Christopher Pearson’s article subtly interpellates the reader as an ordinary, common-sense individual who instinctively feels what’s right and has no need to think too much—thinking too much is the prerogative of “neo-Marxists” and postmodernists. Ultimately, Pearson’s article is about channelling outrage: directing the down-to-earth passions of the Australian people against stock-in-trade culture-war hate figures. And in Pearson’s paranoid world, words like “neo-Marxist” and “postmodern” are devoid of historical or intellectual meaning. They are, as Lucy and Mickler’s War on Democracy repeatedly demonstrate, mere ciphers packed with the baggage of contempt for independent critical thought itself.Contempt is everywhere this weekend. The Weekend Australian’s colour magazine runs a feature story on Malcolm Turnbull: one of those familiar profiles designed to reveal the everyday human touch of the political classes. In this puff-piece, Jennifer Hewett finds Turnbull has “a restless passion for participating in public life” (20); that beneath “the aggressive political rhetoric […] behind the journalist turned lawyer turned banker turned politician turned would-be prime minister is a man who really enjoys that human interaction, however brief, with the many, many ordinary people he encounters” (16). Given all this energetic turning, it’s a wonder that Turnbull has time for human interactions at all. The distinction here of Turnbull and “many, many ordinary people” – the anonymous masses – surely runs counter to Hewett’s brief to personalise and quotidianise him. Likewise, those two key words, “however brief”, have an unfortunate, unintended effect. Presumably meant to conjure a picture of Turnbull’s hectic schedules and serial turnings, the words also convey the image of a patrician who begrudgingly knows one of the costs of a political career is that common flesh must be pressed—but as gingerly as possible.Hewett proceeds to disclose that Turnbull is “no conservative cultural warrior”, “onfounds stereotypes” and “hates labels” (like any baby-boomer rebel) and “has always read widely on political philosophy—his favourite is Edmund Burke”. He sees the “role of the state above all as enabling people to do their best” but knows that “the main game is the economy” and is “content to play mainstream gesture politics” (19). I am genuinely puzzled by this and imagine that my intelligence is being held in contempt once again. That the man of substance is given to populist gesturing is problematic enough; but that the Burke fan believes the state is about personal empowerment is just too much. Maybe Turnbull is a fan of Burke’s complex writings on the sublime and the beautiful—but no, Hewett avers, Turnbull is engaged by Burke’s “political philosophy”. So what is it in Burke that Turnbull finds to favour?Turnbull’s invocation of Edmund Burke is empty, gestural and contradictory. The comfortable notion that the state helps people to realise their potential is contravened by Burke’s view that the state functions so “the inclinations of men should frequently be thwarted, their will controlled, and their passions brought into subjection… by a power out of themselves” (151). Nor does Burke believe that anyone of humble origins could or should rise to the top of the social heap: “The occupation of an hair-dresser, or of a working tallow-chandler, cannot be a matter of honour to any person… the state suffers oppression, if such as they, either individually or collectively, are permitted to rule” (138).If Turnbull’s main game as a would-be statesman is the economy, Burke profoundly disagrees: “the state ought not to be considered as nothing better than a partnership agreement in a trade of pepper and coffee, callico or tobacco, or some other such low concern… It is a partnership in all science; a partnership in all art; a partnership in every virtue, and in all perfection”—a sublime entity, not an economic manager (194). Burke understands, long before Antonio Gramsci or Louis Althusser, that individuals or social fractions must be made admirably “obedient” to the state “by consent or force” (195). Burke has a verdict on mainstream gesture politics too: “When men of rank sacrifice all ideas of dignity to an ambition without a distinct object, and work with low instruments and for low ends, the whole composition [of the state] becomes low and base” (136).Is Malcolm Turnbull so contemptuous of the public that he assumes nobody will notice the gross discrepancies between his own ideals and what Burke stands for? His invocation of Burke is, indeed, “mainstream gesture politics”: on one level, “Burke” signifies nothing more than Turnbull’s performance of himself as a deep thinker. In this process, the real Edmund Burke is historically erased; reduced to the status of stage-prop in the theatrical production of Turnbull’s mass-mediated identity. “Edmund Burke” is re-invented as a term in an aesthetic repertoire.This transmutation of knowledge and history into mere cipher is the staple trick of culture-war discourse. Jennifer Hewett casts Turnbull as “no conservative culture warrior”, but he certainly shows a facility with culture-war rhetoric. And as much as Turnbull “confounds stereotypes” his verbal gesture to Edmund Burke entrenches a stereotype: at another level, the incantation “Edmund Burke” is implicitly meant to connect Turnbull with conservative tradition—in the exact way that John Howard regularly self-nominated as a “Burkean conservative”.This appeal to tradition effectively places “the people” in a power relation. Tradition has a sublimity that is bigger than us; it precedes us and will outlast us. Consequently, for a politician to claim that tradition has fashioned him, that he is welded to it or perhaps even owns it as part of his heritage, is to glibly imply an authority greater than that of “the many, many ordinary people”—Burke’s hair-dressers and tallow-chandlers—whose company he so briefly enjoys.In The Ideology of the Aesthetic, Terry Eagleton assesses one of Burke’s important legacies, placing him beside another eighteenth-century thinker so loved by the right—Adam Smith. Ideology of the Aesthetic is premised on the view that “Aesthetics is born as a discourse of the body”; that the aesthetic gives form to the “primitive materialism” of human passions and organises “the whole of our sensate life together… a society’s somatic, sensational life” (13). Reading Smith’s Theory of Moral Sentiments, Eagleton discerns that society appears as “an immense machine, whose regular and harmonious movements produce a thousand agreeable effects”, like “any production of human art”. In Smith’s work, the “whole of social life is aestheticized” and people inhabit “a social order so spontaneously cohesive that its members no longer need to think about it.” In Burke, Eagleton discovers that the aesthetics of “manners” can be understood in terms of Gramscian hegemony: “in the aesthetics of social conduct, or ‘culture’ as it would later be called, the law is always with us, as the very unconscious structure of our life”, and as a result conformity to a dominant ideological order is deeply felt as pleasurable and beautiful (37, 42). When this conservative aesthetic enters the realm of politics, Eagleton contends, the “right turn, from Burke” onwards follows a dark trajectory: “forget about theoretical analysis… view society as a self-grounding organism, all of whose parts miraculously interpenetrate without conflict and require no rational justification. Think with the blood and the body. Remember that tradition is always wiser and richer than one’s own poor, pitiable ego. It is this line of descent, in one of its tributaries, which will lead to the Third Reich” (368–9).2. Jean Baudrillard, the Nazis and Public MemoryIn 1937, during the Spanish Civil War, the Third Reich’s Condor Legion of the Luftwaffe was on loan to Franco’s forces. On 26 April that year, the Condor Legion bombed the market-town of Guernica: the first deliberate attempt to obliterate an entire town from the air and the first experiment in what became known as “terror bombing”—the targeting of civilians. A legacy of this violence was Pablo Picasso’s monumental canvas Guernica – the best-known anti-war painting in art history.When US Secretary of State Colin Powell addressed the United Nations on 5 February 2003 to make the case for war on Iraq, he stopped to face the press in the UN building’s lobby. The doorstop was globally televised, packaged as a moment of incredible significance: history in the making. It was also theatre: a moment in which history was staged as “event” and the real traces of history were carefully erased. Millions of viewers world-wide were undoubtedly unaware that the blue backdrop before which Powell stood was specifically designed to cover the full-scale tapestry copy of Picasso’s Guernica. This one-act, agitprop drama was a splendid example of politics as aesthetic action: a “performance” of history in the making which required the loss of actual historical memory enshrined in Guernica. Powell’s performance took its cues from the culture wars, which require the ceaseless erasure of history and public memory—on this occasion enacted on a breathtaking global, rather than national, scale.Inside the UN chamber, Powell’s performance was equally staged-crafted. As he brandished vials of ersatz anthrax, the power-point behind him (the theatrical set) showed artists’ impressions of imaginary mobile chemical weapons laboratories. Powell was playing lead role in a kind of populist, hyperreal production. It was Jean Baudrillard’s postmodernism, no less, as the media space in which Powell acted out the drama was not a secondary representation of reality but a reality of its own; the overheads of mobile weapons labs were simulacra, “models of a real without origins or reality”, pictures referring to nothing but themselves (2). In short, Powell’s performance was anchored in a “semiurgic” aesthetic; and it was a dreadful real-life enactment of Walter Benjamin’s maxim that “All efforts to render politics aesthetic culminate in one thing: war” (241).For Benjamin, “Fascism attempts to organize the newly created proletarian masses without affecting the property structure which the masses strive to eliminate.” Fascism gave “these masses not their right, but instead a chance to express themselves.” In turn, this required “the introduction of aesthetics into politics”, the objective of which was “the production of ritual values” (241). Under Adolf Hitler’s Reich, people were able to express themselves but only via the rehearsal of officially produced ritual values: by their participation in the disquisition on what Germany meant and what it meant to be German, by the aesthetic regulation of their passions. As Frederic Spotts’ fine study Hitler and the Power of Aesthetics reveals, this passionate disquisition permeated public and private life, through the artfully constructed total field of national narratives, myths, symbols and iconographies. And the ritualistic reiteration of national values in Nazi Germany hinged on two things: contempt and memory loss.By April 1945, as Berlin fell, Hitler’s contempt for the German people was at its apogee. Hitler ordered a scorched earth operation: the destruction of everything from factories to farms to food stores. The Russians would get nothing, the German people would perish. Albert Speer refused to implement the plan and remembered that “Until then… Germany and Hitler had been synonymous in my mind. But now I saw two entities opposed… A passionate love of one’s country… a leader who seemed to hate his people” (Sereny 472). But Hitler’s contempt for the German people was betrayed in the blusterous pages of Mein Kampf years earlier: “The receptivity of the great masses is very limited, their intelligence is small, but their power of forgetting is enormous” (165). On the back of this belief, Hitler launched what today would be called a culture war, with its Jewish folk devils, loathsome Marxist intellectuals, incitement of popular passions, invented traditions, historical erasures and constant iteration of values.When Theodor Adorno and Max Horkheimer fled Fascism, landing in the United States, their view of capitalist democracy borrowed from Benjamin and anticipated both Baudrillard and Guy Debord. In their well-know essay on “The Culture Industry”, in Dialectic of Enlightenment, they applied Benjamin’s insight on mass self-expression and the maintenance of property relations and ritual values to American popular culture: “All are free to dance and enjoy themselves”, but the freedom to choose how to do so “proves to be the freedom to choose what is always the same”, manufactured by monopoly capital (161–162). Anticipating Baudrillard, they found a society in which “only the copy appears: in the movie theatre, the photograph; on the radio, the recording” (143). And anticipating Debord’s “perfected denial of man” they found a society where work and leisure were structured by the repetition-compulsion principles of capitalism: where people became consumers who appeared “s statistics on research organization charts” (123). “Culture” came to do people’s thinking for them: “Pleasure always means not to think about anything, to forget suffering even where it is shown” (144).In this mass-mediated environment, a culture of repetitions, simulacra, billboards and flickering screens, Adorno and Horkheimer concluded that language lost its historical anchorages: “Innumerable people use words and expressions which they have either ceased to understand or employ only because they trigger off conditioned reflexes” in precisely the same way that the illusory “free” expression of passions in Germany operated, where words were “debased by the Fascist pseudo-folk community” (166).I know that the turf of the culture wars, the US and Australia, are not Fascist states; and I know that “the first one to mention the Nazis loses the argument”. I know, too, that there are obvious shortcomings in Adorno and Horkheimer’s reactions to popular culture and these have been widely criticised. However, I would suggest that there is a great deal of value still in Frankfurt School analyses of what we might call the “authoritarian popular” which can be applied to the conservative prosecution of populist culture wars today. Think, for example, how the concept of a “pseudo folk community” might well describe the earthy, common-sense public constructed and interpellated by right-wing culture warriors: America’s Joe Six-Pack, John Howard’s battlers or Kevin Rudd’s working families.In fact, Adorno and Horkheimer’s observations on language go to the heart of a contemporary culture war strategy. Words lose their history, becoming ciphers and “triggers” in a politicised lexicon. Later, Roland Barthes would write that this is a form of myth-making: “myth is constituted by the loss of the historical quality of things.” Barthes reasoned further that “Bourgeois ideology continuously transforms the products of history into essential types”, generating a “cultural logic” and an ideological re-ordering of the world (142). Types such as “neo-Marxist”, “postmodernist” and “Burkean conservative”.Surely, Benjamin’s assessment that Fascism gives “the people” the occasion to express itself, but only through “values”, describes the right’s pernicious incitement of the mythic “dispossessed mainstream” to reclaim its voice: to shout down the noisy minorities—the gays, greenies, blacks, feminists, multiculturalists and neo-Marxist postmodernists—who’ve apparently been running the show. Even more telling, Benjamin’s insight that the incitement to self-expression is connected to the maintenance of property relations, to economic power, is crucial to understanding the contemptuous conduct of culture wars.3. Jesus Dunked in Urine from Kansas to CronullaAmerican commentator Thomas Frank bases his study What’s the Matter with Kansas? on this very point. Subtitled How Conservatives Won the Heart of America, Frank’s book is a striking analysis of the indexation of Chicago School free-market reform and the mobilisation of “explosive social issues—summoning public outrage over everything from busing to un-Christian art—which it then marries to pro-business policies”; but it is the “economic achievements” of free-market capitalism, “not the forgettable skirmishes of the never-ending culture wars” that are conservatism’s “greatest monuments.” Nevertheless, the culture wars are necessary as Chicago School economic thinking consigns American communities to the rust belt. The promise of “free-market miracles” fails ordinary Americans, Frank reasons, leaving them in “backlash” mode: angry, bewildered and broke. And in this context, culture wars are a convenient form of anger management: “Because some artist decides to shock the hicks by dunking Jesus in urine, the entire planet must remake itself along the lines preferred” by nationalist, populist moralism and free-market fundamentalism (5).When John Howard received the neo-conservative American Enterprise Institute’s Irving Kristol Award, on 6 March 2008, he gave a speech in Washington titled “Sharing Our Common Values”. The nub of the speech was Howard’s revelation that he understood the index of neo-liberal economics and culture wars precisely as Thomas Frank does. Howard told the AEI audience that under his prime ministership Australia had “pursued reform and further modernisation of our economy” and that this inevitably meant “dislocation for communities”. This “reform-dislocation” package needed the palliative of a culture war, with his government preaching the “consistency and reassurance” of “our nation’s traditional values… pride in her history”; his government “became assertive about the intrinsic worth of our national identity. In the process we ended the seemingly endless seminar about that identity which had been in progress for some years.” Howard’s boast that his government ended the “seminar” on national identity insinuates an important point. “Seminar” is a culture-war cipher for intellection, just as “pride” is code for passion; so Howard’s self-proclaimed achievement, in Terry Eagleton’s terms, was to valorise “the blood and the body” over “theoretical analysis”. This speaks stratospheric contempt: ordinary people have their identity fashioned for them; they need not think about it, only feel it deeply and passionately according to “ritual values”. Undoubtedly this paved the way to Cronulla.The rubric of Howard’s speech—“Sharing Our Common Values”—was both a homage to international neo-conservatism and a reminder that culture wars are a trans-national phenomenon. In his address, Howard said that in all his “years in politics” he had not heard a “more evocative political slogan” than Ronald Reagan’s “Morning in America”—the rhetorical catch-cry for moral re-awakening that launched the culture wars. According to Lawrence Grossberg, America’s culture wars were predicated on the perception that the nation was afflicted by “a crisis of our lack of passion, of not caring enough about the values we hold… a crisis of nihilism which, while not restructuring our ideological beliefs, has undermined our ability to organise effective action on their behalf”; and this “New Right” alarmism “operates in the conjuncture of economics and popular culture” and “a popular struggle by which culture can lead politics” in the passionate pursuit of ritual values (31–2). When popular culture leads politics in this way we are in the zone of the image, myth and Adorno and Horkheimer’s “trigger words” that have lost their history. In this context, McKenzie Wark observes that “radical writers influenced by Marx will see the idea of culture as compensation for a fragmented and alienated life as a con. Guy Debord, perhaps the last of the great revolutionary thinkers of Europe, will call it “the spectacle”’ (20). Adorno and Horkheimer might well have called it “the authoritarian popular”. As Jonathan Charteris-Black’s work capably demonstrates, all politicians have their own idiolect: their personally coded language, preferred narratives and myths; their own vision of who “the people” might or should be that is conjured in their words. But the language of the culture wars is different. It is not a personal idiolect. It is a shared vocabulary, a networked vernacular, a pervasive trans-national aesthetic that pivots on the fact that words like “neo-Marxist”, “postmodern” and “Edmund Burke” have no historical or intellectual context or content: they exist as the ciphers of “values”. And the fact that culture warriors continually mouth them is a supreme act of contempt: it robs the public of its memory. And that’s why, as Lucy and Mickler’s War on Democracy so wittily argues, if there are any postmodernists left they’ll be on the right.Benjamin, Adorno, Horkheimer and, later, Debord and Grossberg understood how the political activation of the popular constitutes a hegemonic project. The result is nothing short of persuading “the people” to collaborate in its own oppression. The activation of the popular is perfectly geared to an age where the main stage of political life is the mainstream media; an age in which, Charteris-Black notes, political classes assume the general antipathy of publics to social change and act on the principle that the most effective political messages are sold to “the people” by an appeal “to familiar experiences”—market populism (10). In her substantial study The Persuaders, Sally Young cites an Australian Labor Party survey, conducted by pollster Rod Cameron in the late 1970s, in which the party’s message machine was finely tuned to this populist position. The survey also dripped with contempt for ordinary people: their “Interest in political philosophy… is very low… They are essentially the products (and supporters) of mass market commercialism”. Young observes that this view of “the people” was the foundation of a new order of political advertising and the conduct of politics on the mass-media stage. Cameron’s profile of “ordinary people” went on to assert that they are fatally attracted to “a moderate leader who is strong… but can understand and represent their value system” (47): a prescription for populist discourse which begs the question of whether the values a politician or party represent via the media are ever really those of “the people”. More likely, people are hegemonised into a value system which they take to be theirs. Writing of the media side of the equation, David Salter raises the point that when media “moguls thunder about ‘the public interest’ what they really mean is ‘what we think the public is interested in”, which is quite another matter… Why this self-serving deception is still so sheepishly accepted by the same public it is so often used to violate remains a mystery” (40).Sally Young’s Persuaders retails a story that she sees as “symbolic” of the new world of mass-mediated political life. The story concerns Mark Latham and his “revolutionary” journeys to regional Australia to meet the people. “When a political leader who holds a public meeting is dubbed a ‘revolutionary’”, Young rightly observes, “something has gone seriously wrong”. She notes how Latham’s “use of old-fashioned ‘meet-and-greet’campaigning methods was seen as a breath of fresh air because it was unlike the type of packaged, stage-managed and media-dependent politics that have become the norm in Australia.” Except that it wasn’t. “A media pack of thirty journalists trailed Latham in a bus”, meaning, that he was not meeting the people at all (6–7). He was traducing the people as participants in a media spectacle, as his “meet and greet” was designed to fill the image-banks of print and electronic media. Even meeting the people becomes a media pseudo-event in which the people impersonate the people for the camera’s benefit; a spectacle as artfully deceitful as Colin Powell’s UN performance on Iraq.If the success of this kind of “self-serving deception” is a mystery to David Salter, it would not be so to the Frankfurt School. For them, an understanding of the processes of mass-mediated politics sits somewhere near the core of their analysis of the culture industries in the “democratic” world. I think the Frankfurt school should be restored to a more important role in the project of cultural studies. Apart from an aversion to jazz and other supposedly “elitist” heresies, thinkers like Adorno, Benjamin, Horkheimer and their progeny Debord have a functional claim to provide the theory for us to expose the machinations of the politics of contempt and its aesthetic ruses.ReferencesAdorno, Theodor and Max Horkheimer. "The Culture Industry: Enlightenment as Mass Deception." Dialectic of Enlightenment. London: Verso, 1979. 120–167.Barthes Roland. “Myth Today.” Mythologies. Trans. Annette Lavers. St Albans: Paladin, 1972. 109–58.Baudrillard, Jean. Simulations. New York: Semiotext(e), 1983.Benjamin, Walter. “The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction.” Illuminations. Ed. Hannah Arendt. Trans. Harry Zorn. New York: Schocken Books, 1969. 217–251.Burke, Edmund. Reflections on the Revolution in France. Ed. Conor Cruise O’Brien. Harmondsworth: Penguin, 1969.Charteris-Black, Jonathan. Politicians and Rhetoric: The Persuasive Power of Metaphor. Houndmills: Palgrave Macmillan, 2006.Debord, Guy. The Society of the Spectacle. Trans. Donald Nicholson-Smith. New York: Zone Books, 1994.Eagleton, Terry. The Ideology of the Aesthetic. Oxford: Basil Blackwell, 1990.Frank, Thomas. What’s the Matter with Kansas?: How Conservatives Won the Heart of America. New York: Henry Holt and Company, 2004.Grossberg, Lawrence. “It’s a Sin: Politics, Post-Modernity and the Popular.” It’s a Sin: Essays on Postmodern Politics & Culture. Eds. Tony Fry, Ann Curthoys and Paul Patton. Sydney: Power Publications, 1988. 6–71.Hewett, Jennifer. “The Opportunist.” The Weekend Australian Magazine. 25–26 October 2008. 16–22.Hitler, Adolf. Mein Kampf. Trans. Ralph Manheim. London: Pimlico, 1993.Howard, John. “Sharing Our Common Values.” Washington: Irving Kristol Lecture, American Enterprise Institute. 5 March 2008. ‹http://www.theaustralian.news.com.au/story/0,25197,233328945-5014047,00html›.Lucy, Niall and Steve Mickler. The War on Democracy: Conservative Opinion in the Australian Press. Crawley: University of Western Australia Press, 2006.Pearson, Christopher. “Pray for Sense to Prevail.” The Weekend Australian. 25–26 October 2008. 30.Salter, David. The Media We Deserve: Underachievement in the Fourth Estate. Melbourne: Melbourne UP, 2007. Sereny, Gitta. Albert Speer: His Battle with Truth. London: Picador, 1996.Spotts, Frederic. Hitler and the Power of Aesthetics. London: Pimlico, 2003.Wark, McKenzie. The Virtual Republic: Australia’s Culture Wars of the 1990s. St Leonards: Allen & Unwin, 1997.Young, Sally. The Persuaders: Inside the Hidden Machine of Political Advertising. Melbourne: Pluto Press, 2004.

It is interesting to investigate the characteristics of rainfall in north and south areas of Papua.&nbsp; The main study included rainfall patterns, climate type and the period.&nbsp;&nbsp; The results showed that the northern region of Papua (Dok II Jayapura, Wasior, Manokwari) has unimodial rainfall patterns (one peak) or monsoonal with mean annual rainfall is 2566 mm. Through the method of Schmidt and Ferguson found that this region is very wet climate. The result of wavelet analysis shows the dominance of the 1 annual period that refers to the incident of monsoon. Meanwhile, southern Papua (Agats, Bade and Merauke) generally has monsoon type, unless Agats has equatorial type.&nbsp; The nature of climate of each: very wet, slightly wet and somewhat dry. In regions with monsoonal rainfall type has a mean annual rainfall (1587 mm) is relatively small compared to the northern region of Papua. Results of analysis showed that during the Asian monsoon, water vapor is taken after crossing the Pacific Ocean quite a lot and most devoted in the northern region of Papua. The existence of mountain ranges (topography) as the dividing northern and southern region of Papua suspected to be a barrier to the movement of air masses to the south during this monsoon occurs. Instead the Australian monsoon (dry nature) which is the phase after the monsoon Asia has implications to the contrary.

This article makes a case for the everyday while on tour and argues that the ability to continue with everyday routines and social relationships, while at the same time moving through and staying in liminal or atypical zones of tourist locales, is a key part of some kinds of tourist experience. Based on ethnographic field research with grey nomads (retirees who take extended tours of Australia in caravans and motorhomes) everyday life while on tour is examined, specifically the overlap and intersection between the out-of-the-ordinary “tourist zone” and the ordinariness of the “everyday zone.” The “everyday zone” and “tourist zone” can be readily differentiated by their obvious geospatial boundaries (being at home or being away on holiday). More specifically, the “everyday zone” refers to the routines of quotidian life, or the mundane practices which make up our daily, at-home lives. These practices are closely connected with the domestic realm and include consumption practices (clothing, cooking, mass media) and everyday social interactions. The “tourist zone” is similarly concerned with consumption. In this zone, however, tourists are seen to consume places; the culture, landscape, and peoples of exotic or out-of-the-ordinary tourist locales. Needless to say this consumption of place also includes the consumption of services and objects available in the tourist destinations (Urry, “The Consuming of Place” 220). The notion of tourists being away from home has often been contrasted with constructions of home—with the dull routines of everyday life—by social scientists and tourist marketers alike in an effort to illuminate the difference between being “away” and being at “home.” Scott McCabe and Elizabeth Stokoe suggest that peoples’ notion of “home” takes into account the meaning of being away (602). That is to say that when people are away from home, as tourists for example, they often compare and contrast this with the fundamental aspects of living at home. Others, however, argue that with the widespread use of mobile communication technologies, the distinction between the notion of being at “home” and being “away” becomes less clear (White and White 91). In this sense, the notion of home or the everyday is viewed with an eye towards social relationships, rather than any specific geographical location (Jamal and Hill 77–107; Massey 59–69; Urry, “The Tourist Gaze” 2–14; White and White 88–104). It can be argued, therefore, that tourism entails a fusion of the routines and relationships associated with the everyday, as well as the liminal or atypical world of difference. This article is based on semi-structured interviews with 40 grey nomads, as well as four months of ethnographic fieldwork carried out in rural and remote Australia—in Western Australia, the Northern Territory, and South Australia. Grey nomads have been part of Australian senior culture for at least four decades. They are a relatively heterogeneous group of tourists encompassing a range of socio-economic backgrounds, preferred activities, health status, and favoured destinations (Davies et al. 40–1; Economic Development Committee 4; Holloway 117–47), as well age cohorts—including the frugal generation (1910–1932), the silent generation (1931–1946), and the baby boomer generation (1946–65). Grey nomads usually tour as spousal couples (Tourism Research Australia 26; Onyx and Leonard 387). Some of these couples live solely on government pensions while others are obviously well-resourced—touring in luxury motorhomes costing well over half a million dollars. Some prefer to bush camp in national parks and other isolated locations, and some choose to stay long term in caravan parks socialising with other grey nomads and the local community. All grey nomads, nonetheless, maintain a particularly close link with the everyday while touring. Mobile communication technologies anchor grey nomads (and other tourists) to the everyday—allowing for ready contact with existing family and friends while on tour. Grey nomads’ mobile dwellings, their caravans and motorhomes, integrate familiar domestic spaces with a touring life. The interior and exterior spaces of these mobile dwellings allow for easy enactment of everyday, domestic routines and the privatised world of adult spousal relationships. This peripatetic form of dwelling, where the dwelling itself accommodates both travel and an everyday domestic life further blurs the distinctions between the “everyday zone” and the “tourist zone”. In this sense grey nomads carry out a lifestyle that is both anchored and mobile; anchored in the everyday domestic life while at the same time being nomadic or geographically unstable. This blurring of the boundaries between the “everyday zone” and “tourist zone” is attractive to senior tourists, offering them a relatively safe and comfortable incursion into tourist locales, where established routines and patterns of everyday life can be maintained. Other homes-away-from-homes such as serviced apartments, holiday homes and house swaps also offer greater connection to the everyday, but are geographically anchored to specific tourism spaces. The caravan or motorhome allows this at-home connection for the peripatetic tourist offsets the relative rigours of outback touring in remote and rural Australia. Everyday Social Relationships in the “Tourist Zone” When tourists go away from home, they are usually thought of as being away from both place (home) and relationships (family and friends). Nowadays, however, being away from home does not necessarily mean being away from family and friends. This is because the ease and speed of today’s telecommunication technologies allows for instantaneous contact with family and friends back home—or the virtual co-presence of family and friends while being away on tour. In the past, those friends and relations who were geographically isolated from each other still enjoyed social contact via letters and telegrams. Such contacts, however, occurred less frequently and message delivery took time. Long distance telephone calls were also costly and therefore used sparingly. These days, telecommunication technologies such as mobile phones and the Internet, as well as the lower cost of landline phone calls, mean that everyday social contact does not need to be put on hold. Keeping in contact is now a comparatively fast, inexpensive, and effortless activity and socialising with distant friends and relatives is now a routine activity (Larsen 24). All grey nomads travel with a mobile phone device, either a digital mobile, Next G or satellite phone (Obst, Brayley and King 8). These phones are used to routinely keep in contact with family and friends, bringing with them everyday familial relationships while on tour. “We ring the girls. We’ve got two daughters. We ring them once a week, although if something happens Debbie [daughter] will ring us” (Teresa). Grey nomads also take advantage of special deals or free minutes when they scheduled weekly calls to family or friends. “I mainly [use] mobile, then I ring, because I’ve got that hour, free hour” (Helen). E-mail is also a favoured way of keeping in contact with family and friends for some grey nomads. This is because the asynchronicity of e-mail interaction is very convenient as they can choose the times when they pick up and send messages. “Oh, thank goodness for the e-mail” (Pat). Maintaining social contact with family and friends at a distance is not necessarily as straightforward as when grey nomads and other tourists are at home. According to discussants in this study and the Regional Telecommunications Independent Review Committee, mobile phone coverage within Australia is still rather patchy when outside major metropolitan areas. Consequently, the everyday task of kin keeping via the phone can be somewhat intermittent, especially for those grey nomads who spend a great deal of time outside major towns in rural and remote Australia. “You can never get much [reception] but [...] they can just ring the mobile and just leave a message and we will get that message [later]” (Rena). Similarly, using the Internet to e-mail family and friends and catch up with online banking can only be carried out when passing through larger towns. “I do it [using the Internet] like every major town we went through. I’d stop and do a set of e-mails and I used to do my banking” (Maureen). The intermittent phone coverage in remote and rural Australia was not always viewed as an inconvenience by discussants in this study. This is because continuing engagement with family and friends while on tour may leave little respite from the ongoing obligations or any difficulties associated with family and friends back home, and encroach on the leisure and relaxation associated with grey nomad touring. “I don’t want the phone to ring […] That’s one thing I can do without, the phone ringing, especially at 4:00 in the morning” (Rena). In this way, too much co-presence, in the form of mobile phone calls from family and friends, can be just as much a nuisance when away from home as when at home—and impinge on the feeling of “being away from it all.” Naomi White and Peter White also suggest that “being simultaneously home and away is not always experienced in a positive light” (98) and at times, continued contact (via the phone) with friends and family while touring is not satisfying or enjoyable because these calls reiterate the “dynamics evident in those that are [usually] geographically proximate” (100). Thus, while mobile communication technologies are convenient tools for grey nomads and other tourists which blur the boundaries between the “everyday zone” and “tourist zones” in useful and pleasurable ways, their overuse may also encroach on tourists’ away time, thus interfering with their sense of solitude and quiescence when touring in remote or rural Australia. The “Everyday Zone” of the Caravan or Motorhome Being a tourist involves “everyday practices, ordinary places and significant others, such as family members and friends, but co-residing and at-a-distance” (Larsen 26). While tourism involves some sense of liminality, in reality, it is interspersed with the actuality of the everyday routines and sociabilities enacted while touring. Tim Edensor notes that; Rather than transcending the mundane, most forms of tourism are fashioned by culturally coded escape attempts. Moreover, although suffused with notions of escape from normativity, tourists carry quotidian habits and responses with them: they are part of the baggage. (61) Grey nomads go further than this by bringing on tour with them a domestic space in which everyday routines and sociabilities are sustained. Travelling in this manner “makes possible, and probably encourages, greater continuity with everyday routine than many other kinds of holiday making” (Southerton et al. 6). To be able to sleep in your own bed with your own pillow and linen, or perhaps travel with your dogs, makes caravanning and motorhoming an attractive touring option for many people. Thus, the use of caravans or motorhomes when travelling brings with it a great deal of mobile domesticity while on tour. The caravan or motorhome is furnished with most of the essentially-domestic objects and technologies to enable grey nomads to sleep, eat, relax, and be entertained in a manner similar to that which they enjoy in the family home, albeit within smaller dimensions. Lorna: We have shower, toilet. We had microwave, stereo. We have air conditioning and heating.Eric: Yeah, reverse cycle air conditioning.Lorna: Reverse cycle. What else do we have?Eric: Hot water service. Gas or 240 volt. 12 volt converter in that, which is real good, it runs your lights, runs everything like that. You just hook it into the main power and it converts it to 12 volt. Roll out awning plus the full annex.Lorna: Full annex. What else do we have? There’s a good size stove in it. The size of caravans and motorhomes means that many domestic tasks often take less time or are simplified. Cleaning the van takes a lot less time and cooking often becomes simplified, due to lack of bench and storage space. Women in particular like this aspect of grey nomad travel. “It is great. Absolutely. You don’t have toilets to clean, you don’t have bathrooms to clean. Cooking your meals are easier because everything is all […] Yeah. It’s more casual” (Sonya). This touring lifestyle also introduces new domestic routines, such as emptying chemical toilets, filling water tanks, towing and parking the van and refilling gas tanks, for example. Nonetheless grey nomads, spend significantly less time on these domestic tasks when they are touring. In this sense, the caravan or motorhome brings with it the comforts and familiarity of home, while at the same time minimising the routine chores involved in domestic life. With the core accoutrements of everyday life available, everyday activities such as doing the dishes, watching television, preparing and eating a meal—as well as individual hobbies and pastimes—weave themselves into a daily life that is simultaneously home and away. This daily life, at home in the caravan or motorhome, brings with it possibilities of a domestic routinised lifestyle—one that provides welcome comfort and familiarity when travelling and a retreat from the demands of sightseeing. On the farm I used to make jam and cakes, so I do it again [in the caravan]. I make jam, I made marmalade a couple of weeks ago. We’d often stay home [in the caravan], I’d just clean or do a bit of painting. (Jenny) Touring in a caravan or motorhome allows for some sense of predictability: that you own and control the private spaces of your own mobile dwelling, and can readily carry out everyday domestic routines and sociabilities. “We go for a long walk. We come back and we see friends and we stop and have a coffee with them, and then you come home in the caravan at 2.30 and you can still have lunch” (Yvonne). Touring in a caravan or motorhome also frees grey nomads from dependence on prearranged tourist experiences such as organised tours or hotel meal times where much of the tourist experience can be regimented. We always went in hotels and you always had to dress up, and you had to eat before a certain time, and you had your breakfast before a certain time. And after 2.30 you can’t have lunch anymore and sometimes we have lunch at 2 o’clock. I like the caravan park [better]. (Donald) Despite the caravan or motorhome having close links with everyday life and the domestic realm, its ready mobility offers a greater sense of autonomy while touring: that you are unfettered, not bound to any specific place or timetable, and can move on at whim. Grey nomads often cross paths with other tourists dependent on guided bus tours. “They go in [to Kakadu] on a bus trip. All they do is go in on the main road, they’re in there for the day and there’re back. That’s absolutely ridiculous” (Vance). This autonomy, or freedom to structure their own tourist experiences, allows grey nomads the opportunity to travel at a leisurely pace. Even those grey nomads who travel to the same northern destination every year take their time and enjoy other tourist locations along the way. We take our time. This time, last time, we did three weeks before we got in [to] Broome. We spent a lot [of time] in Karratha but also in Geraldton. And when we came back, in Kalbarri, [we had] a week in Kalbarri. But it’s nice going up, you know. You go all through the coast, along the coast. (John) Caravan or motorhome use, therefore, provides for a routinised everyday life while at the same time allowing a level of autonomy not evident in other forms of tourism—which rely more heavily on pre-booking accommodation and transport options. These contradictory aspects of grey nomad travel, an everyday life of living in a caravan or motorhome coupled with freedom to move on in an independent manner, melds the “everyday zone” and the “tourist zone” in a manner appealing to many grey nomads. Conclusion Theories of tourism tend to pay little attention to the aspects of tourism that involve recurrent activities and an ongoing connectedness with everyday life. Tourism is often defined: by contrasting it to home geographies and everydayness: tourism is what they are not. [...] The main focus in such research is on the extraordinary, on places elsewhere. Tourism is an escape from home, a quest for more desirable and fulfilling places. (Larsen 21) Nonetheless, tourism involves everyday routines, everyday spaces and an everyday social life. Grey nomads find that mobile phones and the Internet make possible the virtual co-presence of family and friends allowing everyday relationships to continue while touring. Nonetheless, the pleasure of ongoing contact with distant family and friends while touring may at times encroach on the quietude or solitude grey nomads experienced when touring remote and rural Australia. In addition to this, grey nomads’ caravans and motorhomes are equipped with the many comforts and domestic technologies of home, making for the continuance of everyday domiciliary life while on tour, further obfuscating the boundaries between the “tourist zone” and the “everyday zone.” In this sense grey nomads lead a lifestyle that is both anchored and mobile. This anchoring involves dwelling in everyday spaces, carrying out everyday domestic and social routines, as well as maintaining contact with friends and family via mobile communication technologies. This anchoring allows for some sense of predictability: that you own and control the private spaces of your own mobile dwelling, and can readily carry out everyday domestic routines and sociabilities. Conversely, the ready mobility of the caravan or motorhome offers a sense of autonomy: that you are unfettered, not bound to any specific place and can move on at whim. This peripatetic form of dwelling, where the dwelling itself is the catalyst for both travel and an everyday domestic life, is an under researched area. Mobile dwellings such as caravans, motorhomes, and yachts, constitute dwellings that are anchored in the everyday yet unfixed to any one locale. References Davies, Amanda, Matthew Tonts, and Julie Cammell. Coastal Camping in the Rangelands: Emerging Opportunities for Natural Resource Management. Perth: Rangelands WA, 2009. 24 Sep. 2011 ‹http://www.rangelandswa.com.au/pages/178/publications›. Economic Development Committee. Inquiry into Developing Queensland’s Rural and Regional Communities through Grey Nomad Tourism. Brisbane: Queensland Parliament, 2011. 23 Sep. 2011 ‹http://www.parliament.qld.gov.au/Documents/TableOffice/TabledPapers/2011/5311T3954.pdf›. Edensor, Tim. “Performing Tourism, Staging Tourism: (Re)Producing Tourist Space and Practice.” Tourist Studies 1 (2001): 59–81. Holloway, Donell. Grey Nomads: Retirement, Leisure and Travel in the Australian Context. PhD diss. Edith Cowan University: Perth, 2010. Jamal, Tanzin, and Steve Hill. “The Home and the World: (Post) Touristic Spaces of (in) Authenticity.” The Tourist as a Metaphor of The Social World. Ed. Graham Dann. Wallingford: CAB International, 2002. 77–107. Larsen, Jonas. “De-Exoticizing Tourist Travel: Everyday Life and Sociality on the Move.” Leisure Studies 27 (2008): 21–34. Massey, Doreen. “Power-Geometry and a Progressive Sense of Place.” Mapping the Futures: Local Cultures, Global Change. Eds. Jon Bird et al. London: Routeledge, 1993. 59–69. McCabe, Scott, and Elizabeth Stokoe. “Place and Identity in Tourists’ Accounts.” Annals of Tourism Research 31 (2004): 601–22. Obst, Patricia L., Nadine Brayley, and Mark J. King. “Grey Nomads: Road Safety Impacts and Risk Management.” 2008 Australasian Road Safety Research, Policing and Education Conference. Adelaide: Engineers Australia, 2008. Onyx, Jenny, and Rosemary Leonard. “The Grey Nomad Phenomenon: Changing the Script of Aging.” The International Journal of Aging and Human Development 64 (2007): 381–98. Regional Telecommunications Independent Review Committee. Regional Telecommunications Review Report: Framework for the Future. Canberra: RTIRC, 2008. Southerton, Dale, Elizabeth Shove, Alan Warde, and Rosemary Dean. “Home from Home? A Research Note on Recreational Caravanning.” Department of Sociology, Lancaster University. 1998. 10 Jan. 2009 ‹http://www.lancs.ac.uk/fass/sociology/papers/southerton-et-al-home-from-home.pdf›. Tourism Research Australia. Understanding the Caravan industry in WA: Grey Nomads—Fast Facts. Perth, Australia: Tourism WA (n.d.). Urry, John. “The Consuming of Place.” Discourse, Communication, and Tourism. Eds. Adam Jaworski and Annette Pritchard. Clevedon: Channel View Publications, 2005. 19–27. ———. The Tourist Gaze. London: Sage, 2002. White, Naomi, and Peter White. “Home and Away: Tourists in a Connected World.” Annals of Tourism Research 34 (2006): 88–104.

If Continental social theory emerges from a climate of intensely cold winters and short mild summers, how does Australia (or any nation defined by its large masses of aridity) function as an environment in which to produce critical theory and new knowledge? Climate and weather are intrinsic to ambience, but what impact might they have on the conditions of producing academic work? How is ambience relevant to thinking and writing and research? Is there an ambient epistemology? This paper argues that the ambient is an unacknowledged factor in the production of critical thinking, and draws on examples of academics locating their writing conditions as part of their thinking. This means paying attention to the embodied work of thinking, and so I locate myself in order to explore what it might mean to acknowledge the conditions of intellectual work. Consequently I dwell on the impact of heat and light as qualities specific to where I work, but (following Bolt) I also argue that they are terms that are historically associated with new knowledge. Language, then, is already a factor in shaping the way we can think through such conditions, and the narratives available to write about them. Working these conditions into critical narratives may involve mobilising fictional tropes, and may not always be ambient, but they are potent in the academic imaginary and impact the ways in which we can think through location. Present Tense As I sit in Perth right now in a balmy 27 degrees Celsius with the local afternoon sea-breeze (fondly known as the Fremantle Doctor) clearing the stuffiness and humidity of the day, environmental conditions are near perfect for the end of summer. I barely notice them. Not long ago though, it was over 40 degrees for three days in a row. These were the three days I had set aside to complete an academic paper, the last days available before the university opened and normal work would resume. I’d arranged to have the place to myself, but I hadn’t arranged for cooling technologies. As I immersed myself in photocopies and textbooks the intellectual challenges and excitement were my preoccupation. It was hot, but I was almost unreceptive to recognising the discomforts of the weather until sweat began to drip onto pages and keyboards. A break in the afternoon for a swim at the local beach was an opportunity to clarify and see the bigger picture, and as the temperature began to slide into the evening cool it was easier to stay up late working and then sleep in late. I began to work around the weather. What impact does this have on thinking and writing? I remember it as a haze. The paper though, still seems clear and reasoned. My regimen might be read as working despite the weather, but I wonder if the intensity of the heat extends thinking in different directions—to go places where I wouldn’t have imagined in an ambiently cooled office (if I had one). The conditions of the production of knowledge are often assumed to be static, stable and uninteresting. Even if your work is located in exciting Other places, the ‘writing up’ is expected to happen ‘back home’, after the extra-ordinary places of fieldwork. It can be written in the present tense, for a more immediate reading experience, but the writing cannot always happen at the same time as the events being described, so readers accept the use of present tense as a figment of grammar that cannot accommodate the act of writing. When a writer becomes aware of their surroundings and articulates those conditions into their narrative, the reader is lifted out of the narrative into a metaframe; out of the body of writing and into the extra-diegetic. In her essay “Me and My Shadow” (1987), Jane Tompkins writes as if ‘we’ the reader are in the present with her as she makes connections between books, experiences, memories, feelings, and she also provides us with a writing scene in which to imagine her in the continuous present: It is a beautiful day here in North Carolina. The first day that is both cool and sunny all summer. After a terrible summer, first drought, then heat-wave, then torrential rain, trees down, flooding. Now, finally, beautiful weather. A tree outside my window just brushed by red, with one fully red leaf. (This is what I want you to see. A person sitting in stockinged feet looking out of her window – a floor to ceiling rectangle filled with green, with one red leaf. The season poised, sunny and chill, ready to rush down the incline into autumn. But perfect, and still. Not going yet.) (128)This is a strategy, part of the aesthetics and politics of Tompkins’s paper which argues for the way the personal functions in intellectual thinking and writing even when we don’t recognise or acknowledge it. A little earlier she characterises herself as vulnerable because of the personal/professional nexus: I don’t know how to enter the debate [over epistemology] without leaving everything else behind – the birds outside my window, my grief over Janice, just myself as a person sitting here in stockinged feet, a little bit chilly because the windows are open, and thinking about going to the bathroom. But not going yet. (126)The deferral of autumn and going to the bathroom is linked through the final phrase, “not going yet”. This is a kind of refrain that draws attention to the aesthetic architecture of locating the self, and yet the reference to an impending toilet trip raised many eyebrows. Nancy Millar comments that “these passages invoke that moment in writing when everything comes together in a fraction of poise; that fragile moment the writing in turn attempts to capture; and that going to the bathroom precisely, will end” (6). It spoils the moment. The aesthetic green scene with one red leaf is ruptured by the impending toilet scene. Or perhaps it is the intimacy of bodily function that disrupts the ambient. And yet the moment is fictional anyway. There must surely always be some fiction involved when writing about the scene of writing, as writing usually takes more than one take. Gina Mercer takes advantage of this fictional function in a review of a collection of women’s poetry. Noting the striking discursive differences between the editor’s introduction and the poetry collected in the volume, she suggestively accounts for this by imagining the conditions under which the editor might have been working: I suddenly begin to imagine that she wrote the introduction sitting at her desk in twin-set and pearls, her feet constricted by court shoes – but that the selection took place at home with her lying on a large beautifully-linened bed bestrewn by a cat and the poems… (4)These imaginary conditions, Mercer implies, impact on the ways we do our intellectual work, or perhaps different kinds of work require different conditions. Mercer not only imagines the editor at work, but also suggests her own preferred workspace when she mentions that “the other issue I’ve been pondering as I lay on my bed in a sarong (yes it’s hot here already) reading this anthology, has been the question of who reads love poetry these days?” (4). Placing herself as reader (of an anthology of love poetry) on the bed in a sarong in a hot climate partially accounts for the production of the thinking around this review, but probably doesn’t include the writing process. Mercer’s review is written in epistolary form, signaling an engagement with ‘the personal’, and yet that awareness of form and setting performs a doubling function in which scenes are set and imagination is engaged and yet their veracity doesn’t seem important, and may even be part of the fiction of form. It’s the idea of working leisurely that gains traction in this review. Despite the capacity for fiction, I want to believe that Jane Tompkins was writing in her study in North Carolina next to a full-length window looking out onto a tree. I’m willing to suspend my disbelief and imagine her writing in this place and time. Scenes of Writing Physical conditions are often part of mythologising a writer. Sylvia Plath wrote the extraordinary collection of poems that became Ariel during the 1962/63 London winter, reputed to have been the coldest for over a hundred years (Gifford 15). The cold weather is given a significant narrative role in the intensity of her writing and her emotional desperation during that period. Sigmund Freud’s writing desk was populated with figurines from his collection of antiquities looking down on his writing, a scene carefully replicated in the Freud Museum in London and reproduced in postcards as a potent staging of association between mythology, writing and psychoanalysis (see Burke 2006). Writer’s retreats at the former residences of writers (like Varuna at the former home of Eleanor Dark in the Blue Mountains, and the Katherine Susannah Pritchard Centre in the hills outside of Perth) memorialise the material conditions in which writers wrote. So too do pilgrimages to the homes of famous writers and the tourism they produce in which we may gaze in wonder at the ordinary places of such extraordinary writing. The ambience of location is one facet of the conditions of writing. When I was a doctoral student reading Continental feminist philosophy, I used anything at hand to transport myself into their world. I wrote my dissertation mostly in Townsville in tropical Queensland (and partly in Cairns, even more tropical), where winter is blue skies and mid-twenties in temperature but summers are subject to frequent build-ups in pressure systems, high humidity, no breeze and some cyclones. There was no doubt that studying habits were affected by the weather for a student, if not for all the academics who live there. Workplaces were icily air-conditioned (is this ambient?) but outside was redolent with steamy tropical evenings, hot humid days, torrential downpours. When the weather breaks there is release in blood pressure accompanying barometer pressure. I was reading contemporary Australian literature alongside French feminist theories of subjectivity and their relation through écriture féminine. The European philosophical and psychoanalytic tradition and its exquisitely radical anti-logical writing of Irigaray, Cixous and Kristeva seemed alien to my tropical environs but perversely seductive. In order to get ‘inside’ the theoretical arguments, my strategy was to interpolate myself into their imagined world of writing, to emulate their imagined conditions. Whenever my friend went on a trip, I caretook her 1940s unit that sat on a bluff and looked out over the Coral Sea, all whitewashed and thick stone, and transformed it into a French salon for my intellectual productivity. I played Edith Piaf and Grace Jones, went to the grocer at the bottom of the hill every day for fresh food and the French patisserie for baguettes and croissants. I’d have coffee brewing frequently, and ate copious amounts of camembert and chocolate. The Townsville flat was a Parisian salon with French philosophers conversing in my head and between the piles of book lying on the table. These binges of writing were extraordinarily productive. It may have been because of the imagined Francophile habitus (as Bourdieu understands it); or it may have been because I prepared for the anticipated period of time writing in a privileged space. There was something about adopting the fictional romance of Parisian culture though that appealed to the juxtaposition of doing French theory in Townsville. It intensified the difference but interpolated me into an intellectual imaginary. Derrida’s essay, “Freud and the Scene of Writing”, promises to shed light on Freud’s conditions of writing, and yet it is concerned moreover with the metaphoric or rather intellectual ‘scene’ of Freudian ideas that form the groundwork of Derrida’s own corpus. Scenic, or staged, like Tompkins’s framed window of leaves, it looks upon the past as a ‘moment’ of intellectual ferment in language. Peggy Kamuf suggests that the translation of this piece of Derrida’s writing works to cover over the corporeal banishment from the scene of writing, in a move that privileges the written trace. In commenting, Kamuf translates Derrida herself: ‘to put outside and below [metre dehors et en bas] the body of the written trace [le corps de la trace écrite].’ Notice also the latter phrase, which says not the trace of the body but the body of the trace. The trace, what Derrida but before him also Freud has called trace or Spur, is or has a body. (23)This body, however, is excised, removed from the philosophical and psychoanalytic imaginary Kamuf argues. Australian philosopher Elizabeth Grosz contends that the body is “understood in terms that attempt to minimize or ignore altogether its formative role in the production of philosophical values – truth, knowledge, justice” (Volatile 4): Philosophy has always considered itself a discipline concerned primarily or exclusively with ideas, concepts, reason, judgment – that is, with terms clearly framed by the concept of mind, terms which marginalize or exclude considerations of the body. As soon as knowledge is seen as purely conceptual, its relation to bodies, the corporeality of both knowers and texts, and the ways these materialities interact, must become obscure. (Volatile 4)In the production of knowledge then, the corporeal knowing writing body can be expected to interact with place, with the ambience or otherwise in which we work. “Writing is a physical effort,” notes Cixous, and “this is not said often enough” (40). The Tense Present Conditions have changed here in Perth since the last draft. A late summer high pressure system is sitting in the Great Australian Bite pushing hot air across the desert and an equally insistent ridge of low pressure sits off the Indian Ocean, so the two systems are working against each other, keeping the weather hot, still, tense, taut against the competing forces. It has been nudging forty degrees for a week. The air conditioning at work has overloaded and has been set to priority cooling; offices are the lowest priority. A fan blasts its way across to me, thrumming as it waves its head from one side to the other as if tut-tutting. I’m not consumed with intellectual curiosity the way I was in the previous heatwave; I’m feeling tired, and wondering if I should just give up on this paper. It will wait for another time and journal. There’s a tension with chronology here, with what’s happening in the present, but then Rachel Blau DuPlessis argues that the act of placing ideas into language inevitably produces that tension: Chronology is time depicted as travelling (more or less) in a (more or less) forward direction. Yet one can hardly write a single sentence straight; it all rebounds. Even its most innocent first words – A, The, I, She, It – teem with heteroglossias. (16)“Sentences structure” DuPlessis points out, and grammar necessitates development, chronological linearity, which affects the possibilities for narrative. “Cause and effect affect” DuPlessis notes (16), as do Cixous and Irigaray before her. Nevertheless we must press on. And so I leave work and go for a swim, bring my core body temperature down, and order a pot of tea from the beach café while I read Barbara Bolt in the bright afternoon light. Bolt is a landscape painter who has spent some time in Kalgoorlie, a mining town 800km east of Perth, and notes the ways light is used as a metaphor for visual illumination, for enlightening, and yet in Kalgoorlie light is a glare which, far from illuminating, blinds. In Kalgoorlie the light is dangerous to the body, causing cancers and cataracts but also making it difficult to see because of its sheer intensity. Bolt makes an argument for the Australian light rupturing European thinking about light: Visual practice may be inconceivable without a consideration of light, but, I will argue, it is equally ‘inconceivable’ to practice under European notions of light in the ‘glare’ of the Australian sun. Too much light on matter sheds no light on the matter. (204)Bolt frequently equates the European notions of visual art practice that, she claims, Australians still operate under, with concomitant concepts of European philosophy, aesthetics and, I want to add, epistemology. She is particularly adept at noting the material impact of Australian conditions on the body, arguing that, the ‘glare’ takes apart the Enlightenment triangulation of light, knowledge, and form. In fact, light becomes implicated bodily, in the facts of the matter. My pterygiums and sun-beaten skin, my mother and father’s melanomas, and the incidence of glaucoma implicate the sun in a very different set of processes. From my optic, light can no longer be postulated as the catalyst that joins objects while itself remaining unbent and unimplicated … (206).If new understandings of light are generated in Australian conditions of working, surely heat is capable of refiguring dominant European notions as well. Heat is commonly associated with emotions and erotics, even through ideas: heated debate, hot topics and burning issues imply the very latest and most provocative discussions, sizzling and mercurial. Heat has a material affect on corporeality also: dehydrating, disorienting, dizzying and burning. Fuzzy logic and bent horizons may emerge. Studies show that students learn best in ambient temperatures (Pilman; Graetz), but I want to argue that thought and writing can bend in other dimensions with heat. Tensions build in blood pressure alongside isometric bars. Emotional and intellectual intensities merge. Embodiment meets epistemology. This is not a new idea; feminist philosophers like Donna Haraway have been emphasizing the importance of situated knowledge and partial perspective for decades as a methodology that challenges universalism and creates a more ethical form of objectivity. In 1987 Haraway was arguing for politics and epistemologies of location, positioning, and situating, where partiality and not universality is the condition of being heard to make rational knowledge claims. These are claims on people’s lives. I am arguing for the view from a body, always a complex contradictory structuring and structured body versus the view from above, from nowhere, from simplicity. (Haraway 588)Working in intellectual conditions when the specificities of ambience is ignored, is also, I suggest, to work in a privileged space, in which there are no distractions like the weather. It is also to work ‘from nowhere, from simplicity’ in Haraway’s words. It is to write from within the pure imaginary space of the intellect. But to write in, and from, weather conditions no matter what they might be is to acknowledge the affect of being-in-the-world, to recognise an ontological debt that is embodied and through which we think. I want to make a claim for the radical conditions under which writing can occur outside of the ambient, as I sit here sweating over theory again. Drawing attention to the corporeal conditions of the scene of writing is a way of situating knowledge and partial perspective: if I were in Hobart where snow still lies on Mount Wellington I may well have a different perspective, but the metaphors of ice and cold also need transforming into productive and generative conditions of particularised knowledge. To acknowledge the location of knowledge production suggests more of the forces at work in particular thinking, as a bibliography indicates the shelf of books that have inflected the written product. This becomes a relation of immanence rather than transcendence between the subject and thought, whereby thinking can be understood as an act, an activity, or even activism of an agent. This is proposed by Elizabeth Grosz in her later work where she yokes together the “jagged edges” (Time 165) of Deleuze and Irigaray’s work in order to reconsider the “future of thought”. She calls for a revision of meaning, as Bolt does, but this time in regard to thought itself—and the task of philosophy—asking whether it is possible to develop an understanding of thought that refuses to see thought as passivity, reflection, contemplation, or representation, and instead stresses its activity, how and what it performs […] can we deromanticize the construction of knowledges and discourses to see them as labor, production, doing? (Time 158)If writing is to be understood as a form of activism it seems fitting to conclude here with one final image: of Gloria Anzaldua’s computer, at which she invites us to imagine her writing her book Borderlands/La Frontera: The New Mestiza (1987), a radical Chicana vision for postcolonial theory. Like Grosz, Anzaldua is intent on undoing the mind/body split and the language through which the labour of thinking can be articulated. This is where she writes her manifesto: I sit here before my computer, Amiguita, my altar on top of the monitor with the Virgen de Coatalopeuh candle and copal incense burning. My companion, a wooden serpent staff with feathers, is to my right while I ponder the ways metaphor and symbol concretize the spirit and etherealize the body. (75) References Anzaldua, Gloria. Borderlands/La Frontera: The New Mestiza. San Francisco: Aunt Lute Books, 1987. Bolt, Barbara. “Shedding Light for the Matter.” Hypatia 15.2 (2000): 202-216. Bourdieu, Pierre. The Logic of Practice. Cambridge: Polity, 1990. [1980 Les Edition de Minuit] Burke, Janine. The Gods of Freud: Sigmund Freud’s Art Collection. Milsons Point: Knopf, 2006. Cixous, Hélène, and Mireille Calle-Gruber. Rootprints: Memory and Life Writing. London: Routledge, 1997. [1994 Photos de Racine]. Derrida, Jacques, and Jeffrey Mehlman. "Freud and the Scene of Writing." Yale French Studies 48 (1972): 74-117. DuPlessis, Rachel Blau. Blue Studios: Poetry and Its Cultural Work. Tuscaloosa: Alabama UP, 2006. Gifford, Terry. Ted Hughes. Abingdon: Routledge, 2009. Graetz, Ken A. “The Psychology of Learning Environments.” Educause Review 41.6 (2006): 60-75. Grosz, Elizabeth. Volatile Bodies: Towards a Corporeal Feminism. St Leonards: Allen & Unwin, 1994. Grosz, Elizabeth. Time Travels: Feminism, Nature, Power. St Leonards: Allen & Unwin, 2005. Haraway, Donna. “Situated Knowledges: The Science Question in Feminism and the Privilege of Partial Perspective.” Feminist Studies 14.3 (1988): 575-99. Kamuf, Peggy. “Outside in Analysis.” Mosaic 42.4 (2009): 19-34. Mercer, Gina. “The Days of Love Are Lettered.” Review of The Oxford Book of Australian Love Poems, ed. Jennifer Strauss. LiNQ 22.1 (1995): 135-40. Miller, Nancy K. Getting Personal: Feminist Occasions and Other Autobiographical Acts. New York: Routledge, 1991. Pilman, Mary S. “The Effects of Air Temperature Variance on Memory Ability.” Loyola University Clearinghouse, 2001. ‹http://clearinghouse.missouriwestern.edu/manuscripts/306.php›. Tompkins, Jane. “Me and My Shadow.” New Literary History 19.1 (1987): 169-78.

Different forms of transport have always had different effects on the cityscape, landscape, nationscape and airscape. Modes of moving from A to B have consumed, manipulated and divided this space, often requiring other activities to operate around it. This division is seen most obviously in roads and their effect on community (see for example The Castle), but also in other scapes such as the control of airspace through flight paths which has had a marked effect on, for example, the migratory flight paths of birds. With the adoption of new transport technologies, scapes are manipulated to accommodate the needs of this technology. The bicycle is an interesting example of a technology, which in its popularity last century began to affect the architecture of the landscape, before the automobile left its indelible imprint. With the disenchantment with cars in the Western world, it is interesting to ponder on the effect that bicycles are now having with the resurgence of their popularity. At this point, it must be noted that this is a purely Western orientated study and it would be worthwhile comparing these spatial effects to the scapes in a highly cycle-dominated country such as China. The popularity of bicycles peaked in the 1880-90s (Bardou et al. 7). This craze was partly due to the attraction of the technology, but also due to an associated sense of freedom and escape. This attitude to the bicycle is expressed in H.G. Wells's novella, Wheels of Chance (based in 1895) where the main character, a draper called Mr Hoopdriver, undertakes a cycling tour of the south coast of England. Freedom takes on two meanings -- firstly, Mr Hoopdriver finds a sense of freedom in being able to escape from his mundane life and travel the long distances solo and in a shorter time. He also observes another type of freedom in the form of the Young Lady in Grey who is also on a cycling tour. Mr Hoopdriver is shocked to see a woman exerting herself physically and wearing pants, yet realises that there is no question of women cycling side saddle wearing a skirt. It seems that in this form of transport, the emancipation of women progresses a little further. This freedom led to the enormous popularity of bicycles and as a result, bicycle organisations began to petition for the improvement and expansion of roads which were in a poor state due to the use of horses (Fink 8). And so bicycles began to impose their needs on the landscape and with the expansion of road networks, the landscape was altered markedly. Interestingly enough, these roadworks were one factor which led to the bicycle's demise in popularity and the accelerated manufacture of cars (Bardou et al. 9). At the time that roads were being improved, farmers in the United States were becoming distressed by the railway's monopolised power over mass transport. Due to the improved roads, the agricultural industry pushed towards using these roads for transporting produce. A number of automobiles had been designed and tested since Leonardo da Vinci first sketched the idea. 1860-90 had seen a number of reasonable size steam engines which had reasonable power/weight radio, and an electric car, invented by William Morrison (US) in 1890, had a running time of 13 hours at 14 mph (Fink 9). However, it was the internal combustion engine that revolutionised this form of transport, and it did not take long before the utopia was conceived. Not only could cars move faster than a horse and cart, they were originally deemed cleaner and healthier, according to an 1899 article from the Scientific American: The improvement in city conditions by the general adoption of the motorcar can hardly be overestimated. Streets clean, dustless and odourless, with light rubber tired vehicles moving swiftly and noiselessly over the smooth expanse, would eliminate a greater part of the nervousness, distraction, and strain of modern metropolitan life. (Conyngton 19660) There existed some initial resistance to the introduction of cars. Pedestrians, horse owners and cyclists began to feel that their road space was being impinged upon and speed laws were introduced to attempt to counteract the fanaticism (Flink 25). However, little could be done to dissuade the masses about the benefits of the car. Given the car's enormous popularity and the spatial needs of this vehicle, it is interesting to consider the architectural changes to the city and landscapes necessary to account for the requirements of the car. As the rail trucks needed tracks, so too the cars needed roads. Already existing roads in cities were altered significantly and in particular, enormous amounts of money were injected into building highways to link major cities. Examples of these projects are the now defunct Highway Trust Fund in the United States and the Pacific Highway system in Australia. These roads have always been built with great opposition from people whose homes or land were rezoned for use by governing bodies. The consumption and division of established city scapes to accommodate for the cars' needs has severely altered the spatial priorities. Leavitt (1970) suggests that previously cohesive neighbourhoods have become socially and spatially divided as a result. Small corner stores have closed down due to bypasses, neighbours cannot visit each other on foot due to uncrossable motorways, animals are killed as a result of normal routes being intersected by highways, and the airscape has become dominated by the engine fumes especially in places such as Mexico City. On a larger scale, it may be suggested that cars has had scape-altered effects on a national and transnational level. The rise of the use of motorised transport can be considered in conjunction with the growing popularity of communication systems, more specifically at this time, the telephone. Both the car and the telephone have changed the perception of space between previously distant neighbours. Travelling time and communication time have decreased as a result of the use of these devices, resulting in a greater unification of the nation state. The negative corollary to this is the disintegration of these nation states through war. The use of cars and the expanded and improved highway systems had devastating effects in World War II. The increased mobilisation of soldiers and weaponry increased the efficiency of destruction, resulting in razed city and landscapes and a shift in national borders and nation space. Thus the demands of cars have altered these scapes and subsequently dictate the use of this space. It may be suggested that the car no longer is a tool for humans, but tends to control human activity within the space it dominates. People must use a bypass to drive further for a loaf of bread which was previously bought from the corner shop now closed from a lack of business due to the same bypass. Commuters in Mexico City are forced back into cars to escape the hazardous chemicals now dominating this space. This almost master/servant relationship over space allocation in the land, city and airscapes led to the disenchantment with cars which began in the 70s. One of the results of this disenchantment was to reconsider the bicycle as an alternate, less impinging form of transport. It has taken a number of decades but, in terms of space and scapes, an interesting phenomenon is occurring with the resurgence of the popularity of bicycles in the Western world. Cycling advocate groups are highlighting the advantages of this mode of transport. Cycling is no longer discussed in the 1890 discourses of freedom and adventure, but in terms of the environment and health. The environmental rhetoric, in particular, can be framed in terms of space. For example, it may be suggested that bicycles do not tend to permeate the airscape to the degree that cars do. It is through these types of discourses that advocate groups have been arguing for the right to take back some of the space that cars have since subsumed. A struggle exists over this space. For example, in many European cities, bicycle lanes on the far left of the road (between the footpath and carlanes) have been drawn on many intra-urban roads. In Amsterdam, vehicle access is colour coded, with bikeways being marked by red bricks (Poindexter). The cityscape is not altered as a result, but challenges to the space already filled by cars are made. In Australian capital cities, these bikelanes are less successful. Many of these bike lanes exist where car parking is permitted and a line of parked cars potentially subsumes this designated space, such that it no longer exists. Thus many cyclists resort to using pathways, some specific to cyclists, others shared with pedestrians. Other innovations from the Netherlands, which have perpetuated this challenge to the car's control of space, are traffic lights with special signals for bicycles and right-of-way laws which include specific give way to cyclists rules (Poindexter). These practices question the dominion of cars in travelling spaces and go towards changing this transport paradigm. As natural resources are depleted further and little progress is made on green cars, bicycles may again find their niche. It will be interesting to see another architectural evolution of the city, land, air and nationscapes as this space changes to accommodate another shift in transport trends. References Bardou, Jean-Pierre, Jean-Jacques Chanaron, Patrick Fridenson and James Laux. The Automobile Revolution: The Impact of an Industry. Chapel Hill (US): North Carolina UP, 1982. Conyngton, Thomas. "Motor Carriages and Street Paving." Scientific American Supplement 48 (1899): 196660. Fink, James. The Car Culture. Cambridge: MIT Press, 1975. Leavitt, Helen. Superhighway -- Super Hoax. New York: Doubleday, 1970. Poindexter, Miles. "Are Bicycle Lanes the Answer?" Self-Propelled City 31 January 1999. 13 November 2000 <http://www.self-propelled-city.com>. Wells, H.G. The Wheels of Chance. London: Dent; New York: Dutton, 1935. Citation reference for this article MLA style: Felicity Meakins. "Reknowing the Bicycle; Renewing its Space." M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 3.6 (2000). [your date of access] <http://www.api-network.com/mc/0012/bike.php>. Chicago style: Felicity Meakins, "Reknowing the Bicycle; Renewing its Space," M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 3, no. 6 (2000), <http://www.api-network.com/mc/0012/bike.php> ([your date of access]). APA style: Felicity Meakins. (2000) Reknowing the bicycle; renewing its space. M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 3(6). <http://www.api-network.com/mc/0012/bike.php> ([your date of access]).