Smithsonian.com

If you don't want to show an misformed Moon on a Christmas card, a full moon is a safe option (courtesy of flickr user sally_monster)

You probably don’t pay too much attention to the imagery on the Christmas cards you receive or the paper wrapping your presents. You probably care more about the card’s message or the attractiveness of the gift wrap. And it’s probably just as well, since a new study in the journal Communicating Astronomy With the Public has found that depictions of the Moon on Christmas cards and gift wrap and in children’s Christmas books are often wrong.

Peter Barthel, an astronomer at the University of Groningen in the Netherlands, was spurred to look into this issue after seeing a Unicef Christmas card in 2010 and a popular animated Advent e-calendar that year that both showed an unlikely Moon. The card depicted children decorating a Christmas tree beneath a waning crescent moon (one with its left-hand side lit) while the calendar scene showed people caroling, also under a waning Moon. The problem here is that the waning Moon doesn’t rise until 3 a.m. While it’s not impossible that these scenes could take place in the early morning hours, “it’s unlikely,” Barthel writes.

And so Barthel began to examine Christmas scenes on wrapping paper and cards and in books in both the Netherlands and the United States, two countries that have done much to shape our modern view of Santa Claus and Christmas. He found that 40 percent of the pictures in Dutch Christmas books and 65 percent of the Dutch gift wrap samples incorrectly showed the waning Moon. And this wasn’t a modern problem–six out of nine samples from a collection of older Dutch gift wrap also depicted, wrongly, the waning Moon.

American Christmas artists did better at showing a believable Moon in their images, but simply because they more often draw a full Moon in Christmas scenes. (The full Moon rises at sunset and shines over evening holiday scenes naturally.) That said, Barthel did find examples of incorrect waning Moon scenes. One booklet even showed a full Moon and a waning Moon in the same night.

Should we care? Barthel says yes:

The errors are innocent, somewhat comparable to incorrectly drawn rainbows, with the colour at the inside of the arc. Now watching beautiful phenomena like rainbows and moon crescents is one thing, but understanding them makes them all the lot more interesting. Moreover, understanding leads to knowledge which lasts.

And I don’t think it’s too much to ask for artists, especially ones drawing for children, to pay a little attention to accuracy in something like this. After all, if artists like Vincent Van Gogh and Edvard Munch could take the time to use real moons and stars in their paintings, surely modern artists could as well.

A human riding a horse, photo by Patrick Gries (from "Evolution")

Scientists have long used the skeletons of animals to study the relationships among different species. French naturalist Pierre Belon in 1555 included an engraving of a human skeleton beside a bird skeleton in his History of the Nature of Birds to emphasize similarities. Nearly 200 years later another French naturalist, George-Louis Leclerc, Comte de Buffon, compared the skeletons of humans and horses. He wrote in 1753:

Take the skeleton of a man. Tilt the pelvis, shorten the femur, legs, and arms, elongate the feet and hands, fuse the phalanges, elongate the jaws while shortening the frontal bone, and finally elongate the spine, and the skeleton will cease to represent the remains of a man and will be the skeleton of a horse.

Charles Darwin also used skeletons of living species–along with live and taxidermied specimens and fossils–as he developed his theory of natural selection.

It would appear that skeletons, then, would be a great tool for teaching evolutionary theory. But I wasn’t expecting them to be so beautiful.

Evolution, by Jean-Baptiste de Panafieu, photographs by Patrick Gries

The first thing you notice when you see a copy of Evolution by Jean-Baptiste de Panafieu are the photographs. One of my magazine colleagues called these stark black-and-white images of animal skeletons, by Patrick Gries, “science porn.” An artist friend drooled over the beauty in the imagery. (You can see four examples from the book in our photo gallery.) It could be incredibly easy to own this book and never read the text.

But that would be a shame. The book, brilliantly translated by Linda Asher from the original French, is organized into 44 easy-to-read essays about various topics in evolution, from history to modern theory, each illustrated by a set of skeleton photographs. The co-evolution of predator and prey species, for example, includes images of a leopard skeleton attacking a screwhorn antelope, a golden eagle swooping down on a rabbit and a red fox pouncing on a common vole. The text is full of details and stories that will be new even to readers who are familiar with the topic of evolution. But everything is explained well enough that those who have not read much about evolution before will not be lost.

Evolution may seem familiar; in 2007, the book was released in large format and quickly sold out after a selection of its images ran in the science section of the New York Times. This new version is a much more shelf-friendly and reading-friendly size, and it includes a handful of new images. The book would make a great last-minute holiday gift for the science or art lover on your list or just a fine addition to your own library.

(I can hardly bring up the topic of evolution without mentioning Smithsonian magazine’s January issue, now online. With it, we created something called Evotourism–a new type of travel focused on evolution. We’ve started off with 12 destinations, from the Jurassic Coast of England to Australia’s Kangaroo Island. You can learn about evolution by digging for your own fossils, viewing some of the world’s weirdest species ever to evolve, even helping scientists study the co-evolution of a predator and its prey. And if you’ve got your own Evotourism suggestions, we want to hear them.)

In this image from Science on Ice, graduate student Maria Tausendfreund collects a water sample from an Arctic melt pond during a brief period of 'ice liberty.' (photo by Chris Linder)

Find the perfect holiday gift for each person on your list can be difficult, especially if you don’t share the same interests or hobbies. What can you buy for someone who loves science? Here are some ideas from the Smithsonian staff; add your own in the comments below.

For the photography lover
Science on Ice: Four Polar Expeditions: Photojournalist Chris Linder has been documenting polar science expeditions for the past several years, and he’s collected his best photos in this new book. The beautiful photography is accented by essays from the science writers, including Smithsonian freelancers Helen Fields and Hugh Powell, who accompanied Linder on the trips (Helen’s trip may seem familiar to blog readers; she wrote to us from the ship Healy in the Bering Sea). What makes this book truly special is that Linder’s photos include not just adorable wildlife and stunning Arctic landscapes but also fascinating images of scientists at work and at play. “The scientists I know are as tough as they ships they sail on,” Linder writes in the book. “By photographing scientists working in the field, I hope to create a new stereotype…[and] by extension, I hope that readers, particularly students, will develop a stronger interest in science as a career.”

For the book lover who doesn’t need another book
The Origin of Species on a T-shirt: Out of Print Clothing sells t-shirts, tote bags, stationary and other items emblazoned with iconic book covers, such as Charles Darwin’s classic work. And for every item sold, the company donates one book through Books for Africa, so your holiday giving goes just a bit further.

For the animal lover
An “Ape-stract” Painting: Chimpanzees, Cheeta and his grandson Jeeter, use a paintbrush dipped in bright colors to create their abstract creations, which are available with a donation to the C.H.E.E.T.A. Primate Sanctuary in California.

For the stuffed animal lover
Biochemies DNA Molecule Plush Dolls: Chemical biology graduate student Jun Axup started making these cute little toys a couple years ago to promote science education. The cute little molecules, with smiley faces, come in a set of four: A, G, C and T.

For the neuroscientist or brain surgeon
Brain Freeze Ice Cube Tray: This silicone tray makes four brain-shaped ice cubes (or jello molds) at a time. Perfect for when you need a cooler head.

For the mathematician
I Heart Math T-shirt: Express your love of mathematics in a way only people who remember what imaginary numbers are will understand.

For the budding inventor
Reinventing Edison Build Your Own Lightbulb Kit: If someone wants to build a better lightbulb, she can start by learning how to build the kind Edison invented. Perhaps tinkering with the original model will lead to insights about where to go next on the inventing path.

For the budding biologist
Bacterial Growth Science Kit: This kit contains enough petri dishes, agar, pipettes and test tubes to run your own mini science lab. What kind of bacteria could you grow? It’s all around you, from your skin to your computer to your kitchen sink. Just be prepared to be grossed out when you discover just how many microorganisms are there to be found.

For the budding chemist/environmental scientist
Environmental Student Lab Test Kit: With this kit, your little scientist can perform five different tests on water and four on air, examining things like dissolved oxygen levels in the creek down the street or particulate levels outside your home. And unlike a standard chemistry set–always a fun buy for a little chemist–you may get some useful information from this gift.

And for yourself, to wear around your anti-evolution relatives
“My ancestors spent 3.8 billion years evolving out of the primordial ooze and all I got was this lousy t-shirt” T-Shirt: This tee, from the National Center for Science Education (it’s the last item on the store page), will let you promote the teaching of evolution while heeding your mother’s advice to keep your mouth shut on the topic during that holiday visit to Uncle Fred’s house. (And if you want to be sneaky with the gift giving on that trip, you could get your niece or nephew an Evolvem stuffed animal, which evolves from one creature to the next.)

To welcome the newest member of Smithsonian.com’s blog family, Just One More Story: What’s new and novel in children’s books, I’ve rounded up some of my favorite kids’ science books that have been published in the past year:

Pond Walk, by Nancy Elizabeth Wallace

Pond Walk by Nancy Elizabeth Wallace (ages 4 to 7)
This must be how biologists go to the park with their kids–pointing out all the interesting plants and animals, teaching about how these organisms interact, encouraging their children to document it all in drawings and telling silly jokes along the way.

11 Experiments That Failed by Jenny Offill and Nancy Carpenter (ages 4 to 8 )
Each bizarre experiment starts with a question–Can a kid survive the winter on ketchup-covered snowballs?–and presents a hypothesis, list of materials, set of methods and an outcome; they’re mini scientific papers and great for teaching the basics of the scientific method in a hilarious way.

In the Bag! Margaret Knight Wraps It Up by Monica Kulling, illustrated by David Parkins (ages 5 to 8 )
This is the wonderful story of of an early female inventor. Margaret Knight began inventing at the age of 12, when she was working in a cotton mill and created a device that made looms safer. But her most famous invention is one we’re all familiar with–she created a machine that made flat-bottomed paper bags.

Coral Reefs by Jason Chin (ages 5 to 9)
What makes this book special is the premise of the illustrations–a little girl goes to the New York Public Library and opens a book on coral reefs only to have the library, and then the entire city, turn into a vibrant reef for her to explore.

How the Dinosaur Got to the Museum by Jessie Hartland (ages 6 to 9)
By following a Diplodocus from its discovery to its eventual display in the Smithsonian Institution, Hartland has created a lovely tribute to all of the people who help to make a museum’s dinosaur exhibit possible.

Nature’s Adventures by Mick Manning and Brita Granstrom (ages 6 to 9)
Anyone can have an adventure in nature, no matter where they live. Manning and Granstrom giving budding naturalists a head start with some simple advice on what to bring and what to look for, whether you’re at the beach, in a forest or at home in the city.

North: The Amazing Story of Arctic Migration by Nick Dowson, illustrated by Patrick Benson (ages 7 to 10)
Dowson follows birds, whales, caribou and other animals as they migrate from as far away as New Zealand to the Arctic in the spring, and sees them through fall, when the weather turns for the worse.

The Secret World of Whales by Charles Siebert, illustrated by Molly Baker (ages 8 to 12)
A comprehensive look at the whale world, including whales in literature, the history of whaling and highlights of current whale science. For example, one page mentions the work of Hal Whitehead, who was featured in the recent Smithsonian story about sperm whales.

Far from Shore: Chronicles of an Open Ocean Voyage by Sophie Webb (ages 9 to 12)
Webb, a naturalist and artist, documents a four-month research voyage in the Pacific on the NOAA ship McArthur II with fascinating diary entries (marked by latitude and longitude so readers can map out her journey for themselves) and beautiful illustrations of the creatures she saw along the way.

There are 200 million European starlings in North America (courtesy of flickr user goingslo)

If you live in North America, you probably recognize European starlings, those little black birds with white polka dots that chirp and chatter and, in the winter, hang out in flocks of thousands. There are 200 million of these birds on the continent, and they can be found as far north as Alaska and as far south as Mexico. Numerous though they are, starlings are actually non-native invasive species. And we can blame Shakespeare for their arrival in America.

Steven Marche explains in How Shakespeare Changed Everything:

On March 6, 1890, a New York pharmaceutical manufacturer name Eugene Schieffelin brought natural disaster into the heart of [New York City] completely without meaning to. Through the morning snow, which congealed at times to sleet, sixty starlings, imported at great expense from Europe, accompanied Schieffelin on the ride from his country house into Central Park—the noisy, dirty fulfillment of his plan to introduce every bird mentioned by Shakespeare into North America. Schieffelin loved Shakespeare and he loved birds….The American Acclimatization Society, to which he belonged, had released other avian species found in Shakespeare—the nightingales and skylarks more commonly mentioned in his plays and poems—but none had survived. There was no reason to believe that starlings would fare any better. Schieffelin opened the cages and released the birds into the new world, without the smallest notion of what he was unleashing.

For someone who apparently loved birds, you have to admit this was a pretty daft plan. There was every reason to believe that the birds would die—it was bitterly cold and sleeting, and attempts with other species had led to dead birds. But the tiny flock found shelter beneath the eaves of the American Museum of Natural History, just to the west of the park, and they survived the winter. And then they began to breed, and spread, and breed some more.

It seems that the starlings some special characteristics that gave them an advantage over other bird species, Marche writes:

The protractor muscles of their beaks allow them to pry and to probe better than other birds. They can open their bills after pushing them into the soil, which allows them to forage for invertebrates easily and in drier areas. The starling’s eye have evolved to the narrow front of its face, giving it the perfect view for prying. Its binocular vision combined with its open-bill probing ability means that starlings can find insects in colder climates better than other birds, which means that starlings do not have to migrate to warmer climates in winter, which means that they can take the best nesting holes during the breeding season.

Starlings will bully other birds, kicking bluebirds, flickers and woodpeckers out of their nests. They can consume whole fields of wheat and transmit avian, animal and human diseases. A fungus called Histoplasma capsulatum can grow in the soil beneath roosting starlings; the fungal spores can become airborne if the soil is disturbed and cause the disease histoplasmosis, which, in rare cases, can cause blindness or death.

People quickly realized what a pest these birds could be and tried to get rid of them. In Hartford, Connecticut, in 1914, residents tried to scare the birds away from their nests by fastening teddy bears to those trees and firing rockets through the branches. The White House tried speakers that emitted owl calls. Columns around the U.S. Capitol were outfitted with electrified wires. People have tried shooting, poisoning, trapping, repelling and frightening the birds, but the population still grows. They have plenty to eat and lots of habitat to live on—what else does a species need?

These birds are a prime example of why it can be so difficult to control an invasive species once it has become established—no matter how many you wipe out, there’s still plenty to take their place.