At Rainey Creek, the road terminates abruptly and becomes a footpath crossing a sturdy metal bridge. Beyond the bridge, the way opens out into an acre of grassland, the trail following the edge until it reaches forest on the opposite side. It passes over another smaller creek there, debouches into grassland again for a few hundred yards and then climbs into timber for the remainder of its transit through the Cowlitz Wildlife Area. A gate on the opposite end likewise prevents vehicles from entering from the paved haul road. I seldom see anyone on this little-known nature walk, and today it was apparent that no foot had disturbed the carpet of leaves for quite some time. A chill was in the air, so I turned back shortly beyond little Rainey Creek, scuffing through a precipitation of alder leaves with joyous abandon.
365Caws is now in its 16th year of publication. If I am unable to post daily, I hope readers who love the natural world and fiberarts will seize those days to read the older material. Remember that this has been my journey as well, so you may find errors in my identifications of plants. I have tried to correct them as I discover them. Likewise, I have refined fiberarts techniques and have adjusted recipes, so search by tags to find the most current information. And thank you for following me!
Saturday, November 5, 2011
Rainey Creek Nature Walk
At Rainey Creek, the road terminates abruptly and becomes a footpath crossing a sturdy metal bridge. Beyond the bridge, the way opens out into an acre of grassland, the trail following the edge until it reaches forest on the opposite side. It passes over another smaller creek there, debouches into grassland again for a few hundred yards and then climbs into timber for the remainder of its transit through the Cowlitz Wildlife Area. A gate on the opposite end likewise prevents vehicles from entering from the paved haul road. I seldom see anyone on this little-known nature walk, and today it was apparent that no foot had disturbed the carpet of leaves for quite some time. A chill was in the air, so I turned back shortly beyond little Rainey Creek, scuffing through a precipitation of alder leaves with joyous abandon.
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