Force Of Bad Habit

Day 261: On or near the anniversary of my mother's birth, the Turk's Cap lilies come into bloo......

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...the Columbia Lilies come into bloom. They ranked second only to Skunk Cabbage among her favorite flowers, and I never see them without remembering her contribution to one of the more persistent bits of mis-learning in my life. You see, her father had lived in the Midwest where the redder true Turk's Caps grow. When he came out West, the nomenclature came with him and was applied to our native "tiger lily." He called them "Turk's Caps," not knowing any better, and my mother picked up the erroneous taxonomy as a matter of course. In turn, she instilled it in me at an early age. I was in my 20s before I found out that "Turk's Caps" were in fact Columbia Lilies (Lilium columbianum), and thus I began trying to retrain myself from the ingrained misidentification.

Nowadays, if I am approached by someone asking for an identification of the "tiger lily" growing on the roadside, I do not hesitate in the slightest with my answer: Columbia Lily. It is only when I am remembering my mother that I slip and say, "Oh, the Turk's Caps are in bloom."

Rock Penstemon, Penstemon Rupicola

Day 260: Rock Penstemon is one of the more common wildflowers you'll find in the subalpine areas of Mount Rainier National Park. It has a propensity for growing in rock crevices, blurting out mats of its vivid pink color on vertical grey faces. There are a number of different varieties of Penstemon, and only a few have the rounded leaf shape this species exhibits. Some are tall with flowers emerging at almost every axil while others are small and lay close to the ground. Some form tufts of flowers at the ends of their stalks while others rise on single stems. Friends often respond with disbelief after I've pointed out several distinctly different plants, calling them each "Penstemon" in turn, but yes, there is quite a bit of diversity in this beautiful, showy species.

Striped Coralroot, Corallorrhiza Striata

Day 259: Many plants formerly known as "saprophytes" have been reclassified as "mycoheterotrophs," i.e. non-chlorophyllic species which parasitize fungi to fulfill their nutritional needs. There are two forms of mycoheterotrophy. The first is called "obligate" and exists when the plant is fully dependent on the fungal component. The second type is called "facultative," in which the plant requires the fungal host for a portion of its life cycle.

Many field guides still refer to plants such as this Striped Coralroot (Corallorrhiza striata) as "saprophytes," but the mycoheterotrophic biology is much more complex than merely growing on decaying forest debris. A whole new science has opened up with the discovery of these plants' true nature!

A Wildflower Day

Day 258: I'm always telling people not to pick the wildflowers, and when I settled in with my photographic score for the day, I found myself in a quandary. I simply couldn't make myself pick one!

Yes, I was out on the bike again today, the fifth and last day of sun in June if the forecast can be believed. In honor of dry weather, I'd left home intending to ride the Foothills Trail for a short thirty miler. Somehow, I wound up back on the Chehalis-Western again, and by the time my ride was over, I'd clocked just over FIFTY miles. I think what tipped the balance was the prospect of wildflowers. The Foothills Trail offers fewer varieties. There was also the birdwatching consideration. I tend to spot more interesting species on the Chehalis-Western, and today was no exception. Both the Scrub Jays and the Cedar Waxwings put in appearances, but the little stinkers were too quick for me, as they so often are.

Western Tent Caterpillar, Malacosoma Californicum Pluviale

Day 257 (bonus -and I use the word with some reservation- edition): When I was a youngster, Tent Caterpillars were very common in western Washington. They were the bane of homeowners and orchardists, the larvae and adult caterpillars doing significant damage to almost any type of deciduous tree. Countywide spraying programs and heavy fines for homeowners who did not exterminate the pests on private property were initiated as control measures, and were fairly effective. A few nests could be spotted from time to time during late spring and early summer.

It's been several years since I had an up-close-and-personal discovery of a TC in the wild. As a child, I used to collect them, much to my mother's horror. I was always particularly pleased when I'd find a blue one, something which occurred in a ratio of approximately 1:100. I know now that the blue ones were a different Malacosoma species, but a tent caterpillar is a tent caterpillar, regardless of its coloration, and not something you want to carry home to your fruit trees. I was rather surprised when I spotted a dozen or so among the salmonberry vines in an area managed by Cowlitz Wildlife today, and I resisted the temptation to fill my pockets with "woolly worms" as I had done so often as a child.

No Trail To Take You There

Day 257: There is no trail to Sulphur Creek Falls unless you count the spaghetti of confusing and abbreviated game trails which, likely as not, wind you up in a thicket of devil's club or salmonberry bushes or nettles. The ferns are higher than a hiker's head, and above them rise ancient cedars. There are fallen trees and root wads and rocks and greasy mud. There are slopes too steep to descend safely if you go too high, dead-ends which force you into the creek if you go too low. There are man-eating mosquitoes and green glades, and the sounds of water rushing echoes off narrow box-canyon walls. The spot is primeval, a microecology of mosses flourishing among deep shadows; sunlight comes here for only a few hours at the peak of day. There is ever a mist in the air, thrown off by the cascade, and a sublime peace cast by the isolation.

I did not know I was going to Sulphur Creek Falls today, but Nature took me by the hand and drew me in, a Muse with a plan. She gave me a rumble of thunder which roared louder than the falls, but saved the waterworks until I was safely down from the adventure she had devised for me. I love unexpected days!

Regular Guests

Day 256: Shortly after the Evening Grosbeaks show up in the spring, the Rats-with-wings also appear. Okay, they're Band-Tailed Pigeons, a different breed than your average city pigeon, and they are a native species. Now while I don't mind in the least putting out several hundred pounds of black-oil sunflower seed every year for the Grosbeaks, I do resent the pigeons' gluttony. In an effort to foil them, I bought a new feeder yesterday to replace the open tray feeder in the front yard. The walls of the seed chamber slope outward from bottom to top and the perching rail is set fairly close to the base so that it does not easily accommodate a pigeon's large body. The Steller's Jays barely fit, but it suits the shape of a Grosbeak quite nicely. They and the smaller birds have been able to eat without interference from the pigeon population today and although I've gone through more seed, at least I am comforted to know that it went where I wanted it to go. This female Evening Grosbeak (one of my regular guests) seemed quite grateful for the improvement to her dining table.

Bug Me

Day 255: Before you can even think about asking, let me assure you that I did not find this Pitcher Plant (Sarracenia sp.) growing in the wild in Washington. I found it growing at Watson's Nursery, and it followed me home to be displayed against dark velvet before being set out in the yard. Yes, you heard that last part right. Contrary to popular belief, these "exotic" carnivores are not houseplants, nor are they shade lovers as many people suppose. According to the instructions from the grower, this plant will do best in full sun, and in nutrient-poor soils. Fertilizers are contraindicated because the plant does not draw its dietary requirements from the ground, but rather from the insects it traps and digests. They prefer to have their roots wet at all times except during the winter months when the soil should be kept lightly moist. Pitchers are native to the east coast and can be found from central Florida into the southern portions of Canada.

A Little Disgruntled

Day 254: We're all a little grumpy because of the persistent rain and cool weather, but the expression on an Evening Grosbeak's face always seems to be one of wanting to say a few choice words on the subject. In truth, Coccothraustes vespertinus is a social and friendly bird, less inclined to fly away at the approach of a human than many, and ever willing to reward a breakfast of black-oil sunflower seeds by appearing at your feeders by the dozen. Shown here, the male of the species resembles an overgrown Goldfinch. The female is a duller greenish-grey and she lacks the prominent "eyebrow" which gives the male his frowny mien. Both have large beaks which are specialized for cracking open the seeds of conifers, the primary food source for those who don't have access to a supplemental diet.

Delphiniums In The Rain

Day 253: While much of the rest of the country is sweltering in 90°-plus temperatures, here in the Pacific Northwest, summer lasted all of two days. Rainy Junes are not uncommon, but there is an unseasonably cool aspect to this one which inspires my furnace to come on several times each morning and a pervasive feeling of dampness which clings to clothing despite the reading on the thermostat. While east-coast friends are sipping iced tea and taking walks on sunny beaches, I'm sitting here in fleece, wondering if this will be another Year Without A Summer for the region.

Purple Finch Pair

Day 252: Purple Finches (Carpodacus purpureus) demonstrate a perfect example of sexual dimorphism, i.e., a profound difference in coloration and/or other characteristics exhibited by male and female members of a single species. To the untrained eye, these two specimens would appear to be different birds, however, the one on the top branch is a female Purple Finch and the showier one on the bottom is a male. In birds particularly, the female is often less colorful, a factor which affords her greater protection from predators. However, studies have shown that in many cases, female birds show a preference for males with bright coloration over those with duller colors. Think about that the next time you go tie shopping, guys!

You Can't Hide Forever

Day 251: I will readily admit that this photo is not up to my customary "field guide" standard, but it marks the first time I have ever managed to get an identifiable shot of a Black-Capped Chickadee. The little buggers just like to hide from me!

I biked forty miles on the Yelm-Tenino and Chehalis-Western trails today, and that was after spending twenty minutes standing stock still beside the hazelnut bush where the Chickadees were playing. By the time I'd identified one combination of branches and leaves sufficiently that I could zoom in on it, my subjects (and there were several to choose from) had taken refuge behind something else. Oh, I got to see Chickadees hanging upside-down, darting from twig to twig. I got to see a lot of leaf-flutters as well, marking the passage of one of these little sweethearts into concealment in the heart of the bush. Short of Warblers, Chickadees have proven themselves to be one of the most difficult avian species for me to photograph. Today, I was not going to budge until I had one in the bag. You little stinkers can't hide from me forever!

American Speedwell, Veronica Americana

Day 250: Smaller than a Forget-me-not and much more widely distributed along thin stems, American Speedwell (aka American Brooklime) is vividly blue nonetheless. Its leaf is edible and can be used medicinally. The plant prefers to have its "feet" wet, and may often be found growing along streambanks or in ditches which remain wet for most of the year.

Stubby The Towhee

Day 249: Before you ask, I have no idea how Stubby lost his tail. Nor can I say with any degree of certainty that he was one of my regular visitors before the Incident, but he's been in this condition for at least a month. I thought at first that he might have been a young bird whose tailfeathers were late in coming in. It's rare, but it sometimes happens that the largest, fattest feather shafts have more difficulty emerging from tight pores. His long wing feathers were present, though, and appeared normal as he flew. I think, rather, that he had an encounter with a land-based predator (i.e., not a hawk or an owl), and escaped at the cost of his entire rudder. When he next moults, a new set of tailfeathers will grow in. I seriously doubt that he'll need a refresher of his Predator Evasion course.

Fringecup, Tellima Grandiflora

Day 248: Third time is a charm. Plagued by wind, rain and poor light, I made three trips up Mineral Hill to the site where I found this specimen of Fringecup growing. Three trips! But I wanted it for my "field guide" and none of the rest of them were showing the pink tint typical of the flower as it ages.

Related to the Mitreworts, Fringecup is taller and bears larger blossoms. The cups are approximately 1/2" long. For all of being a rather nondescript plant in the overview, it is quite fragrant. It is only upon closer examination that the details of its deeply fringed petals becomes apparent. Shown here against a spray of cedar, the species prefers a moist forest environment and shady conditions.

In an amusing aside, Pojar and MacKinnon comment that the name "Tellima" is an anagram of "Mitella," the related family of Mitreworts. Could it be that there is humour among taxonomists?

Osteospermum

Day 247:  I do not ordinarily buy bedding plants, preferring to start my own from seed; however, when I went past the outdoor garden shop in McKenna yesterday on my way to the Chehalis-Western bike trail, a sign which said "African Daisies 2/$3" convinced me to stop on my way home. I half-expected them to be in two-inch pots because nothing is that cheap nowadays. I figured the price was a lead-in to what I presumed were more expensive plants, the ones I could see from the roadway. I was surprised to find four-inch pots lavishly filled with blooming Osteospermum at the advertised price. I probably should have bought four, but I limited myself to two. Showcased here in my yellow lawn chair, they are now in the ground.

Nuttall's Larkspur, Delphinium Nuttallii

Day 246: The weather was good this morning for the first time in two week and the forecast looked rather dismal for the remainder of the week, so I decided to go for a short bike ride on the Chehalis-Western Trail. The C-W cuts through one of western Washington's grass prairies, and often provides a menu of delights to anyone interested in wildflowers or birds. Today, I found the Larkspur in bloom, its vivid blue color standing out strikingly against the paler grasses.

As for that "short" ride, when I came to my turn-around point at the ten-mile mark, I discovered I had left my water bottle on the kitchen counter. I shifted to Alternate Plan B, and rode an additional seven miles to Taco Time where I bought bottled water and lunch. My "short" ride turned into 34 miles.

Common Monkeyflower, Mimulus Guttatus

Day 245: There are at least fifteen separate species of Monkeyflower which grow in Washington, half of which are yellow in color and half of which are a magenta shade. Several have darker colored dots or blotches in their throats. They are a wetland plant and a favorite of backpackers, often filling the channels of seeps and springs or lining ditches with vivid cascades of color, bringing a bit of cheer to those inevitable days spent hiking in the famous Pacific Northwest rain. Who could fail to smile back at their charming monkey faces?

The Unusual Flower Of Sweetfern

Day 244: Comptonia peregrina is not native to the Pacific Northwest. I was given a start of it by a friend who lives on the east coast and am growing it under controlled conditions in one corner of my garden. It is a deliciously scented small shrub, emitting a cinnamony fragrance on warm afternoons. When dried and crushed, the leaves make a wonderful addition to potpourri. Sweetfern (one word, and not a fern) is also called Spicebush.

Until now, I had never really noticed the inflorescence of this plant. I had observed the long catkins which follow the flowering stage, but had overlooked the flowers themselves. They are quite unusual and are camouflaged very well amongst the lacy greenery.

Whistler's Onion

Day 243: In pursuit of a photo project featuring 100 possibilities for an onion, I seem to be abusing the heck out of the Old Masters, but oh, it's fun! This, of course, is a riff on James Whistler's "Arrangement in Grey and Black No. 1," colloquially known as "Whistler's Mother." While neither my take on it nor Whistler's original was done entirely in grey and black, the muted tones give a monochromatic sense to the work overall.

With limited space, I was unable to exactly duplicate the scene as shown in the painting. As it was, I had to move several large pieces of furniture and remove a 6 x 9 rug from my bedroom in order to have a blank wall behind me. The window stood in for one of the two frames in Whistler's work, although the second one in my image had to be hung lower in order to get it into the shot. The dark "curtain" is a length of handwoven fabric and was not wide enough to entirely cover the left portion of the image, and regrettably, I did not have a voluminous black skirt to spread out gracefully around the chair legs. Two doilies make up my cap, and another serves as my lace jabot. The frame surrounding the textured photo is from PaintShopPro, tweaked until it was more suitable for the tonal range of the image.

That Old Black Magic

Day 243: As black as irises come, Superstition holds its color better than most. The hue is somewhat affected by soil acidity and may appear more maroon or even dark red. The falls are bearded with a lighter purple which reveals a hint of saffron yellow deep in the heart of the bloom, and several flowers will emerge from each stalk. This iris has a fragrance as rich as its dark shade, an aroma some people liken to grape Kool-aid, slightly lighter than that of true "scented" irises, and lovely on a warm afternoon.

Paintbrush, Castilleja Sp.

Day 242: The Indian Paintbrush is beginning to bloom at an elevation of approximately 4000', but the higher areas of Mount Rainier National Park are still covered with snow. One of the best-loved plants of the subalpine slopes, Paintbrush is also one of the first to emerge in the short summer growing season in this elevational range. There are a number of different species occurring in the Park with colors ranging from yellow to vermilion, scarlet, crimson and magenta. Look for bright spots of color in talus fields and on cliffsides as well as in the alpine meadows.

Mama's New Toy

Day 241: I bought myself a new toy today, and it's no longer as shiny as it was in this photo.

To make a long story short, I purchased a defective quartz heater from Home Depot at the start of winter, and it took me this long to get any satisfaction from the company. Home Depot finally issued an in-store credit in the amount of the purchase, and today I spent it on two "garden tools": a lady-sized chainsaw and a weed-whacker.

I needed a hedge trimmer and I needed to remove the wrist-thick stubs which projected several inches above the basic crop level of the yews. The way I figured it was this: you can use a chainsaw for a hedge trimmer, but it doesn't work so well the other way around. Besides, a chainsaw is good for a lot of other projects. That said, the first one is done. I won't say the hedge is level on top, but at least those unsightly stubs are gone. My hair is full of yew bits, though.

Frog Pelt, Peltigera Neopolydactyla

Day 240: Frog Pelt in any of its various color forms is one of my favorite lichens. Today while on a work party in the Park (Mount Rainier), I discovered a wonderful colony of it growing at the base of a tree near the spot where I've previously photographed Calypso Orchids. Its Latin name "neopolydactyla" refers to the "new many fingered" apothecia common to the species, fingers which look almost as if they're wearing nail polish. Frog Pelt is an environmental indicator. It is sensitive to air pollution and only grows where there are low concentrations of pollutants.

Oh, Gimme A Hug!

Day 239 (bonus edition because a friend identified the spider for me): Misumena vatia (Crab spider) likes daisies as much as I do. Their camouflage is so effective that you frequently fail to realize you have passengers until after you've put your freshly picked bouquet on the mantel. They have an amazing ability for hanging onto the bottom side of the flower. The same species of spider is often found on dandelions, obvious on the yellow blossom but not so obvious when hiding inside the fluffy seed head.

Inside-Out Flower, Vancouveria Hexandra

Day 239: This photo represents a struggle on several levels, not the least of which was the difficulty of capturing a tiny flower in bad light with a breeze blowing it around. It has taken several days of attempts to reach this point and now I can put the project to bed.

You see, field guides generally focus on identifications to be made in the flowering phase of a plant, and very few of them give you a size measurement. From this image, you could suppose that Inside-Out Flower was approximately as large as Bittersweet or even Jeffrey's Shooting Star. You would be quite wrong. These blossoms are tiny, each approximately 3/8" (1 cm.) in length and only 1/4" (5 mm.) wide. Therein lay my first obstacle in identifying the plant. I failed to notice the flowers during their short period of bloom despite the fact that they grow lavishly beneath the big Douglas fir in my front yard. The second hurdle was that none of my numerous field guides clearly showed the distinctive leaves which for most of the season are all anyone can see of the plant. Time and again, I paged through the guides hoping to notice something I'd previously overlooked, but all to no avail.

About ten days ago, I spotted the flowers. A bell went off in my head. I knew I'd seen them pictured in more than one guide. I dragged out Turner's "Wildflowers of the Pacific Northwest" which is organized first by color and then by number of petals, and quickly found my mystery plant in its pages, a side view which did not show the leaf. Cross-checking in Pojar and MacKinnon (my second favorite reference), I found a close-up of the blossom without a hint of the leaf in the photograph. No wonder this little thing has plagued me for so many years!

Bunchberry, Cornus Unalaschkensis

Day 238: According to some authorities, the previous identification of this plant as Cornus canadensis (Canadian Dogwood) is in error. Canadian Dogwood is an eastern species, and the Cornus of the Pacific Northwest is sufficiently different to merit a classification all its own. Here enters the confusion created by common names which plagues the weekend naturalist! I would suggest that alaschkensis be referred to as "Bunchberry" to distinguish it from Canadian Dogwood if you must give it an English appellation. Perhaps more people would use the Latin if it didn't tongue-tie them and overtax their spelling skills.

Bunchberry, pretty little thing that it is, grows in damp forested areas. Like a Poinsettia, the white "petals" are not petals at all, but bracts, and occasionally sports appear which have white stripes or patches on the leaves. The inflorescence is the tight cluster of small flowers in the center. The fruits arise in a grouping of a few bright red berries, edible but pithy and not particularly valuable as a food source.

Vanilla Leaf, Achlys Triphylla

Day 237: Vanilla Leaf is a common sight in western Washington forests, although a surprising number of people confuse it with Trillium when not in bloom because it has three leaves. In fact, the leaves are quite different. Those of Trillium are heart-shaped and somewhat leathery while those of Vanilla Leaf have a distinctly scalloped margin and are almost triangular. Dried, they smell rather sweet and vaguely reminiscent of vanilla, hence the common name. The root also has a vanilla-like scent. Vanilla Leaf is often found growing in masses in the open forest environment.

Seriously, You Can't Make This Up

Day 236 (another bonus movie): And this is just ONE feeder! It's a flamin' madhouse out there, and it goes on ALL DAY LONG! They'll still be at it when I'm ready to go to bed. I get up before they do, and my first duty of the day is to fill the feeders. Again.

Longmire Lady

Day 236: While out for a walk in the rain around the Trail of the Shadows today, I encountered a very willing model who permitted me to photograph her in a variety of poses. I was hard put to choose which one I liked best and finally settled on this close-up because it shows her lovely long eyelashes and pretty whiskers. Black-tailed deer (Odocoileus hemionus columbianus) are by no means uncommon in the area, and are a subspecies of mule deer.

Sugar Suckers

Day 235 (bonus edition movie): THIS is where the food goes! Today was rather chilly, and the hummers have been out in force, the air alive with their chatter and the buzz of their wings. A gallon (!) of hummer food has disappeared in less than twelve hours, and I am scheduled to work tomorrow. I need a hummer-sitter, fast!

American Goldfinch, Carduelis Tristis

Day 235: One of my favorite summer birds, the Goldfinches are back. This year, they seem to be more nervous. I have been trying to photograph one for several days, and each time I slide the kitchen door open, they take off and don't return for several hours. I fooled this one and his lady-friend whose tailfeathers are visible behind him. I opened the living room window instead. The vantage point places me closer to the feeders, but it may also bolster their confidence, knowing that I'm indoors.

Purportedly a year-'round resident of western Washington, I never see them until May or June. Goldfinches love thistle seed (nyjer), but will also eat other small seed and even tree buds. Blown dandelion heads are another favorite, which gives me an excuse not to mow my lawn.

Hatiora Rosea

Day 234: Today was one of those days when I was frustrated at every turn as I attempted to find subject matter for 365 Caws. Even though I was finally able to put a name to a wildflower I've been unable to identify for years, I couldn't get a good shot of it because the light was poor and the wind was blowing. After several dozen tries, I gave it up as a lost cause. Desperate, I said to myself, "Well, there's always daisies. I can stick 'em down in food coloring to do something different," so off I went to find them. I got home and couldn't locate the vase I wanted to use. While searching for it, I went in the back bedroom where the Christmas cacti spend the year and got a huge surprise. The Hatiora was in bloom! And not just a blossom or two, but lavishly so.

This "miniature" cactus (often called an Easter cactus) was given to me by a friend about thirty-five years ago. It has survived countless bouts of underwatering and neglect, and occasionally rewards me far beyond what I deserve. It is now sitting above the computer where it will receive compliments from anyone who pays a visit to my home.

Bird, Watching

Day 233: With hummingbirds buzzing through the air like a swarm of gnats, you'd think I'd get tired of photographing them, but when one perches just a few feet from me and gives me the eye, I can't resist. This little lady was making trips back and forth to the feeder alternately with roosting on the tomato support about five feet from my lens. If that's not the hummingbird equivalent of signing a model release, I don't know what is!

Female Rufous Hummingbirds currently outnumber the males at my feeders by approximately 12:1. With cooler temperatures and light rain, each feeder may have as many as six birds simultaneously at the ports or waiting for one to be vacated. You're in danger of getting your ears pierced or your eyes poked out when you walk out there!

Collared

Day 232: After putting in an unscheduled two hours at work today following our Division's annual group photo, I came home, changed out of my uniform and then headed back up the hill to do some photography of my own. The Mountain has a way of delivering the unexpected, and I was delighted to find one of our overly habituated foxes (Vulpes vulpes cascadensis) at an overlook. I was disappointed that she seemed to prefer pavement to snow, and after taking several shots, I moved on, taking note that she was not radio-collared. I drove on up to Reflection Lake and on my way back, I spotted a second vixen, much blonder than the first. Her radio collar was quite obvious, and once she'd figured out that she was going to get no treats from me, she strolled off into the forest, giving me the perfect opportunity for this "habitat" photo. If you look closely, you can see the black transmitter under her neck ruff. For more information on the project, read the official story: Fox Research - Mount Rainier National Park