Penny Perspectives - Western Coralroot

Day 230: Yet another of western Washington's native Orchids, Western Coralroot (Corallorhiza mertensiana) is the most frequently seen of the four Coralroots known to occur in Mount Rainier National Park. Its petals are marked with red or magenta stripes, and the lower petal has a spur at the base, unlike either C. maculata or C. striata. Stems may reach as much as 18 inches in height. The plant is an obligate mycoheterotroph, i.e., it has no leaves and contains no chlorophyll, and relies on a fungus to break down soil into usable nutrients. A flower dainty enough to grace a faerie's evening dress as this "Penny Perspective" demonstrates, Western Coralroot prefers the shady, "sun-fleck" forest which constitutes much of the Park's lower elevations.

Audrey Emergent

Day 229: The bizarre flowers of my Sarracenia rubra (lovingly nicknamed "Audrey") are beginning to open. Audrey is the pride of my garden, although because of her specialized growing requirements, she resides in a pot on the back porch where her feet can be kept constantly wet in the bog-like conditions she prefers. Surprisingly easy to grow for as exotic as this Sarracenia appears, she has rewarded me with two blossoms this year with a third seemingly arrested in its development while no bigger than a grape. The central domed structure of a mature flower is golf-ball sized, the petals surrounding it 2-3 inches in length. At the base of each inner petal is a small gap which allows insects into the interior of the dome, as I discovered last year when I dissected the flower after it was completely spent. Audrey's digestive juices had dispatched any and all trespassers into her inner sanctum, "woe to all ye who enter here." The dome itself seems to function in preventing insects' possible escape, compelling them to alight where they will be trapped and consumed. One has to marvel at the process of genetic selection which allowed such a plant to develop in this manner. When you think about it, it makes human beings seem rather boring overall.

Braggin' Up The Grandkids

Day 228: You know how it goes...every grandmother you know carries a pocketful of the latest photos of the grandkids around, showing them to friends and other relatives, anxious to share stories and recount antics. I'm no different. I just don't have the kind of "grandkids" you're used to hearing about. Mine eat bugs. Oh, your human grandchildren do too? Then we have more in common than I thought.

Anyway, I spent a delightful day visiting my Sundew fosterlings by kayak, checking on their health and well-being, happy to find that most of them were very well-fed. The batch on Sundew Island were a little wan from lack of direct sunlight, but Jack's lot are absolutely vibrant. The individual colonies are very dense and appear to be spreading along the logs despite having to compete with moss, grass and the occasional Pseudacorus. Many of the traps held large insects or multiple smaller ones, everything from big flies and spiders to tiny gnats and mosquitoes. I did not observe any flower stalks or blossoms, but new disks were abundant.

It's nice to have a happy, healthy family. I just wish they lived a little closer.

Pure Black Magic

Day 227: "Black magic"...that's how I'd describe "Superstition," one of the blackest varieties of iris on the market. It holds its color well, although it can be quite variable depending on soil conditions as I discovered when I attempted to move one tuber to a less acidic bed. The following year, the flowers in that space emerged maroon-red and the ones in the original location were as black as ever. I wasn't sure at the time if disease or soil pH was the cause, so I decided to go with the simplest remedy and again transplanted the tubers to their present spot. Superstition resumed working its old black magic, much to my delight.

Penny Perspectives - Spotted Coralroot

Day 226: Arguably the showiest of the Park's four known Coralroot species, Corallorhiza maculata when seen from above is easy to gloss over as "a little brown plant." It's only when you take a closer look that the freckled face of this Orchid species reveals itself in all its speckled beauty. Another mycoheterotrophic species, C. maculata lacks chlorophyll and therefore relies on a mycorrhizal component's assistance in order to draw nutrients from the soil. Maculata can be quite common where it occurs, as it was where I found these near Westside Road, but since many mycoheterotrophs exist only in symbiosis with specific fungal species, its occurrence is likely to be patchy.

A Day In The Garden

Day 225: Since moving into this house 25 years ago, I've gardened in varying degrees. At first, it seemed that the battle against the weeds would never end. The flower beds were overgrown with grass when I took possession of the property, and with the help of a friend, we excavated them to a depth of 18", sifting out weeds and rocks, replacing anything which looked like it might turn into a desirable plant. It took three or four years of diligent weeding to bring any semblance of order to the chaos, and during that time, I planted mostly annuals so I could pull up anything green which sprouted the following spring. Later, I began to add a few perennials to the ones we'd unearthed, and now I've abandoned annuals almost entirely. The garden is at last manageable with a minimum of care.

This year, however, good weather came early, and I went a bit berserk when the grubbing-in-the-dirt mood came over me. I laid new beds, planted shrubs and trees, shifted perennials to better locations and added new ones to fill in the gaps. Finally, I can honestly say that I am enjoying gardening rather than looking upon the activity as something more or less demanded of any homeowner. Now I am seeing the real rewards!

From left to right, top to bottom:

This variety of Osteospermum carries the enchanting name "Spoonflower." Can you see why?

An old-fashioned favourite, this yellow Columbine was one we salvaged.

The Wisteria was one of the first things I planted. It has borne more flowers this year than any time past.

Lily-of-the-Valley was a must-have because as a child, I enjoyed it at my grandmother's home.

Sarracenia "Carolina Yellow Jacket" is my newest carnivore. It stands in a dish of water to keep its feet wet.

The pink Columbines came with the house. Not my favourite color, I am phasing them out gradually.

Don't Panic!

Day 224: "This is terrific," Arthur thought to himself, "Nelson's Column has gone, McDonald's has gone, all that's left is me and the words 'Mostly harmless.' Any second now all that will be left is 'Mostly harmless.' And yesterday the planet seemed to be going so well."

The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy says that if you hold a lungful of air you can survive in the total vacuum of space for about thirty seconds. However, it does go on to say that what with space being the mind-boggling size it is the chances of getting picked up by another ship within those thirty seconds are two to the power of two hundred and seventy-six thousand, seven hundred and nine to one against.

...twenty-nine seconds later Ford and Arthur were rescued.

*****

Improbable as it might have been that I would find myself enjoying Douglas Adams' legendary Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy and related novels after having given up on modern fiction almost entirely, I am happy to say that despite my reluctance, I now include myself on the list of series fans.

On the surface, the books are a fairly typical sci-fi romp, filled with aliens and fantastical adventures, but underlying the superficial theme are numerous social commentaries, reflections on the human condition and multiple levels of humour ranging from slightly rude to esoteric, and with enough of each to keep a broad audience chuckling.

I dismissed the books after an initial read, and ignored them for several years until a friend convinced me to give them a second chance. On that reading and subsequent ones, I found myself empathizing with Arthur Dent, stuck in a realm not of his own making without so much as a proper cup of tea to ground him in his new reality. His situation was one in which I've felt most of my life was spent (if on a substantially smaller scale), that of a fish out of water. In relating to Arthur, I had been drawn in by Adams' eminent skill as a writer.

Little humans that we are, there is a bit of Dentarthurdent in us all: somewhat naive and unprepared, laden with vulnerabilities yet endowed with inner strengths which surface only in adverse conditions. Too, we identify in some measure with Ford Prefect, whose open acceptance of all which befalls him gives him an equanimity we (subconsciously or consciously) hope we might achieve. In either case, the oft-heard slogan of the books universally resonates with us, as iterated on the cover of the fictional "Hitchhiker's Guide" to which Ford and Arthur often refer: Don't Panic. That's it, then. Don't Panic!

(background image courtesy of NASA under Creative Commons license)

Yard Birds

Day 223: Five years ago, I got new neighbours, noisy ones. They had a kid (young), they had dogs, they had parties, they had arguments, and they had cell phones which must not have worked indoors because they talked on them on their porch at all hours of the day and night. The bird population which I had cultivated over twenty years dropped to an all-time low in the first two weeks, never returning to more than about 60% of the former census. Those birds which did come to the feeders were jumpy and nervous even around me, a radical change from my having to ask them to move over when I went to put out breakfast. My bird-watching activities also suffered. While I had formerly spent many hours sitting on the porch in the company of my feathered friends, now I seldom stayed out more than five minutes at a time, hoping to avoid being engaged in complaining one-sided conversation. In short, I readjusted my lifestyle, all but giving up an activity which had previously given me great enjoyment. It goes without saying that when the neighbours announced their intention to move a few weeks ago, I felt secretly pleased.

The house is unoccupied now, soon to be demolished and with no certain plans for the property's future. Although thieves have already ransacked it, one good thing has come to pass: my bird census is visibly growing, as shown by these photos all taken within half an hour pleasantly spent on my back stoop.

Army Nurse

Day 222: The first of my hardy fuchsias to bloom (admittedly with a head-start from the nursery), "Army Nurse" is putting on a spectacular show. Hummingbirds love these flowers, so I've planted four varieties to date: Army Nurse, Genii, Dollar Princess and Erecta, all but the latter bearing flowers in the red/purple range. Erecta is pink and white. Genii is a small-flowered variety, the one most often seen in gardens. In fact, it was only two years ago that I discovered there were hardy (perennial) fuchsias with blossoms as large as the annual varieties. Most will withstand winter temperatures to 10° or lower without mulching, so why would anyone fuss with annuals when durable perennials are available? I wish I had room for more!

Penny Perspectives - Rockcress, Arabis Furcata

Day 221: With my three best field guides open on my lap, I found myself growing more and more frustrated at not being able to pin down an identification for this plant. It didn't key with the limited number of field characteristics I'd noted, and none of the pictures looked exactly right, so I packed off a couple of images to a group of my "best experts" for analysis, but none of them could tell me any more than what it was NOT, based on the suggestions I'd offered. Over the next few days, we eliminated more possibilities, and in the end, two new resources were added to my growing list of like-minded associates and references with a final identification of Rockcress (Arabis furcata).

While this edition of Penny Perspectives shows a tiny native wildflower which inhabits rocky areas in the lower elevations (specifically Westside Road), it also gives another valuable perspective: in science, the ability to say "I don't know" is more important than any amount of knowledge you may possess. It goes hand in hand with an even more difficult phrase we'd all do well to practice: "Okay, I'm wrong." A good scientist recognizes both of those expressions as doorways to learning. Rockcress made me use both until we got it right.

Asarum Caudatum, Wild Ginger

Day 220: Among all of Mount Rainier's wildflowers, Wild Ginger (Asarum caudatum, aka Long-Tailed Ginger) has one of the oddest and most elusive blossoms of all. Borne close to the ground, the three petals with their long, thready tails conceal themselves beneath heart-shaped leaves as if sheltering from a storm. From tip to tip, the flower may span four inches, but it is not easy to spot. It is better to learn to recognize the leaf and hairy stem, and to keep a record of where you have observed the plant so you can return when you think it will be in bloom. Flowering generally occurs in early June, but warm temperatures have brought them out early. A moisture lover, you'll find this exotically beautiful plant along the banks of mountain springs. This photo was taken in the Longmire area.

Penny Perspectives - Blue-Eyed Mary

Day 219: Nosegays of Forget-me-nots get all the press when it comes to "little blue flowers," but for sheer blueness, nothing can rival Blue-eyed Mary (Collinsia parviflora). Although at first glance, her dainty blossom seems to have four petals, in actuality a fifth lurks behind the lower two. The lower petals are usually darker than the upper two. The flower forms a nodding tube, bent at the throat (side view to the right and immediately behind the open face). Look for Collinsias along Westside Road and in other low to mid-elevation locations, and keep in mind the "Penny Perspective" for scale.

Penny Perspectives - Black Swamp Gooseberry, Ribes Lacustre

Day 218: Most hikers in the Park will have seen Black Swamp Gooseberry at some time in their travels. The black berries look tempting, and although they're edible, their flavour is bland and unappetizing. In any event, the stems of this gooseberry are a substantial deterrent to picking; sharp, hard spines occur at the nodes and smaller thorns arm the twigs. Despite having few attributes to recommend this shrub to humans, its flowers are beautiful when seen at close range. You'll have to look carefully for them, as this Penny Perspective demonstrates.

Penny Perspectives - Tellima Grandiflora, Fringe-cup

Day 217: Their green coloration makes the urn-shaped flowers of Fringe-cup (Tellima grandiflora) rather inconspicuous, but on closer observation, you will find that they are very unusual indeed. Fringed petals, sometimes tinged with pink, curl back from the lip of a nodding cup, giving the blossom a spidery appearance. Although the flower stalks of this plant may reach heights of almost three feet, individual blossoms are seldom larger than a pencil eraser. Look for them along moist streambanks and ditches. These specimens were found along the Park's Westside Road.

Garden Gazing

Day 216: For as long as they've been on the market, I've wanted to add a gazing globe to my garden, but always felt that the pleasure I'd derive from one wasn't proportional to the price. However, a couple of weeks ago, I found a cute little solar-powered model on sale. Okay, it was substantially smaller than what I'd had in mind, but that was offset by the fact that it would shine at night (not that I sit in my yard in the dark...I don't). I was quite pleased with the acquisition, and then a couple of days ago, I happened to find large gazing globes and stands also on sale, and for a price I could justify. The big one isn't solar-powered, but it does have a glow-in-the-dark spiral. Other than bits of driftwood and the occasional attractive boulder, these are the first decorative items I've ever added to my garden.

Penny Perspectives - Heartleaf Twayblade, Listera Cordata

Day 215: If I had shown you the photo on the left, how large do you think you would have said the individual blossoms were? Welcome to "Penny Perspectives" where I'll show you some very tiny wildflowers in close-up views. This is Heartleaf Twayblade (Listera cordata), another of western Washington's native orchids. Overall, the plant stands about six inches in height, and midway on the stem bears the two heart-shaped leaves which give it the first portion of its common name. The second half of its name refers to the long, two-forked petal at the bottom of the flower. Like its Orchidaceae cousins, it likes damp, shady forests and is often found along streambanks, blooming in late spring and early summer. This specimen (one of dozens) was photographed at Longmire.

Viola Langsdorfii, Alaska (Aleutian) Violet

Day 214: Although most of the Violets you'll find in Mount Rainier National Park are yellow (a fact which amuses me no end), the Alaska Violet (Viola langsdorfii, aka Aleutian Violet) comes closer to living up to the name. A soft lavender colour, threaded with deep violet veination on the lower three petals, this dainty flower loves streambanks and wetlands. Unlike Western Dog Violet and Marsh Violet (two other blue-flowered species), the Alaska Violet does not form runners (stolons).

Little Shop Of Horrors

Day 213: My friends call her "Audrey" after the plant in the movie "Little Shop of Horrors" (which I have yet to see, by the way). Sarracenia is putting up a total of three flowers this year, the third much slower to develop than these two. We're still a couple of weeks away from seeing this lovely carnivore's mysterious and beautiful blossom, and after she's enticed us with her flamboyant show, her pitchers will begin rising from the ground, hungry for mosquitoes and flies. When I trimmed back dead tips, I couldn't help but notice how well she'd guarded the back door. In the depths of each pitcher were dozens of husks, the indigestible portions of her meals.

Bloomin' Broom

Day 212: Invasive and pervasive, western Washington counties have all but given up on trying to eradicate Scotch Broom (Cytisus scoparius) from public lands. The best "weed warriors" can hope to do is control any further spread into areas not already infested. I won't claim it's easy to pull. Even small plants have a taproot extending to China, but with a weed wrench, it's possible to remove an established plant with a stem as thick as a child's wrist. Ideally, this should be done in the spring before the seed pods have had a chance to dry. Like many other weeds, Broom's pods burst explosively, discharging seeds over a radius of several yards.

I have to admit I think this pest is pretty when viewed en masse as a rolling sea of yellow, and there are a couple of colour variations less often seen, most commonly the red and yellow petal arrangement shown on the left. Rarely, you may find a plant with purplish-mahogany lower petals and creamy upper ones, but these are invariably smaller blossoms and are a hybrid. The scent arising from a broom-covered embankment is unmistakable; not quite sweet, a little pungent, pleasant to some and offensive to others. In the '60s and early '70s, dwarf hybrids were commonly planted along the freeways. Many people objected to the use of the plant in this manner, citing allergies to the pollen until eventually, the practice was stopped. Drivers on I-5 may still see examples of the dwarf varieties here and there.

Up Butterfly Alley

Day 212: I think I shall have to start referring to "Mourning Cloak Alley" by a broader name, "Butterfly Alley" because although the Cloaks dominate it during their early-season flight, it hosts just about any other species you might hope to see in Pack Forest. While I was chasing Commas, another bit of bright orange flashed through the periphery of my vision. Noting where it landed, I turned the camera toward it without moving my feet and zoomed in. It turned out to be a Red Admiral (Vanessa atalanta, left), the only one I saw during that day. Margined Whites (Pieris marginalis, right) were abundant as always, and it's possible that other Whites may also have been on the wing. I wish I knew what made that one quarter-mile stretch of the 1000 Road so popular with the Lepidoptera.

Walks With Snails

Day 210: Between trying to avoid stepping on snails and keeping my arms away from the nettles, my walk on the South Swofford Trail yesterday was quite an adventure. The snails were as abundant as I've ever seen them, and new to me was what I took to be a black-bodied version of the common Oregon Forest Snail (Allogona townsendiana). After doing a little research, I believe it is a different species entirely, the Puget Oregonian (Cryptomastix devia). C. devia is reported to be abundant in the Cowlitz River drainage, i.e., where these specimens were found. The Pygmy Oregonian (C. germana) is a similar snail, but smaller.

Like many snails, these species are hermaphroditic. Some are self-fertile, which is to say they are capable of reproduction on their own in the absence of a mate. The bottom photo shows three snails (Allogona townsendiana) engaged in laying eggs on rotting hardwood.

Pyrgus Ruralis, Two-Banded Checkered Skipper

Day 209: When it comes to Lepidoptera, I'm not ashamed to admit that I dispense with the field guides and run straight to the professionals for help. That said, I got this one right, as confirmed by BugGuide.net. I could tell it was a Skipper; the way the wings are held is very distinctive. That allowed me to narrow the choices in BAMONA's regional checklist which allows you to select country, state and county if you so desire. BAMONA? "Butterflies and Moths of North America" is another excellent on-line reference, especially when used in tandem with BugGuide.

According to my sources, it is uncommon, appearing in some locales but not in others, and may even be rare in some areas of its range. In all my years of observation, it was a first for me.

Occupational Hazards And Techniques

Day 208: So how does one take a photograph of a tiny plant way over there on a floating log when one is in a kayak? In case you were wondering, my first recommendation is to get yourself a camera and some serious glass or one with a good zoom. In my case, it's the latter. Secondly, you will need a background in either yoga or contortionism.

Here you see the naturalist in Log/Leg Lock position. Having maneuvered your craft into the best position for the light (which, incidentally, is a series of rapid fluctuations between shadow and brilliance), you must then find a secure niche in which to place one blade of the paddle. Once you are satisfied that it cannot become dislodged by wave action (a balance between the anchor point bobbing up and down and the kayak doing likewise, but at a different interval), draw your knee up as closely under your chin as possible avoiding tangling your foot in fishing gear, and then extend your leg out and over the paddle shaft. When possible, place your foot on an object outside the boat, but remember to keep your weight distributed to prevent accidental immersion. In order to achieve the correct angle on your subject, you may need to hold your arms at full stretch above your head for a protracted period of time. In any event, you will probably have to lean radically backward in order to see the view screen, especially if you wear trifocals. When you are done shooting, gradually return your appendages to their normal positions and take a deep breath.

What, you don't see them? I can assure you that inside that green ellipse, there are hundreds of fingernail-sized Sundew disks, each bearing dozens of hairs sparkling with beads of digestive enzymes. Don't believe me? Look at yesterday's post. That colony is just to the right of the dark clump of grass about a quarter of the way from the left end of the ellipse. Zoom...it's the only way to go!

Glorious Sundews!

Day 207: If I had checked my personal phenology records before I left home, I might not have been so surprised when I reached Jack's Log on Lake St. Clair and saw that it was carpeted in red. I'd thought I was too early to find my little carnivorous friends. Needless to say, the tenor of my kayaking adventure for the day changed in that moment, and I spent the next five hours checking their customary haunts. I am happy to report that the colonies on Sundew Island are doing quite well despite the fact that their raft got relocated into a rather shady location by accident or purpose. Jack's lot are flourishing, and at least to my eye appear to be thicker than last year. They have certainly had a varied diet. In addition to their usual fare of mosquitoes and the occasional fly, I noted one spider which had strayed too close.

Now You See Me...Now You Don't

Day 206: Charles L. Pack Experimental Forest (a University of Washington extension) is a great place to go butterfly hunting. The network of roads and trails sees little foot traffic during the week, and the public is not allowed to enter in vehicles. It's a quiet place unless there is logging going on (it is, after all, an experiment in forestry management), and that is so infrequent that I have only encountered it a few times in the last twenty years. You won't find wildflower meadows there, but you will see a variety of habitats, and there's one in particular which I've dubbed "Mourning Cloak Alley."

I'd thought to find Mourning Cloaks today, but they had an early start and seem to be done for the season. What I found instead were Green Commas, Margined Whites, two Red Admirals, a few dozen Blues which I lack the skill to separate, and a little black-and-white checkerboarded fellow I've enlisted professional help to ID (I suspect it's Pyrgus ruralis, the Two-Banded Checkered Skipper).

Of all the above, the Commas were the most cooperative...too cooperative in the case of this particular specimen. It insisted on landing at my feet, sometimes in front of me, sometimes just a few inches behind. I had to be very careful when I moved to avoid stepping on it. When the wind blew, it opened its wings and laid them flat. When the breeze stopped, it folded them and became almost invisible. Hard to believe that a bright orange butterfly would have any success at playing "Now you see me...now you don't," but the Commas have it down to a science.

CAT Poster

Day 205: You may have to step back from your screen a few paces and dust off your imaginative skills to see it. The photos spell "cat" ... C-A-T. Skunk obliged as my model, asleep during C and A, patiently enduring very close proximity to the camera for T. Even so, it took more than a few attempts because she kept looking away just as I'd snap the shutter. I had hoped to achieve the plural, perhaps enlisting Tip for the task, but both he and Skunk kept wiggling their esses, anxious to be petted or fed.

Hydriomena Speciosata

Day 204: Please, dear readers, do not hold me to the identification of this moth because I am only about 95% convinced that it is H. speciosata (no known common name). It is certainly a Hydriomena, and only two species are known to occur in western Washington. H. nubilofasciata feeds on oak; H. speciosata prefers Douglas fir and Western hemlock, the precise habitat in which this specimen was found (thus my tentative identification). It is one of the Geometrids, a family which includes loopers and inchworms.

Anyone who has spent any time in our northwestern forests in the autumn has at some point come across an inchworm suspended in mid-air by a single thread of silk almost too fine to see. Wafting on the slightest breeze, spinning slowly in a shaft of sunlight, the little caterpillars always make me stop to admire them. Neither are the moths uncommon, although they do not ordinarily fly so early in the year.

Given the early emergence I've witnessed in plants and frogs recently, I am more than ever convinced that our mild winter and low snowfall are responsible. What is disturbing is that not all species will respond to altered conditions in the same way or on the same schedule. This little fellow may be ahead of his food source by a month or more, and therefore may not survive.

A Crow Walks Into A Bar...

Day 203: A Crow walks into a bar...

When you belong to a photography group which issues a monthly list of assignments a la a scavenger hunt, you never know what you may be asked to do. This month, it was "leave the comfort of your familiar surroundings and go somewhere new. As you experience a new environment for the first time, capture your feelings with your camera." Given that, I knew exactly what I wanted to do, and didn't have to go too far from home to achieve my goal.

I'm not a drinker. Nor do I belong in the same social stratum as the area residents who frequent local taverns. Making it even harder to walk into a bar and order a beer was the fact that I'd been out kayaking and was feeling rather chilled, but I steeled myself for the task and approached the barmaid. "I have a rather unusual request," I said, very conscious that my speech patterns and enunciation invariably make me sound like the "after" version of Eliza Doolittle, moreso when I'm about to tell a whopping big fib. "I am participating in a photo journalism class, and we've been asked to take a photograph which captures the atmosphere inside a pub." Sensing some reluctance in the proprietress' eyes, I hastily added, "I'm perfectly willing to buy a beer."

"Long as it's them," she said, pointing to the six men dropping f-bombs two to the sentence, "and don't have me in it." Agreeing, I settled for an Alaska somethingoranother since she didn't have Moose Drool, the only beerish thing I can abide.

I moved to the far end of the bar to wait for my drink. It arrived in a frosted mug, three times the amount of beer I'd normally consume in a year. I set the camera on the bar and opened the flip screen. As I did so, I heard one of the patrons remark boozily, "I think she's takin' pitchurs," which I was...in between great gulps of bitter beverage hurriedly swallowed in the hopes of making a rapid escape.

Fortunately, I was down to the last inch when the conversation one stool over turned to single women and eligible bachelors who didn't have gun-carrying ex-wives (apparently there are none who fit that category in Morton). I was greatly relieved when at last I pushed my glass to the rear of the counter, thanking the barmaid as I did so and leaving with the impression that the words "thank you" were foreign to her ears.

My legs weren't quite going where I'd intended when I made my way out the door of the Bucksnort Pub (its true name, by my oath), and the full effects of my imbibing caught up to me two miles from home. I seriously considered parking the car on the side of the road and making the remainder of the journey on foot. However, now the assignment is complete, and I profoundly hope we don't have a repeat of it any time soon.

Bellidiflora Up Close And Personal

Day 202: I recently purchased a snap-on macro filter thinking that I'd be able to get more detail for the field-guide style shots I present to my readers. I was only half right. While shooting macros does bring you "up close and personal" with your subject, the "field guide" aspect is lessened due to the diminished depth of field which excludes any habitat features one might use in making a solid identification. A good zoom keeps that frame of reference by allowing foreground and background detail when desired. Personally, I find out-of-focus foreground material distracting (the moss in this shot, for example). In macro photography, it is difficult to avoid when the camera is placed at a side-on angle. That said, a photo like this one could be useful in a classroom situation where the instructor wants to define terms: apothecia, squamules, podetia, primary and secondary thalli. Add a couple of arrows, and you have a PowerPoint slide for Lichens 101.

Cladonia bellidiflora would make a good poster child for lichen-speak. The bright red apothecia appear at the tips of podetia thick with ragged squamules. Even without arrows, you can recognize those parts.

Anything For A Friend

Day 201: My little friend here came within an inch of having his tail shortened radically by the lawn mower. At the risk of having him return to the same spot while I made another circuit, I stopped what I was doing, picked him up and transported him to the safety of the begonia pot on the front steps. It took a few minutes to gain his confidence. He was breathing hard and fast, tongue flicking in and out as he attempted to scent my purpose. Once he realized I meant him no harm, he was perfectly willing to sign a model release and in fact was so grateful for the reprieve from sectioning that he didn't bother to ask for a copy of the contract for his lawyer to review.

We have three varieties of Garter Snake in western Washington which can be told apart by counting the scales at certain points on their bodies. Western Terrestrial Snakes typically have 19 or 21 scales at mid-body, 8 upper labial scales and 10 lower labial scales.Needless to say, I did not wish to subject my friend to the indignity of a scale count, not after what he'd already been through.

Update: I am reasonably certain that Mr. Snake is a Northwestern Garter Snake (Thamnophis ordinoides).

Kinnickinnick, Arctostaphylos Uva-ursi

Day 200: The dainty bells of Kinnickinnick (emphasis on the syllables is the same as "a candlewick") emerge as rosy pink buds and fade to a lightly blushed white as they mature. Also known as Bearberry (Latin: uva-ursi), this member of the Manzanita family forms a dense ground cover in dry-soil conditions and can be found from near sea level to the alpine zone in western Washington. Berries develop in the early summer, and although they are edible, they are rather tasteless and seedy. You will sometimes hear Bearberry called "Indian tobacco," a term less often used in the Pacific Northwest than elsewhere although the leaves were smoked by members of some local tribes.