Whistle-pig

Day 260: You'd think Hoary Marmots didn't have a care in the world, lounging around on the rocks in the "Sound-of-Music" setting which characterizes the subalpine areas surrounding Mount Rainier. Also colloquially called "whistle-pigs" for their high-pitched call, these large rodents are members of the same family (Sciuridae) as squirrels and chipmunks. Their nonchalance is misleading, however. During the few months when vegetation is available, Marmots must consume large quantities of food in order to put on the body fat which sustains them through a long hibernation. This handsome paradigm of the species was simply taking a break between snacks, one of several Marmots I observed during a short hike above Paradise.

The Icing On The Cake

Day 259: Yesterday, I introduced my readers to two of the most common species of Paintbrush to be found in Mount Rainier National Park. Today, it is my pleasure to show you a rare variety.

First, I want you to notice that I used the word "variety" in that last sentence. This is not a rare plant, per se, but it is a rare colour. Just like pansies, petunias and poppies can be found in a variety of colours, so can some of our native wildflowers. Their genetic differences are not sufficient to categorize them as separate species or even as sub-species despite the fact that they are visually quite different from others of their same species.

Castilleja parviflora var. oreopola is a case in point. This "Magenta Paintbrush" has white bracts. If you compare a "leaf" of magenta-coloured Paintbrush (C. parviflora) to a "leaf" of this white Paintbrush, you should be able to tell that they are identical in all respects except colour. The white form is rather rare in the Park, previously reported from the Sunrise area. Following a lead from a botanizing friend, I was pleased to be able to observe not one but two specimens near Paradise on a morning hike today.

Castilleja Paradise

Day 258: Of the six species of Castilleja (Indian Paintbrush) you may encounter at Mount Rainier National Park (others occur elsewhere in the Pacific Northwest), C. miniata (Slender Paintbrush aka Scarlet Paintbrush, left) and C. parviflora (Magenta Paintbrush, right) are the most common in subalpine meadows. Like Christmas poinsettias, their most dramatic feature is not their flowers. It is their colourful bracts, modified leaves which in the case of the Paintbrushes often conceal much of the actual blossom. Note the inconspicuous yellow "spike" among the bracts in each of these photos. That is a Paintbrush flower (or more properly, its corolla, i.e., a set of fused petals surrounding the reproductive structures of the plant).

So where might you find a painted meadow? These specimens were photographed yesterday at Paradise where, in a normal year, patches of snow might still be on the ground. Wildflower season has begun early this year, and our subalpine meadows are already filled with every colour of the rainbow. Get out there and take a hike!

Proud Scouts Plus One

Day 257: Seven young citizen scientists (one of whom declined to be in the photo) earned their Girl Scout Ranger Resource Stewardship badges today. The girls, their three leaders, Ranger Kevin, Centennial Ambassador Ian and I helped them gather phenological data for several species of wildflower alongside the trail to Myrtle Falls (Paradise, Mount Rainier National Park). The girls observed and photographed plants, recording species names (scientific or common), growth phase (leaf, bud, flower or seedhead), as well as GPS coordinates to match each of their photographs. The information and photos will be uploaded to a website when they return home. This session followed an earlier one with me on Thursday, learning the art of "field-guide" photography (as opposed to art photography). These young ladies should be very proud of themselves for the service they have rendered to the Park!

Colourless

Day 256: Bonus points to anyone who recognizes what's going on here without reading the explanation. Regrettably, the exercise didn't quite pan out like I'd hoped. It was my first attempt at gold-panning and although my technique seems to be correct, my handful of black sand gave up no colour unless there are micro-particles mixed in with the magnetite. I'll do a closer analysis before emptying the pan onto my driveway, but I can say with certainty that I won't get rich at this rate.

Out With The Scouts - Pacific Chorus Frog

Day 255: Of all the things I do in the Park, one of the most rewarding and enjoyable is working with youth groups such as Scouts. Today I had the privilege of doing just that: explaining to them the difference between art photography and field-guide photography and then going on a patrol of the Longmire Stewardship Campground to practice. I had some specifics in mind, hoping to infect them with my enthusiasm for rare plants, and indeed that goal was achieved. However, their own finds were the most memorable and exciting: Red-legged and Pacific Chorus Frogs, and a colony of Cone Plants (Hemitomes congestum) numbering at least a dozen in a two-foot diameter circle.

Upon hearing one of the girls shout, "Crow! I found something weird!" I abandoned photographing our little friend here and went to check. I found the troop gathered around the plants, some already on hands and knees taking pictures with cell phones and iPads. As soon as their discovery registered, I let loose a whoop of delight and complimented them on being keen observers. Then I emphasized the rarity of the species and, having already introduced the subject of mycoheterotrophy, listened as they discussed among themselves the specialized conditions required for the plant to grow. It never fails to amaze me when ten-year olds grasp a concept many adults find daunting. As we walked back to their camp, several of the girls regaled me with questions.

At their campsite, I reviewed all the photos they had taken. Some were blurry or badly exposed, some were what you might expect from a ten-year old photographer. However, in each and every camera was at least one good quality photo (and sometimes many) of one particular subject: the Cone Plants. Seven young scientists walked away from this event with solid documentation of a rarity. You can bet they'll remember this camping trip!

Guest Of Dishonor

Day 254: The Guest of Dishonor at today's All-Park Safety Meeting and Employee Orientation was Monochamus scutellatus, the White-Spotted Sawyer, a notorious predator of spruce and pine forests. I knew it only as a long-horned beetle of some type, so requested expert help in making an identification. I don't "do" insects. It's hard enough to manage wildflowers and specific families of lichen, so when something like this chap shows up, I turn to someone with the proper skill set, someone who is as passionate about their field as I am about mine. Knowledge is the common currency among naturalists, and for the most part, it passes freely between disciplines to contribute to a greater comprehension of the whole. The search for knowledge drives us; the sharing of that knowledge is equally compulsive. Feed us, and we will grow. Turn us on, and you may find that we don't have an "off" switch, but it is all a part of our enthusiasm for the natural world.

Inner Sanctum

Day 253: Audrey's vivid colours are fading now, but her mysterious blossoms are still as fascinating as ever. Under the central "umbrella," structures common to almost all plants can be seen. Style, stamen or ovary, none is particularly remarkable. It is only her manner of concealing them which renders her such a thing of beauty. She is elegant, this lady, knowing what to reveal and when to reveal it. The next time you put on short shorts or a pair of tight-fitting jeans, keep that in mind.

Paddle Caching

Day 252: Although I've pretty much abandoned geocaching, occasionally one will crop up which I can't resist. Mostly, these exceptions take the form of "paddle caches," i.e., ones you have to access by boat. A new one showed up in the area yesterday, and for a variety of reasons, I didn't sprint out the door in pursuit of "first to find" honours. For one thing, it was windy. For another, it was a warm and sunny Sunday, the kind which brings out power-boaters and jerks on jet-skis. The last time I was out on Alder, a teenager on a jet-ski thought it would be funny to try to swamp my 'yak, cutting a powerful wake 15' from my little craft. If I'd had a phone with me, I would have called the sheriff. Apparently, this young man needed to be made aware that there are laws against trying to drown people. Thus Sunday was out, given the likelihood of other boaters, but in any event, not too many geocachers are equipped for marine caching, so I figured the "first to find" would still be attainable if I waited a day.

In the meantime, I tried to solicit backup, suggesting to Kevin (my friend and supervisor) that he could rent a 'yak for the day and join me. Sadly, he declined. However, after some major arm-twisting, I did convince my caching partner Dan to drive up from Olympia. We set out together about noon, island-bound on choppy water, paddling strongly into the wind. The waves subsided to a tolerable level once we reached the protected back side of the island, and there we hugged the shore, looking for a place to put in. The lake is a reservoir, and the island was once a mountain. Its sides are steep, and do not give easy access. That said, when we finally did locate a landing, we were a mere 387 feet laterally from the cache. Note that I said "laterally." We also had a vertical gain of 150 feet with which to contend, a path obstructed with prickly Oregon Grape and massed Sword Ferns. It wasn't the most challenging brush-crash the two of us have ever done, not by a long shot, but it certainly wasn't a "park-and-grab," either. Needless to say, we found the cache, an excellent hide by someone new to the sport. That in itself was remarkable, since new hiders lack the experience to know what differentiates a good cache from a bad one.

With the mission thus accomplished, we finished out the day by completing a full circuit of the island. It had definitely paid off to wait a day. There were only three power-boats on the water, and everyone played nicely together.

Pipsissewa Profile

Day 251: Two species of Pipsissewa may be found in Mount Rainier National Park. By far the most common is Chimaphila umbellata, also known as Prince's Pine. The second, Chimaphila menziesii, may be found growing interspersed among specimens of its cousin, and a few points of identification will help you separate them. The leaves of C. umbellata grow in distinct whorls and have fewer "teeth" along their edges. C. menziesii's leaves are toothed from tip to base and are alternate. C. umbellata bears more flowers per stalk, as opposed to C. menziesii's two or three. Shorter on both blossoms and foliage, it is understandable how C. menziesii became known as "Little Prince's Pine," although the "pine" part of the name continues to baffle me. The suggested etymologies do not seem to be supported in any authoritative work.

Pipsissewa was important as a "medicine plant" among the local indigenous cultures, cited as a remedy for kidney ailments and as a poultice for sore muscles. In fact, these specimens were photographed in the designated Tribal Use Area in the Longmire Stewardship Campground, a space set aside by the National Park Service for the people of the Nisqually Nation where they may gather the plants for use in ceremonies and in traditional medicine.

Columbia Lily, Lilium Columbianum

Day 250: Following shortly behind Skunk Cabbage in her personal compendium, Columbia Lily was my mother's second favourite flower. There was only one problem: her father had come from the midwest where another similar Lilium was called "Turk's Cap." Consequently, my mother called them Turk's Caps, and by association, I came to call them Turk's Caps as well.

I was in my mid-twenties when I discovered that my mother's colloquial nomenclature was incorrect, and my repeated attempts to remedy her vocabulary were blithely ignored. Grandpa had called them Turk's Caps, and that was good enough for her. On the flip side, I was rather embarrassed that I had played a role in distributing her misinformation to friends, but the only recourse available to me was to stop using the term myself. When something has been ingrained from childhood, this is no easy task! Every year when the Columbia Lilies' freckled faces first pop up along the roadside, I say, "Oh, the Turk's Caps are out!" and then remind myself that mother doesn't always know best.

Pyrola Chlorantha, Green Wintergreen

Day 249: One of several Pyrolas which grow in Mount Rainier National Park, Green Wintergreen can quickly be separated from other varieties by its unusual style. No, I'm not talking about how fashionable it is. I'm referring to the long reproductive structure in the center of the flower. While other Pyrolas may have a curved style, only Pyrola chlorantha also has greenish or cream-coloured flowers. Its leaves are smaller and darker than other Wintergreens and do not have white veins; however, leafless forms do occur. Not to be confused with Gaultheria species (the wintergreen of breath-mint fame), the Pyrolas take their common name from the fact that they are evergreen.

Penny Perspectives - Mountainbells, Anticlea Occidentalis

Day 248: Although not actually "rare," Mountainbells is a noteworthy find in Mount Rainier National Park, and sufficiently scarce to set me racing into my colleagues' offices with a shout of, "Rare plant alert! Rare plant alert!" For the last month, I've been watching a site where I had observed them previously, waiting for the flowers to emerge above the plant's two or three long, strappy leaves. The leaf blades are what you will notice first. The inflorescence is harder to spot, the delicate bells held on the upper third of the stem. If you crouch down and sight along a line a foot above moist forest floor, you may discover dozens where you thought there were only leaves. The individual flowers are beautifully coloured as this Penny Perspective demonstrates, but are rather inconspicuous in a broad overview.

In checking these off on your botanical "Life List," you may find them listed as Stenanthium occidentale in your field guides. The correct nomenclature, recently updated by phylogenetic research, is Anticlea occidentalis.

Garden Fare

Day 247: They're enormous. They're delicious. They're growing just outside my kitchen door where I can make no excuse for not getting a daily dose of antioxidants. This is "Blue Gold," a midseason bearer, and extraordinarily prolific. No foolin', the berries are the size of the end of my thumb. Nothing beats sun-warmed blueberries!

Like Clockwork

Day 246: Of all works of modern fiction, it is the opinion of Your Humble Narrator that Anthony Burgess' "A Clockwork Orange" is one of the most significant of the era. The film does not serve the book well, trivializing a major premise (the definition of "justice") by simplifying the storyline, and capitalizing on the plebian audience's passion for violence which dictates much of what is shown on network television today. Most people will find the book a difficult read, if perhaps not on the same level as "Finnegan's Wake" but in the same manner; it introduces its own vocabulary, drawn for the most part from Russian. Watching the movie will provide some familiarity with the invented language, and will make the book easier to read. That said, the film is a powerful work despite the fact that the director (Stanley Kubrick) seems to have missed many of the author's major points, as you will discover if you have access to the bonus material, and as a bonus, you'll have visuals to associate.

As for Crow in character as little Alex, just let me say that you're never too starry to peet a chasha of the old moloko plus.

Sundews In Flower

Day 245: I had wondered if I'd missed the Sundews' blooming period by getting a late start on the kayaking season this spring, but I saw no evidence of flower stalks during my outings. Today, I found them largely in bud. However, a patrol of all their known hideouts turned up a couple which were fully open.

It's no easy task to take good photographs from a kayak rolling on the water. It's even harder to get a shot using a macro filter which requires you to be within a foot or so of your subject, as I was when capturing these images. At one point, I penned myself in after a log I had nudged out of the way closed off my exit route and locked the gate by becoming stuck on a submerged staub. Needless to say, maintaining a good center of gravity is always necessary when kayaking, but even moreso when you have one leg over the paddle, the paddle blade hooked over a log, and you have one hand on the log for stability and the other is crossed over your body, attempting to hold and trigger the camera. I'm sure you never thought of the occupation in this light, but I'm convinced naturalists should be on hazard pay.

Candystick, Allotropa Virgata

Day 244: Without a shadow of doubt, Candystick (Allotropa virgata) is one of the most unusual plants you will find in Pacific Northwestern forests. This mycoheterotrophic species resembles nothing quite so much as a stick of peppermint candy with its red and white stripes, and like many of Mount Rainier National Park's other mycoheterotrophs, it is appearing in abundance this year, and in places where this observer has not previously seen it. These specimens were photographed in the Longmire Stewardship Campground on June 13, 2015. Other clusters of a dozen or more spikes, some a foot tall or more, were noted within the space of approximately one acre.

Mrs. Rufous

Day 243: Although they're not swarming yet, the population of Rufous Hummingbirds in my yard makes it dangerous to stand within ten feet of the feeders. Hummer wars are often engaged, males vying with one another for possession of the ports or for a female's attentions, or females squabbling over who has right of prior domain. The defeated party almost always flies off at high speed, not necessarily watching for obstacles like a human on the sidewalk. I have come very close to taking a hummer in the face on multiple occasions, and it's not uncommon at all to have my hair ruffled by the passage of wings when an abrupt change of direction has been deemed necessary by the flier. The magnitude of inbound and outbound airborne traffic is increasing daily, indicating that I should probably think about moving one shepherd's hook to the other end of the garden as a secondary destination.

Penny Perspectives - Bog Candle

Day 242: Fairly rare in Mount Rainier National Park, Platanthera dilatata bears the enchanting common name of "Bog Candle" for the striking waxy whiteness of its flowers. It is also a member of the Orchid family, one of sixteen species which can be found in the Park. Although this particular specimen was less than a foot tall, it can grow to more than three feet in height, making it one of the tallest Orchids in our forests. Look for it in boggy areas and near seep-springs.

Nisqually Dancers

Day 241: Yesterday, it was my privilege to attend the dedication and opening of the designated Tribal Use Area in the Longmire Stewardship Campground at Mount Rainier National Park. A five-acre parcel of land flanked on one side by the Nisqually River was set aside for use by the Nisqually people, a contract which (among other things) allows them to gather traditional medicine plants like Pipsissewa (Chimaphila umbellata). Members of the Nisqually celebrated the occasion with dance and song, and hosted a salmon bake as well as presenting gifts to each Park Service attendee. Establishment of the Tribal Use Area was a process many years in the making. I am proud to say that I was a part of this historic event.

An Unexpected Turn

Day 240: New to my hummingbird garden this year is Hardy Fuchsia "Erecta," and already it has delivered a surprising turn-up...literally. I had thought the name referred to erect stems as opposed to trailing, but in fact it comes from the upright orientation of the blossoms! Every one sticks up like a candle ensconced in an ornate cup of petals, the stigma a flaming wick pointed at the sky. It is as if the plant is saying to the hummingbirds, "Come drink with me." Na zdorovie, my little Rufous friends. This bud's for you.

Audrey Glorious

Day 239: Two out of three ain't bad! Audrey's third bud has not increased from pea-size as her two others have prospered, now as fully open as they will ever appear. Their peculiar structure is visible in this photo: an umbrella-shaped style with stigmata concealed in the interior of the dome. Insects enter Sarracenia's "inner sanctum" at the bases of the innermost petals, and only the cleverest pollinators escape her trap. Audrey's primary line of defense is not her blossom, however. Enzymes within the bases of her "pitcher" foliage dispatch and digest any insect which happens to enter the tube-like leaves. When I trimmed back her winter-killed tips this spring, I found each pitcher filled to a depth of several inches with the indigestible husks of beetles, flies and even spiders. No fertilizer for this gal! She can take care of herself.

Pinesap, Monotropa Hypopitys

Day 238: If you put forth the hypothesis that this is hypopitys, you'd be right, but you'd probably never get your tongue unwound. For once, you're safer if you call it by its common name, Pinesap, another of those marvelous mycoheterotrophs and fairly common in Mount Rainier National Park. Its cousin Indian Pipe (Monotropa uniflora) is white, and occurs far less frequently in our forests. Formerly referred to as "saprophytes" (a misnomer you will still see in field guides), the Monotropas are in fact one half of a symbiotic relationship with a fungus. This specimen was observed along Westside Road along with an abundance of other mycoheterotrophic species, and in that respect, I do have a hypothesis: that our mild winter has allowed the mycorrhizae associated with these curious plants to proliferate. That's why we're seeing so many of them this summer.

Xanthoria Polycarpa, Sunburst Lichen

Day 237: Two very similar species of Xanthoria occur on the west coast of North America. Xanthoria parietina is primarily a coastal species while Xanthoria polycarpa (shown) can be found further inland. The two species can be quite difficult to differentiate when observed in the transition zone.

It is interesting to note that X. parietina is believed to have been introduced from Australia. X. polycarpa is native, and its range extends from central Alaska southward. The taxonomy is derived from the Latin "xanthus," meaning "yellow" and "polycarpus," "many-fruited" (referring to the abundant apothecial disks).

Hey, I Know That Plant!

Day 236: "Hey, I know that plant!" I am willing to bet that at least 99% of my readers will recognize this common species. Chances are, you even played with it as a kid, bending the stem in a circle, folding the end down behind the head, and then sliding the bent stem forward until the tip popped off and launched toward the back of a friend's head. We called them "shooters," and my aim was deadly. They grew along the roadsides, in cracks in sidewalks and driveways, and around the edge of the school playground where they were readily accessible during recess. Yeah, those! You remember, don't you?

Okay, let's see a show of hands. Who knows what they're really called? Yep, I thought I'd stump you!

Plantago lanceolata, aka Buckhorn, English Plantain or half a dozen other common names is as familiar to us as dandelions and clover, yet most people will not be able to supply even one correct answer when quizzed. Why? I'm afraid I have no answer to that question, but we can remedy it easily enough. The next time you see Buckhorn in this phase, pick a handful of "shooters" and pop a few of your friends. In the split second that their minds revert to the days and games of childhood, shout, "BUCKHORN! Gotcha!" Kids learn most quickly when it's fun.

Cone Plant (Gnome Plant), Hemitomes Congestum

Day 235: Rare in Mount Rainier National Park and observed by your narrator only two or three times previously, Hemitomes congestum (Gnome Plant or Cone Plant) was discovered by me growing in two widely separated locations on June 4, 2015. This further fuels my theory that the mild winter has allowed the mycorrhizal components required by these highly specialized species to proliferate. I have also noted several large colonies of Indian Pipe (Monotropa uniflora) in the same area where this photo was taken, and indeed, monitoring the Indian Pipe's development was what drew me back to the site on this occasion. Additionally in the same area and others, the Spotted Coralroot (Corallorhiza maculata) has grown to an exceptional size. It isn't just a good year for mycoheterotrophs. It's an amazing one!

Penny Perspectives - Slender Bog Orchid

Day 234: Although many of the Park's Orchidaceae lack chlorophyll, such is not the case for Platanthera stricta, Slender Bog Orchid. In fact, even its flowers are green (occasionally tinged with red or purple), a factor which makes it difficult to observe against a background of leaves and mosses. It can be found in bogs and along streams where the overstory provides shade and cooler temperatures on warm afternoons. The back of the flower presents a sac-like, inflated spur which is almost as long as the lower "tongue." It is not uncommon in the Park, but will require a "Penny Perspective" to spot. This specimen was photographed at Longmire.

Pale Male

Day 233: Somebody bleached one of my Goldfinches! I'm kidding, of course, but although there is some degree of variation as these birds pass from drab winter colours to their yellow summer finery, I have never seen one quite as white as this guy.

Scholars will disagree on whether this variation should be referred to as "partially leucistic" or "dilute." David Allen Sibley says, "The term leucistic has a confused history. In the introductions of the Sibley Guides I said the term leucistic is synonymous with dilute plumage. That usage was fairly common among birders at the time, and I was unaware that it contradicted several scholarly publications (e.g. Buckley 1982, van Grouw 2006) which define leucistic as the total lack of melanin from some or all feathers (what I called partial albino in the guides). It does make sense to distinguish birds that are unable to deposit melanin (my partial albino, their leucistic) from birds that are able to deposit melanin but only in low concentrations (my leucistic, their dilute)...I’ve used the term leucistic (not partial albino) for birds which cannot deposit melanin, which helps to distinguish these birds from the narrowly-defined true albino, and allows use of the term 'partial albino' as a general category for any bird showing any form of reduced melanin."

If you find this confusing, don't fret. It is a good example of how plastic the sciences are. While good scientists like Sibley try to stay abreast of research, it sometimes gallops ahead so rapidly that it's hard to keep up. For now, it seems safer to refer to my washed-out Goldfinch as a "pale male."

Penny Perspectives - Inside-Out Flower

Day 232: As lovely as an Avalanche Lily in its own tiny right, aptly named Inside-Out Flower (Vancouveria hexandra) is actually a member of the Barberry family, cousin to the more familiar Vanilla-leaf but not seen as frequently in the Park. When the flower is fully open as shown in this Penny Perspective, its six petals reflex (turn backward) from its tightly clustered stamens. It is easier to spot if you look for the leaves which occur in threes, giving the lie to the old phrase, "Leaves of three, beware of me." A lowland plant, you are most likely to find it just inside the Nisqually Entrance.

Annual Guests

Day 231: My favourite summer tenants have arrived! My feeders are under siege by dozens of Evening Grosbeaks, the air alive with the sound of their "CHURP!" calls and the flutter of wings. Alongside them, Pine Siskins and Goldfinches have discovered the bottomless supply of black-oil sunflower seed (if only they knew!), and no one minds if the occasional Black-Headed Grosbeak stops in for a snack. The only arguments are among themselves for the most part: "I was here first! Go find your own spot!" and a Goldfinch trying to squeeze in between is usually ignored. Occasionally, there are some hard words directed toward the hapless Steller's Jay who mistakenly assumes that his year-'round renter's agreement permits the best seating at the table, but generally, everyone gets along just fine.