Nostalgia Garden

Day 200: As I walk around my yard, I can't help but notice how strongly my choice of plants has been influenced by what was in my grandmother's garden. When I began selecting perennials for the beds, my "must-have" flowers were almost exclusively those I had seen in cultivation before I had attained the ripe old age of five. I recall clearly sitting on her back porch step, enveloped in a thick perfume of Lily-of-the-Valley, and braiding coronets of the stiff, arching stems of Bridal Wreath Spiraea. No garden of her era was complete without Bachelor's Buttons and Columbine, nor without single Hollyhocks growing against a sunny back wall. Ironically, it was my grandfather who was the gardener; my grandmother simply reaped the rewards, and although the garden dwindled after Grandpa's death, my association with sweet-smelling, beautiful flowers is firmly tied to her.

Asarum Caudatum, Wild Ginger

Day 198: What began as two friends planning an outing to witness Corallorhiza trifida at a single location developed into a field trip for four and some serious botanizing. Maggie Webster and I had scheduled a short excursion for the morning, but when Yonit and Leon Yogev called to say they were in the area, I suggested that they might like to join us for what could well be a once-in-a-decade observation of the rare Corallorhiza. The trip was rather loosely organized, and Yonit and Leon eventually tracked Maggie and me down at a secondary spot, one at which I had found the species last year but not yet in 2016. By the time they arrived, Maggie and I had located five more specimens. To her delight, Yonit found a sixth we had overlooked. Meanwhile, Leon was engaged in learning about lower-forest trees and how to differentiate spruce from fir by examining the shape and texture of the needles.

The Yogevs left us at that point, and Maggie and I continued up the road (partly on foot) to investigate a report of a washout, clambering through the section of collapsed roadbed and going a little further on. At our turnaround point, we discovered Wild Ginger in bloom. It is one of my favourite wildflowers. The unusual flowers of this low-growing plant are concealed beneath its heart-shaped leaves. Each blossom bears three long "tails," as described in its scientific name, Asarum caudatum.

On the return hike, I was pleased to discover several nice colonies of Pilophorus acicularis (Devil's Matchstick Lichen) near the washout. This find was perhaps the "youngest" incidence of P. acicularis I have spotted to date, colonization having occurred less than 20 years from the time the rock was exposed.

Sphyrapicus Ruber, Red-Breasted Sapsucker

Day 198: Until recently, I hadn't paid much attention to how many different bird species were coming to my feeders and yard. Today added two more: Red-Breasted Sapsuckers (a pair) and the first English Sparrow I've seen locally. The Sapsuckers are seasonal, and for all that I love them dearly, I wish they would stop pecking at the Mountain Ash and red Dogwood trees. I've wrapped the trunks loosely in chicken wire, but Sapsucker is not to be foiled so easily. They simply move up the tree, or sometimes even work their way in under the wire. Interestingly enough, studies have shown that in particular, Rufous Hummingbirds take advantage of the sap oozing from Sapsuckers' drill-holes as a source of food. Although I have not personally witnessed this, it may be that I've missed the behaviour. I'll have to pay closer attention to the hummers.

A Field Trip To Trifida

Day 197: Today, I had the delightful experience of taking the Park's Plant Ecologist Arnie Peterson on a field trip to see Corallorhiza trifida. After visiting the first site, we decided to hike the second trail despite impending rain. I had a little trouble relocating the specimen, but after backtracking fifty yards or so, I spotted it. At both sites, I had a little fun with Arnie, stationing him within a few feet of the plant and challenging him to find it. At the second site, I had to give a few hints: "About eight feet away...one o'clock from the maculata..." before he saw it. On the way back down, I stopped abruptly and turned to face him. "We're blind as a couple of bats," I said. Met with a blank look, I pointed. Two feet from the trail was a cluster of seven with one single off to the side. We'd walked right past them! It was a huge thrill for both of us.

We made another stop before returning to Longmire, and were equally baffled by a composite which had been brought to my attention by a colleague. The flowers were closed, but her photos had given enough detail to rule out several things, but even the expert was stumped. I had to chuckle when Arnie said, "I'm going to have look at all my books with pretty pictures of plants for that one."

My last surprise of the day was quickly snatched and pocketed with no restrictions on its harvest. Two nice morels followed me home to be turned into cream of morel soup. Mmmmmmm, yummy!

Zonotrichia Atricapilla, Golden-Crowned Sparrow

Day 196: Golden-Crowned Sparrow (Zonotrichia atricapilla) prefers to dine on the ground. At my house, that means joining their White-Crowned cousins as part of the clean-up crew, gathering seed the other birds have dropped at the foot of the feeder trays. There's still plenty they miss, as evidenced by the number of sunflower sprouts currently coming up, but they do a good job on the smaller seeds. They also forage for bugs in the bark beds and in the grass, good little "gardener's helpers." Although the White-Crowned Sparrows always come to visit in the spring and summer, Golden-Crowned's tenancy is inconsistent and occasionally misses a year. This year, however, I have a greater number than usual, almost equal to the population of White-Crowned.

Pine Siskin, Carduelis Pinus

Day 195: I did a rough census of birds at my feeders yesterday and came up with a total of 17 species. Today, we'll make that 18. As soon as I hung up the thistle-seed feeder, the Pine Siskins came rushing to the table. Given that they are reported to be in decline in most other areas where they occur, I am overjoyed to have them here even if it does mean I'll never see a Chickadee in my yard. The two species are known to avoid proximity, so occasionally, I do see Chickadees in the brush across the road. That said, the Siskins are equally friendly toward humans, and will sometimes sit in my hand for a feed.

If you're curious with respect to those seventeen species yesterday, the list included Ravens, Crows, Steller's Jays, Band-Tailed Pigeons (unwelcome), Eurasian Collared-Doves (also unwelcome), Starlings (even more unwelcome), Robins (boring), Brown-Headed Cowbirds, Red-Winged Blackbirds, Purple Finches, Goldfinches, Golden-Crowned Sparrows, White-Crowned Sparrows, Dark-Eyed Juncos, Rufous Hummingbirds, Spotted Towhees and of course Porch Parrots (i.e., Evening Grosbeaks). I usually have Song Sparrows as well. As I remarked to friends, "This is why my birdseed bill is bigger than my grocery bill."

Penny Perspectives - Listera Cordata, Heartleaf Twayblade

Day 194: Another little green thing found while belly-crawling through the woods...

A member of the Orchid family, Heartleaf Twayblade (Listera cordata) is somewhat uncommon, and not easy to spot due to its green color and diminutive size. A pair of heart-shaped leaves appear at the midpoint of the stem, topped by a spike bearing up to15 individual blossoms. Seen in a Penny Perspective, the flowers reveal the logic behind its common name. The lower petal is strongly divided, forming two blade-shaped lobes, "tway" reflecting an archaic form of the word "two." This elegant yet inconspicuous dainty is most likely to be found in damp, shady areas, in bogs or beside streams.

Penny Perspectives - Corallorhiza Trifida, Northern Coralroot

Day 193: One of the most rare species of Coralroot to be found in Mount Rainier National Park, Corallorhiza trifida is elusive not only for its scarcity, but for its size and colour. As you can see in this Penny Perspective, its greenish flowers are quite tiny, making it easy to miss in the shady locations it prefers. It appears in the spring, generally before the more common Coralroots. The Corallorhizas are partial mycoheterotrophs, i.e., they only exist where certain fungi are present in the soil. In years when those fungi are abundant, the plants emerge in greater numbers.

Calypso In White

Day 192: Happy Earth Day! No day goes by that I do not marvel at the Earth's wonders. Admittedly, an inordinate amount of that marvelling is conducted flat on the forest floor, heedless of mud and dirt whether I'm in uniform or not. Consequently, I frequently return to my desk after lunch with fir needles in my hair, bits of moss clinging to my elbows, pantlegs wet to the knees, and exultant over my latest find. Yesterday's gem was a white Calypso Orchid, discovered in the storm-ravaged Longmire Campground. It had been spared by the heavy equipment brought in to remove toppled trees and massive root wads, though what its future might be is open to conjecture. These delicate orchids like shady spots, and with almost 70 trees gone, the campground is a much sunnier site.

It was determined that the storm which caused the damage was a microburst, a localized pocket of high wind lasting only a few minutes. If you will, think of it as a sneeze on Mother Nature's part, and without the benefit of a hankie. The force exerted by her "achoo" on standing trees would be comparable to an unshielded human sneeze upon a desktop littered with confetti, over and done before the effects had time to settle. A human sneeze is difficult to suppress, but Ma Nature doesn't try. Nor do we when we're not out in polite company.

While I am thankful that she turned her head and spared the majority of the Calypsos, I cannot fault Ma for clearing her sinuses. After all, downbursts are as natural as wildflowers, and tree-fall is part of the process of succession in a healthy forest.

Footnote: white Calypsos are not a separate sub-species of Calypso bulbosa. Although far less common than the familiar magenta form, they are simply a colour variation.

Wisteria

Day 190: Unseasonally warm weather (read, "temperatures in the upper 80s") has brought several plants in my yard into early bloom, notably the red dogwood and wisteria. The latter was barely showing buds a week ago; today, a purple cascade tumbles down the east corner of my carport. In past years, this untidy, rampant vine has been a sporadic producer, generally showing less than a dozen clusters before its leaves emerge and dominate the display. I've pruned, and I've not pruned, learning in the process that the plant has a mind of its own. No measure on my part seems to make a difference to its behaviour, so other than taming it to prevent its invading the rafters, I'll allow it to have its run.

Lilac Time

Day 190: With almost all sunlight blocked by an enormous branch of the big Doug fir at the end of my carport, my lilac had gone leggy and seldom produced more than a few weak blooms. I'd read in a gardening book that lilacs could be brought back to their former vigour by drastic pruning, but the article also counselled patience, saying that it would take at least four years for a plant to "bush out" again. I enlisted a neighbour's help to shorten the fir branch, and then with some trepidation, hacked the lilac back to a two-foot high stump. That was about ten years ago, and for at least the first two years, I considered digging it out and starting over in a new location. I resisted the temptation, and at last my patience has been rewarded. The lilac has thirteen lovely lavender flower clusters this year. That said, I will never prune it again!

Cladonia Ecmocyna

Day 189: Plants vs. Zombies, and I'm not sure who won. While I was exploring the back reaches of Longmire Campground a few days ago, I stumbled across a number of small but well-developed colonies of this unusual Cladonia (C. ecmocyna). Its slender, pointed podetia sometimes rise as much as three or four inches above the carpet of moss, giving the impression of pale worms emerging from the forest floor. A subspecies often forms narrow cups at its tips, and may exhibit brown apothecia on the rims.

Hummingbird Food

Day 188: Red-Flowering Currant (Ribes sanguineum) is native to Washington, and grows as a sprangly shrub, eventually producing a crop of tasteless, insipid black berries with nothing to recommend them to humans. However, its flowers have an irresistible appeal to hummingbirds, and of course given that I am basing my landscaping/gardening around providing habitat and food for birds and pollinators, I simply had to have a currant somewhere in my yard. But where to get one without having to pay through the nose for a nursery-grown plant?

There is a verb in popular use among my friends, "to pip," i.e., sneak cuttings, snitch rooted specimens (never the entire plant, though!), or to otherwise "liberate" a specimen for the garden. The origins of "pipping" lie in another gardening friend's nickname. She's notorious for her ability to pocket slips from nursery stock, and has the skills to propagate almost anything she nicks. I'm not quite as good, although I've lifted a few cuttings from parking lots and such, so I've been watching for unattended currants along the roadside. I wasn't having much luck. The only ones I was finding were too big to dig. I wanted a plant with just a few stems, something I could prune and train without the need for major surgery. Evenutally, I found not one but two "pippable" specimens of just the right size. I brought them both home to keep my hummingbirds entertained.

Osteospermum Spoon Flower

Day 187: Spoon Flower has become a "must have" annual for my garden. In size and growth habit, this unusual variation of Osteospermum is comparable to a Chrysanthemum, but the unique shape of the petals will make your guests do a double-take. The petals retain their rolled, spoon-tipped shape throughout the blooming cycle and although they benefit from dead-heading, it's not required to keep your plant in bloom. They come in several shades of pinkish purple to deep purple as well as white.

Cladina Rangiferina, Reindeer Lichen

Day 185: Cladina rangiferina is one of several species erroneously referred to as "reindeer moss." While it is consumed by caribou, reindeer and other ungulates as a major component in their diets, only the "reindeer" portion of its common name is accurate. "Moss" is incorrect. Cladina rangiferina is in fact a lichen. Like many members of its genus, it prefers a habitat of thin soil, often colonizing where nothing but moss and other lichens grow. It can be identified by branch tips which appear to be combed to one side. The branches frequently exhibit brown pycnidia on their tips. At Longmire Campground, it occurs in abundance in open areas.

Forest Stoplight

Day 185: Longmire Campground is a particularly lichen-rich area, trees festooned with Alectoria sarmentosa, branches entirely masked by lavish colonies of Lobaria oregana and Lobaria pulmonaria, a quilt of Stereocaulon and Cladina rangiferina laid over mossy rocks which were once riverbed. It has its share of vascular plants, but the overall impression a visitor receives is of an understory thick with moss and lichen. A few oddities crop up now and then, such as Hemitomes congestum, a mycoheterotroph also known as Gnome Plant, implying that the mycorrhizal elements here contribute to a diverse and complex micro-ecology.

Having somewhat neglected the more common lichens of the area, I went exploring for textbook specimens to photograph for my records. Into the forest a few hundred yards, I was wading through mounds of Cladina and Stereocaulon when a brilliant red "stoplight" pulled me to a halt. It was perhaps the most luxurious colony of Cladonia bellidiflora I have ever found, more unusual because it appeared to be confined entirely to one moss-covered boulder not much larger than a cantaloupe. A few other scattered specimens were found as well, at most three or four in a group, none so lavish as those found on this one rock. "Micro-ecology," indeed! Why in this spot and no other? I wish they would explain themselves!

Omphalina Umbellifera, A Lichen

Day 184: Despite its appearance, Omphalina umbellifera is technically not a mushroom. It is a lichen, one of only three lichen genera in the US known to have a basidiomycete as the fungal partner (as opposed to an ascomycete). What this means in layman's terms is that these lichens reproduce via different types of cells (asci versus basidia). It also means that poor little Omphalina is often disregarded by lichenologists when in fact it probably deserves closer study than many of its ascomycete cousins. Look for Omphalina on well-decayed ends of downed trees and have a little fun with your hiking friends when you explain that it's not a mushroom.

Best Rock Ever!

Day 183: My lunchtime walk today yielded up the Best Rock Ever! It holds BOTH species of Pilophorus side-by-side (clavatus on the left, acicularis on the right), and to further add to its merits, it's on the trail on which I'll be conducting a lichen walk during Bio-Blitz.

My Bio-Blitz walk will cover about a dozen lichen genera, and then our volunteers will be sent out on their own, cameras in hand, to photograph as many lichen species as they can find, with an eye to publishing them on iNaturalist. However, as a secondary goal, they will be specifically documenting Pilophorus in the hopes of getting a better picture of the time-frame in which this pioneer lichen colonizes "freshly exposed" rock surfaces. In my personal experience with P. acicularis, "freshly exposed" may range from 20-60 years.

In my original plan, I would have been taking people to two sites approximately a mile apart in order to view both species. The discovery of the Best Rock Ever just made my job enormously easier!

Diggin' And Plantin'

Day 182: I think I have the gardening bug worse this year than ever before. I've laid in two new barked beds, adding junipers, heather, ferns, this lovely Bleeding-Heart (Dicentra), bog rosemary and Lithodora. In the established beds, I've put in a new lavender, an evergreen azalea, tulips and ranunculus (both free), and moved the Crocosmia to a location where it can spread to its heart's content. An old vinca minor was moved and another added along the fenceline, augmented with a small cypress. I added three new containers, one of which received a third blueberry bush, with the other two destined for tomato or other vegetable culture. On Monday, I put in a vining hydrangea, a new variety of hardy fuchsia and a white-flowered Akebia. Today's achievement was extracting a deeply-rooted Euonymus to make room for a purple-flowered Akebia which I'll pick up on Friday.

You'll notice that all of these plants are perennials. I'm saving myself work by working hard now so I can sit back and enjoy the fruits of my labours later (literally in a couple of cases). This is not to say that I won't be adding some annuals. In fact, I will broadcast cosmos seed and let the plants fill in the blanks. I'll undoubtedly buy a "Spoon Flower" Osteospermum as soon as they become available, but otherwise, I'm tired of the hassle of seed-starting and having every square foot of window space filled with flats and pots.

Most of the flowering plants have been picked in consideration of birds and pollinators. The non-flowering species were selected for their ability to cover large areas of grass in the shortest time. It may not be the most elegant landscaping job, but it serves my purposes. Let 'em grow!

Hey, You Robins!

Day 181: It's not spring without Trilliums. Also known as Wake-Robin (a name I find enchanting), this denizen of the shady forest has declined radically from the abundance it once enjoyed, largely because it has been over-harvested by people seeking to transplant it to their home gardens. It does not take well to being disturbed, and seldom survives the transfer. That said, I've noticed at least one commercially-grown variety being offered in nurseries this year, presumably sturdier stock than those growing wild. This is not to say that you cannot still find groves where no robin could possibly be caught napping, but enjoy Trilliums where they stand, regardless of their numbers.

Snow Queens, Synthyris Reniformis

Day 180: A wildflower of the low-elevation forest, Synthyris reniformis (Snow Queens) emerges in early to mid-Spring. Less than six inches tall, this plant's scalloped basal leaves and hairy stems are distinctive, as are its pale lavender flowers, each of which bears two purple-tipped stamens. In Pack Forest, it can be found growing in the disturbed soil at the edges of roads and trails.

Pack Forest Calypso

Day 179: After digging a 3' x 6' x 2' hole in my yard into which I inserted two enormous pots destined to hold tomato plants, you'd have thought I'd be too tired to do much else. The previous night when I'd gone to bed, I'd been thinking about devoting the day to Mourning Cloak hunting along "Butterfly Alley" in Pack Forest, but upon arising, gardening seemed the better option. Two hours later, hole dug and pots planted, I remembered I hadn't put out the mail. En route to the mailbox, a Comma (Green or Satyr, I couldn't tell) flew through my field of vision, begging me to follow. I took the hint, returned to the house and packed up for a five-mile walk even while questioning the prudence of the plan.

Pack Forest was busier than I've ever seen it, and everyone seemed to be headed for the Falls Trail, trying to escape the too-warm temperatures. Not me. Butterfly Alley is on the north portion of the 1000 Road. The 1000 intersects with the 2000 at Kirkland Pass, and the southern 1000 returns to the parking area. The two roads can be combined as a figure-8 loop hike, or the 1000 can be done as a loop all by itself. I figured if I was going up Butterfly Alley, I'd just continue over the top and back out the other way. I had great confidence in finding photo-worthy butterflies, but as it turned out, I saw only a couple of Cabbage Whites and a few small, nondescript moths of the sort which enjoy Coltsfoot flowers.

A botanist friend had written to me the day before to say that she had found Calypso Orchids at the site of the old Sunshine Point Campground at Mount Rainier. I have been monitoring the Longmire site, and knew that leaves were only just beginning to show. However, Pack Forest has a few Calypsos; in fact, one patch is only about half a mile beyond Kirkland Pass on the 2000 Rd. With the camera empty of butterflies, I decided to go Calypso hunting instead. Success lies in being able to change your plan on a moment's notice.

National Frog Month

Day 178: It might be best if I don't mention what type of frog I believe this is. I wanted a "poster child" for National Frog Month, and I suppose my model is appropriate in a way since the subject species is out-competing our native frogs everywhere it's found. Still, there's something charming about froggy faces smiling up at you from amid the weeds even when you know that every single one of them is the farthest thing from an enchanted prince as you could ever imagine.

Placopsis Gelida, Bullseye!

Day 177: Many crustose lichens are easy to overlook. At a glance, they might appear to be an inclusion in a rock face or a mineral deposit on the surface. For example, this specimen of Placopsis gelida (a "bullseye" lichen, ref. Vitt et al) could have been mistaken for a discoloured bit of quartz in a darker matrix when seen from a distance. Up close, the lichen reveals its complex form, brown cephalodia (wart-like structures) dotting the pale green thallus and darker lobes extending like fingers along its margins. Crustose lichens adhere tightly to their substrate material; it would be difficult to lift one of those tiny projections even with a pocket knife.

Stereocaulon Paschale

Day 176: Stereocaulon paschale is one of the "foam" lichens, and a walk through any area where it occurs will serve to justify the common name. It forms large patches which from a distance appear rather like the tidal froth found on ocean beaches. On closer examination, the "foam" resolves into tiny granular outgrowths resembling miniature cauliflower florets sprouting from pinkish stalks. It is often found in areas of old riverbed where stones and boulders have been overgrown with a thin layer of moss, its distinctive dusty blue-grey hue contrasting with brighter greens. Some older field guides refer to it as a subspecies of Stereocaulon tomentosum.

Bog Rosemary

Day 175: Yeah, yeah...I know it's pink, but once those obnoxiously coloured flowers fall off, Bog Rosemary's beautiful silvery grey-green foliage will be a delightful addition to my garden. Known also as Andromeda, Bog Rosemary is not related to the spice. In fact, it contains toxins which may cause a variety of unpleasant reactions if ingested. As the name implies, this mounding ground-cover prefers moist soil, and was therefore a good choice for the buttercup-infested north side of my carport.

Junco Invasion

Day 174: Dark-eyed Junco (aka Oregon Junco, Junco hyemalis) gets very little press because the species is so common in the Pacific Northwest. I have them here year-'round, but in the spring their numbers increase, especially right after I've weeded the flower beds. I think disturbing the soil must bring seeds to the surface. Yesterday I weeded. Today I have dozens of happy juncos scrabbling in the dirt, visiting the feeders, arguing over spilled seed. They are such cheerful little people that I feel badly for neglecting them in my posts.

Visiting The Kids

Day 173: At last we come to the story of the kayaking trip! It was my first excursion of the year, and of course that meant I had to pay the "kids" a visit. For the most part, they were just beginning to unfurl, but a few nice rosettes were apparent, although still small. I didn't check the second site; the raft is now in shade for most of the day, slowing the plants' development. I covered six miles of shoreline, trolling as I paddled, but the fish were entirely uncooperative. I didn't get a single bite.

Fashionably Geek Revised

Day 172: Surprisingly, a couple of people got caught briefly by my April Fools prank photo yesterday, including one who said that she was having a hard time figuring out what to say until she got to the punchline. Anyone who knows me should have spotted one deviation right off: instead of my customary buffalo-check flannel shirt, I was wearing a blouse. However, today I am pleased to present the REAL new glasses, truly fashionably geek according to my optician. I think they are better suited to the shape of my face than any others I've owned. The temples are lightly textured, but the front is plain. The change in correction has substantially improved my ability to read road signs, too.

Fashionably Geek

Day 171: It's been a little over five years since I had new glasses, and I decided I wanted to move away from rimless to something which looked a little more studious. My optician told me I was in luck. It seems that "geek" is now quite fashionable. She laid out a dozen pair of frames for me to try on, and I quickly narrowed it down to two choices. It's difficult to tell what you look like in a mirror when your vision is as poor as mine, but I finally selected these. I think I may have to do something different with my hair, though...maybe a buzz cut?

*****

And if you buy this self-portrait, you're an April Fool! The truth of the matter is that my new glasses haven't arrived yet. I spent the day out in my kayak.