Longmire In Winter

Day 61: There was no heat in our office when Kevin and I got to work this morning. Other offices in the Administration Building were warm and toasty, but ours was uncomfortably cold and stayed that way until lunchtime. I decided it was better to freeze outside than inside, and went for a walk around the Trail of the Shadows. This view of Eagle Peak across Longmire Meadow is one of my favourites. Tiny Travertine Mound hotspring (snow-free area, lower right) burbles and bubbles even in the coldest temperatures.

The blue sky was a momentary novelty. Even as I wound my way around the three-quarter mile trail, pale grey snow-clouds were creeping up from the west. Still, slender rays of sun touched laden branches and caused them to release their burdens precipitously, and at least once, I found myself enveloped in the cold pins-and-needles of spindrift, driven on icy gusts generated in its fall. Thus baptised, I returned to the office with snow-matted pantlegs and a silvery "powdered-sugar" dusting over my remaining person, grateful that the radiator had repented of its uncooperative nature.

Ctenucha Rubroscapus/Multifaria Complex

Day 279: A few days ago, I was out in the swamp with our Park Plant Ecologist searching for examples of a rare plant in the chest-high "grass," and was pulled up short by this handsome insect hiding deep in the vegetation. "Who you?" I said, and then, "Arnie? You know anything about bugs?" A negative from my companion didn't deter me from taking photos, and when I got home, I submitted one to BugGuide.net, trusting to their entomologists to provide me with an answer. In due time, it was identified as a Ctenucha ("ten-OO-cha"), with the reservation that it is one of several species in the rubroscapus/multifaria complex. The generic common name for these critters is Red-Shouldered Ctenucha, a type of Tiger Moth found only on the West Coast.

Good And Evil

Day 270: In close-up, it's easy to see that these two plants are not the same species, but from a distance of six feet, you might simply think one was a colour variation of the other or a fading specimen. The similarity of the two allowed an invader to go unnoticed for a number of years until it had spread over an area encompassing approximately 600 square feet of Longmire Meadow. It was only through the curiosity of a Park colleague that its true nature came to light. Once we determined that it was not our native Self-heal (Prunella vulgaris ssp. lanceolata, left) and was in fact Carpet Bugle (Ajuga reptans, right), we began working on a plan to eradicate it.

Over the next ten days or so, I pulled together a team of volunteers who assaulted it in a manner not unlike the grid-by-grid excavation system used in archaeological digs, and on Wednesday when they left the site, about 75% of the weed was gone. Yesterday, Plant Ecologist Arnie Peterson took a break from his office duties to help me clear the remainder. A total of 50 man-hours went into the project, contributed by eleven "deveg" team members. Nine full-sized trash-can liner bags filled with Ajuga were taken away from the site.

Ajuga propagates both by seed and by stolon. The site will have to be monitored closely for the next several years to be sure that this invasive species doesn't regenerate and get a toe-hold again.

Beneath The Ramparts

Day 22: It felt good to get back to work today after such a long hiatus, good to see that for all the posturing and foolishness of recent weeks, some stability remains in the Universe. Rampart Ridge hadn't tumbled down. The grasses in Longmire Meadow continued to gossip among themselves in soft whispers. The shadows took the pools and hot springs in their arms and sang to them as gently as they had ever done. Beyond the evergreens, above the ridges and folds of land, the Mountain dominated Earth and sky. Everything was just as I'd left it, if perhaps a little more golden around the edges. Three weeks is a long time to go without touching base with your oldest friends.