Little Gold Crabapples

Day 84: Not far from one of the places I park when hiking in the Cowlitz Wildlife area near Mossyrock Dam, I noticed branches overhanging the road, heavily laden with some kind of yellow fruit. Curiosity got the better of me, so I pulled over and got out to take pictures, thinking I'd try to identify the tree when I got home. As soon as I zoomed in, I said, "Crabapples! Little gold crabapples!" and then confirmed it by picking up a mushy one from where it had fallen to the ground. The ones out of reach may still have been firm. I had no way to find out, but I'm thinking that next fall when they're in their prime, I might come back with a long-armed grabber to harvest enough of them to make pickled crabapples. These are just bite-sized!

Written By A Lichen

Day 107: What do you suppose has inspired Graphis scripta to leave its unique graffiti on the alder trees along my favourite trail in the Cowlitz Wildlife Area near Mossyrock Dam? Truly the Banksy of the lichen population, these elegant, raised markings are in fact the reproductive structures of the crustose species. They are called lirellae, and if you look closely, you will see that they are split longitudinally, as if scripta's pencil held two adjacent leads. The thallus (body) of the lichen is a thin, greyish-white crust which frequently coats the bark of Red Alder (Alnus rubra) to the extent that the natural colour which gives the tree its name is no longer visible. But science aside, what is scripta writing about? What is it illustrating? I see a little chick just below and slightly left of center, as well as the initial E canted in italics near the lower left edge. You could get lost trying to decipher scripta's code!

Mossyrock Dam From Dunn Cemetery

Day 78: I'm of two minds about geocaching, and largely, the side of me which disapproves of "licensed littering" wins out. I no longer place caches and pulled all of my old ones, not wanting to leave a legacy of metal and plastic containers in the woods. However, I do still enjoy the search, although I no longer feel compelled to find every single one within any given radius of my home. There are a few nearby which I know I'll never get, simply because I have too much respect for my car to take it on logging roads. These days, I usually wait until more than one new cache pops up in an area before I'll make a foray. Such was the case yesterday when I went out to find three. One of them took me to a spot I didn't know existed: Dunn Cemetery, a small county cemetery overlooking Riffe Lake from west of Mossyrock Dam. Below the dam, the Cowlitz River continues its meander toward an eventual junction with the mighty Columbia, miles below yet another reservoir (Mayfield Lake) at Mayfield. Hydro power is produced by both dams as well as another further upstream at Lake Scanewa. "Dammed if you do, dammed if you don't" might well be the lament of the salmon which used to have a strong native run in these waters. Nowadays, farmed fish are the rule.

Cardamine Nuttallii, Bittercress

Day 147: Poor little Cardamine! Every year when I find it, I say to myself, "Uh-oh, I've forgotten what that is again." I then proceed to go through the alphabet mentally, "A, B, C...okay, it has a C in it..." but I don't pick up the cue until I get to "N...it has an N...Na, Ne, Ni, No, Nu...Nub, Nuc, Nud..." until at last I come to "Nut! Nuttallii! Cardamine nuttallii!" I retrieve other "lost words" in similar fashion with great success, although why I don't get it when I say "Ca..." is a mystery.

This photo was also taken during the Great Skunk Cabbage Expedition, although in a different location and before the rain began in earnest. I got a little muddy on a short hike through the Cowlitz Wildlife lands near Mossyrock Dam, but in addition to the Cardamine, I found the most lavish example of Graphis scripta hieroglyphics I've encountered to date, but that's for my next post. Stay tuned for tomorrow's episode of "Life In Lichenopolis."

Parked

Day 37: "Honey, do you remember where we parked the car?" I've had days when I wondered if this would be the fate of mine and have spent ten minutes wandering around a crowded parking lot looking for the kayak rack which I eventually remember I removed last week. My spatial memory fails me in the city, lamp posts and buildings not registering in my mind with any distinction. However, I remember clearly where this ancient vehicle was abandoned in the woods, just past the open grove of maples where the trail takes a 90-degree turn and abruptly becomes boot-sucking mud. How it got there is open to conjecture. The land on which it sits is administered by Cowlitz Wildlife now, but it may have been home to workers employed in building Mossyrock Dam at some point. Maybe when the project was completed, the owner left it behind, its wood-spoked wheels in too poor condition to take on the road. That's one theory, anyway. Any identifying insignias have been removed, but I suspect it is a Ford. Wasn't everything a Ford in those days (whatever "days" those might have been)? I wish it could tell me its story. I'm sure it must have seen some adventures, poor old thing.