Hardhack, Spiraea Douglasii

Day 283: Hardhack (Spiraea douglasii) is native to the Pacific Northwest and occurs from Alaska south into northern California and across western Canada. In other locations, it is sometimes considered invasive due to its ability to spread and choke out other vegetation. It is often found in open wetlands where it receives full sun. It does not tolerate shade. It may attain heights up to seven feet in optimum conditions. It may also be called Rose Spirea or Steeplebush. In the Pacific Northwest, it is often used in wetland restoration projects because its root system assists in stabilizing soil. It may hybridize with S. menziesii and/or S. betulifolia where those species occur. Hummingbirds and butterflies are drawn to the flowers as a source of nectar. Although the stems are quite woody, the foliage is browsed by deer.

Hippies

Day 13: We've been down this road before, but because you are still here reading my posts, I assume that you are at least to some degree intrigued by language and word origins, if perhaps not at quite the same level as I am. "Hip" has always fascinated me. The word evolved from a different root than "hip" in the sense we use it to describe our physical attributes or a particular type of roof construction. "Hip" as it relates to roses grew from Old English via Scandinavia as "heope,"the term for a bramble. On the other hand, our physical hips were subject to some "hype," Old English morphing through "hepe" and "hippe" to arrive at its present form. "Heopes" are rich in vitamin-C, and can be used to make tea or a delightfully fragrant jelly, but I would suggest gathering them before excessive moisture initiates the process of decay which, of course, liberates the harder seeds contained in the pulp and guarantees that hippies will endure forever. Or almost.

The Dotted Line, Ramalina Farinacea

Day 121: At first glance, it's easy to mistake Ramalina farinacea for an Evernia, however close examination will reveal the rather interesting set of features which distinguish it. First of all, both sides are the same colour. Evernia is paler on the reverse. Second, you may see small perforations in the branches, looking very much like they've been holed by beetles. If you confirm both of these characteristics, then it's time to finalize your commitment. If the soralia are marginal (at the edges of the branches), discrete (separated) and elliptical as shown in the inset, you've found the "dotted line" which gives this species its common name. Sign here, and you're done. A similar species, Ramalina subleptocarpha, has longer soralia which continue along the margins almost without interruption.

Busy Beavers

Day 120: You know what they say: "busy as a beaver," and the ones in Ohop Valley have been busy indeed. You might think that this would be cause for concern at the Nisqually Land Trust. After all, we've gone to some expense to plant trees here, but the fact of the matter is that this is what we were planning for in the long term: that the restoration of habitat would draw wildlife into this former agricultural area. Obviously, it's working. I first noticed a beaver dam upstream of this location two years ago while mapping out a potential nature walk. I'd been seeing evidence of beaver activity for several years, mostly in the form of sapling harvesting. Some larger trees had been gnawed but not toppled, but still nothing over three inches in diameter. While on patrol a few days ago, I counted half a dozen downed trees at least five inches in diameter. I have to admit I don't know a lot about beavers' habits, except that they use branches and small trunks to build their dams. Other than a means to keep their teeth from growing too long, why does a beaver take down a tree too large to drag home? Inquiring minds want to know.

No Nature Walk Today

Day 118: See those little orange flags? They mark one possible route for a nature walk in Ohop Valley, but maybe not today. I thought I'd run down to check my site-steward "beat" since Ohop is notorious for flooding. In fact, that was what farmers were trying to combat when they got the bright idea to straighten out its bends and curves back when settlers first settled in the valley. Much to their chagrin, it wound up having the opposite effect: by ditching the creek, they sped up its flow, and the water didn't have a chance to sink into the soil (which, it must be said, is very clayey here). Flooding increased, cattle got hoof rot from being pastured on boggy land, and the farmers finally just gave up. The Nisqually Land Trust acquired this particular piece of Ohop Valley in 2001. In 2009, they partnered with several other area conservation organizations and together, began a major project to "re-meander" the creek into something approximating its original channel. Roughly a mile and a half of new habitat was created in the process and today, although flooding occurs in times of heavy rainfall, Ohop Valley is a much better home for critters and plants. I'll be guiding a group through the valley some time this summer when I don't need to load them into canoes.

A Melanelia Among Usneas

Day 77: I am not sufficiently well-versed in distinguishing one Melanelia from another in the field to say positively that this is Melanelia fuliginosa (Shiny Camouflage Lichen), but it is either that or Melanelia/Melanelixia subaurifera. I lean toward M. fuliginosa because it was decidedly "shiny" compared to other species I have observed. In any event, it is one of only a few lichens which exhibit this particular brown colouration, and in either case, it may be tinged with orange or be somewhat closer to "Army green." It will be closely attached to its substrate, generally deciduous or coniferous tree bark, but also occasionally on acidic rock. Microscopic examination would reveal branched cylindrical isidia, but then I didn't bring a sample home. 'Sokay, I know where it lives.

Restoration

Day 75: The restoration work you see here along the margins of a small backwater of Ohop Creek may be recent, but it was thirty years ago, give or take a few weeks, that I worked on my first live-staking project in Ohop Valley. Today, I am a Site Steward for the area, making forays now and then to clean up litter (of which there seems to be a limitless and constantly replenishing supply), to check on the status of plants, to report wildlife and human activity, to monitor invasives and remove them when possible (obviously, the War Against Reed-Canary Grass is one which cannot be won by the hands of Man alone). Thirty years, and still the valley gives the appearance of a new planting. Yes, I can see changes from thirty years ago, but the real effects of restoration may take a century or more to make themselves visible to the inexperienced eye. I look at these young Red Osier Dogwoods and think, "That's Warbler habitat which wasn't there ten years ago." I see the clear water, and my mind runs to the Great Blue Heron who is doing his part to eliminate the invasive Bullfrogs. I see young willows and twinberry, their fruit and bark food sources for birds and mammals, and off over in the distance, I see taller Red Alders. "Those are my kids!" I might say to you proudly, if you were standing beside me. They're thirty years old now, and survived being thrust as bare twigs into wet soil by my own hands. I see my legacy to the Earth rising tall and green on the horizon, and I say to myself, "Well, I tried."

Overlooking Ohop Valley

Day 53: If you park at the Nisqually State Park trailhead and start to walk toward the river, you'll see another path shearing off to the right in about a hundred feet. If you follow it, you will come to property owned by the Nisqually Land Trust in about a mile. I participated in a frosty-cold winter planting there three or four years ago, and had not been back until today. I was dismayed to find that not a single one of our saplings had survived. I hadn't expected a high survival rate, not in the rocky, thin soil clinging to a previously clearcut hillside, but neither had I thought to find 100 % failure. It was a sorry testament to the long-lasting havoc logging operations can inflict. Having shed a few tears for the mother of us all, I returned to the main trail and explored it somewhat further before returning home, stepping over blackberry vines and brushing aside Scotch broom in what may develop into a jungle of invasives if not checked.

Oregon Ash Foliage And Samaras

Day 313: When Pacific Northwesterners hear the word "ash" used to indicate a native plant, the image which springs immediately to mind is of Sitka Mountain Ash (Sorbus sitchensis). The name is misleading. Sorbus is not an ash at all, despite the fact that its leaf arrangement resembles that of true ashes (Fraxinus). Sometimes called Rowan, Sorbus is a member of the Rosaceae family (Rose) and bears clusters of orange-red berries in the fall, much to the delight of migrating Cedar Waxwings and Grosbeaks. On the other hand, Oregon Ash is a true ash; Fraxinus in the Oleaceae is akin to olives and lilacs, and its fruit is a samara which contains a single seed. The papery wings of the samara allow it to be wind-carried to distances beyond the parent tree rather than falling to the ground directly beneath it as a nut would. When a mature ash grove forms, it can be very effective in shading out opportunistic and frequently undesirable understory plants such as Reed Canary Grass. For this reason, the Nisqually Land Trust chose it as one of the native species to be used in the restoration of Ohop Valley.

Xanthoria Polycarpa On My Beat

Day 311: Recently, I gave a talk to a group of Park volunteers which was primarily focused on lichen species. The first half was conducted indoors and a field trip through Longmire Campground was scheduled for the second half. The field-trip hour turned into two and a half as I conducted part of the group through a more extensive exploration as their enthusiasm gave me the opportunity to talk about one of my favourite subjects. With some adaptations, I will be using the same lecture material for a Nisqually Land Trust talk in a few weeks, but since the Pacific Northwest will soon be entering its autumn weather pattern (read, "rain"), I'm planning an indoor "field trip" for the attendees. To that end, I want to gather specimens of a dozen or so of our most common lichen genera to have available for "hands-on," and one species which I most wanted to demonstrate was Xanthoria polycarpa, so showy with its bright orange colour. That presented a small problem: the only place I knew where I could collect a sample without spending a lot of time driving was behind the gate to a closed community where a friend used to live (and no, I don't know any of her former neighbours). I was about to despair of finding it in a more accessible location when lo and behold, there it was, growing on an ancient Oregon Ash beside one of the waypoints for my Land Trust "Forest Succession" talk, right on my very own beat, and I'd never noticed it before. Maybe I'd been too focused on the Poison Hemlock nearby. Funny how a little thing like that can distract you.

Verbascum Blattaria, Moth Mullein

Day 304: Moth Mullein (Verbascum blattaria) is a non-native species and in some states (notably Colorado) is listed as an invasive. In my limited experience with it, it has not been difficult to eradicate and in fact, if growing in an area where taller grasses abound, it will "shade out" (die off from lack of light) before it becomes a problem. It was introduced to the North American continent from Eurasia and has been reported in every state with the exceptions of Minnesota and Wyoming. It is a biennial, flowering in the second year from seed. Quoting Wikipedia, "In a famous long-term experiment, Dr. William James Beal, then a professor of botany at Michigan Agriculture College, selected seeds of 21 different plant species (including V. blattaria) and placed seeds of each in 20 separate bottles filled with sand. The bottles, left uncorked, were buried mouth down (so as not to allow moisture to reach the seeds) in a sandy knoll in 1879. The purpose of this experiment was to determine how long the seeds could be buried dormant in the soil, and yet germinate in the future when planted. In 2000, one of these bottles was dug up, and 23 seeds of V. blattaria were planted in favorable conditions, yielding a 50% germination rate."

Sapsucker Art

Day 147: The holes in this tree's bark, looking ever so much like the uniform perforations between postage stamps, are not the product of insect infestation as one might initially assume. Observation over a period of time would reveal the culprit to be a Red-Breasted Sapsucker, a member of the woodpecker family. Often mistaken by novice birders as a "red-headed woodpecker," Sapsucker does indeed have a red head, with the colouration extending only a short way down the breast in the manner of a cowl. Contrary to the popular belief which gave rise to the birds' common name, Sapsuckers' primary diet consists of the insects which are attracted to the sap oozing from drilled trees. The birds drill, fly off, and return later to harvest the bugs which have been attracted to the sweet sap. Sapsucker holes are shallow, but when drilled into small-diameter limbs and trunks may result in injury and breakage of the affected tree. Not a problem here! This non-native English walnut is slated for removal from an area under ecological restoration to native habitat.

First Day Of Skunk Cabbage

Day 146: Happy First Day of Skunk Cabbage to all my readers! Okay, it's a rather sad offering, but considering the fact that in two hours, four inches of new snow fell in my yard (and it's still coming down as I write this), I'll take whatever I can get. Some of you may recall that the First Day of Skunk Cabbage is one of the important dates on my personal calendar. It's a moveable feast for obvious reasons, but seldom has it occurred quite this early. Since it is dependent on the timing of my own first observation of Lysichiton americanus, a lot of different factors come into play. If it hadn't been that I had an appoinment for a hair cut this morning, it could well have occurred next week instead. I braved the snow to venture into Flatland and, since I was already out, decided to check my Nisqually Land Trust beat. The compulsive litterer had been at it again, leaving me at least one full pickup-load of construction debris. Feeling rather downhearted by the find, I started home via a different route, and was passing alongside a debris-filled ditch when a wink of yellow caught the tail of my eye. A quarter of a mile later, I found a wide spot in which to reverse direction safely. Yes! There were my beloved Skunks, putting in their first appearance of the year. The sight of them turned my mood around. Spring is here, snow or no.

Naturalist-at-Large

Day 296: In the truest sense of the word, I was literally wearing a different hat today, although still functioning in my role as a naturalist. Today I conducted a small group of associates from the Nisqually Land Trust on an interpretive walk through my Ohop Valley stewardship property. The theme of the easy hike was "How Restoration Benefits the Critter Community," and covered topics including species-specific use of plants for forage and habitat, successes and failures in the restoration process, forest succession and the human history of the area. I devised a "nature bingo" and awarded wooden Audubon bird-calls to the first two participants who completed it, and handed out consolation prizes to the rest. I took guidance from an interpretive system called ACE ("Audience-Centered Experience"), and was happy to find that this group was easy to engage in discussion when I drew them out with questions. It was a bit of a change-up from my usual (and rather pedantic) recitation of scientific facts. The group's responses were well thought-out when asked to give their opinions on what constitutes "old-growth forest," an arbitrary human definition which varies from agency to agency but even moreso from a critter's point of view. The Nisqually Land Trust is a private non-profit organization, and therefore will not be affected by the prevailing anti-science sentiments in high-level government. Here, I can speak science freely, helping to educate people who, hopefully, will secure a future for our Earth.

Crow's New Wings

Day 291: For the last six months or so, it has been becoming more and more obvious that my six-year old Accent was leaning toward becoming a money-pit. Its worst ailment to date affected its circulatory system, i.e., it suffered a nearly terminal case of injectorosclerosis and had to have a four-way bypass to the tune of a thousand crisp greenbacks. Although that fixed the immediate symptoms, others inclined me to think that the fuel pump would be next to go. I hadn't been as kind to it as I'd intended when I bought it, and I'd been compelled to make some inventive stop-gap repairs to the body as well. All things considered, we'd reached the point where I felt I'd be throwing good money after bad, leading into a probable cascade of events deleterious to my finances. Sometimes you have to spend money to save money, so after careful (if quiet) thought, today I entered into a lease and drove out of the showroom with a "symphony silver" 2018 Hyundai Elantra. There are no logging roads in its future, promise.

Invasive Bullfrog

Day 278: I would not have thought I had it in me to dislike a frog, but Rana catesbeiana (American Bullfrog) has given me reason to re-evaluate my position. No doubt about it, this invasive species is impacting our native frog population as well as populations of other amphibians. In fact, they have even been reported to eat birds. They are wary and fast, active and predacious both day and night, sometimes coming onto shore to hunt. Aside from out-competing native species, this exotic may also be a vector (host) for diseases which affect native amphibs. The good news is that they are primarily a lowland species. This large specimen was observed outside Eatonville. To the best of my knowledge, they have not been reported inside the Park.

Twinberry, Lonicera Involucrata

Day 219: A member of the honeysuckle family, Twinberry (Lonicera involucrata) is a woody shrub which can attain a height up to 10 feet. It is one of the species selected by the Nisqually Land Trust for use in the restoration of Ohop Valley. The yellow flowers occur in pairs at the leaf axils, attract hummingbirds and insect pollinators, and are followed by development of two bitter-tasting black berries, non-poisonous but unpalatable to humans. However, the fruits are a valuable food source for grouse and quail, as well as songbirds including grosbeaks and thrushes. The dense growth habit of this shrub also provides habitat and protection from predators for birds and small mammals.

Platypredia Virginalis, Ranchman's Tiger Moth

Day 216: My big score from Ohop Valley yesterday was Platypredia virginalis, known variously as "Ranchman's Tiger Moth" or "Rangeland Tiger Moth." Somewhat larger than the familiar Banded Woolly Bear (Isabella Tiger Moth), Platypredia virginalis reverses the colour scheme: orange on the ends, black in the middle, but adds in long white guard hairs as a dorsal mane. The caterpillars' primary diet consists of plaintains (a genus of weedy plants, not bananas), dandelions and lupine. Plaintain is abundant at this site. It's not that I've never seen the caterpillars before, but thanks to entomologists at BugGuide.net, I am now able to associate the critters with their moth which, incidentally, flies during the day. Its black forewings are striking, marked with large white/cream spots. The hindwings may be black and orange (common at Ohop) or black and white. This specimen was in a big hurry to meet the biological imperative, going hell-bent-for-leather across the asphalt in search of a host plant.

Tee Garden

Day 49: We all know that the game of golf originated in Scotland, right? And Scotland is very like the Pacific Northwest in climate, i.e., damp and rather grey. Although I don't know this for a fact, I would guess that it has an abundance of lichens, and surely among them you could find a number of representatives of the Cladonias. It's a whimsical thought to be sure, but imagine if you will a kilted clansman about to place his leathern ball on the green. His head turns. He's spotted a narrow stalk topped with a cup-shaped form of the exact size to hold the ball. History is made as our redoubtable Scot nestles his gamepiece into the bowl of a specimen of Cladonia fimbriata where it is held securely until he pelts it mightily with his blackthorn and sends it sailing into a gorse thicket, there to remain until the final days of Planet Earth.

I found the mother of all tee gardens on my Nisqually Land Trust beat today. I'd stopped by Ohop Valley to check on the trees we planted a few weeks ago and was delighted to see that a second crew had been in to place protective plastic sleeves around each one. A piece of rotten fence drew my attention, and when I looked up from the single specimen I had just photographed growing on its length, I noticed another rail, its sunward vertical side bearing hundreds of C. fimibriata podetia. I removed one single example to bring home in order to confirm my identification (inset shows the finely farinose soredia), and although it was spongy at the time I picked it, two hours later it had dried to the point that it felt wooden. It was still too flexible to be used as a golf tee but rigid enough to inspire speculation as to the origin of the device. Aye, an' 'tis not so unreasonable to think, eh?

Really Big Snakes

Day 139: Serving as a Site Steward for a property accessed via an out-of-the-way rural road is always an adventure. In the years I've been patrolling Ohop Valley, I've come up with a number of unusual finds: a hardhat, two pickup loads of hydroton pellets (used in hydroponic agriculture), rolls of carpet padding, a sodden blanket, several elk carcases, an entire car bumper, and of course a selection of the more commonly dumped items like old lumber, television sets, a child's car seat, clothing and the ever-popular assortment of dead tires. Today's score included two short lengths of plastic pipe and two which were about twenty feet long...a pair of really big "snakes" I had a hard time wrestling into the little building where we store trash for later pickup.