Youth And Middle Age

Day 94: Platismatia glauca, known commonly as Ragbag for its soft feel, is in its early growth phase a light olive green (top). As the lichen matures, its colour fades to a bluish-grey (bottom), and in the later part of its life cycle, develops a pinkish tinge. It is one of the lichens commonly used in the dyeing of handspun wool and is said to give shades from light tan to brown. Although I've never dyed any of my handspun yarn, Platismatia glauca is quite abundant in our area and would be one of the options I would consider. It would be interesting to experiment with it in different growth phases to see if the dye quality changes with the colour of the lichens used.

These specimens were windfall, literally. The storm which took out my power a few days ago left my yard littered with small branches and a few rather large ones. I doubt I could harvest enough Platismatia from them to dye a skein of wool, although it's a tempting thought.

Raison D'être

Day 102: Platismatia glauca - pale greenish-grey, often turning pink with age; ascending and irregular lobes 3-20 mm. wide, margins often with abundant granular soredia/isidia; habitat: Douglas-fir and spruce forest, esp. on branches; apothecia rare.

(I might as well warn you right now that this is going to be a long read, and it's not a natural-history post. Proceed at your own discretion, and learn a little more about the Crow.)

The first paragraph of this post is a sample of the type of writing I will be doing for the portion of the Burke Herbarium's image gallery which includes lichens: bald facts inserted into a template as tidily as possible. It's not creative writing. It's Science, plain and concise. This "new gig" (as one friend termed it) comes about as a result of a casual inquiry I made to the collection manager about adding a description to four lichen photos I'd just uploaded. Very few of the lichen species in the gallery are described scientifically as yet, so in response, he suggested that if I was willing, he could open that portion of the database to me. I agreed, and will be starting work on the project shortly.

This was an exciting development from my point of view. I was thrilled with the prospect of having another venue in which to further education of the public as to the wonders of natural history, but I let my enthusiasm get somewhat ahead of my thoughts when I posted the news on social media. I did not consider that most of my readers might think the "Burke Gallery" was an elegant building parked somewhere on the University of Washington campus; I simply assumed that they would know it was a web page. I also assumed that they would realize that this was yet another volunteer project. I was surprised this morning by a collection of congratulatory comments from people who assumed there was a certain amount of prestige attached to the job. I was also stunned when one person commented, "Finally a paying gig! Now you'll be a published author!" Waitaminit, sez I to self, and I started immediately composing a partial retraction to set the record straight.

First of all, I already am a published author. My works have appeared in a few small publications and one notable one, the latter yielding a whole $50 in payment, not once, but twice. So there. I am not only a published author, I am a PAID published author! But that's beside the point, and actually in conflict with the nature of this post.

Those close to me will have heard me say at some point or another that I don't believe in money. I don't. It's an artifical construct, and it's been responsible for much of the world's woes since some nitwit invented it. It's arguable whether my disbelief in the monetary principle originated from never really having had much contact with non-vegetative green stuff, but that also is neither here nor there. The fact of the matter is that I have lived on the margin of poverty almost my entire life, sometimes on one side of the divide and sometimes on the other. Since being forced onto Social Security, my income has placed me anywhere from a dollar and a half to twenty-five dollars above the level of eligibility for any type of public assistance. I lead, as have many naturalists before me, a hand-to-mouth existence, but the bottom line is that I am doing what I love at a cost I am willing to accept.

Let's back up to that "paying gig" comment again. I have to say that I am puzzled as to why the idea of doing anything for free with an eye to the greater good is so far beyond the grasp of so many people. Perhaps it's because as an impoverished member of society, I was restricted from accessing such privileges as a higher education that I now feel that knowledge, particularly knowledge of the natural world, should be readily available to every man, woman and child on the planet. Who knows what brilliant mind out there might be too focused on finding a reliable food source to be pondering a cure for cancer? The assumption is that the poor are stupid. Why? Because they're not making money. Thus, they are limited in how far they can elevate themselves academically (as I was), and because they have no credentials with which to obtain a position, they are caught in a vicious circle. I was fortunate in that certain people in the Park accepted me as knowledgeable even without a string of letters after my name. Okay, acceptance in the Park doesn't buy groceries, but as I said, I'm doing what I love even when the table is bare.

Money aside, neither am I concerned with prestige, although I have to admit to being thoroughly jazzed at the thought of being the Burke's "lichen writer." My name will not appear as a by-line in any obvious context. If you wish to see how many lichen descriptions I may have authored (none as yet!), you will have to find one of my photos in the gallery and click on my name in order to get a summary of my various contributions, both photographic and descriptive.

That said, I am not without ego, by any stretch of the imagination. Although it will be impossible for me to know that it has occurred, my deepest desire is that some day, someone somewhere will be browsing through Park archives or the Burke, Nisqually Land Trust files or those of the Invasive Plant Council, or even the Bird Phenology Program, and that person will turn to their companions to ask, "Who's this Crow guy whose name keeps popping up?" If one of the companions turns back to that person to reply, "Oh, that was a woman back at the start of the 21st Century. She was instrumental in advancing knowledge of the natural world through her works in several organizations," I will have had all the reward I need.

Platismatia Duo

Day 55: If I'd been conducting a lichen walk, I couldn't have asked for a better demonstration of two species of Rag Lichen. A piece of Ribbon Rag (Platismatia stenophylla) had dropped on the trail right beside a similarly-sized hunk of Ragbag (P. glauca), forming a textbook comparison without the slightest rearrangment by me. At first glance, P. stenophylla could be taken for P. herrei (Tattered Rag) which also occurs in the Park, but herrei exhibits soredia and isidia (reproductive structures) on its lobes. As a general rule, Platismatias tend to have a soft, limp feel when handled, hence the word "rag" in so many of their common names. In particular, Platismatia glauca takes on a pink tinge as it ages, making it look even more like a soppy old dishrag.

Ragbag And Mouse Bottoms

Day 160: Platismatia glauca ("Ragbag" or Varied Rag Lichen) is almost as common in Pacific Northwest forests as Doug fir cones. It is easily recognized by its pale grey-green colour, "limp dishrag" feel and brownish lower surface. Closer observation may reveal soredia on the margins of the lobes. These are "mini-lichens," reproductive structures capable of taking hold in the appropriate medium to become new colonies. Shown here with a fir cone for size comparison, the soredia are barely visible on this fresh, verdant specimen.

As for that fir cone, there's a widely circulated story about Grandfather Douglas Fir giving shelter to the creatures of the forest during a fire. It is not an authentic legend despite popular belief, but it's entertaining nevertheless. During the fire, the frightened animals ran to old Douglas Fir to plead for refuge from the flames, knowing that the Fir's thick bark protects the tree and allows it to survive all but the hottest fires. The elk left footprints on the interior of the cone's scales and the outline can be seen if you peel a dry scale away (mine were too wet). However, the mice were rather late in their approach and when they asked Doug Fir to harbour them, he said, "I don't know...it's awfully crowded in here, but you can try to squeeze in." The mice did so, but couldn't get all the way inside. You can see their little bottoms sticking out of the cone in this picture.

All In A Day's Work

Day 141: These are just a few of the lichen species I documented over a four-mile walk today. All of these are fairly common in the Longmire Stewardship Campground and on the west side of the Park. Top left: Stereocaulon paschale, "Easter Lichen"; top right: Peltigera britannica, "Flaky Freckle Pelt"; bottom left: Platismatia glauca, "Varied Rag" or "Ragbag"; bottom right: Sphaerophorus venerabilis (formerly S. globosus), "Coral Lichen." Each has a special mechanism for capturing and holding precious moisture until it can be absorbed into the lichen's tissues. Stereocaulon utilizes tiny scales (squamules), while both Peltigera and Platismatia have veined, pitted surfaces in which moisture accumulates. Sphaerophorus relies on its lacework of branches to retain even the smallest deposits of dew. Highly adapted organisms, lichens can survive protracted periods of dry weather due to their specialized forms.

Platismatia Glauca, Ragbag Lichen

Day 114: Very common in forests comprised largely of Douglas fir, Platismatia glauca's limp, floppy lobes give it the common names of Ragbag or Varied Rag Lichen. Either way, the appellation sounds disparaging, but then those people who name lichens seem to sit up nights thinking of odd things to call them. I find this pale grey-green, lushly foliose species quite attractive. It has a tendency to fade to pinkish brown along the margins, the "art-deco" look translated to the woodland environment. If ever the faeries wanted material for ball gowns, they'd undoubtedly choose Platismatia glauca. For that reason alone, it deserves a better name than Ragbag.