Fall Colours

Day 8: It's not a spectacular year for colour here in the mountains. Reds and oranges aren't as vivid as they might be, and yellows lack something in enthusiasm as well. Nevertheless, these little spots of beauty draw the eye and brighten the landscape in one last grand performance before the greys and browns of winter take the stage. My vining hydrangea (left) has fully recovered from an unfortunate encounter with a lawn mower a few years ago, and now covers its trellis on the garage wall, in full view from the kitchen window. The vine maples at the edge of the yard (middle) and across the street are blushing, and even compete with their larger Big-leaf cousin (right) for Best of Show. Nature schools us in the beauty of diversity, if only we will heed her lesson and open our eyes to the wonder of it.

Devil's Tower

Day 152: I talk about the Devil's Tower in conjunction with trips to Sulphur Creek Falls, but have rarely posted photos of it because it doesn't present itself readily to the lens, obscured as it is by vegetation. It is also difficult to capture its detail since it is almost always backlit by the sun. I believe it to be an ancient volcanic plug, exposed by erosion. In any event, its pockmarked, knobbled construction affords mosses, sedums and various other mosture-loving plants a place to take hold, and very little of its rocky structure remains visible through gaps in their blanket. It stands as gate-keeper to the Tolkienesque stronghold of Sulphur Creek Falls; you cannot go below its base without wearing heavy armour against the massed forces of devil's-club and salmonberry, and if you should be inclined to come in from above, there is no way down short of a treacherous rappel. I would estimate its height at roughly sixty feet from the narrow, mud-greased ledge I refer to as its base (although presumably it is anchored in some geologically impressive lava conduit far beneath the forested slope). Its ledge always draws a sigh of relief from my heaving chest. There, I can progress some thirty yards without struggling for every toehold, even pausing to admire its botanical garden. "That really is Suksdorfia," I say to myself as I admire a cluster of scalloped leaves which obviously enjoy the wet, north-facing wall. It is the only location outside the Park where I have observed the species. As much as any other reason, the botanical diversity pulls me back here, certain that there is some rarity on the Tower which I've failed to notice, being too set upon the goal of the falls.

Starflower, Trientalis Latifolia

Day 252: A relatively common plant in the lower forests of the Pacific Northwest, Starflower's blossoms may be pink or white, and for many years, the two were treated as different subspecies following the nomenclatural convention of "splitting." The opposite of "splitting" in taxonomy is known as "lumping," and the proponents of either side of the coin are known respectively as "lumpers" and "splitters." It's kinda like Democrats and Reprobates (um...did I mean "Republicans?" No, don't think so). Currently, the Lumpers hold the majority as far as botany is concerned, so what I have always thought of as Trientalis borealis ssp. latifolia has been reallocated to the simpler Trientalis latifolia, pink or not. Fortunately with botany (unlike politics), you can be of two minds about this without major conflicts of conscience. One, lumping subspecies into a single species regardless of the obvious differences in physical characteristics gives us a manageable homogeneity (if sometimes skewed toward the dominant form) and an objective overview of the organism as a whole; two, splitting into subspecies allows us to learn more about the diversity of the parent species' adaptive responses and how they have shaped its natural history. Personally, I think the convenience of lumping should be relegated to field guides for novices with a fear of long names. I'll undoubtedly continue referring to Starflower as Trientalis borealis ssp. latifolia in the hopes that some day, the Splitters will regain the house.

World Apple Day

Day 2: Happy World Apple Day! What? You've never heard of it? That's understandable. It's primarily celebrated in the UK, although it's catching on here in the apple country of the Pacific Northwest. It recognizes both the ubiquitous apple and the orchards in which they are grown, celebrating the fruit in all its rich diversity of colours, flavours and textures. I will be doing my part, dancing with Sound & Fury Morris at Finnriver Cidery, and of course partaking of the excellent product for which they are known. Waitaminit here...GET OFF MY APPLE!