Elk Shed

Day 345: Stumping along in the deep, dark forest, you never know what you may find. I had taken a detour in order to explore a small shelf of moss-rich ground which looked like it might be chanterelle country, but finding only lobsters (which I do not eat), I began climbing back up from the terrace via a different route. Why waste energy in retracing my steps? I already knew there weren't any mushrooms along the descent. Unless I came to a dead end in an impossible tangle of downed limbs and trees, exploring new territory might bring a bit more for the dinner table or subject matter for a natural-history post. I had just rounded a rather large tree to avoid a steeper slope when something caught my eye. "That's not a branch," I said aloud. "That's an elk antler." One tip was broken, but the critter who wore it must have been an impressive beast. I moved his shed crown into a sun-fleck for the photo, and then replaced it where I had found it, hoping that it may lichenize in time and give me more material for discussion. I seriously doubt anyone else will follow this route, although a similar and somewhat larger antler I found in the same area a few years ago has disappeared.

Half Rack

Day 259: I'm sure there are a number of locals who'd like to know where this half-rack was found, but I hasten to remind people that removal of anything from the Park is strictly prohibited. I might be asked, "But why can't I take it home?" I don't expect my explanation to be accepted with good grace, but the fact of it is that this antler will become home and food to a number of different insects, insects which will in turn become nourishment for birds, frogs and other critters, and will contribute minerals to the soil ecology which supports plant growth. It might even be possible that some rare species depend on its biodegradation in order to proliferate. Certain lichens and fungi only grow on decaying antlers. Mycorrhizal affiliations are present in many of the Park's rarer plants. Is there a connection? We don't know. The bottom line is that we humans do not fully understand how things are connected in our environment, and already, our interference with natural processes has disrupted the mechanisms in uncounted ways both small and large. We have ripped and torn the flesh of our Mother Earth when we should have been walking quietly beside her, drawing our lessons from her to ensure our continued survival.