Freeze-Dried Amanitas

Day 38: My photo software continues to be problematic, so I have taken the liberty of getting a few items ready for posting during a moment when it chose to be cooperative. I hope my regular readers will forgive any geographic redundancies which may occur (e.g., this image was also shot at Longmire, as was yesterday's).

Last week, a cold snap took the Plant Kingdom by surprise. My dogwood and mountain ash had just begun to shed their leaves, and neither my Japanese maple nor the contorted filbert had dropped a single one until the temperature plummeted abruptly into the low 20s. The chilly temps were accompanied by strong winds...drying winds, as I was soon to discover when I looked out on a scene of withered, pendant foliage still clinging to the twigs. A few more days of wind carried the maple's leaves into the neighbor's yard, but the filbert is still hanging on to its little flags. In the course of a discussion yesterday, I learned that the lack of cold prior to this weather event had not permitted the formation of the ablation layer of cells required for normal leaf-drop.

This photo shows a phenomenon I've never seen before in the Pacific Northwest: mushrooms freeze-dried in situ. These Amanitas, formerly thick and plump, shrivelled until they were thinner than a pancake (and resembled one at first glance). Now papery and brittle, the drying winds and accompanying cold dessicated them where they stood, just as the weather had sucked the moisture out of the deciduous foliage. I will be interested to see how this affects next year's growth.

Longmire's Lonesome Boulder

Day 37: I don't think it takes too much imagination to see the glum face this boulder presents, but I have never yet seen anyone stop to give him a kindly word (other than me, of course). They walk or drive past, intent on getting to a meeting or luncheon at the Community Building or to set off on a hike to Eagle Peak, but never spare so much as a nod in his direction. Perhaps years of being ignored have soured his disposition; sitting there all lorn and lonesome, watching the river gallop along to exciting places and seeing humans come and go. I am an animist. I cannot ignore his plight, although my best efforts have not cheered him up one whit. Perpetual bad mood or not, he has one friend who enjoys seeing him.

Well, Whadda Ya Know!

Day 36 UPDATED: If you just keep beating your head against walls, sooner or later, you're going to find one that will crumble. I went at my photo-processing software from a different angle and got it working again!

Mystery Grain

Day 36: Brace yourself, because this post is going to have very little to do with the above photograph.

I seem to be in one of those pockets of mishap which occur in all our lives, and three days of it is quite enough, thank you. I want out! It started with a flat tire which wound up with the purchase of four new ones due to wear, and has been accompanied by nosebleeds (a function of dry weather), errors in simple knitting, and now as the final straw, the demise of my photo-processing software where, as you know, I just learned to add curved text. Oh, I have an older version on a half-dead computer in my back bedroom, but it's not nearly as powerful as the one I've become used to using over the last several years.

And there's the rub. Apparently an update overwrote something in the software, figuring that if it was no longer supported (and it's that old, yes), the space could be better used for something else. I've tried every trick I know to bring it back to life, but it seems to be well and truly dead. And I am ... well, "peeved" would be a polite word. My readers should therefore not expect my usual standard in these posts because it will be a while before I can replace it.

I don't want to tempt fate by asking what else can go wrong because I can imagine a wealth of answers. I just hope a few of them miss me because I feel like I'm the prime target at this point.

So what's the mystery grain? The birds planted it in my flowerbed, something they scattered out of the feeder. I pulled most of it but let a few sprays go to maturity. The stalk resembles corn, but stands less than three feet high. I could not find any seeds in the head which might have given me a clue as to its identity.

Footnote: the Mystery Grain is proso millet, and I suspect the birds figured that out before I did, which accounts for the lack of seeds in the heads. Gee, they grew their own food this year!

Eatonville's New Trail

Day 35: From working with the Nisqually Land Trust, I knew that plans were in the works for Eatonville to extend its trail system up into Boxcar Canyon and eventually further on to meet up with the trails in Pack Forest, but I was not expecting a new section to crop up almost overnight. As I drove into town a few days ago, I noticed a sign reading, "Bud Blancher Trail," and a parking area at the head of a sloping, gravelled path about eight feet wide. Rather late in the day today, I stopped and followed it until it crossed the Mashel, bringing me out at my favourite lichen stump in Smallwood Park. It continued on along the old road which I've walked many times, so in the interest of keeping my nose out of Jack Frost's reach, I turned around and went back to the car. Only then did I notice the map which showed this newly completed section following the boundary of Pack Forest on the north for another half-mile or so beyond Smallwood. I'll have to go back in warmer weather to explore that section!

Local Color

Day 34: You know what really worries me? That I share the same streets and shopping district as the owner of this truck. It is one thing to have radical opinions and keep them to yourself (or share them with like-minded people), but a different circumstance entirely to vocalize them publicly and even more outlandish, to advertise them in this manner where they not only offend the eye but the sensibilities as well. Of course we do not all agree; we are individuals after all, but let's maintain decorum when espousing our views, whatever they may be. And for pity's sake, if you must rant, learn how to spell!

Nigella In Contrast

Day 33: As a species, humans tend to think of their visual capabilities as being pretty sophisticated. After all, we can differentiate something in the neighborhood of ten million colors. However, that very function often obscures the finer details of an object by overwhelming the eye and brain. Perhaps that explains why black-and-white photography has maintained its appeal despite the camera's ability to capture "true to life" hues. In a black-and-white image, features which would otherwise have been lost under a barrage of color stand out in greater relief. The maroon markings on the dried, brownish pods of Nigella are barely worth a passing glance in color, but in black-and-white, they become a primary point of interest. Don't ignore your camera's black-and-white mode!