Artichoke In Flower

Day 352: My next-door neighbor Clyde keeps a small garden, mainly growing enough zucchini and patty-pan squash to feed a small army, produce he lavishes on all and sundry. However, the feature I love best is the corner dedicated to globe artichokes, shown here in the bloomed-out stage and resembling nothing so much as a thistle on steroids.

Admittedly, Clyde's 'chokes are nothing to compare to the large ones seen in grocery stores, but they are just as tasty despite their small size. The plants produce prolifically, and I suspect he might get larger buds if he pinched the plants as they develop, but that's not his way. He fertilizes and waters them, and harvests enough for his personal use, occasionally bringing a small bagful across the fence.

Comet Falls

Day 351: Back on July 19, I hiked up to Comet Falls despite warning signs about icy conditions and took a photo of the falls barely visible in the mist. I've been intending to make a return trip, but the trail is very popular and I prefer to hike away from the sound of human voices. Although it was rather late in the day when I left home, the two-mile trek went quickly. The only people I saw were on their way down, so when I arrived at the falls, I had the magnificent 320-foot cascade to myself. A vertical wide-angle shot was the only way to do it justice. In a few more weeks, this beautiful spot will disappear into the mists once again, to be seen only by those who venture forth on skis or snowshoes.

Bog Rush, Juncus Effusus

Day 350: Bog or Common Rush (Juncus effusus) is considered an invasive species in many areas, and yet it is still offered for sale at a large number of nurseries and continues to be used in landscaping. Seen here at Cochrane Park in Yelm, WA, it was deliberately planted.

The park is a favorite of mine since it holds several duck ponds, all of which are surrounded by both cattails and rushes. The large pond holds grass carp and is open to fishing with a barbless hook. The ducks have been featured in my photostream on several occasions, and even today I couldn't resist taking pictures of them when they emerged from the cover of the reeds.

Dam Construction At Longmire

Day 349: There's a lot of dam construction going on at Longmire Meadow, and I'm wondering if Park Service isn't considering adding an 'n' to the word. The beavers have been very busy over the summer, and have now moved into a grove of small alders where they've taken down quite a few trees. That said, this is all part of the natural process for the region, although it may drastically change the face of the meadow in the long term.

Beavers were once quite numerous in the Nisqually Valley, but were nearly trapped out for the fur trade. Many of the ponds created by their dams still exist, often populated by native cutthroat trout. The activity at Longmire Meadow may bode well for a return of the species to the area.

Nature's Floral Shoppe

Day 348:The light at Mineral Lake yesterday was such that the shadows behind this lovely display of foliage were too bright, preventing it from standing apart from the background. Today, under pewter-grey skies, the greens were more pronounced, each shade individual from the others. The Kingfisher was among the shrubbery somewhere. I saw him in flight twice, the syllables of his cheerful call seeming to echo the fractured reflections in the water as he darted into cover.

Belted Kingfisher, Ceryle Alcyon

Day 347: It's a long zoom and a major crop, but when I spotted this male Belted Kingfisher at Mineral Lake today, I knew he had to be my daily feature. When I first arrived at the lake, he was perched on the end of the boat ramp railing. I stopped the car, rolled down the window, and off he went. He landed in a tree with the car window unavoidably between us, so I tried to step out. Nope, he took off again and went clear past the fishing dock. I assumed he was out of range, but walked down to the dock in the hopes of some other photo opportunity, and then I heard him call. Scanning the distant trees visually, I spotted a white dot, centered the camera on it and zoomed in, but he was way too far away. Then to my surprise, he flew toward me and landed on this branch. At 74x digital zoom, the photo is not crisp by any means, but at least I got the salient identifying features in a typical "field guide" pose, including his famous hairdo.

Farewell To The Meadow

Day 346: After two days of driving long miles and hassling with various bureaucratic departments, I decided I needed a day in the mountains regardless of the fact that it was Saturday. I popped a note off to friends saying that I was "going to go find an unoccupied trail somewhere." Okay, that's not exactly filing a flight plan like you're supposed to do if you hike alone, but it was all I could offer.

I had a photo mission at Longmire, so as I drove, I considered the nearby options. I knew that the Rampart Ridge trail would be a madhouse for the inadequately equipped, so it was to be avoided, although for a moment I thought I might like to visit Fisher's Hornpipe Creek, 3.5 miles from parking. Nah, too many people on that one, too.

In the end, I settled on the trail to Eagle Peak saddle for a number of reasons. Firstly, it's not well-known because it's on the wrong side of the river. Secondly, I hadn't been up it in several years. I didn't believe the weather forecast for 80-degree temperatures, but as it turned out, I should have. By the time I'd gone a mile, the air was swelteringly hot and sticky, as was I.

It was slow going, partly because of the heat and partly because of my knees (if you'll recall, I had a knee repaired last spring), but eventually I topped out at the end of the maintained trail. I didn't consider going on to the summit of Eagle. It is a Class 3 scramble and not something little old ladies with bad knees should attempt alone. There were few people, as I'd expected.

Eagle Peak is the westernmost member of the Tatoosh Range. It would be to the far left of this photo. Shown here is Chutla and the sweeping alpine meadow which lies beneath it, ripe blueberries and all. It is at this point that the trail debouches into meadow from the forest, the saddle a few hundred vertical feet above. I thought it was fitting to title this image "Farewell To The Meadow" since it was taken on my way down, and it won't be long now before the snow returns.

Upon Closer Study

Day 345: This old microscope is not a tool I use often, perhaps only one or two times each year. I've had it "since forever," as they say. It replaced a smaller and less powerful model I owned while still a young girl. I would often sit o'nights in my attic bedroom, pretending to be Marie Curie or Louis Pasteur on the edge of discovery, the only light shining in the mirror the flame of a candle in keeping with the mood. I was keenly interested in geology at the time, so many of the specimens I examined were crystal fragments, plates of mica or even insects trapped in amber. I learned about grain and fracture peering through the monocular eyepiece as I moved slides across the table.

The current model sees a variety of more mundane applications, but the fascination of the microscopic realm still occasionally compels me to explore pollen grains, feathers and even the occasional bug, always curious and ever wanting to learn something new.

In Honor Of Autumn

Day 344: I love Autumn. Or more correctly, I should say I love the onset of Autumn when the colors start to turn and the days are still warm with mornings which dawn with just a hint of Jack Frost's breath in the air. The harvest sings a melody of plentitude as it marches to the larder, squash put by in the root cellar for January dinners and turnips bedded down to await the soup kettle's yawning mouth. Autumn is a glad time which awakens the pioneer spirit to start a fireplace blaze o'mornings, and the lungs to breathe more deeply of air freshened by a light, sweet sprinkle. Let's rejoice in Autumn and dance while we may, before the greys of winter come knocking at the door.

Mt. Rainier's Lenticular Clouds

Special Edition: The phenomenon you see here is a rarity. It does not occur every year, at least not as dramatically as it did this evening. In fact, I would say that in the twenty years I have lived in this same location, I've witnessed it less than half a dozen times, yet these lenticular formations are famous for occurring above the 14,410' summit of Mt. Rainier. They foretell a change in the weather, to be sure, but what a way to bid farewell to summer!

Fireweed Fluff

Day 343: The Fireweed (Epilobium angustifolium) is almost at the end of its blooming season and most plants have already entered the seed-dispersal phase. The seeds of this plant are tiny, almost microscopic, and each one is attached to a silky, airy "parachute" which can be borne for great distances on the breath of the wind. Each slender seed capsule contains dozens of seeds waiting to take wing.

Fireweed had many uses among the native peoples of the Pacific Northwest, including being mixed with mountain goat wool as a weaving thread, or in combination with down for stuffing. The stems provided long, durable fibers for spinning into fishing nets, and the greens (a source of vitamin C) were eaten either cooked or raw.

Fireweed is among the first plants to colonize burned-over areas such as clearcuts, hence its common name. I'm sure these seeds will be on their way soon!

Autumn's Foretelling

Day 342: We turn our backs on summer now, like the leaves falling from the Japanese maple. A chilly morning, this, and the morning light emphasized the chapter title in the Book of Seasons as it found this first fatality among the boughs. It is time to turn the page and accept that Autumn is at our doorsteps as Summer flees the land.

Dread Pirate Corbye

Day 341: Arrr, the Dread Pirate Corbye has made landfall ag'in, and she'll not be tellin' ye where on account o' that chest o' pretties she's after buryin'. 'Twas a foggy morn when first she put into port here, and nary a man jack to be a-watchin' of her. It be a rocky and desolate spot, this, not easy diggin', so she was all a-lather by time the work was done. But none'll be findin' o' this treasure for she laid traps about it and set the ship's parrot on watch afore she took the helm ag'in with a pint o' grog in hand.

Happy Talk Like A Pirate Day!

Blue Elderberry, Sambucus Caerulea

Day 340: Most people in the Pacific Northwest are familiar with Red Elderberry (Sambucus racemosa), but on the prairies of southwestern Washington, the blue variety shown here with its typical white "bloom" is by far the more common. Although the leaves and bark of the plant contain a poisonous glycoside, prepared berries of both species were a vital food source for the area's indigenous population. Caution: these must be cooked before use!

That said, many years ago I decided I'd make elderberry jelly, not realizing that the fruit is little more than skin wrapped around a cluster of grainy seeds. I gathered several gallons of the berries and ran them through a hand-cranked food mill. The juice yield was less than four cups! I abandoned the idea of jelly and never sought to repeat the experiment.

September's Flower

Day 339: The wildflower season is drawing to a close in the alpine areas of the state, and to bid summer farewell, it is now that the Gentians emerge.

Mountain Bog Gentian (Gentiana calycosa) is September's flower, and I love none better. Legend tells us that the blossom took on its color when a bee carrying a burden of summer sky alighted there and was trapped inside when the blossom furled into its typical minaret shape for the night. Gentian protects its deeply cupped flowers by closing in rainy or heavily dewy conditions, and yes, bees and other insects are often caught inside to be released unharmed in the morning.

Today, not a single one of September's Gentians was open under showery skies, and not a bee was to be seen on the trail to Bench Lake. The only trespasser in the meadow was a slightly sodden photographer searching for a bit of legendary blue summer sky caught in a twisted blossom.

No Deere Johns

Day 338: It was back to the Puyallup Fair for me today! You simply can't take it all in on a single trip even if it weren't for the fact that some of the farm animals are exhibited on a rotation basis for lack of adequate barn space. Today, the Poultry Barn was filled with rabbits and the pens which held miniature horses last week were occupied by Boer goats today. I honestly don't think you could see all the Fair has to offer even if you returned three or four times.

Naturally, I took another round of photos, but the one I felt was most appropriate to 365 Caws was this modern FarmAll tractor. Y'see, my daddy drove a FarmAll. His loyalty to the make went back to his own father's preference, and mine follows suit. Those green things you see parked in peoples' fields are just glorified lawn mowers. A FarmAll is a real tractor!

Dinosaur Chutney

Day 337: It was another busy day in the Crow household. For some reason, I've gone on a canning jag this year after more than twenty years' absence from this type of preserving. In the interim, I've dried fruit and smoked fish, but the art of jelly, jam and chutney making was shelved. In any event, with 24 half-pints of blackberry jam in my larder, I decided it was time to break out my mother's recipe for Dinosaur Chutney.

Although the recipe was originally printed as "Abdul's Brigadiere Chutney" in a canning leaflet long forgotten, the finished product's resemblance to something dredged up from the LaBrea Tar Pits earned it a family nickname. My mother tweaked the recipe to use peaches instead of mangoes, and I've further adjusted it to make it as spicy-hot as the East Indian curries I love. Beware, because as my mom used to say, "It'll put hair on your chest!"

Dinosaur Chutney

3 pounds peeled and diced peaches
6 cups sugar
3 oz. minced garlic
5 tsp. powdered ginger
1 1/2 Tbsp. dried chili flakes
1 pound raisins
2 cups white vinegar
2 Tbsp. salt

Combine ingredients and bring to a boil. Boil gently for 1 1/4 to 1 1/2 hours, or until a spoonful of cooled preserve resembles firm-set jelly. Pour into sterilized jars, seal, and process in a hot-water bath for ten minutes. Makes eight half-pints with some left over.

I think this finishes up canning season for me!

Frog Hollow

Day 336: Here is a visual puzzle for my readers. How many tiny little 3/4" long Cascades frogs can you find in this picture?

After catching a limit of silvers from Riffe Lake fishing bridge today (nothing worth writing home about), I decided to take a walk up to Goat Creek, thinking I might be able to catch these little fellows swarming on the moist bank as they frequently do. As I started to make my way along a trodden path through the tall grass, the ground came alive with little dark flecks racing out of harm's way. I checked up short lest I step on somebody, and then proceeded with caution. Every time I came to a piece of old and rotting wood, the "bark" would suddenly disperse, dozens at a time. When I first came upon this cluster, not a fleck of the moss could be seen beneath the pile of froglets. Only a few stayed behind for the photo. How many? Answer: at least 13. Look carefully!

Mystery Mallow

Day 335: Yesterday I noticed an odd plant in my scatter garden. Of course I never know what I'm going to get when I broadcast a package of "mixed wildflowers," but I do try to identify as many as possible once they come into bloom. From the shape of the buds and sepals, it was fairly obvious that the plant was kin to a Hollyhock, i.e., it had to be a member of the broad family of Mallows. Since I have no idea where the seed may have originated, I'm at a loss to narrow it down any finer than that.

Pinnacle Illusion

Day 334: After a day among people yesterday, I needed a hike. I was just gearing up to leave when a friend stopped by and stayed for an hour and a half, forcing a revision of plan. Instead of hiking up to Comet Falls in the cooler portion of the day, I wound up making a shorter trek to the saddle between Pinnacle Peak and Plummer Peak where the mosquitoes were absolutely ravenous.

That said, I did manage to take a number of photos during the course of the hike, this one coming on the heels of a "trick photography" shoot yesterday. As I was framing a shot of the Mountain, I happened to notice that the curves of two adjacent tree trunks matched almost exactly in both size and arc, making it appear that there was only one tree which was both broken and unbroken, a subtle but nonetheless forced perspective. The novelty of the arrangement and coincidence of the previous day's shoot secured its spot in today's 365 Caws.

Life Is Good

Day 333: Today, the honors go to my fishing buddy and his little wife in acknowledgement of seventy years of marriage. Yep, seventy years! They were sweethearts through their high school years and shortly after they married, they each joined the military and were stationed far apart for the duration of the Second World War. They started a family when the war ended, raising two daughters.

Today, the family includes both daughters, three grandchildren and three great-grandchildren, plus one "adopted" member, the other half of the team fish have reason to fear. If ever two people epitomized the phrase, "Life is good," it would be these two wonderful people I am glad to have as part of my life. Here's to many more anniversaries!

Neophasia Menapia, Pine White

Day 332: The weather here is unpleasantly hot and has been for more than a week now. Although cool nights temper the mornings, by noon, you'll break a sweat if you exert yourself in the slightest. The heat of the day has not been entirely without reward, however. It brings out the few butterflies which have not already pupated.

One might mistake any of the Whites for another on casual glance, but of the four varieties one might find in my region, the Pine White is the only one with distinctive black wing margins.

Chicks Rule

Day 331: Well, the Puyallup Fair opened today, so I bundled up the camera and headed out the door in time to be one of the first in line. The Fair gets pretty crowded when the weather is good, making it almost impossible to get close enough to any of the exhibits to get photos without some portion of someone in the shot. I had several specific targets in mind, the first being the produce displays put on by the area granges. That done, I raced over to the Pavilion and the photo salons. Taking pictures is not allowed in the salons, but since I have an image on display in the International Salon, I was able to get permission for a photo of my own photo with myself in the shot. The image was taken by one of the officials and I had to chuckle because it required quite a bit of straightening in post.

Next on the agenda were the pig pens and the baby piglets which always draw a good crowd. Then I was off to see if chickens were on display (the poultry barn also serves for rabbits on a rotation basis). Not only were the chickens present, but the brooder was full of little girls just begging to be stars. These two were inseparable friends. Hey, chicks rule!

A Serving Of September

Day 330: Recipe for September

Half a dozen Echinacea plants, widely distributed
One Gloriosa daisy clump
Several small Rudbeckias
As many red poppies as will fill your basket
Cornflowers, blue, pink and magenta
A dash of Globe Gilia

Mix well with water and soil and allow to mature for several months. When mixture comes to a full rolling bloom, spoon lightly into bowls and vases and set about the house. Best served with morning light. Enjoy!

Froggy Friends

Day 329: The tiny little Cascades Frogs (Rana cascadae) were out in droves along the water's edge at Riffe Lake this morning. When I stepped from the concrete boat ramp onto the moist sand, the vibration generated by my footfall set them into action. Dozens scampered across the ground while others climbed quickly onto rocks and stumps. Not to miss a photo op when it's handed to me, I quickly zoomed in on this little fellow but didn't realize there was a second climber behind him until I uploaded the photo into the computer.

The Cascades Frog is arguably western Washington's most common frog. They prefer a habitat close to still water, but may also be found near streams occasionally. I have seen them in the meadows surrounding alpine tarns at elevations approaching 6000', although these were spotted at Riffe Lake near Glenoma, WA.

Bird In The Hand

Day 328: After an absence of many years, the Pine Siskins returned early this last spring and have been constant visitors to the feeder since that time. They are gregarious little birds, and often I've had to shoo them away in order to add more seed.

This morning as I was watering the garden, I came very close to spraying one with the hose because I hadn't noticed him hanging onto the wire mesh. When I finished, I walked past, surprised at how close I could get. Just as an experiment, I brought a finger close to his feet. He simply kept on eating, allowing me then to place my hand behind him. I touched a foot. No change. Okay, that decided the next course of action: go get the camera.

When I went back out, he was still merrily munching away. I put some nyjer seed in my hand and then took several shots as I edged closer. When I tried to get him onto my hand, he moved around to the back side of the feeder. I tried again, and this time, he flew down to the garden. I knelt down and put my hand under his breast. One little foot came up and rested on my finger. I lifted...and there he was. It took him all of two seconds to discover the palmful of seed.

I couldn't decide which picture to post, one of these or one up against the contorted filbert you see in the upper right corners. Yes, we went for a little walk, just like this, and when he'd finally had his fill, he hopped into the filbert, still not the least bit perturbed by his first contact with a human.

The Picker

Day 327: Summer weather persists, and it was too nice to stay at home today, and I could hear the blackberries calling my name. Twenty minutes in a patch near Mossyrock filled a one-gallon pail with plump juicy berries, and that doesn't count the ones I couldn't resist eating. When I got home, the first priority was canning. I just finished putting up eight half-pints in addition to those I made two days ago, and another batch of juice is waiting. Happy Harvest Season, everyone!

The Best Is Homemade

Day 326: Eight half-pints of blackberry jam were the yield from yesterday's pickings, that and a overrun of approximately two-thirds of another half-pint which went in an unsealed jar for prompt use. What better way to serve homemade blackberry jam than on a slice of fresh homemade bread? No, no butter. No cow! :LOL: Truly, I only wanted to savor the full-bodied flavor of the jam itself. It needs no accompaniment. Tucked away now against chilly mornings, these few jars will be carefully rationed out over the winter unless, of course, I find another batch of ripe blackberries waiting to be picked.

Baby, We Are Jammin'

Day 325: It's been more than twenty years since I made jam or jelly, and I thought it was about time I did something about that. On my way home from town, I stopped at a small blackberry patch on a quiet road, emptied one of my shopping bags and started picking. The best ones are always just out of reach, so braving life and limb, I tromped on a cane as big around as my thumb and began working my way toward a nice cluster. More than once, I had to extricate myself from the grasp of thorns; more than once, I swore at prickles which pierced the sturdy denim of my jeans. I'd collected half a gallon or so and had pretty well worn out the patch, but as I turned to start back to the car, an angry cane took out its revenge. The bottom of the plastic bag ripped and about half my provender tumbled into the thicket.

Not to be outdone, I swung past the hardware store and bought a small tin bucket, then went seeking a different patch. I arrived home with about a gallon of luscious, ripe berries. Baby, we are jammin' tonight!

Gearing Up With Sno-Seal

Day 324: For the last month or so, I've been telling myself it was time to Snow-Seal my "daily" boots, the pair I wear for most short hikes, and I kept forgetting. Forgetting? Well, maybe "postponing" would be a better word. Y'see, Sno-Seal is a wonderful product, but when you get it on you, you're pretty well snow-sealed for life, if you know what I mean. I haven't been able to find anything which will take it off your hands without taking off a layer of skin as well. That said, with several active pair of boots, snow-sealing is something I try to get over with all at once, but yesterday, I realized the "daily" boots were going to need additional treatment before the others are due.

To apply the stuff, I heat it in a panful of hot water until it liquifies. I slather it on with a paintbrush and wipe off the excess with paper towels. Then I put the boots on the drier, turn it on and let the gentle heat open the pores of the leather so it can soak in. Even if I haven't gotten any on my hands during the application process, the next few times I use the boots, I'll invariably come into contact with some glob I missed, thereby weatherproofing myself for several more trips on the trail.

Bear With Me

Day 323: Today was September Morn, a day of personal significance and one I prefer to spend hiking. To that end, I packed a day-pack and set out for Sunrise in Mt. Rainier National Park well before dawn, planning to arrive at the trailhead about 8:00 AM.

The temperature was a crisp 39° F. at Sunrise when I got out of the car, perfect weather for early-morning hiking. I had no specific plan other than to go as far as my knees would allow, and after reaching Frozen Lake in a mile, I had to make a decision whether to go over Burroughs on a loop trail, climb over Skyscraper Pass, or descend into the bowl called Berkeley Park. The wildflowers won out, even though I knew it would be a long pull climbing out of Berkeley later in the day.

Halfway down the first long traverse, I stopped to take pictures of a Hoary Marmot. When I started up again, motion in the meadow below me caught the corner of my eye. It wasn't long before I saw a head raised from the serious business of breakfast. Yes, a black bear was dining right beside the trail further down.

To prevent frightening my ursine companion into a charge, I spoke loudly without shouting, "Heya, Bear! Hey, Berkeley Bear! Ya mind if I use the trail? Comin' through here." Berkeley wasn't moved. I edged closer, speaking in congenial tones all the while. Berk shambled off into a small hollow and resumed eating.

Well, since I was going that way anyway and had the camera around my neck, the logical thing to do was try to get a picture. The trouble was, Berk was contentedly chewing with his head down. I whistled. I popped and clicked. I sang. Do you think he'd raise his head? I got quite a few shots of bear butt with ears showing above the meadow flowers before he finally looked up and gave me the shot which upstages any other photo I took today. We were about forty feet apart.

It was a glad, good September Morn, but kiddies, do NOT try this at home!