Eagle Peak

Day 170: This one's for my friends in Flatland. Eagle Peak's summit is roughly a mile and a half as the crow flies from Longmire, and 3000' above it. A 3.7 mile trail to the saddle between Eagle and Chutla is maintained, but the more adventuresome hiker may wish to scramble the last 400' to the summit over rough rock and one ledge. I've done it many times despite being a little too short for some of the stretches, especially on the descent. That said, Eagle is but a foothill, a bump in the terrain compared to 14,410' Mount Rainier only a few more miles away. Anybody want to take a lunchtime lichen walk with me?

The Gardening Bug

Day 169: Is there a 12-step program for gardeners? I have the gardening bug, big-time. It seems like I can't go to town without something following me home. Today I laid in a new bark bed and planted it with two prostrate junipers (foreground). Two blue junipers will fill in empty spots beside the driveway, and the Periwinkle will sprawl in the corner with my "smiley-face" boulder (a natural crack makes the rock look like it's grinning). Then I must be counselled to patience as I wait for the hardy fuchsias to arrive at the nursery. I have a spot for just one more...or maybe two (she said with a wink).

Cladonia Fimbriata, Trumpet Lichen

Day 168: First off, let me say that my identification of this species as Cladonia fimbriata is tentative and based solely on field characteristics. The Cladonias can be rather tricky, and when most show no reaction to the common C and K chemical tests, they cannot be differentiated in the kitchen laboratory. Narrow trumpets, powdery soredia, lack of podetial squamules and even cup margins would seem to classify it as fimbriata, but without anything to confirm my suspicions, I will not be adding this image to my photographic lichen database. That said, my three-mile lichen walk today yielded up two more instances of Pilophorus clavatus and one undeniable Mycoblastus sanguinareus, and therefore it qualifies as a successful excursion.

Amanita Pantherina, US Version

Day 167: Amanita pantherina fruits in both the spring and in the autumn, with a cap which may vary in colour from pale yellow to dark brown. Some field guides for the Pacific Northwest list it as Amanita gemmata because of dissimilarities to the European A. pantherina, but other sources insist that "pantherina" is the correct taxonomy. It is identified by its large white warts and the striations at the margin of the cap, and upon closer analysis, a snug cup (volva) with a free rim at the base of the stem (stipe). It is common on southwest Washington prairies, and although it is poisonous to humans and dogs, it is eaten by deer.

Camo Chorus

Day 166: Yesterday, I mentioned the variation of colour one might expect to see in specimens of Pseudacris regilla (aka Pacific Chorus Frog, Pacific Treefrog). Here is an example. Identifiable by the shape of the head/snout and facial markings, this little feller must have emerged from the mud only recently. Its skin has not had time to adapt to exposure to sunlight. If you look closely, you can see where a few patches of bright green are beginning to appear on its side just above the arch of the thigh. Whether an instinctive response prompted this specimen to perch on brown wood as opposed to my previous example's settling on green moss is speculative at best, but is an interesting thought to entertain.

Hopping Down The Yelm-Tenino Trail

Day 165: "Here comes Mister Froggy-tail, Hopping down the Yelm-Tenino Trail..." Well, with a little license taken as to his activity and position (he was sitting on a log in a swamp beside the trail), he was nonetheless a cheerful sight. I'd wound up in Yelm despite my best-laid plans and was making the best of a bad thing with a seven-mile walk. Why seven miles? One, because I didn't get started until 1:30 and two, because that distance took me to the place where I was most likely to find froggy models. In fact, I found two. The other was dark brown in colour, presumably because it was newly emerged from winter protection. These frogs' colouration is highly variable depending on the amount of light falling on specialized photo-receptor cells in their skin. Unlike chamaeleons, the change in frogs takes place over weeks instead of minutes. (Pacific Chorus Frog, Pseudacris regilla)

Getting Down And Dirty

Day 164: It's time to get down and dirty at my house! I darted out between rain showers today to add two juniper tams ("Furzee") and one more pink heather to the new bed, an extension of the barked area beside my driveway of almost 100%. As soon as they become available, I'll pick out one more hardy fuchsia to keep the hummingbirds happy, and I may add another Lithodora for colour.

Planted last year, Lithodora "Grace Ward" held a few of its intensely blue flowers all winter long, something which recommends it highly. It's not easy to find colour in winter, and the bright blue eyes of this mounding groundcover are a cheering sight on a chilly day. The evergreen leaves are reminiscent of rosemary, though much more closely packed and slightly furry. In summer, it becomes a mat of brilliant blue as it puts on new growth. I was happy to see that it took readily to living in one of the colder corners of Zone 7, and even if I don't install another plant in the new bed, there are several other spots in my yard where it would be quite content.

Platismatia Stenophylla, Ribbon Rag Lichen

Day 163: Several times as I've walked the loop trail at Tahoma Woods, this beautiful specimen has caught my eye, but by the time I've returned home, I've invariably forgotten about it. Yesterday during my "Intro to Mount Rainier's Vascular Plants" walk, one of my companions noticed it and put me on the spot for an identification. Caught out, I tucked a small sample in my pocket for analysis, but had left the camera in the car, the better to keep a good pace for the group. Today I returned to the site and discovered to my delight that in the short span of a few rainy hours, the lichen's foliose portions had not only reconstituted but had "bloomed" with apothecia.

The Platismatias are known as "rag lichens," and most are very soft and floppy. Platismatia stenophylla is no exception. The margins of its lobes tend to curl inward on themselves, forming channels. Pick one up, and you'll understand their common name. They are as limp as a wet dishrag. This species in particular forms graceful mounds such as the one shown here. It did require analysis under the microscope to determine that it was not the similar Platismatia herrei, but no isidia or soredia were present, confirming that it was indeed Ribbon Rag, and a new addition to my lichen research project photo files.

They Dew It Well

Day 162: I had something a little different on my work schedule today: giving an introduction to lower forest zone plants to two young interns (rangers) from the Park's Education program and their immediate supervisor. Perforce, much of my discussion was about lichens, although I did cover the adaptations seen in both lichens and bryophytes with respect to being able to capture even the slightest moisture to good advantage. That said, these fine folk learned what it is to see the world through the Crow's Eye, and I doubt they'll ever look at a piece of bark or a mossy log in quite the same way again.

Share The Trail

Day 161: Spring has sprung, and that means the herps and amphibians will be out enjoying the warmer weather just like the rest of us who like to take walks on the Bud Blancher Trail. This little Northern Alligator Lizard (Elgaria coerulea) was going hell-bent-for-leather across the path and only paused long enough for me to get a photo. Fairly common in the Pacific Northwest, this lizard prefers the damp forest, but is frequently found around house foundations, under flower pots or sheltering beneath buckets, birdbaths, trash bins or any other object which provides a hideout. I usually find one or two inside the house every year, sometimes even in my kitchen sink. Like many other lizards, Northern Alligator is able to regrow its tail, a process well into development on this specimen.

Eurasian Invader

Day 160: Having recently extended its range into Washington, Eurasian Collared Doves (Streptopelia decaocto) are appearing at backyard feeders (including mine) in growing numbers. This introduced species has not yet been classified as "invasive" to the best of my knowledge, but its hardiness is allowing it to out-compete native species such as Mourning Doves in many localities. It hasn't made a marked decrease in the number of Band-Tailed Pigeons in my yard, though.

Enchoria Lacteata On Coltsfoot

Day 159: It always pleases me when one of my photos is added to BugGuide.net's database. Over fifty of them have been used so far. Many times, I have been unable to identify "bug du jour," but their entomologists nearly always come through for me. In the case of Enchoria lacteata, I have been trying to capture it photographically for several years, only to have my targets fly away, disturbed by my presence.

Enchoria lacteata does not have a common name. It is a Geometrid moth, with a wingspan of approximately 3/4". The species has a particular fondness for Petasites palmatus (Coltsfoot), which was blooming when I took a walk on the Bud Blancher Trail a few days ago. As a matter of fact, this fine specimen was sharing the same umbel as the Bumblebee I posted recently.

A Contradiction

Day 158: It always amuses me that 80% of the violet species in the Pacific Northwest aren't even vaguely purple. I can't help wondering why their common names don't reflect that. We do have a few in the lavender range, but the most common ones are all butter-yellow like little Viola glabella here who finally popped up in my yard to welcome spring. I haven't seen any above 1500' yet, but it won't be long now!

Don't Bug Me, I'm Bee-zy!

Day 157: The Coltsfoot (Petasites palmatus) is coming into bloom, drawing all sorts of winged insects to its flowers. Don't ask me why. I find the scent rather off-putting, but the bugs love it. I counted two butterfly species, at least half a dozen different wasps, assorted flies and midges, a single Cranefly, mosquitoes and this beautiful bumblebee which was dusted all over with grains of pollen. An industrious worker, the bee remained on the umbel while I took pictures and then continued to pose for a woman with a cell phone camera even when she moved up close. Insects weren't the only things out and about. I discovered a tick walking on her dog's nose, and our attention shifted from Bumble as we combined forces to effect removal.

Mycoblastus Sanguinarius, Bloody Heart

Day 156: The difficulty in accurately identifying Bloody Heart Lichen (Mycoblastus sanguinarius) is that it has a look-alike in its relative, M. affinis and both occur in the Pacific Northwest. To further add to the difficulty of making a positive ID, not all examples of M. sanguinarius have the characteristic red pigment at the base of their apothecia, visible when cut in half from top to base. When confronted with atypical specimens, it is easy to misidentify them as affinis.

I was unaware of this issue until I discovered a research paper from the National Institute of Health yesterday. In fact, the paper suggested that many examples identified as affinis were in fact its sanguine cousin. The ones I was finding around Longmire showed no pigmentation, but did not entirely conform to the profile for affinis, either. I felt certain that they were sanguinarius, so I set out on a snowy mission. Halfway to Cougar Rock, I found my target species. It was quite gratifying to see the bloody heart of this dot lichen revealed upon being sectioned with my thumbnail.

Rhubarb Uprising

Day 155: Last summer, one of my Park friends asked me if I wanted some rhubarb roots after presenting me with a jar of rhubarb jam. I said yes, and she brought down one enormous clump in a box just as we were about to enter a spell of hot weather. I sectioned the root mass into two parts with skill and precision, which is to say I took a sharp-bladed shovel to the middle of it on the premise that if one half died, the other would probably survive, and bedded them in behind the house, lavishly watered. It took a few days before something sidetracked me and I forgot completely about their needs in time of stress, and the next time I looked at them (maybe two weeks later), they were in a sad state. This is typical of my gardening. I plant it, and if it survives my lackadaisical caregiving, it's all well and good. If it dies, I plant something different. Rhubarb is tough stuff, hard to kill even when you try. Both roots survived, and are now putting up stems and leaves. Hopefully, they'll do double duty, serving both as ingredients for pie and jam as well as shading out a few survivors of my ministrations which I wish I hadn't planted in the first place.

Forsythia Defender

Day 154: Misumena vatia (Crab Spider)was identified for me by a friend who knows about such things. Me, I steer as widely as possible from anything with eight legs, so I nearly jumped out of my skin when part of the forsythia stepped forward for its portrait. It's not that I'm afraid of spiders, although it took a while for me to decondition myself from a dread instilled by my mother who panicked at the sight of even a small one. She grew up in Black-Widow country, so you could hardly blame her. Still, I like some warning that an encounter is forthcoming. If they take me by surprise, I freak. It's an odd thing for a naturalist to admit, but although I know they're helpful in the garden, I don't really like them.

Heather

Day 153: Among the ground covers I've added to the garden over the last two years were several heathers, selected primarily because they were a lovely shade of dusty lavender. I was surprised to find that not one of them kept its original colour. Some have faded to white while others have reverted to the pink one typically expects of heather. Why? At first I suspected that the roots had taken up some of the dye in the bark mulch I applied to the bed. That accounted for the blush which appeared on some, but leaves me without a reason for the others to have lost their colour entirely. I am not aware that heather is sensitive to soil pH like some other plants are (hydrangea, for example), and in any event, a similar response should have been noted in all examples if that was the case. "Curiouser and curiouser," said Alice.

A Rainbow For Sande

Day 152: The memorial service for my fishing buddy Sande was held today at his church, and we were fortunate to get through it with power. It was very windy when I drove into town, large branches flying across the roads, traffic signals not working, rain coming down in buckets, barrels and bathtubs, 150' Douglas firs bending almost to the breaking point, and the sky almost black. It had subsided somewhat by the time I left, the sun breaking through a narrow gap just long enough to create a rainbow against the dark clouds. It seemed symbolic, given the circumstances. Is it any wonder that rainbows feature in so many mythologies? They make us look up when we are downcast and dispirited.

Fritillaria Meleagris

Day 151: The newest addition to my garden is Fritillaria meleagris, also known (for obvious reasons) as "Checkered Lily." While this species is a cultivated import from Europe, it has several cousins native to the state. Fritillaria affinis has smaller flowers and can be found on the prairies of southwest Washington among other locations. It has a scent which I devoutly hope is absent in meleagris, musty and mushroomy, and I do not mean that in a good way. Still, meleagris has such a lovely and unusual flower that even if its fragrance turns out to be less than desirable, it shouldn't be noticeable unless sniffed at close quarters.

Hellebore

Day 150: Hellebore really might be considered part of the "winter" garden since it begins to bloom around Christmastime, but its common name of "Lenten Rose" implies that it is at its best near Easter. This year, mine is living up to its moniker, in full flower now with at least fifty nodding heads. My camera doesn't like to portray it in true colour which is more of a dusty, rosy dark lavender, "black" to the nursery trade. The individual flowers are 3-4 inches in width, and quite a display en masse.

Cheery Little Grape Hyacinth

Day 149: They're such mundane little flowers, grape hyacinths, but they always bring a bit of cheer to the early garden. Never mind that wind and rain were "weather du jour," I just dragged out a little sunshine from my bag of special-effects tricks. I'm pleased to see a number of other flowers beginning to raise their heads. The daffodils are showing colour at their tips, and the dogwood is covered with a million tiny buds. The hardy fuchsias are beginning to show new growth on old wood. It won't be long before the garden is a riot of bloom!

An Elegant Script

Day 148: I've always thought of myself as a keen observer of Nature, but in following my passion for lichens, I've discovered a vast, miniature world I never knew existed, and in places I've visited hundreds of times. Take Graphis scripta, for example. This photo shows it much larger than life, and in the Cowlitz Wildlife area where I was hiking a few days ago, it is abundant on almost every Red Alder in the forest. The lirellae seldom measure more than 5 mm. in length and here, few exceed 3 mm., yet in places, they are so dense as to appear almost solidly black. In others, they may cover much of the lower six feet or so of any given tree trunk in the graceful, uniform distribution shown here. The same abundance is true of Ochrolechia laevigata, one of the disk lichens. What else have I missed by not looking closely enough at my surroundings? What other beauties have been right under my nose?

Cardamine Nuttallii, Bittercress

Day 147: Poor little Cardamine! Every year when I find it, I say to myself, "Uh-oh, I've forgotten what that is again." I then proceed to go through the alphabet mentally, "A, B, C...okay, it has a C in it..." but I don't pick up the cue until I get to "N...it has an N...Na, Ne, Ni, No, Nu...Nub, Nuc, Nud..." until at last I come to "Nut! Nuttallii! Cardamine nuttallii!" I retrieve other "lost words" in similar fashion with great success, although why I don't get it when I say "Ca..." is a mystery.

This photo was also taken during the Great Skunk Cabbage Expedition, although in a different location and before the rain began in earnest. I got a little muddy on a short hike through the Cowlitz Wildlife lands near Mossyrock Dam, but in addition to the Cardamine, I found the most lavish example of Graphis scripta hieroglyphics I've encountered to date, but that's for my next post. Stay tuned for tomorrow's episode of "Life In Lichenopolis."

Down In The Swamp

Day 146:  In need of something to occupy my thoughts and energies, I went out searching for subject matter to honour the First Day of Skunk Cabbage, and found it behind Swofford Pond. Never mind that the weather was a bit inclement; I had Purpose, and that is not to be denied. There I was, in my knee-high muck boots midway across the bog setting up the tripod when the cloudburst arrived. It had been a tricky crossing, swamps being what they are, filled with spots which look like solid ground but aren't, so a hasty retreat to the cover of a large cedar tree a hundred feet away was not an option. Hoping that the squall would pass, I shielded the lens with my hands and continued my work. The rain pounded down, but at last I was satisfied that I'd gotten a good angle on Uncle Skunk and made my way back across mossy logs and islands of bunched sticks, stepping gingerly as I assessed my footing. The potential for mishap was high, but none occurred, and predictably, just as I reached the shelter of the car, the canopy of cloud opened to reveal blue sky. Such is the work of a naturalist, and I wouldn't have it any other way.

Fishing Buddies

 Day 145: I don't have very many photos of my fishing buddy Sande, and even fewer of the two of us together. We were always too busy pulling in fish to take time out to pose. For almost a decade, we fished the local waters at least one day per week, year-'round and despite the weather. Then as his health began to fail, the trips grew more and more infrequent, and ceased altogether after this photo was taken in 2013 shortly after his admittance to a care center.

We met under unusual circumstances. I was fishing in one of my accustomed spots and saw a man working his way toward me along a stretch of closed water. I mistook him for a poacher, just as he mistook me for a small Asian man until he got within speaking distance. I'd been ready to read him the riot act, but instead, invited him to fish beside me. The fish were being reluctant that morning (a cold, windy March day), but eventually I hooked what promised to be a whopper. As I was reeling it in, playing it carefully so that it wouldn't break my light line, my new acquaintance edged toward me. Worried that he was going to try to be "helpful" with the landing, I horsed my fish, got it stuck in the rocks at my feet, and -ping!- the line parted. It was then that I made a foolish move and tried to grab it. My foot hit a slick, round rock and I plunged face-first into the lake, emerging with nothing dry but one small spot on the back of my head which had been protected by my hat.

Since I lived nearby, I told my companion I was going to go home and change clothes, but before I could leave, he hooked and landed a nice trout. No fisherman walks away when the Bite is on, so I stayed, shivering and wet. Sande, gentleman that he was, gave me his jacket, and the two of us fished until we had our limits. On the way back to our cars, he said, "Would you consider going fishing with me again some time?" I replied, "I think I'd like that, yes." Thus began our friendship.

On another occasion during a telephone conversation, he revealed to me that he'd gone fishing without me, and had landed two nice salmon in one of our favourite spots. I was feeling rather put out that he hadn't invited me along, but even moreso when he added, "...and then I thought, 'What do I need her for?'" Now totally wounded, I was so deeply steeped in self-pity that it took several minutes for his next sentence to register: "...and then I woke up." He had been relating a dream!

Such was his sense of humour, filled with "gotchas" where you least expected them. He could lead you on for hours before dropping the bomb which let you know your leg had been pulled halfway to the moon. He was notorious for his jokes wherever he went, whether it was at a fishing hole or in the grocery store, but he was never unkind and seldom spoke harshly of anyone or anything.

Several years ago, he was diagnosed with Parkinson's disease. Yesterday morning, I received a call from one of his daughters saying that he was failing. I drove down to be at his bedside, holding his hand as he slipped quietly from life.

Indian Plum, Oemleria Cerasiformis

Day 144: One of the earliest spring blooms, Indian Plum (Oemleria cerasiformis) is a twiggy deciduous shrub common in western Washington. Also called "Oso Berry," it bears small oval fruits in a cluster, pale when immature and reddish-black when ripe. Although the fruit is considered edible, it is rather bitter and best left for the birds.

Making A Determination

Day 143: It's taken me three days to make a final determination as to the identity of this unusual Cladonia based on field characteristics alone. I lack the reagents which would give me conclusive results for this particular species, but given that it does not conform to all the physical characteristics any other option, I have placed it as Cladonia ecmocyna, which in any event is highly variable. Some squamules are visible on the podetia; podetia are pointed and frequently browned; the apothecia are infrequent and brown; narrow cups do form at some podetial tips.

I believe I may have mentioned this before, but I think one of the things which attracted me to the study of lichens is the exotic vocabulary which accompanies them. Words like "pruina" or "pseudocyphellae" don't crop up in just any conversation, but if I'm given the chance, you'll hear them fall from my tongue as smoothly as if they were poetry. In fact, if you were following along behind me secretly on a walk in the woods, you'd hear me muttering them to myself as I survey the surrounding lichenscape, describing it aloud to no one in particular. If you tailed me long enough, though, you might hear the one botanizing phrase I most enjoy using, the precise and highly technical expression I voiced when I encountered the (presumed) Cladonia ecmocyna in Longmire Campground. Nothing excites me more than having a chance to say, "What the hell is THAT?"

Pilophorus Comparison

Day 142: Matchstick lichens are relatively uncommon, and only two species occur in the Pacific Northwest. Both of them can be found within a five-minute walk of the Longmire Administration Building. They are among the first to colonize freshly broken rock such as that shattered in laying roads or building trails. Pilophorus acicularis (Devil's Matchstick, top) can often be found growing on vertical surfaces, its hair-like podetia topped by shiny black, almost round apothecial knobs. Pilophorus clavatus (Tapered Matchstick) presents apothecia which are longer and more club-like than those of its cousin. Both species are quite small (usually under an inch long) and may be difficult to spot even when the viewer is in close proximity.

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.

Lobaria Oregana, Lettuce Lung Lichen

Day 140: Several varieties of Lung Lichen grow in abundance in the lowlands of the rainy Pacific Northwest. Lobaria oregana is one of the most common; in fact, one source states that in an optimum habitat, it may attain a biomass equivalent to 1 ton per hectare. This species can be distinguished by its unique colour and a lavish fringe of lobules embellishing its margins. Like other Lobarias, Lettuce Lung is pollution-sensitive, and thrives in the clear air of old-growth forest. Generally found on coniferous trees, it may also colonize deciduous species.