Just Plain Adorable

Day 84: No matter how dreary the day (and believe me, they've been pretty dismal for the last couple of weeks), it is impossible to be glum when you have Chickadees around. I have to admit to a fondness for birbs (little round birds) of all sorts: chickadees, nuthatches, bushtits, titmouses (titmice?), kinglets, siskins, wrens, creepers, and even warblers, although the "wobblers" annoy me because all too often I can only hear and not see them, but 'dee-dees hold a special place in my heart because they're so friendly. It took me years to coax them into my yard, but once they'd established themselves and claimed their territory, it wasn't long before I literally had them eating out of my hand. They made themselves rather scarce during the summer months, but once cooler weather arrived, both Black-capped and Chestnut-backed (above) returned to the yard in droves. Some remembered me from years past and immediately took seed from my palm, although the newbies in the group held back, waiting to see if I was a bird-getter. To date, we have not had snow, but I'm hopeful because food scarcity tends to make bold even the most timid 'dee.

Forest Zombies

Day 83: This is how spooky stories begin: hands clawing up through the soil, wrinkled and darkened skin peeling back in shreds, yellow fingernails overgrown and seeking out victims. The Forest Zombies are coming to get you! You have to admit that the Peltigeras have a corner on "creepy" when it comes to their morphology, but the "fingernails" are in fact the apothecia (spore-producing structures) of these common lichens. Some "Pelts" are difficult to tell apart. Others, like Peltigera membranacea (Membranous Dog-lichen, above) are fairly easy, with naked-eye observation of the rhizines (root-like structures on the back of the lobes) being definitive. You should be able to tell it from any others, at least if you're brave enough to get close to a Forest Zombie.

Polytrichum Juniperinum, Juniper Haircap Moss

Day 82: "Little trees." That's what I thought they were when I was very young. I spent a lot of my childhood in the woods, alone and unsupervised, with only the injunction that I be home before dark. Childhood was very different in those days, and if I am grateful for any part of my life, it is for that. My love of botany grew from such things as these "little trees," which I later learned were a moss. Which moss they were has eluded me until now. Mosses are not easy to identify, but you would think that one this common might be featured on the cover of any guide to mosses of the Pacific Northwest. Unfortunately, that hasn't been the case, and I had only been able to determine that it was some kind of "haircap," not conversant with the very specialized vocabulary surrounding bryophytes. Finally, with the aid of a glossary and a few reliable, authoritative websites, I have decided that it is Polytrichum juniperinum, Juniper Haircap Moss. I could be wrong, but at this stage of my life, that's just gonna have to do.

Cat Dancer

Day 81: Welcome to 2025. The look on Merry's face expresses some of the emotions I'm feeling about the coming year: curiosity, anxiety, puzzlement, the sense that something strange is about to happen, and that despite my best efforts to control an unpredictable situation, what comes next is going to have no bearing on anything I do. I wish it was going to be as entertaining as his Cat Dancer, but I have my doubts about that.

The Cat Dancer was a present from one of his east-coast aunties, and is proving to be even more fun than Stick. Stick requires mama's active participation. The Cat Dancer does not. I simply have to hold one end of the wire (springy piano wire), and Merry does the rest. As he bats the twisted cardboard lure around, it comes back to get him from unanticipated directions and is light enough that it doesn't hurt if it baps him on the nose. He leaps for it when it goes high, grabs it when it goes low, but as soon as it slips out of his hands, it bounces out of reach. He gets a lot more jumping exercise than with Stick, a good thing because he's getting a bit portly. At nine months old today, he weighs over 12 pounds...quite a contrast to the little "teacup cat" I brought home in June.