Day 102: Platismatia glauca - pale greenish-grey, often turning pink with age; ascending and irregular lobes 3-20 mm. wide, margins often with abundant granular soredia/isidia; habitat: Douglas-fir and spruce forest, esp. on branches; apothecia rare.
(I might as well warn you right now that this is going to be a long read, and it's not a natural-history post. Proceed at your own discretion, and learn a little more about the Crow.)
The first paragraph of this post is a sample of the type of writing I will be doing for the portion of the Burke Herbarium's image gallery which includes lichens: bald facts inserted into a template as tidily as possible. It's not creative writing. It's Science, plain and concise. This "new gig" (as one friend termed it) comes about as a result of a casual inquiry I made to the collection manager about adding a description to four lichen photos I'd just uploaded. Very few of the lichen species in the gallery are described scientifically as yet, so in response, he suggested that if I was willing, he could open that portion of the database to me. I agreed, and will be starting work on the project shortly.
This was an exciting development from my point of view. I was thrilled with the prospect of having another venue in which to further education of the public as to the wonders of natural history, but I let my enthusiasm get somewhat ahead of my thoughts when I posted the news on social media. I did not consider that most of my readers might think the "Burke Gallery" was an elegant building parked somewhere on the University of Washington campus; I simply assumed that they would know it was a web page. I also assumed that they would realize that this was yet another volunteer project. I was surprised this morning by a collection of congratulatory comments from people who assumed there was a certain amount of prestige attached to the job. I was also stunned when one person commented, "Finally a paying gig! Now you'll be a published author!" Waitaminit, sez I to self, and I started immediately composing a partial retraction to set the record straight.
First of all, I already am a published author. My works have appeared in a few small publications and one notable one, the latter yielding a whole $50 in payment, not once, but twice. So there. I am not only a published author, I am a PAID published author! But that's beside the point, and actually in conflict with the nature of this post.
Those close to me will have heard me say at some point or another that I don't believe in money. I don't. It's an artifical construct, and it's been responsible for much of the world's woes since some nitwit invented it. It's arguable whether my disbelief in the monetary principle originated from never really having had much contact with non-vegetative green stuff, but that also is neither here nor there. The fact of the matter is that I have lived on the margin of poverty almost my entire life, sometimes on one side of the divide and sometimes on the other. Since being forced onto Social Security, my income has placed me anywhere from a dollar and a half to twenty-five dollars above the level of eligibility for any type of public assistance. I lead, as have many naturalists before me, a hand-to-mouth existence, but the bottom line is that I am doing what I love at a cost I am willing to accept.
Let's back up to that "paying gig" comment again. I have to say that I am puzzled as to why the idea of doing anything for free with an eye to the greater good is so far beyond the grasp of so many people. Perhaps it's because as an impoverished member of society, I was restricted from accessing such privileges as a higher education that I now feel that knowledge, particularly knowledge of the natural world, should be readily available to every man, woman and child on the planet. Who knows what brilliant mind out there might be too focused on finding a reliable food source to be pondering a cure for cancer? The assumption is that the poor are stupid. Why? Because they're not making money. Thus, they are limited in how far they can elevate themselves academically (as I was), and because they have no credentials with which to obtain a position, they are caught in a vicious circle. I was fortunate in that certain people in the Park accepted me as knowledgeable even without a string of letters after my name. Okay, acceptance in the Park doesn't buy groceries, but as I said, I'm doing what I love even when the table is bare.
Money aside, neither am I concerned with prestige, although I have to admit to being thoroughly jazzed at the thought of being the Burke's "lichen writer." My name will not appear as a by-line in any obvious context. If you wish to see how many lichen descriptions I may have authored (none as yet!), you will have to find one of my photos in the gallery and click on my name in order to get a summary of my various contributions, both photographic and descriptive.
That said, I am not without ego, by any stretch of the imagination. Although it will be impossible for me to know that it has occurred, my deepest desire is that some day, someone somewhere will be browsing through Park archives or the Burke, Nisqually Land Trust files or those of the Invasive Plant Council, or even the Bird Phenology Program, and that person will turn to their companions to ask, "Who's this Crow guy whose name keeps popping up?" If one of the companions turns back to that person to reply, "Oh, that was a woman back at the start of the 21st Century. She was instrumental in advancing knowledge of the natural world through her works in several organizations," I will have had all the reward I need.
