Xanthoria Polycarpa

Day 182: Well, fooey. I was in fairly close proximity to Puget Sound yesterday and happened across a dozen or so landscaping trees which were covered in greenish-gold lichen. Xanthoria polycarpa is common in the Pacific Northwest, but a second rarer species (Xanthoria parietina) sometimes occurs in the Willamette-Puget Trough. Knowing this, I decided to pull back into my parking space despite the rain (I'd been pulling out) and have a closer look. You never know, and if you don't check, you might miss something good. Initially, I was impressed with the size of the apothecia on this particular specimen. Then I noticed the size of the lobes. "Hmmmm," sez I. "That's bigger than any polycarpa I ever saw before." I had not brought a hand lens, nor had I brought a container, but I lifted a small sample from the bark and put it in one of the cup-holder slots in the car, reminding myself gently not to put my water bottle back in on top of it. It was the first thing I brought in the house when I got home eight hours later. This morning, I picked off one of the apothecia and did a close inspection under the dissecting scope. Nope, no rhizines at all. Hopes dashed, I was forced to rule out parietina. Drat.

On Nessie's Island

Day 326: Locals will tell you stories about the monster in these waters; "Nessie," they call her, after that more famous monster of Scotland's Loch Ness. Like the Scottish Nessie, no one has any viable proof of her existence, and thus the unbelievers scoff and scorn reports. But I know Nessie is real. A little over five years ago, she nearly gobbled two good friends who had gone to look for a geocache bedded on her spine.

It was March, and even in summer, these deep waters are cold. In March, the winds blow and the whitecaps rise, and the water temperature plummets to just a few degrees above freezing. Jeff and Dan had found the cache and were on their way back, dressed in heavy coats and foul-weather gear, when Nessie rose. She capsized their canoe and plunged them into the frigid waves. They had time to struggle out of some of their gear before the bite of hypothermia set in, blunting their senses, and it was only by great good fortune that a homeowner on the shoreline saw them go over. That samaritan put in a call to 911, and again by a stroke of luck, the firehouse was nearby.

When the two men were pulled from the water, Dan (more heavily fleshed) was coherent. Jeff did not respond. Both were hustled to the hospital. Several hours later, I got a call. Dan was going to be okay, but Jeff was not out of danger.

The following afternoon, Jeff was also released. Neither man remembers much about their experience, and their geocaching logs say simply, "Piece of cake." There are some things you just can't talk about, and an encounter with Nessie ranks high on the list.

Nessie was snoozing when I put into port on her shoulder today. She did not stir when I retrieved the geocache from its position between her vertebrae. But I did not take a single step without having Dan and Jeff at the forefront of my mind.

Shellfish Barge

Day 313: Today I had occasion to go on a nature walk on the Nisqually Land Trust's Hogum Bay property. While most of this holding is forested, it does include a "pocket marsh" and miniature estuary which drain into Puget Sound. Much of our time was spent on the beach where only a stone's throw away, we could see several of the shellfish barges owned by the adjacent processing plant. Evidence of the success of this type of "farming" was apparent all over our beach where mussel, clam and oyster shells lay in a thick carpet. Overhead, an eagle was searching for leftovers, and in the bay, several harbour seals could be seen paddling about. I was surprised, however, at the lack of sea birds and other wildlife on this occasion. Other than one shorebird skittering along the beach, the eagle was the only bird I observed.