Showing posts with label Snowberry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Snowberry. Show all posts

Tuesday, September 24, 2024

Before There Was Bubble Wrap


Day 347: Before there was bubble wrap, there were Snowberries (Symphoricarpos albus). They grew in profusion in the area where I spent my early childhood, so I was taught that they were poisonous as one of my first lessons in botany. I was also shown that despite their negative, they made one of the world's most gratifying sounds when pinched firmly, and I took great joy in popping as many of them as I could find. What is it about that sound which attracts people (the ones without ready access to Snowberries) to pop the bubbles in bubble wrap? Scientific studies tell us the action releases dopamine (a "feel-good" chemical) in the brain. Others simply claim it releases tension and anxiety. I'm inclined to go with the first option since, as a three- or four-year old child, I didn't have a lot of anxieties. The next time your job stresses you out or you feel oppressed by the general state of things, go pop some Snowberries. Or, failing that, try a sheet of bubble wrap.

Thursday, December 22, 2016

How I Spent My Solstice Vacation


Day 70: While I was deciding how I wanted to celebrate Solstice this year, I received an invitation from the Nisqually Land Trust to join a work-party on that day. What better way to spend the occasion than in service to the Earth? My "annual leave" from Park duties parallels Kevin's since I ride up with him, so I had the day free. The project was touted as an "ivy-pull." English ivy is a major problem on many of our properties, but an earlier work party had cut it from the trees at this location (note the dead vines on the big cottonwood on the left), and our task involved removal of new shoots. Sounds fairly easy, right? It might have been, but for a heavy understory of five-foot high Snowberry concealing our quarry. You could never have guessed that six of us were hard at work within a 200-foot diameter circle. In fact, it was so dense that I couldn't see my work-mates even when they were only twenty feet away. The two hidden "Waldos" in this image were working near the river where I had the clearest vantage point to document volunteer attendance for the event.