Killing Frost

Day 14: We've had our first "killing frost," 26° F to be exact (that's -3.5° C to you metric types). Any delicate plants are done for, tender annuals terminated, and the coup de grace has been delivered to the vegetable garden, but over there on the fence, the bryophytes are demonstrating what it takes to survive in a harsh world. How do they manage? The secret lies in the ability of their tissues to husband sugars. When frost draws moisture out of them in a way which would kill most other plants, it serves to concentrate the sugars within mosses and lichens, thereby lowering the freezing point. Cold-hardy plants utilize this same strategy, although most of them aren't as good at it as the bryos. You can't help but admire the evolutionary process here. A bit of vegetation we deem "primitive" is better equipped to withstand climate extremes than we are. That should make you re-think your position in the scheme of things, shouldn't it?

Lichens Vs. Mosses

Day 98: Ignoring the Douglas-fir branches, one of these two clumps of green matter is a plant and the other one is not. Do you know the difference between lichen and moss? Bryophytes (mosses) are a simple form of plant life, with structures which fulfill the same functions as the leaves, roots and stems of more well-developed plants. Mosses contain chloroplasts throughout their bodies, while lichens only have chloroplasts in the algal layer on their outer surfaces. On the other hand, a lichen is a symbiotic organism comprised of fungus, algae/cyanobacteria and yeast, each component providing something vital to the survival of the whole. The fungus gives the lichen its shape and aids in moisture retention, while the alga/cyanobacteria provides photosynthesis and contributes nutrients in a form the fungus can utilize. The role of the yeast in lichen is not fully understood, although some research suggests that it helps ward off disease. Although many lichens resemble mosses in outward appearance, they are truly quite different.

Captive Drops

Day 11: Moss and other bryophytes are non-vascular plants. What does that mean, exactly? Unlike vascular plants which have a structure of xylem vessels to assist in the internal transport of water, mosses are comprised of specialized but simpler tissues which absorb water by osmosis. It therefore behooves the plant to husband available moisture whenever possible. Mosses can survive prolonged dry spells because of their ability to utilize even minimal amounts of atmospheric moisture. Mosses do not have true roots. They attach to their substrate by means of fine rhizines similar to those found in some lichens. These rhizines do not absorb moisture or transport nutrients as true roots do; they simply anchor the moss to a surface. While most species reproduce by solely by sporulation (the production of spores), others are known to clone themselves by means of asexual reproduction. Although primitive in nature, mosses have derived a solid survival strategy which has allowed them to be present on the Earth for at least 300 million years in forms similar to those we see today.

Bryo Cryo

Day 53: It's cold. Okay, it's only Pacific-Northwest cold, not East-Coast cold, but it's all a matter of what constitutes "normal" for the residents of any given area. I'm sure somebody in Florida would classify 40 degrees as "cold," 30 degrees as "damn cold" and 25 degrees as "cold enough to freeze the balls off a brass monkey," but here in the PNW, 22 degrees is cold enough to justify complaining. Let it drop into the teens, and we go into full-blown weather cursing. Now I happen to know that there are a lot of people out there who believe that colder winters disprove global warming, but they are confusing two non-interchangeable terms. "Weather" is what we get daily. It rains, it snows, we have a dry spell or a heatwave. That's "weather." Climate change is, in a short definition, a long-term shift in norms, e.g., a shift toward lower annual rainfall or hotter summers charted over decades or even centuries. There may be some backsliding in the graph, downturns when an unusually wet summer seems to make up for 20 years of dried-out lakes and glacial retreat, but when viewed from farther back temporally, a shift becomes obvious. Climate and weather are not the same thing, and while thousands may lose their lives in a meteorological event like a flood, a global shift in climate will make its effects known on all living creatures.

Diversity And Cooperation

Day 361: Diversity and cooperation make the world both beautiful and complex. One has only to look at a 6" x 6" piece of tree bark in one of the Pacific Northwest's damp forests to see both principles in operation. Species co-exist in a variety of cooperative relationships, and none represents partnership any more strongly than the family of lichens. Pairing in numerous combinations of algae, fungus and yeast, lichens exhibit a wealth of forms and survival strategies. Maybe humans should take a lesson from Nature. Just sayin'.

It's A Jungle Out There

Day 24: "Leaf" them lay! The fall and subsequent decay of healthy leaves provides nutrition and shelter for a wide variety of small ground-living organisms, and if left to decompose naturally, serves as a mulch against weeds. The coarser materials add texture to soil. If you don't like the appearance of a blanket of leaves, hit 'em a lick with a mulching mower. If that doesn't fit into your urban lifestyle, go ahead and rake them, but compost them over the winter and add them back into your garden in the spring. Make good use of Ma Nature's gifts!

Faerie Folk

Day 147: In 1917, two young cousins Elsie Wright and Frances Griffiths created a series of glass-plate photographs depicting what they claimed were faeries. Today, we would not be fooled by the cardboard cutouts they used as models, but at the time, the experts at Kodak could find no evidence that the images had been faked. This, of course, was quite true in the strictest sense; they showed exactly what the girls had set up to be photographed. Arthur Conan Doyle, author of the Sherlock Holmes mysteries and an ardent spiritualist, accepted them with little reservation. Oddly, belief in the Cottingley Faeries persisted until the late 20th century when the cousins finally admitted to their ruse.

Today, it is much easier to find real faerie folk dancing in wooded glens and among the mosses. Simply go walking in the forest on a sunny day and watch for the flash of their tiny wings. But be cautious! They do not like being photographed and will dart away before you can click the shutter. 

A Shortage Of Snow

Day 136: I'd like to dedicate this photo to my friends on the East Coast who may not see green until August. While record snow accumulations are plaguing them, the Pacific Northwest and notably Mount Rainier have the opposite problem: we're short on the white stuff. Paradise has a mere 60 inches on the ground, there's none at Longmire, and from what I could see from the Westside Road, it's just patchy at Indian Henrys. It's not warm temperatures alone. Precipitation has been minimal. It will be interesting to see how low snowpack will affect the wildflower season.

Nature's Not-So-Straight Lines

Day 41: They say there is no such thing as a straight line in nature, and of course that's strictly true. For example, pine needles look straight to the eye, but in fact they curve gently to a point on each end. Nature's beauty lies in its fluidity of line, perceptible or imperceptible, a subtle flow which leads the eye from one point to another. However, there are times when Nature plays games with us, offering up the illusion of straight lines without compromising her artistic principles. When I first spotted this blanket of moss and lichen, the scratch tracks Tip leaves in the carpet when he sharpens his claws came to mind. Straight lines they are not, but they certainly give an impression of alignment.

Cache Success

Day 295: Although I don't do a lot of geocaching these days other than when I'm out in the kayak, I do like to keep up on the few which get hidden on my own turf. Last week, I attempted to find the dreaded "micro in the woods" twice at this lovely hidden waterfall, but had no success on either day. Today, with a better hint from the out-of-towner who hid the cache, I achieved my goal. As you can tell, the weather was substantially cooler than a week ago, and slightly damp. Crawling around on wet moss and slip-sliding on slick rocks is all part of the game. No dip in the plunge pool today, but I'll be back!

Sad Story

Day 203: I don't happen to know the legend depicted by this story pole, if indeed it tells a genuine tale, but the characters are prominent figures in local history. The base shows Coyote, a mischief-loving prankster who often matched wits with Raven who, although almost obscured by moss, surmounts Bear in the center. I can't immediately recall a legend which involves the three together, but I'm sure there must be a few. I do remember when the pole was freshly carved and newly painted, and being sad when we drove by one day years later and it was laying on its back as if waiting for the forest to reclaim its heart of cedar. I was glad when persons unknown stood it upright again and retouched the peeling paint, to have it reestablished as a landmark on the road to Mount Rainier, a mile or so outside the Nisqually gate. I did not notice the moss encroaching until one sunny morning it caught my eye and I remarked in passing, "Dang, that shapeshifter Raven's gone and got himself a green bill. I see you, Raven. You're not fooling me! You're not a Grosbeak." But Raven never shed his disguise. In fact, it kinda grew on him until his whole head was green.

As is the case with many creative works, this tale wanted external support. The characters, although strong, could not stand without a hefty plotline to back them up. Hmmmm...I think I just came to the moral of the story while on that last quest for metaphor. That's Raven for you: leading you to your own conclusions.

Rainforest Microcosm

Day 136: The forests of the Pacific Northwest are rich with moisture-loving plants, and none fits that description as well as moss (generically speaking). Both the "leaves" and sporophytes have evolved in such a manner that they hold drops of water (rain or dew), allowing the plants to utilize dissolved nutrients. Truly, a patch of moss is a microecology unto itself. The sporophytes shown here are approximately one inch tall.

Boundary Trail, Tahoma Woods

Day 118: When the forecast rain hadn't materialized by 10:30 AM, I decided to seize the day and go for a walk. In so doing, I discovered a trail I hadn't known existed on the north and east sides of Park Headquarters at Tahoma Woods. The forest floor was lush with some type of step moss (bryology is a sea in which I do not swim at all well) and my poor little point-and-shoot camera, carried instead of the SX30 IS, recorded the melange of winter greens and browns with a warm wash, warping the photographic temperature toward an unnatural yellow hue. But it was not the color I wanted to capture. It was the complexity of the environment I hoped to portray, and I found that tone-mapping and converting the image to "box camera" served my purpose best. Here, you can see each scale of bark, each ferny frond of moss without the distraction of color. It makes me wonder if perhaps color vision isn't inferior after all.

Calypso Creek Fantasy

Day 337: As the dry season comes to an end, tiny Calypso Creek threads its way through Longmire Campground with but a memory of springtime's orchids dancing along its margins. Its hearty May chuckle has matured into a demure smile not unlike that of the Mona Lisa; a secret is at the heart of the matter, one which leaves us guessing. It winds among mossy rocks, playing the coquette, tapping stick and stone upon the shoulder, running quickly to hide around the next turn. Somewhere along its length, a frog calls, a sound stilled by the softest footfall. Beetles cross its width on fragile twigs and burrow themselves deeply in lichen, safe after a perilous passage. It speaks in color: green, green, green, and in so many tones they could not be counted. Calypso is the life of this small and intimate forest, its integrity, and soon the rains will come and set its heartbeat pulsing young and strong again.