Wet And Dry

Day 139: These two photos were taken only three days apart, and they point up one of the issues lichenologists have to face when they're trying to make an identification. A specimen can look very different depending on whether it's wet or dry. Lobaria pulmonaria (Lung Lichen), a common species on Mount Rainier National Park's wet west side, is known for its bright green colour and the ridges which texture its lobes. However, when it dries out, it appears almost grey. A rain shower is all it needs to perk it back up, though. Moisture settles into the network on its upper surface and quickly revitalizes the algae which provide its distinctive hue.

Beak Rock

Day 138: As if dislodged from its place of prominence at the top of a story pole, the head of Raven nonetheless observes all who travel on Westside Road. It is not as apparent when going south to north, but walking north to south, the likeness always stops me in my tracks. A shaggy mat of ferny feathers cascades from the crown, casting the eye into mysterious shadow above the stony beak. I half-expect a quork of mountain-rattling proportions to come forth from this spirit's throat, though what I hear is a softer series of vocalizations made far overhead. It is an acknowledgement: we know that you, human, have seen and recognized our ancestor. We will go with you and keep you safe. My walks are frequently accompanied by ravens, but here, I am in a greater presence.

Thelotrema Lepadinum, Bark Barnacles

Day 137: Day before yesterday, my good friend Jean (former campground host in the Park) came up to visit and to take her first walk on Eatonville's Bud Blancher Trail. She also got a predictable introduction to what it means to go lichenizing with me, and served extra duty as penny-holder when I discovered Bark Barnacles on an alder alongside the Little Mashel.

Thelotrema lepadinum is not an uncommon species by any means, but you need a sharp eye to see that those tiny black spots are actually craters at the summits of lichenous mini-volcanoes. They do indeed resemble barnacles on close examination, but be advised that a "big" specimen will be no more than 1 mm. across. A penny-sized section of alder bark may present as much terrain as the face of the moon viewed through a 6-inch telescope!

Secret Falls

Day 136: I thought I'd give my readership a break from lichens for today, although lichenizing was what carried me to this spot. I call this little cascade "Secret Falls" because once the brush grows up, you really have to know where to take a 50-foot detour from the road in order to find it. It's tucked away in a concealed niche just off the Park's Westside Road, and anyone driving by would miss it. Even if you are on foot, the whisper of its passage down the mossy slope is almost lost under the rushing tumult of nearby Tahoma Creek until you are standing close enough to feel its spray. Little sun penetrates here, only a ray or two at the height of the day, casting ephemeral rainbows where surely the wee folk come to bathe. It has no name on any map; it's far too small to be accorded any official dignity, but I for one am glad to have been invited into its confidence.

Peltigera Venosa, Fan Lichen

Day 135: Mount Rainier National Park hosts quite a variety of Pelt lichens, but one I had never recorded was Peltigera venosa, commonly called Fan Lichen. This Peltigera is unique among its fellows in that it exhibits distinct, raised veins on the underside rather than the rhizines (root-like structures) typical of the genus. In fact, it attaches to the substrate with a single rhizine at the very base of the lobe. One of the easiest Pelts to identify, its bright green colour fades to a dreary grey-green in dry conditions. I discovered it along Westside Road while looking at something else, ironically only a couple of days after remarking to a friend that I had not seen it in the Park. There were only half a dozen "leaves" of this small species present at this site.

Needle In A Haystack

Day 134: Given the size of Graphis scripta, I knew that trying to document its occurrence in the Park was going to be a challenge. The only thing I had working in my favour was the knowledge that it likes to grow on alder (Alnus rubra). Kevin and I had spent some time examining alders up Kautz Creek last week with no success, so today, I hiked up the Westside Road to another location I thought might yield up my "target species." A deer was my only companion as I wove my way among Devil's Club and salmonberry vines, and I was just about to throw in the towel and was working my way back to the road when I thought to check the other side of a three-inch tree I'd already examined. There, threatened by concealment by bryophytes, was my prize!

These photos are the first I've taken since being given the go-ahead for a research project to document lichen species in the Park, and I don't have to tell you how jazzed I am at the prospect. But Graphis scripta was not my only find for today. Stay tuned! You'll see more in coming posts.

Fish For Breakfast

Day 133: At the second bridge along the Bud Blancher Trail, a grandfatherly man was encouraging a boy about four years old to climb up the rails for a better look, despite a highly visible sign prohibiting just such an activity. As I approached, he said, "Look, there's an otter on the rocks down there. I just saw him catch a fish!" That was the beginning of a conversation which was soon joined by another passerby, and one from which I absented myself as quickly as possible after trying vainly to set the record straight. The fact that the animal in question was an otter seemed to be the only piece of information the fellow had right. With half a dozen other salmon dead on the rocks below, it was obvious that they were remnants of the most recent "fish toss" conducted by the Nisqually Stream Stewards, fish caught solely for their roe, their bodies frozen for later disposition. The bridge is one of their primary dump sites for such carcases, a measure instituted to help restore the natural health of the river. When I attempted to provide the details of the project, the man rejected my explanation point-blank although the woman who had joined us listened with interest. However, when she asked, "Are otters rare?" and the man replied, "Yes, very!" I decided it was time for me to move on. I'd had a full dose of misinformation for the morning, and I wasn't even on the internet!

Taxonomic update: Lutra canadensis is now Lontra canadensis.