Rob and Mike at Reflection Lake

Day 261: Yesterday was Rob and Mike's last full day here, so we went on a whirlwind tour of the west side of Mount Rainier National Park, hitting iconic sites such as Christine Falls and Reflection Lake (above). Even at 8:30 AM, the parking lot at Paradise was jam-packed and people were already parking a mile down the Valley Road, but I had expected that. Visitation to the Park has grown exponentially since covid. We walked the loop at Box Canyon, took photos of the Mountain from several spots, including Backbone Ridge which was our turn-around point. Rob was intrigued by the engineering, particularly of the stone bridges which occur throughout the Park. Mike (an avid gardener) and I talked botany while Rob studied bolts and welds. A brief visit to the Longmire gift shop finished the tour except for a stop at Kautz Creek and again at the Nisqually Entrance which they had not yet seen (I'd brought them in through the "employee" gate), and of course Rob took photos of the arch framing the entrance. We stopped at home for an hour or so, and then it was off in a different direction to have Chinese food after viewing Mossyrock Dam from both sides. It was a long day for us all, but hopefully, it will have been an unforgettable experience for them.

Rob's Teddy Bear

Day 260: My guests had a busy day yesterday and today (their last full day) promises to be even more active, so I thought I'd show you Rob's "teddy bear." This is the slime mold he found at Longmire. Of course if you've been following along, you'll recognize it as Fuligo septica which bears the unpleasant common name of "Dog-vomit." It was inside a rotting stump, too high for me to have observed from the ground, so when Rob found it and called me over, he hoisted me up so I could see it. I climbed up the opposite side of the stump to take the photo. His view of it looked even more like a teddy bear than mine! Then I proceeded to explain slime molds to Mike (Rob's dad), who was intrigued by the fact that they can move. I was so tickled that Rob had spotted it that all through the remainder of the day, I kept inserting, "You found a sime mold!" into our coversations.

In other news, I am happy to report that the top of the Mountain came out yesterday evening, so they were able to see it, albeit not in total. We'll remedy that today. My botany partners dropped by in the evening to meet them, and to show them pictures of the bear they'd spotted at Paradise. Rob and his dad were also able to get a glimpse of the northern hemisphere's night sky, although dawn was already beginning to dim the stars when we went outside. Tonight's viewing should be much better. Tomorrow they begin the journey home, and one thing is certain: Merry is going to miss terribly the wonderful new friends who came here just especially to meet him.

Off the Beaten Path

Day 259: Before they arrived, I had warned my New Zealand guests that there wasn't a lot to do here in the Back of Beyond unless you were an avid hiker or a mountaineer. The skies have been cloudy, and they've only seen the tips of Mount Rainier's three summit peaks poking up above them. In the hopes that we might get above the clouds for a Mountain view, I decided to take them up to Paradise yesterday even though the webcams showed the area blanketed in fog. There was little chance they would actually get a view, but I thought I could offer a little excitement en route with a brief visit to a little-known area. Obviously, Rob enjoyed the diversion! In exchange, he was able to provide a trip highlight to me: he found a slime mold (it will appear in a subsequent post). We paid Kevin a visit at the office, and as predicted, Paradise was a rainy, nippy washout. With two days left before they start the trip home, there's still hope that my visitors may both see the Mountain and the night skies of the northern hemisphere. It's supposed to clear up.

Rob Learns To Weave

Day 258: When Rob told me that he'd hoped to have a weaving lesson while he was here visiting from New Zealand, I could hardly believe I'd heard him correctly, and of course I was overjoyed to have the opportunity to teach. The only unoccupied loom at the moment was my 10" rigid heddle, so I set it up at full width with a little over a yard of "Sugar'n Cream"cotton (a heavy crochet cotton which is perfect for a beginner's first project). After dinner, we settled in for the lesson. I explained briefly what I had done to thread the loom, showed him how I had woven and hemstitched the first few rows, handed him a loaded shuttle and turned him loose after emphasizing the importance of tidy selvedges. "Sometimes it takes new weavers years to be able to make good selvedges," I said. "Don't expect them to be perfect on your first piece." And then he proceeded to weave a washcloth with the best selvedges I have ever seen a beginner make! Several hours later, he was ready to learn how to hemstitch, and when that task was done, we cut the piece off the loom. Today, he'll finish it up by twisting the fringes, and I think he is entirely justified in being proud of his first weaving.

Friends From New Zealand

Day 257: Friends from New Zealand are staying with me. Two of them will start the journey home on Monday, but these two will be joining my family. The one on the left is a Kakapo, a nocturnal parrot which cannot fly. In nature, they are critically endangered, and the few remaining birds are confined to predator-free islands. The one on the right is the iconic Fantail, a hoppy, happy, chirpy New Zealand native. Oh, the other two? You want to know about the other two? That would be Rob and his dad! Rob and I have been internet friends for something like 15 years, and this is the first time we've met in person. They've been on a 'round-the-world whirl, and this is their last stop before catching a flight out of Los Angeles. Even though they've been travelling for almost a month, they have not seen the one thing they most wanted to see: the stars of the northern hemisphere. With any luck, we'll have clear skies Saturday or Sunday night, and if the clouds disappear, they may even be able to see the elusive Mountain.

Comptonia Peregrina, Sweetfern

Day 256: Over the years, there have been several occasions when someone observed Comptonia peregrina in my garden and mistook it for another plant entirely, one which I would never, ever grow (and anyone who knows me should know that). While the leaf shape is superficially similar, anyone who can tell their left shoe from their right should be able to spot the differences even if they're only familiar with the other plant's iconic silhouette. The leaves of Sweetfern are simple and alternate, not palmately compound, and although both have jagged edges, Comptonia's leaf is pinnatifid (comprised of deeply divided lobes), as opposed to being serrated (toothed like a saw). My lovely, lush Comptonia has provided some amusing interludes as I show guests around my yard. When in fruit as it is now, there's little chance of misidentification. The end-of-thumb sized pods are covered with soft spines, and each holds up to four small nutlets which are purportedly edible. Northern Flickers find them particularly tasty.

Poor Showing

 

Day 255: Well, there you have it: the delphinium, singular. There was one other stalk which got beaten down by rain, but that's pretty much the whole show right there. The trend seems to be fairly widespread, too. Almost everything is coming on late or being non-productive. The neighbour's pie cherry trees are covered in little hard green things which are nothing more than a thin skin over a pit. The gooseberries are hard as rocks, and by now I should have been out there picking them daily. Snapdragons, usually enthusiastic volunteers, are simply not showing up for work. While these usually abundant plants are faltering, success is coming from unexpected quarters. The figs are swelling nicely, and if even a tenth of the kiwi flowers form berries, I'll have enough kiwis to feed a small army. I suppose in trading off for only one delphinium, I'm still getting the best end of the deal.