April 22, 2019
Today is Earth Day- way to go mother-nature! Being employed as a naturalist, this day is a great way to connect the public to the great outdoors, educate our future generations to make environmentally-forward choices, teach visitors ways to help preserve our natural resources, and develop fun events centered around celebrating our planet. This day stands for so much and is a great launching pad to make many important and meaningful connections for our earth. I chose to focus efforts over the weekend knowing I would have a higher-chance of reaching folks. Turns out the spring crowds were meager, and the weather was not agreeable- but at least I gave it a try! Fortunately, those that did participate had a good time- and hopefully they’ll take their memories home with them to share with others.
Turns out I had the actual holiday off- so as a lover of nature I made sure to enjoy this day to its fullest. I put on my “Protect the Atchafalaya Basin” shirt, a special memento I snagged in New Orleans with a dear friend of mine back in December (this was after exploring the plentiful bayous and waterways with her for several days via canoe, kayak and eco-tour), threw my hair in a clip, grabbed the pup and headed to our hike. As we drove the sky overhead turned from cloudy, to gray, to serious rain. No problem for us- as a Washingtonian I’ve got a raincoat packed in my bag year-round, and I always welcome the precipitation. Here in the “Pacific North-wet” (as I’ve coined it) we’re known as “The Evergreen State” and there’s a darn good reason for that! Rain, rain, and more rain. Our local meteorologists have even come up with a variety of terms to describe the same phenomenon. They rotate between- “rain, chance of rain, showers, drizzle, condensation, precipitation, heavy rainfall, sleet, inches of accumulation, periods of moisture, and when it takes a turn for the worst- hail”. Most of us have learned to just accept it as “ok, it’s going to be a little wet, no surprise there”.
The hike we had in mind had abundant canopy cover to shelter us from most of the showers. It ended up being a wonderfully refreshing outing- with an abundance of interesting whimsies to examine along the way. For starters, the entire path wove alongside a lovely creek- so there was a rich riparian zone of vegetation teeming with life. We saw oodles of mushrooms; red-belted polymores clinging to nurse stumps at every bend, tiny brown gilled fungi popping out of decomposing logs, Zeller’s bolete pushing through the leaf-litter, a species of oysters growing up a moss-laden trunk, and some sort of cauliflower fungus- though I’m not totally convinced with my identification. There were luscious thick matts of wood sorrel blanketing the forest floor, their small white and pink striped flowers peeking up from underneath the leaves. Alongside these were the bleeding hearts and false lily of the valley- growing in the same fashion. Most interesting was my discovery of itty-bitty bright-red forest mites crawling across this plant. They were no bigger than a grain of rice and almost appeared velvety to the touch- though of course I didn’t attempt this as one finger would surely squish them! Near them was a moth so camouflaged with the forest floor I almost missed it. We also stumbled upon a banana slug, slowly sliming its way over the moss and lichen deposited on the ground. At one point a speeding black ground beetle zoomed across the path- on some sort of little mission we’ll simply have to wonder about. I was reminded of the Darkling beetles I often encountered in the central Coulee Corridor of our state. They had a habit of propping themselves up on their heads and spraying a nasty chemical at predators- which fortunately I was never victim of- but I did grow a deep respect for them that summer.
Continuing along, we eventually veered off the trail to a path cut down to the creek. The ancient tree roots were exposed here, making natural stairs down to a soil bluff overlooking the water. There were vine maples growing in a row, forming a makeshift fence over the edge, with deer fern and sword fern cascading down the front- some touching the water. We peered through the vegetation, out over the wet rocks and moss-covered tree trunks seemingly at home alongside the rushing creek. Places like this offer a magical feeling. They remind you to take a breath and exhale slowly- to take in your surroundings and live in the moment.
The high-pitched call of a Water Ouzel suddenly interrupts the other sounds- and scanning the shoreline I find a pair of them tangled in a dance. We sat there for a while, nestled between a grand cedar tree and thicket of red-huckleberry. Watching them- dipping down, down, down, down- followed by a sporadic fluttering across the water, launching off the tree trunk to land in the shallows where the tall grass bends down to meet the current. The nearby fern fronds swaying with the motion of the creek, as the droplets of rain mix into the flowing fluid. The little birds are splashing feverishly about, submerging their entire bodies down under, popping back up again and like a small boat- floating on the surface and periodically spinning. Small circular movements propelled by their stick-like legs until the momentum of their body continues the motion. Sprays of water launch off the sleek black feathers in all directions- quite a scene its making, and all the while serenading its friend in a high-pitched “toot, toot, toot” that grows in frequency and speed. Now they are both bobbing down the currents- the rapids of the white-water bubbling and rushing past them. The intensity of the surrounding doesn’t seem to bother these critters- they were built for a life along the river.
Pup and I continue to watch them for several minutes, until their dance takes them down the bend and around the corner. Their calls are still heard, echoing down the tree-lined corridor- thought their antics are no longer seen. What a special sight- it’s flashes of activity like this that spark my curiosity and cravings for the natural world. I’m always honored when I’m permitted to experience the private happenings of the forest and their wild folk. It always takes me by surprise- and I enjoy every minute of it.
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