The morning river is cool. It flows in blues and grays. It is soft and quiet. The air is gentle. It soothes my eyes and skin and my breath. I am awake, alive in its stillness. I want to wade through the dawn, mindful and respectful, a heron.
Burnt Orange
There is a small grove of coastal redwoods at the arboretum. Underneath them, there is a small bench. I decided to sit on the bench to relax and let go of the busyness of the day. While sitting there, small branches occasionally fell out of the tree and landed on the bench. The vibrancy of the rich, burnt orange color of one of them caught my attention. While enjoying its color, I became fascinated by the shape and texture of the needles—narrow, pointed, and smooth. It was interesting to see the manner in which they were wrapped around a stem that must be underneath. It created such a beautiful pattern.
I put the small branch down on the bench. When I looked back at it a few minutes later, a small jumping spider had crawled up on it and was watching me. It was remarkable to see how its coloration matched the dead needles. I was reminded that there are so many wonders to behold in nature if I sit and take the time to slow down so that I can notice them.
Snowberry Still Blooming
With the end of August approaching, I am surprised to see that snowberry flowers are continuing to emerge. I looked back and found that I had taken photos of it flowering in May. I see many insects visiting the blooms, and I am reminded of how valuable this native plant is as a nectar source.
The Dog Days of Summer
In the early evening, the heat of the day amasses, soaking the earth and sky. Rays of sunlight are slanting across the landscape from the West. Insects are dancing and swirling, catching the light as they frolic along the banks of the river. I feel like the dog days of summer still have us by the tail.
I decided to reimagine the colors of this photo to capture how I was feeling at that moment. I was inspired by the painting by Pierre Bonnard titled The Bay of St.-Tropez and an excerpt from a book that aptly interprets the artwork: “…These dense colors, this solar atmosphere, this sea of strong yellow with its reflections of red clouds, evoke for the spectator the tepid weight of summer hours, the insidious saturation of the skin, the languor of intemporal holidays.”
Reference
The Editors of Realites, Impressionism. Chartwell Books Inc., 1973.
Steller's Jay & Manroot
I have been watching this wonderful vine grow throughout the arboretum this year. I have followed it from the beginning as it sprouted its first vibrant, green leaves in spring to now, as the dried, brown seed pods split open to release their seeds. At the end of this trail, I find the mysterious, radiant blue Steller’s jay collecting the seeds and carrying them off to cache them.
Manroot is a native perennial in the cucumber family (Cucurbitaceae). Unlike its relatives, this plant is not edible. It gets its name from its large, woody, tuberous root.
Manroot will climb trees, cover shrubs, or flow along the ground. It can form a dense blanket of vines and leaves as it grows. Its coiled tendrils reach out and grasp onto small branches, bark, and other vegetation as it weaves its way through the landscape.
The male and female flowers are separate and on the same plant. Loosely clustered male flowers emerge on a narrow stalk, and that is what you see filling the landscape in spring with soft, white stars. The female flower is short-stalked, close to the vine, and is usually solitary.
The fruit is light green with dark green veins spreading on its surface. It is covered with spines that, fortunately, are fairly soft. Inside, it is fibrous and mostly consists of huge seeds. As the manroot vine dies off for the season, the pods turn brown, split open from the bottom, and release their seeds.
I feel that plants take on another fascinating life and energy as their color, shape, and texture transform as they die. The skin of the seed pod can have a variety of decaying textures and colors. The seeds have a look and feel of small, weathered river stones. They are round and flat with a slight curve. They are pleasant to roll around in my hand and listen to them tumble against each other. The dried leaves are captivating as they hang from the vines like wrinkled capes.
Nature is an inexhaustible source of wonder. Hope to see you out there.
Reference
Pojar, Jim, and Andrew MacKinnon. Plants of the Pacific Northwest Coast: Washington, Oregon, British Columbia & Alaska. Revised ed, Lone Pine, 2004.
Bald-faced Hornet
Out at the end of this oak branch is a paper nest of the bald-faced hornet. The adult hornet is 5/8-3/4” long. They have black and white patterns on the face, thorax, abdomen, and first antennal segment. The wings are a smoky coloration.
The nest is constructed of wood pulp. I usually find a hornet on the posts of an old wooden fence along the river trail where they gather the top, soft layer of gray fibers. The nest is built in many layers of cells that are covered from the outside. In the end, the nest becomes this striated swirl of grays that is beautiful and sturdy.
The main entrance of the nest is placed at the bottom. This is easy to see in the second photo of the nest below. I just took this photo yesterday evening. This is the second attempt at building the nest. The first one was torn down. A serious word of caution. The adult hornets are very protective of the nest, and they will not hesitate to defend it if you get too close. They can sting repeatedly, and from my own experience, it is painful!
The diet of the adult consists of nectar, fruit juices, and perhaps eats other insects. The larva feed on insects that are pre-chewed by the adults.
In the late summer, the colony starts to produce males and young queens that will mate. The young mated females will overwinter in the soil or leaf litter—all of the other hornets will die off. The young queen will emerge next year to start a new colony.
At the bottom, there are a couple of photos of a bald-faced hornet on an oak limb that has these red nodules which I think are a type of gall. Maybe the hornets are attracted to these galls because the galls excrete plant juices that they can eat. I haven’t been able to find out more about it yet.
References
Milne, Lorus Johnson, and Margery Milne. The Audubon Society Field Guide to North American Insects and Spiders. Knopf: distributed by Random House, 1980.
Harvesting Hazelnuts
Hazelnuts are being eaten and carried off to be cached. I can hear the squirrels clamoring around through the hazelnut tree limbs as they search for nuts. When they find one, they will find a perch to eat it, which doesn’t take long. I can hear them gnawing on the shell and see bits of it falling to the ground.
Steller’s Jays are also hopping around through the hazelnut trees gathering nuts. When they will collect one to eat, they take it over to a limb big enough to perch on and to hold the nut. I love watching them hold the nut in their bill and with their feet. Every day over the past week, I have heard them in the trees pounding on the nuts trying to open them. It takes more time and effort for them to open the nuts than their squirrel neighbors.
I am not sure why these squirrels and jays are eating hazelnuts now. They haven’t fully matured. Hazelnuts are usually harvested in the fall. Maybe other food sources are scarce at the moment. Or maybe they just like the taste. Perhaps there are certain nutrients that the nuts provide at the moment that they are craving. Whatever the answer, come fall, there won’t be any left on the trees at the arboretum.
Shimmering Cosmic Web
It was late afternoon. It was hot and sleepy. A cicada was buzzing. I slowly walked down the trail. As I came around a small bend, the sun was slanting through the underbrush. I was suddenly awakened to a dream. To my wonder, the sun’s rays were illuminating a cosmic labyrinth of spider webs. The silk threads refracted the light and created a starry chandelier that sparkled with the full spectrum of colors. It was dazzling to watch as it swayed in the breeze.
In the center of the shimmering, cosmic web was a delicate spider. It was completely still in this energetic array of lights. I can’t even imagine how this spider crawled out to the edge of a leaf, looked into the space between the branches, envisioned building its home, and attached the first thread of this network of fibers. Amazing!
Fly Larvae
Some flies stirred as I was walking down the path, and I looked over to see a dead snake. As I bent down to take a closer look, I saw that it was teeming with fly larvae inside its body. I was reminded of nature’s cycle of life. The purpose, strength, spirit, and medicine of so many unsung organisms that break down, transform, and recycle all of creation back into the stream of life are unbelievable.
Weasel
There are weasels at the arboretum!
The weasel family includes weasels, minks, otters, martens, fishers, skunks, badgers, and wolverines.
Paul Rezendes writes: “The weasel’s generic name, Mustela, means ‘one who carries mice.’ The word weasel comes from the Sanskrit visra, which means ‘to have a musty smell.’”
There are two kinds of weasels in Oregon, short-tailed and long-tailed. Which one did I see? David Moskowitz had this to say: “These two species can be difficult, if not impossible, to distinguish in the field, either from live sightings or tracks. While long-tailed weasels are usually larger than short-tailed weasels, because they are both sexually dimorphic, a slight size overlap exists between large male short-tailed weasels and small female long-tailed weasels. A few minor habitat use distinctions between the two species are also not absolute.” Also, both of these weasels have black-tipped tails. When I looked at my photos, I noticed that this weasel didn’t have a black-tipped tail, which added to the mystery.
Long tail short, sometimes it is best to let go of names. Tom Brown, Jr. reminds us that: “Everything worth knowing about the animal lies beyond the name… Concentrate on concepts, feelings, and sensations. Most of all, concentrate on interacting with the things you encounter in nature.”
That said, what I do know is that this little animal is slender, fast, and action-packed. It can swim, climb trees, travel tunnels, search burrows, explore hollow logs, slide in between rocks, and dive into snow banks. This makes a very skilled hunter.
Out at the arboretum, they have many small mammals to eat, such as mice, voles, chipmunks, rabbits, squirrels, and pocket gophers. They will also eat birds, eggs, berries, seeds, and forbs.
This is just a brief introduction to an amazing animal, and I hope that you are inspired to learn more. This encounter always reminds me that there are so many fascinating discoveries to be made in local parks and in my backyard. Nature is an inexhaustible source of wonder. See you out there.
References
Brown, Tom, and Brandt Morgan. Tom Brown’s Field Guide to Nature Observation and Tracking. Berkley trade pbk. ed, Berkley Books, 1983.
Moskowitz, David. Wildlife of the Pacific Northwest: Tracking and Identifying Mammals, Birds, Reptiles, Amphibians, and Invertebrates. Timber Press, 2010.
Rezendes, Paul. Tracking & the Art of Seeing: How to Read Animal Tracks & Sign. 2nd ed, HarperCollins, 1999.
Story
I heard some rustling coming from the underbrush at the edge of the forest, and I heard a California ground squirrel and a spotted towhee alarming. As I turned to see what was going on, a rabbit jumped out of the grass and started running down the road. A moment later, a weasel popped out onto the road chasing the rabbit. They zigzagged in and out of the grass a few times and then came back out onto the trail. The weasel caught up to the rabbit and was right behind it. The weasel then jumped on the back of the rabbit and grabbed it behind the head. The rabbit got loose for a moment, and the weasel grabbed it on its throat. As the weasel started running away with the rabbit, it got loose again. The rabbit must be hard to hold through all of that fur. The weasel shot into the grass leaving the rabbit behind. Dazed, the rabbit took a couple of small hops to the edge of the meadow, hunkered down into the long grass, and became as still as a rock. A second later, the weasel came running out of the grass searching for the rabbit. The weasel retraced its steps to within a foot of the rabbit but didn’t find it. Curiously, he even ran over to me a few times, perhaps wondering if I had taken his rabbit. After a few minutes of investigating the area, he decided to move on. Once I thought the coast was clear, I quietly walked over and checked on the rabbit. It peered up at me through the grass and didn’t move a muscle. I decided to move on too and let it recuperate. I was uncertain how bad it was hurt, if at all. I went back the next morning, and it was gone.
Dust Bath
A Bewick’s wren flew down onto the path in front of me. It then proceeded to flutter its wings, kicking up a small cloud of dust. It reminded me of a little windup toy. As it flitted its wings, its body vibrated forward. It would then stop, as if to wind up its motor, and then began again. Within a few minutes, it had exuberantly covered itself with dirt.
Here’s a little excerpt from the essay Bathing and Dusting in the Birder’s Handbook:
“When birds bathe in water or saturate themselves with dust they are actively maintaining their plumage. In well-watered areas bathing is most common, in arid ones dusting is more often observed. Experiments with quail show that frequent dusting helps to maintain an optimum amount of oil on the feathers. Excess plumage lipids, including preen oil, are absorbed by the dust and expelled along with dry skin and other debris. If quail are prevented from dusting, their feathers quickly become oily and matted. Dusting may also help to discourage bird lice, but no experimental evidence exists as yet showing that to be the case.
Wrens and House Sparrows frequently follow a water bath with a dust bath (one reason to suspect an antiparasite function for dusting). Overall, the amount of time and effort birds put into bathing and dusting indicates how critical feather maintenance may be. Feathers are marvelous and intricate devices, but keeping them functional requires constant care.”
Resource
Ehrlich, Paul R., et al. The Birder’s Handbook: A Field Guide to the Natural History of North American Birds: Including All Species That Regularly Breed North of Mexico. Simon & Schuster, 1988.
Giant Trillium Seeds
The seed pod of the giant trillium forms into a capsule that turns a dark, rich purple-black. The seeds have a lipid-rich seed appendage known as an elaiosome which is an attractive food source to ants. I read that the ants will collect the seeds, take them back to their nest, remove the elaiosome and discard the seeds. This helps to disperse the seeds around the landscape.
With the seed pods I have been watching, the ants have been taking away the elaiosome and leaving the seed. The ants are small, so maybe it is easier to harvest the elaiosome on site and leave the seed. You can see some of the seeds caught in a spider web below one of the pods. So, these ants aren’t really dispersing them, besides releasing them from their pod.
I also imagined that the seed pod would mature, open, the seeds would spill out onto the ground, and then the ants would gather them. With these, it appears that the ants are tearing them open. Somehow they can sense the seeds are in there and that they are ready to harvest. Life is amazing.
Black Hawthorn Berries
The black hawthorn berries are ripening, and some of my feathered friends are there to start gobbling them up. I sat in the shade nearby for about an hour and saw cedar waxwings, robins, chickadees, and a scrub jay. The robins and cedar waxwings ate them whole. The chickadees would hang onto the cluster and eat them. The scrub jay plucked the berry and flew off with it to eat it elsewhere.
The black hawthorn is in the rose family and the berries are edible. I tried one, and it reminded me of eating a rose hip or a mealy apple. There were 4 seeds inside that were most of the berry. There was only a little fleshy part surrounding the seeds. Maybe they are not quite ready to eat. Birds tend to eat certain berries before they have fully ripened.
Red-flowering Currant Berries
The red-flowering currant has vibrant, pink flower clusters for which the plant is named. When the berries form, they start as an inconspicuous green that blends in with the foliage. When they mature, they turn a dark blue that is coated with a white, waxy bloom.
It is a celestial life form with its frosty, cool surface. It has become peppered with cosmic freckles in its travels through the universe. This shrub could easily be called Blue Stardust berry or Blue Galaxy berry. I love the contrast between the radiant, pink flowers and the wintry-blue berry.
The field guide Plants of the Pacific Northwest Coast states that the fruit is “unpalatable” or “edible but insipid.” I ate one. I found the taste to be okay, but the berries were seedy.
Resources
Pojar, Jim, and Andrew MacKinnon. Plants of the Pacific Northwest Coast: Washington, Oregon, British Columbia & Alaska. Revised ed, Lone Pine, 2004.
River Jewelwing
This damselfly is truly a jewel with its iridescent blue body forged from stardust. The outer third of its wing is sooty—singed by the sun on its cosmic journey to earth. Its legs of wicker form a basket collecting and cradling our dreams. When we reawaken to our connection to nature, we will remember that we are all one.
Water Strider
The small, ephemeral stream that flows off the hillside next to the white oak pavilion is still softly trickling. As I follow the stream up the trail, there are places where the water is continuing to fill shallow pools.
In these pools, oval shadows ringed with light dance around the floor. Creating this celestial event are water striders! Where their feet contact the surface, it makes small dimples that are eclipsing the sun.
Miraculously, the surface tension of the water holds them up. They also have tiny hairs on their feet that trap air bubbles that help them stay buoyant and allow them to easily propel themselves along.
As distant images of the cosmos are streaming into our world from the James Webb telescope, these small pools remind me of the infinite universe contained within our planet earth.
Red-tailed Hawk
Red-tailed hawks can often be seen soaring in the clear blue skies of summer. As they circle overhead, the sun illuminates their tail's warm, red feathers from where they get their name.
Red-tail hawks love the arboretum. It has the perfect habitat of open, grassy meadows that support an abundance of animals, like voles, mice, pocket gophers, ground squirrels, and rabbits. These small mammals make up most of the hawk’s diet. In addition, there are many tall trees and snags adjacent to these open spaces where the hawks can sit, watch, and wait for an opportunity to grab their prey.
Red-tail hawks also nest out at the arboretum. I usually see their nests in the crown of tall cottonwood trees along the river. They will often refurbish an old nest used in previous years or build a new one. The nest is a sizable construction of dry sticks up to 6.5 feet high and 3 feet wide. The inner part of the nest is lined with bark strips, fresh foliage, and dry vegetation.
The call of the red-tailed hawk is usually given while soaring. Peterson describes it as an “asthmatic squeal, keeer-r-r (slurring downward).” The Cornel Lab characterizes it as, “a hoarse, screaming kee-eeeee-arr.” While those interpretations are useful, I think they don’t capture the essence. To me, the line from section 52 of Walt Whitman’s poem Song of Myself truly expresses the call of the red-tailed hawk: “I too am not a bit tamed, I too am untranslatable, I sound my barbaric yawp over the roofs of the world.”
Nature is an inexhaustible source of wonder. Hope to see you out there.
Peterson, Roger Tory, et al. Peterson Field Guide to Birds of Western North America. 4th ed, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, 2010.
Red-Tailed Hawk Overview, All About Birds, Cornell Lab of Ornithology. https://www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/Red-tailed_Hawk/overview. Accessed 7 July 2022.
Oceanspray
This striking shrub has been blooming out at the arboretum over the past week. It is aptly named oceanspray with its misty, white clusters of flowers. To me, the flowers cascade like frothy, salt water flowing over rocky shores as crashing waves retreat.
In contrast to its gentle, soft flower clusters, oceanspray also has the common name of Ironwood. The strong, straight branches were used by Native Americans for tools. They fire-hardened the limbs for uses like arrows, digging sticks, and spears.
Interestingly, this plant is common on both sides of the Cascades as it can live in dry to moist areas. It grows in open sites mostly at low to middle elevations.
These overcast, cool mornings over the past week coupled with the blooming oceanspray make a walk at the arboretum feel like a trip to the coast.
Moss and Stone
I want to share with you an excerpt from the book Gathering Moss: A Natural and Cultural History of Mosses by Robin Wall Kimmerer:
“The rocks are beyond slow, beyond strong, and yet yielding to a soft green breath as powerful as a glacier, the mosses wearing away their surfaces, grain by grain bringing them slowly back to sand. There is an ancient conversation going on between mosses and rocks, poetry to be sure. About light and shadow and the drift of continents. This is what has been called the ‘dialectic of moss on stone—an interface of immensity and minuteness, of past and present, softness and hardness, stillness and vibrancy, yin and yang’ (Schenk). The material and the spiritual live together here.”
Kimmerer, Robin Wall. Gathering Moss: A Natural and Cultural History of Mosses. 1st ed, Oregon State University Press, 2003.
Schenk, George. Moss Gardening: Including Lichens, Liverworts, and Other Miniatures. Timber Press, 1999.
Bigleaf Maple - Powdery Mildew
Ick! The bigleaf maple leaves have become coated with powdery mildew as a cool, wet spring wrapped up and transitioned into the warm summer. Why are leaves of bigleaf maples particularly suitable hosts? What effect is this going to have on the ability of the chlorophyll to produce energy for the tree? I guess that photosynthesis will be greatly reduced with this hazy cloud of fungus covering the leaves. It certainly must be stressing the tree. Thus, I start to wonder how much this event affects the vitality or life force of the tree, especially coupled with the very dry conditions of last year.
My other thought is that this fungus is beautiful. Its frosty, white shroud is restoring harmony and balance. Thank you powdery mildew for your role.
The complexity of nature is truly incomprehensible, especially in one, short lifetime. There will always be more to know.
