Inside the darkness of the earth,
there is a molten inferno of stones
coursing through her veins.
It is surging with each
beat of her heart.
The rhythmical pulse is
drumming—a percussive mallet
forging armored suits
of emerald.
It is where dragons are born.
They rise out of the
fiery core of the planet
into the watery environments
on the surface.
An igneous jewel darting
through sun rays,
dazzling
in the summer sky.
Licorice Ferns & Summer
I disturbed a moth while walking across one of the bridges in the wetlands. I was watching it flutter around hoping that it would land nearby so I could get a look at it. It went under the bridge and as I peaked over the edge to see where it went, I saw two licorice ferns growing out of moss underneath the side rail. At the arboretum and probably most of the Willamette Valley licorice ferns are considered summer deciduous. When the dry, hot summer comes, most of these ferns will die back and go dormant. When the rains of fall start, usually in September, they will sprout new leaves that last until next summer. That said, every summer I find a couple here and there that keep growing in shady areas where there is enough moisture. After I found the ones on the bridge, I decided to go and find some more. I found them growing down low at the base of trees where they escape direct sun. I also found them growing on the sides of mossy rocks where it is cooler and out of the sun. More rain and mild termperatures are on the way this week, so licorice ferns might decide to start sprouting a little early this year. I’ll be out there watching to see.
Coast Redwood Sprouts Erupt From Stump
There is a small grove of Coast Redwood trees at the beginning of the river path in front of the White Oak Pavilion. During the ice storm, two of them sustained significant damage, and they cut them down for safety reasons I suppose. As a survival mechanism, heaps of sprouts have erupted from this stump transforming it into a small shrub.
Two conifers on the West Coast produce sprouts from the base if they are cut down or sustain injury, the Coast Redwood (Sequoia sempervirens) and the Pacific Yew (Taxus brevifolia). A side note, the Pacific Yew is “grouped with the conifers because it has needlelike foliage, its fruit is not a cone. Instead, it’s an aril—a large, single seed surrounded by a soft, fleshy, bright red pulp (Jensen, pg. 58),” which are highly poisonous.
In an article by the Penn State Extension, What Makes Some Tree Species Prolific Stump Sprouters?, it says: “Stump sprouts come about from suppressed dormant buds at the root collar of a tree – the meeting place of the stem and roots – that become active in the case of injury or extreme environmental changes that induce stress. While there are dormant buds that exist all over the tree, sometimes referred to as epicormic buds, they typically have a short lifespan after emergence and give rise to branches, not new stems (trunks). Dormant buds at the root collar, however, have traces all the way to the pith and in some species may live just as long if not longer than the main stem. They formed when the tree first put out roots and shoots.
The dormant buds grow slowly along with the tree; staying near the surface of the living wood beneath the bark. They also are believed to be genetically more juvenile which means that these buds are not necessarily a continuation of the tree's life but more of a revitalization, rebirth.”
If you look on the left side of the shrubby stump, you will see a small trunk that was sprouting from the base of the tree that wasn’t cut down or damaged. You can see in one of the photos below that this small trunk developing doesn’t look to be in that great of condition, but I need to go back and take a closer look at it. I will be interested to see how the sprouts on this stump continue to grow and develop over the next few years. Will they revitalize the already developing small trunk and die off or will one of the sprouts become a trunk and develop into a new tree?
Resources
Jensen, Edward C., et al. Trees to Know in Oregon. Rev. April 2005., Oregon State University, 2005.
What Makes Some Tree Species Prolific Stump Sprouters? https://extension.psu.edu/what-makes-some-tree-species-prolific-stump-sprouters. Accessed 18 Aug. 2024.
Beaver Dam
Beavers are undeniably amazing creatures, and I am always filled with wonder and awe when I come across one of their dams.
They are mostly constructed of many sizes of limbs that range from small twigs to ones up to 4 or 5 inches in diameter. Within this organized chaos of sticks are rocks, mud, grass, leaves, and other plant material. I was most surprised by the amount of river stones used and their size. Some of them were big and heavy enough to require some effort to grasp and hold in one hand.
Beavers build dams to establish a place to construct a lodge where they can live and raise a family. The lodge location, in or next to deep water, protects against predators. The lodge will have underwater entrances that provide an escape from predators such as bears, wolves, and mountain lions. Beavers will also store food at the bottom of the pond which also helps them avoid predators. They are excellent swimmers and are safer in the water because they aren’t exposing themselves on land. In addition, in areas where the water freezes in winter, the beavers will have access to food under the ice through their underwater entryways.
The dam cradles the water's side channel, creating a nursery for plants, insects, fish, birds, and other mammals that thrive in slower-moving water. Additionally, this small pond permits more water to seep into the groundwater allowing the surrounding riparian area to flourish especially during dry periods.
From what I have read, beavers can build watertight dams. At the moment, this dam holds back a significant amount of water but doesn’t completely impede the flow. Small cascades of water trickle over and through the dam creating pleasing waterfalls to listen to and watch.
Beavers are a keystone species and I am happy to see they have chosen to live around the arboretum. My intentions are to write short blog posts that inspire you (and me too!) to be out in nature and follow up with more in-depth research if you are interested in the particular topic. For me, beavers are fascinating creatures, and I am definitely off to the library to find a book to read more about them.
Nature is an inexhaustible source of wonder. I look forward to seeing you out there.
Gumweed
The plant list for the arboretum records the species of gumweed Grindelia integrifolia. When I look it up in Plants of the Pacific Northwest Coast by Pojar and MacKinnon, under ecology of the plant it writes: “Beaches, rocky shores, salt marshes, mostly maritime habitats; frequent from the Queen Charlotte Islands south; also moist open non-maritime habitats in the Strait of Georgia-Puget Sound area through the Willamette Valley.” The plant I have photographed here is growing along the road in dry, hard soil in full sun. Also, it is blooming at the driest time of year. Something seems to be amiss. I wonder if this is a different species of gumweed not recorded on the plant list because based on the description of its habitat, it seems like this species wouldn’t be growing along a dry, sun-baked roadside.
All that aside, this plant is awesome! It is in the aster family and has bright, yellow ray florets radiating around the outside and golden disk florets packed in the middle. The flower is bulbous with a spiky involucre that is sticky or gummy. The stems are reddish and the leaves are alternate, without stems, and dotted with resin. It is a perennial herb that would be great to grow in an unmanaged part of your yard, like along the parking strip in front of your house. It will brighten the space around your home and provide insects with another nectar source in the latter part of the summer when there aren’t as many flowers.
I love the form of the flower heads, and I am looking forward to checking out the seeds!
Resources
Pojar, Jim, and Andrew MacKinnon. Plants of the Pacific Northwest Coast: Washington, Oregon, British Columbia & Alaska. Revised ed, Lone Pine, 2004.
Bird Nest
I was out poking around the lower limbs of oak trees looking for galls and found this little bird nest. It is mostly constructed out of moss with catkins from the male flowers of the oak tree woven in. Around the rim, there appear to be strips of bark, and the inside is lined with fine grasses. I was amazed that it was remarkably sturdy and built from such soft plant matter. I’m sure all of the moss made excellent insulation and created a cozy and warm nest. The moss also helped camouflage it. It was neatly perched on a small limb, and a canopy of oak leaves sheltered it from the blazing summer sun and the infrequent rain shower. A few developing acorns had fallen off the tree early and landed in the nest.
If I had to guess, I would say it is a goldfinch nest based on the size, location, and plant material. That said, most goldfinch nests that I find are pretty funky in the end. There is usually a substantial layer of bird poop around the top and outside of the nest from when the baby birds start to get crowded and sit towards the top. So maybe this nest wasn’t successfully used, or it could be another bird’s nest.
Finding this nest makes me want to go back and reread Gathering Moss by Robin Wall Kimmerer. I can’t remember if she talked about birds gathering moss and contributing to its dissemination.
I love finding a bird nest. They are all so unique and beautifully made. I hope you are enjoying your summer. See you out there.
I was old when I was new.
It is not a riddle,
or maybe it is.
I got up in the night
to write down
the song of the cricket
fiddling outside my window.
I forgot everything
as soon as I grabbed
my pencil and paper.
I did remembered
with a sigh of relief
that there aren’t words
for it anyway,
as I lay awake
dreaming
in the moonlight.
Sculpin
While turning over rocks in the river, I found an interesting fish called a sculpin. Naturally, they can be startled when their hiding place is revealed, so I had to turn over rocks slowly. They usually stayed out in the open briefly while I looked at them before quickly darting away to hide under another rock.
Sculpins mostly remain hidden under rocks, logs, or other river debris during the day. Also, their skin is well camouflaged with beautiful patterns that help them escape detection. At night, they come out to find food which mostly consists of small invertebrates, especially aquatic insect larvae.
Sculpins are found on the bottom because they don’t have a swim bladder that helps fish maintain buoyancy. Essentially, if they stop swimming, they sink. Their pectoral fins fan out to the side to help prop them up, grip slippery surfaces, and propel themselves along rocks.
I read that some sculpins can breathe through their skin which is known as cutaneous respiration. For example, there are saltwater sculpins that live in tidepools that can become drained at low tide.
When the summer temperatures are hot, it’s time to be in the river at the arboretum. While you are out there staying cool, turn over a few rocks and see what you can find. Try to place the rocks back as you found them so that the aquatic ecosystem remains as undisturbed as possible.
Nature is an inexhaustible source of wonder. I look forward to seeing you out there.
Resource
Sculpins (U.S. National Park Service). https://www.nps.gov/articles/000/sculpins.htm. Accessed 29 July 2024.
Ash-throated Flycatcher
Walking along the creek trail the other evening I found an Ash-throated Flycatcher bebopping through the oak trees. This hip little bird has a slightly bushy head and occasionally whistled sprightly little notes as it merrily foraged in and out of the branches. As it swooped between perches, I caught glimpses of the cinnamon color on the underside of its tail. When it landed, its two faint, whitish wing bars and pale, yellow belly became more visible.
It lives in semiarid country with dry scrub and open woodlands of oak, pinyon pine, juniper, mesquite, etc. There is only the occasional sighting of this bird here at Mount Pisgah. According to the range maps, this part of the Willamette Valley appears to be the upper part of its range west of the Oregon Cascades. A testimony to their suitability for dry habitats is that they don’t need to drink water. They get it all from the food they eat.
Its diet consists mostly of insects and spiders that it catches in midair or gleans from foliage. It will supplement its diet with small fruits such as mistletoe berries found in the oak trees throughout the arboretum.
The bird activity has slowed down at the arboretum as we get into the middle of summer and the nesting season wraps up. It is best to get out early in the morning before it gets hot or go out in the evening as the day cools down. Good luck and happy birding.
Resources
Ash-Throated Flycatcher Life History, All About Birds, Cornell Lab of Ornithology. https://www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/Ash-throated_Flycatcher/lifehistory. Accessed 19 July 2024.
Peterson, Roger Tory, et al. Peterson Field Guide to Birds of Western North America. 4th ed, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, 2010.
Balancing Time
I am sitting on a riverbed
looking for stones to balance.
They clank against each other
as I look through them.
None of them are the same,
but they all belong together.
I pick them up
one at a time and
assess their stackability.
I feel their weight
as the gravity
of the earth
pulls on their bodies.
I feel their warmth
as they lie there
soaking in the fire
of the sun.
I feel their texture and shape,
the wearing river
smoothing their bodies.
I stack them up
carefully resting one
on top of the other.
Sometimes they topple
and mix in with the other rocks.
I pick them up again.
I reuse some of the same ones
and find new ones.
I am reminded of a story.
I want to tell you about a time
that my dad went fishing.
This is not a fish story,
although he had many of those.
He often floated a stream
that flows through Virginia called the New River.
He liked this particular section
because the fishing was good
and the boat launches
were easy to use.
He had a small, aluminum boat
with an electric motor
that he used to navigate
and propel the boat.
He also used a paddle
in calmer sections.
It was comfortable to sit in.
One day, he was fishing this
stretch of the river
and came to a spot in the middle
of the river where he decided
to put the anchor out.
He was sitting there tying on a lure
and noticed a doe and two fawns
walking along the shore.
He watched them as they
quietly browsed along the water’s edge.
Suddenly, they stopped
and looked back downstream
intently pointing their ears
in that direction.
My dad saw a dog
coming towards them.
The two fawns went up the bank
and disappeared into a thicket.
The doe walked into the river
where it got a little deeper.
She crouched in the water,
submerged her body,
raised her head,
and left only her nose sticking
out of the water.
The dog came to where the deer
were standing and excitedly sniffed around.
Unable to find anything,
he quickly moved on.
A few minutes later, the doe slowly
stood up and cautiously looked around.
Seeing that the dog had moved on,
she walked out of the river
and went up the bank
in the direction of the two fawns.
Black-headed Grosbeak Nest
A pair of black-headed grosbeaks successfully raised two babies in this nest. It was right above a trail and low enough that as I walked under it I could have reached up and touched the bottom of the nest. The grosbeak parents were always cautious when approaching the nest. They usually waited nearby for a moment before flying up to the nest. When they decided to go to the nest, they swooped in quickly. The babies reached up with open mouths to receive food, but I didn’t hear them make any begging calls. They were always quiet or at least quiet enough to where I couldn’t hear them.
I took these photos primarily to show you how airy the nest is. When I walked under it and glanced up, I was always amused that I could see the birds. That said, this nest is sturdier than it looks. This twiggy conglomeration usually stays in the tree for a year or more. Even after this winter’s devastating ice storm that took down so many trees and branches, I saw a grosbeak nest in an osoberry shrub that was still there. It seems remarkable considering how loosely constructed they appear to be.
Nature is an inexhaustible source of wonder. I look forward to seeing you out there.
Western Wood-Pewee Nest
I found a Western Wood-Pewee nest that was low enough on a limb where you could watch it and see what was going on. I called Patrick at the arboretum and we met to look at it through his scope. He can attach his phone to the scope and we took these photos. Thanks Patrick!
It was fun watching the parents feed nestlings. The babies would open their bills wide and stretch their heads as high as possible. After they were fed, they would lay their heads down on the side of the nest and rest. The three babies are already filling up the nest. The parents have to perch on the side, wiggle their way over them to sit on the nest, and still can’t completely cover them. The babies were so beautiful with the morning sunlight illuminating their down feathers.
All About Birds by The Cornell Lab writes: “The female builds a dense and compact nest out of grasses, plant fibers, bark, and plant down. She uses spiderwebs to bind the nesting material together and camouflages the outside of the nest with mosses, bud scales, and insect skins. She lines the inside with fine grasses and feathers. It takes her anywhere from 3 days to 2 weeks to complete the nest, which measures about 3 inches wide and 2.5 inches tall.”
This is a fun bird to watch and get to know. Happy birding and I hope to see you out there!
Ode to Butterflies
There’s a map of sorts—
a dreamscape
that tumbles out
of a box of celestial crayons
when you are born.
It’s a bewildering tangle
of squiggly lines
drawn by the flip-floppy flight
of butterflies.
The only person
who can read it
or follow it
is the squealing,
summer-soaked child
with a berry-stained mouth
and skinned knees
spinning in circles
under the bright
blue sky
with a compass
that points to
laughter and delight
in every direction
that lives
inside of you.
Petrophila Moths
This is a tiny moth and moths can be hard to find because they are well-camouflaged and like to stay hidden during the day. I usually see moths when I accidentally disturb them from the side of a tree, in the grass, etc. Last year while I was on an insect walk Karen Richards showed us these extraordinary moths flitting along the river.
If you can see where one lands and slowly go over to it, you will see how beautiful its coloration and markings are. Its wings fold over the back of its body like an elegant cape with shimmering sequins ringed by black at the base with a little fringe below.
These moths have an amazing life cycle. Read what the BugGuide said about Petrophila confusalis: “Adult females enter the water, up to 4 meters deep, to oviposit (200 - 300 eggs), carrying a plastronlike layer of air as a source of oxygen that sustains them from 4 to 12 hours. After ovipositing they die in the water. Some females only submerge partially, without fully breaking the water tension, and deposit eggs shallowly over several days.”
This little moth is a reminder to me to slow down and notice the small creatures. They are beautiful and can have miraculous stories. I hope that you are enjoying your summer.
Resource
Species Petrophila Confusalis - Confusing Petrophila - Hodges#4780. https://bugguide.net/node/view/39602. Accessed 29 June 2024.
Indigo Bunting
The indigo bunting,
an ethereal blue flame
flickering in the sun,
delivers a message.
Along the waistline
of the earth
there is a swirling naval
from where imagination,
creativity,
wonder and love
gush out
of the belly of Mother Earth.
You don’t need to go
looking for it.
You are connected to it
through your heart,
through nature.
Looking Closer
It was a nice quiet evening at the arboretum. I was standing at the edge of the meadow just south of the pavilion trying to get at an angle where I could get a look at an oriole nest. I got a little distracted when a couple of goldfinches flew down into the grass in front of me to eat some seeds. As I watched them, I became captivated by the colors and shapes of all the grass seeds in the meadow. As I explored the ones in front of me, I noticed that they had insects on them that looked like grass seeds. Their bodies mimicked the shape of the seeds and their antennae looked like the spike coming off the top of the seeds. I was fascinated at how well they blended in and resembled the seeds. You can also see the long tubular mouth part called a rostrum used for piercing and sucking out plant juices, probably from the grass. As I was trying to take a photo of one, it reared back and appeared to be extending its ovipositor into one of the seeds to lay its eggs. I became absorbed for quite a while in the grass and found many more creatures living there. It is easy to become distracted by the abundance of life bustling about in the warmth of summer. I did eventually circle back and find the oriole nest. The parents would occasionally fly down into the meadow in search for food, and I imagine found some of these insects to take back to their hungry, begging babies.
I uploaded this photo into iNaturalist and it suggested that this was a plant bug in the genus Megaloceroea in the Miridae family.
Myrmecochory
Myrmecochory (pronounced: muhr-muh-koh-KOR-ee) is the dispersal of fruits and seeds by ants. I love this word!
At the arboretum, there are three plants (trillium, bleeding heart, and the inside-out flower) with seeds that have a white, oil-rich appendage known as an elaiosome, which is attractive to ants. They will collect the seed to eat the elaiosome and then discard the seed, thus helping to disperse it.
This one is the seed of the inside-out flower. The pods split open and curl back into interesting, wavy shapes revealing beautiful red seeds nestled in foamy white elaiosomes. I imagine them being a delicate French pastry in the case of a bakery in Paris.
I put these seeds on a well-traveled ant trail and they immediately were attracted to them. Interestingly, they removed the elaiosome in pieces and carried it off. They didn't take the seed with the elaiosome attached back to the nest to process it. I watched them for an hour and a half dismantle one of the elaiosomes and leave the seed behind a small distance from where I had placed it.
When I watched ants tear open the pods of the trillium, they also took the elaiosome off the seed and discarded the seed next to the plant. They didn’t transport it back to the nest to remove the elaiosome. I took the bleeding heart seeds, put them on the same ant highway, and the ants took them away within a minute without first removing the elaiosome from the seed. Maybe those seeds were smaller or lighter which made them easier to transport.
Seeds are amazing, and I recommend checking out the ways they travel across the landscape. They can fly through the air, float on water, attach to the fur of animals, roll across the ground, launch as the seed pod bursts open, and be carried off by birds or insects.
Nature is an inexhaustible source of wonder. I hope to see you out there.
Bobcat
There is so much
I want to tell you
and most of it
is not in words.
There aren’t any
to describe the quiet
footfalls of a cat
as it gently allows
its weight to shift
from one paw to the next.
I can’t speak it
because it is silent.
I could only have you
lay down by the river
and feel the gravity
of the earth.
Ask you to surrender
to its embrace
and let it fill your heart.
Then I’ll tenderly
press my hand onto
your body in reverence
and gratitude for your being.
Yellow-breasted Chat
In the south meadow, a bird is making a cacophony of sounds. Its repertoire of vocalizations is a mishmash of whistles, hiccups, zings, whirling toots, clacks, and squawks bustling with merriment. It sounds like a mini carnival has rolled into town.
Meet the yellow-breasted chat. I say “meet” if you are lucky enough to see it. It mostly stays tucked away in the underbrush as it sings away right in front of you. Lately, it has been hanging out in an island of vegetation consisting of an ash tree, a thicket of blackberries, a cluster of willows, and dense snowberry shrubbery.
I am considering setting up a booth in front of its little haven and calling it Find the Birdie. I’ll wear a bright yellow suit with a dapper top hat. Step right up folks and find the birdie. Zip-zurple Toot. He’s in there somewhere. Burp Whirdle Peep. He could be down low in the willow. Pop Crackle Gulp. Or maybe a little higher up in the canopy of the ash. Caw Chortle Cluck. Try your luck. It’s only a buck!
Luckily, I caught a glimpse of it as it briefly popped into the open and as if to take a bow in recognition of its vocal performance. It’s a beautiful bird, and it was well worth the time and effort to see it. I hope you are enjoying the spring. Happy Birding!
Chickadee Fledgling
I heard a bird begging and saw a couple of black-capped chickadees zipping about scouring the understory of plants looking for food. I found the fledgling nearby quietly sitting on a branch looking at its new, beautiful world. If a parent came near, it would start begging and open its mouth wide ready to receive nourishment. I like the photo that I captured below showing the parent briefly pausing as it turns to fly away in search of more food. It looks like the unshaven, disheveled dad who’s a little weary from caring for his kids. His eye looks a tad puffy from lack of rest and seems to be looking at me as if to say, “Put down the camera and help me find some caterpillars!” The fledgling is lovingly turning towards him as he flies away. One of the things that always comes to mind when I see a fledgling chickadee is that it is one of the few times I see a chickadee sit still on a branch. These action-packed birds never seem to stop moving, but a fledgling will often perch in the same spot for a bit and maybe nap a little. Happy birding!
