May 24, 2009

From my notes. August 2007 :

A bolus of hair-filled scat tells us that coyotes have returned to the forest. Bill spends long minutes in a sniffing frenzy,

Dog?
Not-dog.
Here.
And here.

Pulls me to the brushy places at the edge of the trail.

Here!
Here!
Here!

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We began to see more scat on the forest trails. Sometimes there would be new piles every day. The feral rabbits disappeared, one by one. We found their remains; one time bloody and raw, as if we had interrupted a meal.

Reports of coyote sightings began to predominate the forest gossip.

~We saw one on the spine trail, early yesterday. It watched us, then disappeared.

~Two of them flanked us as we walked by the old hatchery, escorted us up the trail and then turned back towards the lake.

~They have a den.

Our first sighting came last spring. Mid April, on a side path ripe with Trilliums. I stopped to admire them, stood quietly as my attention wandered from their sunlit flowers upward to the voices of the birds around us.

*********************************************************

From my notes. April 2008:

There is no warning. Just Bill lunging away from me, snapping the connection between leash and collar. He's gone before I can regain my balance. All I see is a grey blur leaping over a fallen snag, a second red blur in close pursuit. There is barking. Bill's voice and a second. Sharper, intense.

And silence. I call,

Bill! Come!!

No response. Bill always returns when I call.

Bill! Bill-the-Dog! Come!

Rustling in the brush. A grey head pops up, yellow eyes watching me. One small coyote steps forward onto the path, ears up, tail down. Stops. Barks the sharp bark. Again. Again.

I respond,

You go on now. Go do your business. Go. Go!

and look away from the yellow eyes, worried now that there is no sign of my dog. Work my way back towards the trail, where I can loop around the coyote to the area where Bill was headed when I saw him last.

The barking continues. I walk up the trail to a second side path and am relieved to see a red shape coming towards me. Bill's size. Bill's shape. Bill's bushy tail. Bill's pointed ears.

Bill! Come here you silly .....

Yellow eyes.
Not Bill.
Not-dog.

The barking continues, behind me now. I back away from the red coyote, understanding that these two, grey and red, are a pair. Her barking brought him to her. This is their house today. I'm the uninvited guest.

My loop around the coyotes has just gotten longer. They watch silently as I turn and walk down the trail. They do not follow me.

I find the main spine trail at the bottom of the hill, head south, calling,

Bill-the Dog!! Come!!

Walk up past the places where the two side paths join the spine trail, cautious now at the prospect of meeting the coyotes again. The paths are empty. The spine trail is empty.

Here, Bill!

Walk up past the Grandfather tree to where the spine trail begins to bend. Two Bald Eagles call to each other above me.

Bill is sitting in the middle of the spine trail, just past the bend. Ears down, panting. I call him. He remains seated, quickly glances to his left into the trees, then right. Pants harder. I call him again and he rises slowly, tail tucked between his legs, makes more quick jumpy glances to either side as he slouches towards me. He curls himself around my legs when we meet, buries his face in the space between my knees, trembling.

I snap on the leash. He pulls me hard towards home.

Photo: Bill-the-Dog. Copyright, C. M. Alexander 2009

May 21, 2009

The roost tree was empty today. There were no hissy whines near the nest tree, no crows screaming in the treetops.

Instead:
Faded Dogwood flowers.
A pair of Winter Wrens yelling at us from both sides.
Honeybees feeding on Thimbleberry blossoms.

Monday, May 18, 2009

May. The forest changes dramatically from week to week. I can't quite keep up with it.

Cool today. Filtered sun. Today is Volcano Day: Mount Saint Helens erupted 29 years ago at 8:32 in the morning. No ash fell on the forest that day.

Photo: Sword Fern (Polystichum munitum), Lady Fern (Athyrium felix-femina) and Enchanter's Nightshade (Circaea alpina)

PLANTS:
New growth on all of the forest's native conifers: Douglas Fir, Western Red Cedar, Western Hemlock, Grand Fir.

Most of the the deciduous trees are completely leafed out: Vine Maple, Big-leaf Maple, Red Alder, Cottonwood. Western Dogwood in full bloom throughout the forest. Crabapple just budding. The willows have leafed out.

Salmonberry setting delicate green fruit. Osoberry fruit the size of small beans, dangling pale yellow. Thimbleberry beginning to bloom. Red Huckleberry continues to bloom. Heavy rains last week left many of its flowers on the forest floor. Evergreen Huckleberry leafing out, with blossoms on the most protected plants. Red Elderberry blossoms have faded, no fruit yet. The first Serviceberry flowers shine white against the darkening shade. Ocean Spray, Spirea, and Snowberry have yet to bloom.

Photo : Salmonberry (Rubus spectabilis) sepals, anthers and stamens.

Oregon Grape blossoms are gone, replaced by tiny green/yellow/red fruit. Salal flowering.

Honeysuckle throwing out robust new tendrils.

Bright yellow Large Geum flowers brush my calves as I walk by them. They have no fragrance. Fringecup flower stems are completely unfurled now, their clinging fragrance always a surprise. Like lilies with a low note of dirty socks. Starflower blooming, the old flowers pink, the new flowers white. They are hard to find, preferring the deeper shadows. Vanilla Leaf grows in a single protected niche between three Douglas Firs. Each year there are one or two more, but they have not thrown out flowers quite yet.

Photo left: Large Geum (Geum macrophyllum)
Photo right: Starflower (Trientalis latifolia)

Stinging Nettle flowers on plants that are waist high now in the brightest damp places. Fairy Lantern leafed out but no flowers yet. Enchanter's Nightshade is just beginning to show flower buds.

Dewberry sprawl wherever the landscape has been disturbed. There are more than I remember from years past. These are my favorite blackberry. I hope that they set fruit this year, and that I can find the fruit before the birds do.

Lady Fern predominate in the damp places. Bracken Fern stand waist high in some places, in other places the foragers have found them and there is nothing left except a bluntly cut off stem. Next year these will be smaller, having no leaves to gather energy this season. At some point they will disappear if they continue to be harvested in this way. New Sword Fern are everywhere, bright green. Wood Fern grace the stumps and fallen snags. DeerFern hide in the most protected parts of the forest, are just unfurling now. A few have thrown out fertile fronds. Licorice Fern has gone dormant. It will reappear in the late summer.

Photo: Lady Fern (Athyrium felix-femina)

There are mushrooms and slime molds and wonderful fungi, but I do not know their names.

BIRDS:
In the forest -
Bald Eagle present in both nests, Sharp-shinned Hawks copulating near their nest, Barred Owl and owlets, Anna's Hummingbird, Rufous Hummingbird, Winter Wren, Bewick's Wren, Chestnut-backed Chickadee, Black-capped Chickadee, American Crow, Steller's Jay, Northern Flicker, Pileated Woodpecker, Downy Woodpecker, Brown Creeper, Red-Breasted Nuthatch, Spotted Towhee, Hutton's Vireo, American Robin, Song Sparrow, Yellow-rumped Warbler, Western Tanager, Western Wood-Peewee.

ANIMALS:
Fresh Mountain Beaver and Townsend's Mole tunnels.

From a Barred Owl pellet, the pelvis of a Creeping Vole.

One Douglas squirrel, scolding.

Bumblebees.

The local millipede, Harpaphe haydeniana, black with yellow racing stripes.

Shiny black beetles, the size of the first joint of my index finger.

Earthworms.

Small pale white moths.

Gnats and tiny spiders. Spider silk glistens in the empty spaces.

All images copyright 2009, C. M Alexander.

May 14, 2009

Listen to the crows. They will almost always tell you something interesting.

I hear them almost immediately on entering the forest. A single "caw" and then a chorus from the flock, voices rising in intensity and pitch and more. They have something in their sights, near the area of the roost tree.

As we get close they fall almost silent. Just single voices,

"Caw."

"Caw".

"Caw".

The roost is empty. Now is the time to stand. To wait.

I lean up against a cedar snag by the roost, scan the canopy for a sign. Nothing. A Winter Wren breaks into an operatic trill below me. Robin answers. A motorboat works its way up the western bay, accelerates as it reaches the northern tip of the peninsula. Its sound fades as it plows into the open water of the lake.

Now just leaves rustling, Bill panting by my side.

The crows speak. One harsh "Caw" and then the rest joining in, each voice more harsh, almost desperate. I look up. A quick shadow breaks from the canopy, pale and wide winged, a half dozen crows in screaming pursuit. An adult Barred Owl, just a glimpse as it finds cover in the branches of another fir. The crows surround it, above, below. Bow toward it as they yell,

"Caw!" "Caw!" "Caw!"

The owl hisses back.

And silence, again.

We wait.

A Brown Creeper flutters down to the base of a cedar just 15 feet from me, works its way back up the trunk, pecking for insects, "Tik. Tik. Tik." A Spotted Towhee works the duff behind me. Creeper flutters down again, a brown leaf falling in my peripheral vision, works its way back up again, "Tik. Tik. Tik." A Song Sparrow sings. Down by the lake children laugh. Bill whines, bored with all of the waiting.

The crows lose interest in this game, fly off one by one to find something more enticing deeper in the forest.

"Tik. Tik. Tik." Creeper continues its quest for bugs in the crevices of the cedar. Winter Wren breaks into another aria. The canopy rustles. Towhee works the duff.

And above these sounds, another. A high hissy whine, rising in pitch, "Hsseet?" Hsssseeeeet?" Then an answer, deeper and more resonant. The adult breaks cover, flies into the canopy and perches in the branches of a Douglas Fir. Leans over to a fuzzy, bean shaped youngster, who reaches back and takes something with a long skinny tail from its parent's beak.

Photo: Barred Owl Branchlet. Copyright 2009. C. M. Alexander

May 13, 2009

Michelle calls from the forest. She hears owlets, just up the path from the roost tree. A half hour later I find her sitting under a snag, pointing upward.

"Here."

We spend another half hour looking up into the canopy, listening. There are two Douglas Fir snags, one tall, one half the size. Either would be a good candidate for a nest. Both reach into the canopy, Big-leaf Maple leaves the size of my open hand, difficult to see through.

The sounds have stopped. Our necks hurt. The dogs are bored. We see nothing except the canopy, cool and green.

Sunday May 03, 2009

The spring canopy closes over us as we enter the forest. I keep my sweater on under dappled shade.

PLANTS:
Acid-green Big-leaf Maple (Acer macrophyllum) blossoms are scattered over the trail. I try not to crush them underfoot, but there are too many. Western Dogwood (Cornus nuttallii) trees in bloom on the west side of the ridge, just budding on the east side.

Last year's Douglas Fir (Pseudotsuga menziesii) cones falling.

Osoberry (Oemleria cerasiformis) has leafed out throughout the forest, its fruit beginning to set. Salmonberry (Rubus spactabilis) is in full magenta bloom. Red Huckleberry (Vaccinium parvifolium) flowers are few this year, and only on the most protected plants. Red Elderberry (Sambucus racemosa) in bloom. Thimbleberry (Rubus parviflorus) throwing out new growth, the new stems and leaves sharply fragrant to the touch. Baldhip Rose (Rosa gymnocarpa) leafing out, as are Ocean Spray (Holodiscus discolor) and Serviceberry (Amelanchier alnifolia).

A few Evergreen Huckleberry (Vaccinium ovatum) are beginning to show new growth. Oregon grape (Berberis aquifolium) in full sweet fragrant blossom. Salal (Gaultheria shallon) is slow to leaf out this spring.

Fringecup (Tellema grandifolia) flower stems have uncurled in spikes above the leaves, the blossoms just opening. False mitrewort (Tiarella trifoliata) will be late this year. Large geum (Geum macrophyllum) just beginning to flower. Starflower (Trientalis latifolia) leaves shine on the forest floor, the flower buds just beginning to appear. Stinging nettle (Urtica dioica) is thigh high in some places. Pathfinder (Adenocaulon bicolor) are slow this year; there are not as many as in past years. Fairy Lanterns (Disporum hookeri) leafed out. Enchanter's Nightshade (Circaea alpina) fills the niches on the forest floor.

Dewberry (Rubus ursinus) beginning to sprawl across the duff. Strawberry (Fragaria vesca) leafed out.

Lady fern (Athyrium filix-femina) covers the forest floor in some areas. Bracken fern (Pteridium aquilinum) stand waist high in some places. Sword fern (Polystichum munitum) almost unfurled; last year's fronds never quite recovered from the crushing weight of two week's snowpack. Licorice Fern (Polypodium vulgare) fading. Deer fern (Blechnum spicant) still dormant.

BIRDS:
In the forest -
Bald Eagle, Sharp-shinned Hawk, Red-tailed Hawk, Anna's Hummingbird, Barred Owl, Rufous Hummingbird, Winter Wren, Bewick's Wren, Chestnut-backed Chickadee, Black-capped Chickadee, American Crow, Steller's Jay, Northern Flicker, Pileated Woodpecker, Downy Woodpecker, Brown Creeper, Red-Breasted Nuthatch, Spotted Towhee, Hutton's Vireo, Robin, Hermit Thrush, Song Sparrow, Yellow-rumped Warbler, European Starling.

By the lake -
Pied-billed Grebe, Bufflehead, Gadwall, Mallard, Ring-necked Duck, Common Merganser, Canada Goose, American Crow, Red-winged Blackbird, Song Sparrow, Violet-green Swallow, Barn Swallow, Vaux Swift, Glaucous-winged Gull.

ANIMALS:
Coyote scat on the spine trail near the Grandfather tree. Fresh, with compacted grey hair but no bone fragments, probably Black Rat.

From a Barred Owl pellet under the roost tree, jawbones from a single Trowbridge Shrew.

Western Gray Squirrel.

Photo: Sword Fern, unfurling. Copyright 2009. C. M. Alexander