WEEK 6

Date: Monday, May 13, 2013
Weather: Partly cloudy, moments after a torrential downpour
Temperature: ~60 degrees F
Time: 2:00pm - 3:00pm
Location: Ravenna Park

A repeat view of my site

After a relentlessly busy weekend yet fun-filled weekend, it was entirely refreshing to take some time and visit my observation site, with nothing but my weekly task and bird watching to fill my head. I headed home from school around 1:30pm, and had all night to visit my site. However, at around 1:50pm, the heavens opened up and I watched from the leaky windows of my 100 year old house one of the largest storms I have seen. With thunder, lightning, and sheets of rain that fell like the hoses used in poorly made films, I had all but written off my trip to the park. If I couldn't see past my front steps because of rain.. the chances I would be able to observe birds was rare. However, just moments later, the rain let up and the sun began to shine through the clouds. Roofs were steaming and our windows filled with condensation. My roommates quickly urged, "Go now! Godspeed!" so, with an 80% chance of precipitation in the coming hour, I was off to my homeless abode in Ravenna Park. 

When I arrived at my site, big rain drops continued to fall from the towering Bigleaf Maples and everything in my site was, soaked, dripping, and soggy. Ravenna Creek that flows through my site was at an all-time high, running briskly through the woods and looking to have gained inches in a matter of minutes. The water was a chocolate brown, murky and even had waves. Normally I can see straight through the water, no more than six inches deep, today however, I couldn't even see my finger when I dunked it below the surface. 

When I got to my site, I immediately began looking for birds, knowing that this task would take the most of my time. I often don't have any luck when it comes to birds, and little know-how on how to approach and observe them. In a rare moment of brilliance, I saw three very small birds claiming territory of the bridge at my observation site, before I even set foot within my boundaries. At first glance, I assumed that within this flock of three birds were identical, however, one bird was distinct from the rest. My favorite bird to observe, the one most susceptible to my recordings, I believe to be a Wrentit (Chamaea fasciata) due to it's high-pitched, yet pleasing chuurr call that it unceasingly repeated during my time in the park. This chuurr also gives the clue into its personality and show me that the bird is territorial, defending its space or attractive females with its call. The Wrentit stayed very close to the ground, hopping and chirping along the bridge, mud and pathways, only flying so high as to land on branches that crossed the water to repeat it's song from a greater standpoint. It was all brown, slightly puffy, chubby and cute looking, with a thin bill and long, thin tail that was cocked the entire time. They are known to be found in dense shrubs, which is true of its return to covered sword fern thickets and within mossy, ground cover areas. Its wings flit very fast, becoming almost transparent as it would fly between the branches, reminiscent of a hummingbird, yet much larger in size.

I believe that this bird was defending its territory from the Song Sparrow (Melospiza melodia). Although I regretfully did not hear the call of this small bird, it's characteristics tell me that the Song Sparrow, grayish-brown in color and found in shrubs, marshes, parks, and watersides is exactly what this is. Slightly smaller than the Wrentit, with a fairly long, pointed tail without pattern and more relaxed wing movements, the Song Sparrow also stayed close to the forest floor, hopping around and pecking at the mud throughout my observations. One of the Sparrows would get attacked every minute or so from the Wrentit, and seemed to be bullied out of the space. I tried to get a closer look in order to look for the dark brown spot on its chest, but was too large and loud (no matter how hard I tried), and scared them away.

As I was standing still, looking closely at the interactions of these birds, I saw a faint glimpse of a new species that hurriedly ran from Sword fern to Sword fern, caught only by my peripheral vision. I waited almost twenty minutes to catch another look at this illusive bird and was left unsatisfied. Though the coloring was similar to a Woodpecker, with bright reds, white, and blacks, I am going to identify this smaller bird, found only on the muddy, swampy floor to be a Spotted Towhee (Pipilo maculatus). Found in thickets and forest underbrush in Western Washington, this bird has red eyes and is known to scratch on the ground under brush. I did not hear its call, nor see it's tail, but the distinctly bright red chest and white stripes near its black wings look familiar and promising. Also, I thought I saw two black stripes around the eye of the bird, which is not seen in the Spotted Towhee, showing that I could be wrong. 

A few other observations collected during my first individual 'birding' experience were less defined, yet still notable. I kept thinking that I saw a bird moving on the ground or within the brush, but time and time again this movement was only created from falling raindrops on the leaves. Along with calls that I am not experienced enough to identify, I could easily distinguish a number of crow calls, such as that from the American Crow (Corvus brachyrhynchos). This bird was calling and flying above the tops of the Bigleaf maples, much higher than the small birds I took a favor to observing. Also, as I sat as still as possible for upwards of ten minutes, I witnessed a small brown bird climbing its way up the trunk of a Grand fir (Abies grandis), pecking into the bark and looking for bugs. At any given moment, the bird would dive-bomb straight down, back into the ground cover on the forest floor. It was too far away for me to see any identifiable physical features without binoculars, and it made no calls during my observation. The last bird I witnessed was an American Robin (Turdus migratorius), flying gently from shrub to tree amidst Bigleaf Maples and Grand Firs.

I spotted the Spotted Towhee in the central dark space in this image,
running from Sword Fern to Sword Fern

The American Robin (Turdus migratorius) flew from the diagonal branch
in the top-left to center of this image, across Ravenna Creek and out of my site

Below are some pictures featured from my regular, weekly observations. A few notable differences were the change overall growth in greenery and shrubby species throughout the park. For example, my "Common Horsetail" was no longer so common and much larger than ever seen before. Some of the per-pubescent stalks even reached as high as my thighs, causing me to believe that they are rather the Giant Horsetail (Equisetum telmateia). I also found grasses among the horsetails and Skunk Cabbage that I had not seen before, and forgot the rhyme entirely at my time of need. Thank god for Google.

Enjoy!

Nurse Log hosting at least four different species

Western Sword Fern with wilted stalks

Western Sword Fern with stalks flattened and
weighed down by the torrential rain

GIANT Lady Ferns!

Size comparison of the Lady Ferns to my foot

Relatively low level and clarity of Ravenna Creek on a sunny day in Week 5

A rise in the water level and murky coloration of Ravenna Creek after heavy rain in Week 6

Lung Liverwort (Marchantia polymorpha) on a rainy day in Week 1

Lung Liverwort (Marchantia polymorpha) on a sunny day in Week 5

Lung Liverwort (Marchantia polymorpha) just after the rain in Week 6

Possibly the *not so common* Giant Horsetail (Equisetum telmateia),
much larger than 24" tall

Vine Maple (Acer circinatum), leaves are opposite and have
7-9 toothed lobes

Vine Maple (Acer circinatum), sprawling tree with vine-like branches
(not a Thimbleberry)

Salmonberry (Rubus spectabilis) leaves are growing larger

Salmonberry (Rubus spectabilis) with berries!

(Possibly) Common Velvetgrass (Holcus lanatus) found West of the Cascades

(Possibly) Common Velvetgrass (Holcus lanatus) with 4" panicles
"...Grasses have nodes that are easily found"

Indian Plum (Oemleria cerasiformis) with flowers!
1/2" in size, greenish-white, funnel shaped, grow in clusters

On my journey home, I found a collection of small, clay-fired figurines that someone has displayed outside of their home. 

Stay weird awesome, Seattle.

WEEK 5

Date: Monday, May 6, 2013

Weather: Gorgeous! Warm breeze, not a cloud in the sky

Temperature: ~70 degrees F  
Time: 7:00pm - 8:00pm

Location: Ravenna Park

A repeat view of my site

This week gave dawn to a new series of observations at my little 'home by the creek' in Ravenna Park. Rather than observing the foliage and fauna around my location as usual, our new weekly task was to find and observe invertebrates. 

As almost anyone who knows me is aware, I am absolutely terrified of and have a strong dislike for any kind of 'bug'. Ever since I found out that I am highly allergic to fuzzy caterpillars, otherwise known as woolly worms or Arctiidae, at the age of seven, even ladybugs (Coccinella septempunctata) are beyond the reach of my love and acceptance. My journal entry this week will therefore tell the story of two foes, as I was sent into nature in search of my nemeses. It quickly became evident that they could smell my fear. 

Last week, 'WEEK 4' consisted of a Field Trip to the Olympic National Park, rather than a continuation of observations at our standard locations. For this reason, along with a lovely visit from the sun, my observation site seemed to bloom and grow right before my eyes. The sword ferns I had been so familiar with were almost two times taller and larger, as well as the absence of catkins on the Bigleaf Maples and an increased leaf-size on the Vine Maples, which were even larger than those on the Bigleaf Maples and other surrounding species. 

Vine Maple (Acer circinatum) in Week 5

Vine Maple (Acer circinatum) in Week 3

I also noticed a growth in the Lady Ferns (Athyrium felix-femina), horse tails (Equisetum arvense), and the Pacific Bleeding Heart (dicentra formosa) as well as a change in the Lung Liverwort (Marchantia polymorpha) moss on my erratic. The sun seems to have taken all moisture from the Liverwort's characteristic bubble-like and leathery surface, creating one that appeared gray and dried up in comparison to my first week of observations.

Lung Liverwort (Marchantia polymorpha) in Week 5

Lung Liverwort (Marchantia polymorpha) in Week 1

Large Lady Fern (Athyrium felix-femina)

Giant, pubescent horse tails (Equisetum arvense)

Growth found in a patch of Pacific Bleeding Heart (dicentra formosa)

Now to the relevant, assigned portion of my exploration. Once at Ravenna Park, I spent most of my time waiting, and searching for species. When I did have the opportunity to view an invertebrate, I spent my time examining species and looking closely at their behaviors and how they moved. Within two separate spaces, one square meter in size each, I was able to closely observe four different species.

I was drawn to my first site as I followed the path of a bumblebee (Bombus). The bumblebee was large for a bee, very fuzzy and dark black with a small yellow stripe. With wings included, he was about the size of the upper portion of my thumb and flew rather slow for a bug, and low to the ground. I first saw it flying low amongst the leaves of a Salmonberry shrub, and followed it to the base of a large, living Douglas Fir, that was covered in Big Shaggy Moss. Rather than flying up the tree trunk or searching for flowers, the bumblebee stayed very close to the ground, walking around on its legs, not utilizing its wings, and exploring the surface of the moss. He would walk around until he found a little hole, the perfect size for his body, and then burrow into the space head-first. Sometimes he would sit in the hole for a minute or two, and sometimes he would come back out and look for another hole. I'm not sure if these holes were created by the bumblebee or some other type of invertebrate, and I am not sure what he was doing in there. After working his way about three feet up the trunk of the tree, I believe that he heard or saw me and was scared off, flying directly toward me and then off into the distance. 

In the same site, while I was observing the bumblebee, I also saw a very tiny, reddish-colored spider. At first, I had mistaken the spider for an ant because I could not count its legs, however once balanced on a spear of grass, it was apparent that my little friend was a spider. From the order Acari and family Tetranychidae, I am unsure of the spider's specific name. It preferred covered areas, moved very quickly, and could climb while upside down.

A few other invertebrates I witnessed on my adventure were the million-billion mosquitoes (Anopheles quadrimaculatus) that ate me alive. I blame myself for choosing a location near the water, and also for choosing to visit my site at dusk. However, I blame my father for having 'sweet blood' and the mosquitoes for the six bites I got. The mosquitoes were about the size of my fingernail and very daring. If I failed to notice, they could give me a bite in 10 seconds or less (without any provocation). 

I also saw swarms of little gnats, one crane fly, and possibly a deer fly.

Bumblebee (Bombus), black dot at center-right

Two holes, seen at the center of the image, where the Bumblebee was burrowing

I thought it was going to attack me... Run away!

My second spot , however, was slightly off of the beaten bath, at the edge of my typical observation range. Rather than turning over heavy rocks or wading through Ravenna Creek, I chose to hangout with a fallen tree, half submerged in a portion of the Ravenna Creek. This log was sitting casually on the ground and provided the ideal platform for invertebrate observations. Although the log was substantially too large to roll over or move on my own (believe me, I tried), its bark was beginning to peel away on the top surface. I slowly lifted a portion of the bark, about the size of a my spread hand, in order to make my observations. When finished, I naturally returned the piece to its original position. My invertebrate observations beneath the bark occurred as follows: 

I found a small earthworm (Lumbricus), as well as a millipede (Harpaphe haydeniana), and a number of almost microscopic spider-looking species and small spots of larvae. The worm was quite disturbed by my presence, as I begrudgingly inspected his home and his reaction to my involvement. At first, he began to quickly slide away, searching for the dark, moist safety of the log-cover. However, after crawling over not even four inches of bark, he seemed to get tired. For almost ten minutes he sat in the same spot, unmoving and unresponsive to the world around him. I thought he may have been playing dead, and as soon as I caught site of another species, he began once more to wriggle away into the confines of his wooden home. 

The millipede was likely my favorite discovery and actually fun to observe. The plethora of tiny feet that carry the millipede make him distinct from any other species and also make him very fast. While the worm projected itself by sliding through it's own skin repeated, as a single muscle, the millipede gracefully projected himself forward and around tight curves. Watching his path on the underside of the bark I lifted from the log looked similar to the video game "Snake" where you use the arrow-keys to control a small snake that big up coins along a path. However, instead of looking for coins, this millipede was more concerned with finding a dark space to hide and a place of retreat from my giant disturbance in his daily life. Alongside the millipede were tiny crawling ants or spiders that were too small to distinguish. Also, as I held the chunk of bark, the millipede came alarmingly close to my hand, which prompted the end of my discoveries. 

As I have now 'made friends' with nature, my goal for next week is to learn to love bugs in hopes that they will grow on me (NOT literally). I think that if I search for bugs that I have not seen before, such as those found under rocks and those in the water, I won't be as scared of them.

My first worm! An earthworm (Lumbricus)

Millipede (Harpaphe haydeniana)

It started moving quickly and I jumped back...

As I was bringing my venture to a close, I spotted a species in a patch of False Lily of the Valley that I had not seen before in Ravenna Park and definitely would not have found in the Old Growth Forest of the Olympic National Park. 

....... Plastic leaves. A species native to the U District.

WEEK 4 (Field trip!)

There and Back Again: A Student's Tale, by Megan Herzog

Journey to the Olympic Peninsula

(En route!)

We began our journey strong with an 8:00am departure time on Saturday morning of April the 27th. As 60 strangers loaded into six big, white, University buses, we left Seattle for the Olympic Peninsula and a few stops along the way. When crossing the Puget Sound by means of the Edmonds-Kingston ferry, I noticed one again, the familiar and outstanding skyline of the rugged Olympic Mountains. I learned on the ferry that the tallest peaks are Mt. Constance and The Brothers, and that they were formed by subduction, just as the Cascades were. Once on the peninsula, we made a stop at the S'klallam Reservation and learned the facts of their history and sadness of their lost stories, as well as their dependence on the knowledge of natural history to survive. The more I learn about plant identifications and their multiple uses and dangers, the harder I find it to wrap my head around  having only only local, naturally occurring products to survive. We then continued onward, our final destination of Barnes Point only a few more hours away.

Barnes Point

Date: Saturday, April 27, 2013

Weather: Mild, slight winds, mist and light showers

Temperature: ~50 degrees F

Time: ~2:00pm - 6:00pm

Location: Olympic National Park, Crescent Lake, Barnes Point, Barnes Creek

Morning view at Crescent Lake

What a treat it was to spend my weekend not only in a Temperate Rainforest, but an Old Growth Forest as well, for the first time in my life. My roommates, parents, friends, co-workers and peers can all vouch for the fact that I was mind blown by the nature I encountered in a little over 24-hrs time. Although the Olympic Peninsula has been sitting in Seattle's backyard for my entire life, I could never have imagined the grandiose nature of things, the amount of knowledge the forest would beg me to unpack, and the energy that grew all around me. I learned that Old Growth Forests are not entirely concerned with age, but rather, their complexities. The surrounding ecosystem was both biotic and abiotic, consumed by the energy of physical materials on the surface that transformed their energies to support the below-ground level systems. This holistic concept is influenced by the three main elements of an Old Growth Forest being:

1.  Structure: The trees, the physical and spatial arrangement of species, and how we utilize these natural occurrences. These species have a broad range in size and diversity, creating a mosaic of young and old in the bio-diversity of the forest floor.  

2.  Function: All of the work that is being done by the species.

3.  Composition: The assemblage of the species, each of which has specific and defining traits.

While exploring the Old Growth Forest of Barnes Point, I was amazed by a number of different species, both old and new, familiar and foreign. Many of the forest's 'keystone' species I observed were ones I had seen before, yet never at such an alarming and wondrous size.  These 'keystone' species, Douglas Fir, Grand Fir and Western Red Cedar, are the largest and grandest of the Old Growth Forest, standing as the backbone of its existence. This forest hosts four of the five grandest trees in the world, both in size and age, as they experience a great number of events through time. Another well-known tree seen on a massive scale in the forest was the Bigleaf Maple, coated from root to branch tip with Witch's Hair lichens and Lettuce Leaf lichens at their base. After the initial shock I got from entering a forest filled with these great beasts (trees), I was able to take a closer look at my surroundings and better understand what was happening around me.

'Keystone' Species 1: Douglas Fir (pseudotsuga menziesii)

'Keystone' Species 2: Grand Fir (abies grandis)

'Keystone' Species 3: Western Red Cedar (thuja plicata)

Every inch of the forest floor shown some example of the major themes of competition, facilitation, disturbance, and predation within and among species in the forest. My favorite observances were those that showed both disturbance and facilitation, which showed how the living organisms were able to fix themselves and help each other whenever the opportunity arose.

The Western Red Cedar is a prime example of how trees can overcome obstacles. Where many trees have been caught in forest fires, the fire does not always entirely engulf the bark in flame, leaving remnants of the living tissue behind. These remnants, just under the bark, continue to live and create new growth for as long as they are able to connect to the base, transferring energy from root to leaf. In this process, they even envelop and cover the scar created by the fire in order to become a whole tree once more.

Another disturbance of the Western Red Cedar can be seen when the top is damaged and broken off by wind and storms. At this point, new growth on the top of trees are able to create nutrient-rich soil and spur the growth of a new species, such as this Western Hemlock sapling that spurts from the top of a split trunk on a Western Red Cedar. This interaction leads into the next sign of facilitation in the forest.

Top Middle: Western Hemlock (tsuga heterophylla) sapling
spurts from the top of a broken Western Red Cedar (thuja plicata)

In continuing the theme of disturbances, Douglas Firs are known a known species with the special ability to recover. When broken off at the top, the Douglas Fir is able to activate its dormant buds underneath the bark to create new branches, called epidormic branches, that come out in sprays rather than sturdy shoots. These sprays contrast highly to the long and lateral, thick-stemmed primary branches that came before it.

In skipping along to another major theme that surrounded my forest adventures, I came across evidence of facilitation. Primary examples of this that I saw were Nurse logs facilitating Western Hemlocks, Bigleaf Maples facilitating Licorice Ferns and Douglas Firs with lichens. The nurse logs, trees that have faced a disturbance (and didn't come out on the winning side), provide the perfect habitat for the seedling of a Western Hemlock. As Western Hemlocks are shade tolerant trees, they can grow in an Old Growth Forest that is already heavily established. To grow free from competition, the Western Hemlocks get a boost from these fallen trees that little the forest floor, as well as nurse logs (short, broken stumps). As long as the Western Hemlock beats the race against time to attach its roots to the ground before the log decomposes, they will be given all of the nutrients and energy they need to start life on the right foot.. or root, might I say.

Nurse Log

The Licorice Ferns are epithetic in nature, growing from the bark of large trees such as the Bigleaf Maple. Another facilitating relationship is that of the heavy moss and Witch's Hair lichens that hang from large trees such as the Douglas Fir. Here, the moss has a nutrient-rich life at heights that have a greater amount of sunlight for photosynthesis.  During the summers, the Douglas Firs benefit from this relationship as well, pulling moisture from the spongy mosses that cling to its bark. 

Epithetic Licorice Ferns

Witch's Hair lichen (alectoria sarmentosa)

While wandering the forest paths, I came to a site that was especially intriguing. My observation site (for this weekend), is featured just off of a bend at Barnes Creek, providing a small and rocky shore that juts slightly out into the water. This site shows traces of both disturbance and facilitation. It also hosts a number of organisms such as shelf mushrooms that grow from a fallen log, perfect for sitting on. I can see hanging lichens from a Red Alder (alnus rubra), and a wall of sword ferns that coat the northern face of a slope that spills down under my feet, sinking into the river below. These ferns help to hold the ground of the slope and provide a stable platform for the small species around it. Interestingly enough, the large trees that line the slope all seem to hang and have fallen over, sliding down the sides of both slopes into the river, creating a pile of logs at the center of the bend. Where I sit, it appears that these logs have accumulated purely from notwithstanding their own gravitational weight while their roots gave way on the hillside. If this is not the case, I might say that this pile of logs could be the product of a large flood as they were deposited at the corner while the water rushed around the creek bend. Some of my favorite species are found at this site. These species are Devil's Club and Palmated Cult's Foot, which are located just off of the man-made path in a dense thicket of ground cover. Both of these plants appear alienated and foreign and are unlike any plant I have ever seen before. The Devil's Club is extraordinary both in its defense mechanisms as well as its nutrient-rich and nourishing leaf qualities. 

View up-stream at Barnes Creek

Devil's Club (oplopanax horridus): thorny/spiny stalk

Devil's Club (oplopanax horridus): luscious green leaf

Palmated Cult's Foot (petasites frigidus)

Palmated Cult's Foot leaf (petasites frigidus)

   
Apart from these two species claiming the title as my 'favorites', I found a number of other interesting species that I had either never seen before, or found particularly intriguing and beautiful. While looking closely at their characteristics and taking notes, I began to feel a lot like a natural historian myself, which was awesome.

Scenic view of Marymere Falls

Western Trillium (trillium ovatum)

Hooker's Fairybell (disporum hookeri)

Pacific Bleeding Heart (dicentra formosa)

Salt Creek

Date: Sunday, April 28, 2013

Weather: Mild, some sun, strong winds

Temperature: ~55 degrees F

Time: ~10:30am - 1:00pm

Location: Strait of Juan de Fuca, Tongue Point, Salt Creek

Low-tide view of Tongue Point

The second half of our weekend-getaway consisted of a close look at organisms found at Tongue Point on the peninsula, a spit that reaches out into the Straight of Juan de Fuca. The arrival at this site was perfectly planned to coincide with low-tide, giving us the greatest optimal range of exploration. I was quickly engulfed by 'beach-life' as the scenic view, salty ocean smell and strong wind grasped hold of my senses. I felt unstoppable in my rubber boots as I climbed over rocks, hopped through patches of green, brown and red algae, and waded through patches of Sea Grass in order to see a full range of the specimen this beach had to offer. The fact alone that I came out of this venture unharmed and still dry was a success in itself. The success of my findings exploration can be seen in the images featured below, yet they only scratch the surface of the complex and extraordinary species that call 'Tongue Point' home.

Giant Acorn Barnacle (balanus nubilus)

Bloodstar (henricia) and Sea Laurel (osmundea spectabilis)

Pacific Blue Mussel (mytilus trossulus)

Pacific Blue Mussel bed (mytilus trossulus)

 

 

Pacific Blue Mussel bed (mytilus trossulus)

Black Katy Chiton (katharina tunicata)

Dead Man's Finger (codium fragile)

Vermillion Star (mediaster aequalis)

*dead* Octopus (octopus vulgaris)

Return Home
(En route!)

We had a nice, relaxed drive home in the sunshine, and I slept almost all the way to the ferry terminal. We had a nice pit-stop at the (former) Elwha Dam, to witness the largest dam removal project in history. I learned that this was a slow process in order to fully restore the river to its natural state, as sediments have been accumulating for years and need to be carefully released so as to not throw off the balance of nutrients in the water for existing wildlife.

The former Elwha Damn

With one more nap, a stop for gas and a last-minute switch of ferry terminals, we arrived back to Seattle by the Seattle-Bainbridge ferry boat and were welcomed by the ever-beautiful Seattle skyline. As my first true expedition of natural history came to an end, I felt much like Lewis and Clark as I arrived back in my hometown. With a notebook chock-full of exciting knowledge, a heart full of new friends, and an eager mind, I couldn't wait to keep exploring and engulfing myself in the serenity and harmony of nature once more.

My 'welcome back' to Seattle!