The Rain Magnet

Once again, rain showers parked over the Patch shortly after our arrival.

All the vegetation was heavy with moisture, bowing and dripping over the trails. Especially moist was the tall grass in the meadow, soaking our pants which in turn ran in little rivulets into our socks.

Because of the shower (that seemed more like a downpour), we didn't check on the camper, but with a little soap, his bathing needs were satisfied.

Besides the problem with campers, someone decided to use the Patch as their personal yard debris recycling station.  This is a non-native something, but I guess it will eventually

become soil. I hope I live that long.

Beaver Power!

Growing beaver pond

The beavers have added to their construction, backing up the pond sufficiently that a new stream of water is leaking over the path.  Fortunately, it was hot today and we (my sister and I) were wearing sandals so that we could splash through to see the dam.

We also found the camper still hanging out under a large oak tree. . . .

My sister, visiting from out of state, is the first "outsider" I have taken to the Patch. What a gal, going with her sister to pick up trash and visit illegal campers. I really know how to show 'em a good time.

More Good Than Bad

The trails are mostly dry now and we walked farther than we normally do, discovering yet another camper (or the same one who is just moving around).

But there was lots to see that was better news; first, how nature heals.  This was the site of the very first camper we found last year.  A tent was in this precise spot:

And along with the new camper, we found that someone else has taken up residence in The Patch:

Beaver Dam

Some lupine has begun to bloom, struggling through the blackberry branches that are attempting to climb over it (must take scissors next time).

Critters seen today include 13 bird species and a chipmunk, which I don't think we have ever seen there before. I also found this buggie, which, with my "expertise" in insects might be anything, but I think it is in the Lampyridae family.

My Pacific Northwest book would indicate Ellychnia hatchi, but it also says "....there are a number of species in this genus, and one needs to use the identification key in Fender (1970) to identify them...."  Well, I have never heard of that key, let alone have it, so we are just going to have to go with "close."

April Showers

The downpour started suddenly.  We'd had a few light showers during the day, but this was different (particularly since we were outside).   The rain fell so fast and hard it looked like fog in the forest and plants leaves danced, being pounded and smacked by the monstrous raindrops.

We had a few moments of calm before the storm.  We heard our first black-headed grosbeak of the year and we found a new-to-me flower, Lonicera ciliosa, orange honeysuckle.

Unfortunately, we also discovered the identity of the plant that has sprung to life in vast quantities, the non-native Geranium lucidum. Given its prolific growth, I just knew it had to be something we didn't want!

The downed oak tree is still lively, with leaves sprouting all over what is now the top of tree. Amazing to see how it is adapting to its new condition.

Then the rain started. Only minutes after diving into the car, we were treated to a flash of lightning, a rumble of thunder, and the rain turned to a ratatat of hail.

First Spring!

We've been out of town for awhile and so have not been to The Patch for over a month.  While we were away, spring sprung!

Nearly everything is so bright green and lush.  The oaks (including the one laying on the ground) are just starting to leaf out, but otherwise, the frenzy of growing in our absence has transformed the Patch to a different place. Fringecup is blooming everywhere and there's even some camas in what were the really wet spots of last winter.

We stopped to check out the "owl tree" and the number of pellets has multiplied, but the owl(s) is/are still hiding.  Seventeen bird species today, including a brown creeper splashing in a puddle, a red-breasted sapsucker and an orange crown warbler, our first spring warbler.

Convenience and Proximity

Every time we patrol the Patch, we walk by a little "cove" of the creek's flood plain, down a slope about 12 feet, that I've wanted to clean out.  Particularly since autumn took away the vegetative cover, the debris strewn across the ground has bugged me. The flooding we had this year has only made the garbage count grow. So, this trip, I wore my rubber boots and took a big garbage bag with us on our walk.

Getting down the slope was easier than I thought from just looking over the edge, making me wonder if animals use the same access I did.  Once down on the lower level, I was astounded at the amount of stuff down there, much more than was observable from the upper level.  Everywhere I looked, I could see more trash.

We have learned from our previous garbage expeditions that about 90 percent of the trash we pick up is beverage containers, and of the identifiable labels, about 90 percent of the containers used to have alcohol in them. This was no different. Cans, bottles, cups, lids (and a few food trays) made up the vast bulk of the trash. I stuffed the garbage bag as full as I thought I could lug back up the slope.  I could see that this was going to require another trip.

Our haul

Walking back to the entrance, I thought about the trade off between the convenience of a "disposable" container and the fact that people dispose of them in the worst possible places. This is Oregon, where we have a "bottle bill" that requires a deposit on beverage containers.  Has its effectiveness worn off?  Is the convenience of tossing overpowering the minimal amount of the deposit? Is there any way to slow the tossing?

Wanting to end on a happier note, I will credit the trash with my closer examination of a tree where I now feel confident owls are nesting.  I had a feeling that the habitat was right and Scott Carpenter's great presentation gave me the clues to look for.  On our last visit I found what I thought was "owl wash" while surveying the cove. My suspicions are now confirmed by the owl pellets at the base of the tree.

It's Not Over

Portland Protest Against the Occupation of the Refuge

The Malheur National Wildlife Refuge has been cleared of the occupiers/protesters.  Thousands of pages have been written about what they were trying to accomplish, what their motives were and what they did.  Much more will likely be written.  I wondered whether I really had any need to add my drops to the sea of words.

Then I thought: Nobody has written about my experience. I doubt I have an audience with this blog, but it became important to me to articulate why this situation resounded so deeply with me.

First, I have spent time at the refuge, which is unusual, even among my fellow Oregonians because of its remoteness.  My first visit was at the very beginning of my days as a "birder", some 17 years ago.  I barely knew what a wildlife refuge was, but I had heard about this amazing place.  Traveling to Utah to see friends and family, I forsook the freeway to travel two lane highways across a part of Oregon I had never seen. My stop at the refuge was brief and memory of it is confused with other visits, but I remember wanting to go back.

Fast forward a few years.  I was now married to my "birding instructor." We hauled our little trailer to a patch of ground with an electrical and water hookup near the Malheur Field Station.  We didn't spend much time at the trailer because there was so much to see:  my first yellow-headed blackbird, my first white-faced ibis, my first Forster's Tern.

Subsequent visits followed the same pattern: park the trailer and roam the refuge, sometimes meeting other birders, sometimes not seeing another person all day. Return to sleep, get up early, repeat.

Second, I love public lands.  I cannot imagine my life without the opportunity to be outside, exploring the natural world.  Nature is my drug, my therapist.  Without public lands, how could I spend time in the forest, in the desert, in the mountains and places in between?  How to enjoy the variety of the coast, to see geysers and touch glacier-carved granite?  To listen to the variety of birds that sing in the spring or to stand in absolute silence?

I understand that others don't hold the same values that I do.  And many that do are among the quietest and most low-key people around. (One of my observations while attending the Portland protest was that it was difficult to get the crowd riled up!)  Thank you to government representatives and the residents of Harney and other rural counties who come to the table to work out their differences.  I hope that can continue to be a model for the difficult issues ahead.

Finally, some of the occupiers hijacked my religion.  I am a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, (often called Mormons).  Listening to occupiers use phrases that are familiar to me to justify their actions was offensive.  The Church I know preaches compliance with the law, the support of government and the avoidance of contention.  None of those were evident in what I saw going on.  Can government be a problem?  Can laws be unfair?  Of course, but we have legal means of redress and sometimes even a duty to seek that redress.  Once legal means are exhausted, however, we must buck up and comply.  The chaos and anarchy resulting from folks deciding to take the law into their own hands are worse.

So yes, this affected me very personally.  I'm glad to know that these folks are gone.  And what I loved to see and what I hope will continue is a backlash by those of us who care about and support our public lands.

My fellow protesters