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

Rain, You Say?

Big drops of rain spit off my hat as soon as I stepped out of the car. Opening the back door to retrieve my binoculars left a dark gray line of wet on the rear seat.  And, garbage bag in hand, we were off!

Soggy as it was, I have to admit it was kid-like fun splashing along the trails that are more like flowing streams, particularly in the southwest corner of the Patch. There, the water is flowing so quickly it doesn't have time to pick up any dirt, and the water runs clear as it slips toward the creek. In other places, sticky mud sucks at your every step.

It seems every new place I look now, with the vegetation in slumber and beat down by the rain, there is a new scattering of garbage.  I completely filled the bag today and had to stop. Then we found the bike, or what's left of it.....

On the positive side, the osoberry leaves are showing green:

Not one of my better pictures, but it was raining and I didn't want to soak my phone!

Nine species of birds braved the downpour, including a new one at the Patch for us, a Hutton's vireo!

Night No-Owl

The New York Public Library Digital Collections. 1840 - 1844 

Last year about this time, I joined a night walk searching for owls on the Tualatin National Wildlife Refuge. Of all the time I have spent outdoors, I have rarely been out and about after dark. Usually I'm too wimpy cold, or I'm tuckered from all the day's activities.

The timing of the TRNWR walk was to coincide with the January and February nesting times for great horned owls.  Sure enough, about a mile into our walk, with darkness around us and city lights glowing on the clouds above, we heard a pair softly hooting to each other.

This year, we decided to visit the Patch at dusk and remain until after dark.  Several trees along the creek or in the oak grove seemed like possible habitat for great horned owls. We arrived while it was light enough to pick up a few items of trash and splash on paths that were really wet.  As darkness crept in, we listened around the perimeter of the grass field, then with headlamps and flashlights went into the trees.  

I have noticed before that there is a lot of background noise at the Patch, but it seemed to reach new volumes as we strained to hear a quiet hoo-hoo-hoo hoooo-hoo.  Sadly, there was so much noise from the freeway (about 1/2 mile away) that, unless we were very near, I'm not sure we would have been able to hear any owls.

We may try again, but unless we have some event to decrease the freeway traffic (snowstorm?), this may be an exercise in futility.

Last Day 2015: More sun, wind, garbage; less water, vegetation

After all the rain (and a little snow) we've had in December, a sunny day is a welcome change.

The last few visits to the Patch have made me realize just how much vegetation cover and fill we lose in the winter.

Open canopy

See-through woods

An effect of that loss is the appearance of a fair amount of trash that was previously obscured by green growing things.  We stuffed two plastic grocery bags with our finds today.

On a more uplifting note, we found the first positive sign that deer use the Patch.

Deer tracks in the mud

Some of the trails were crunchy with ice, but others were just mucky.  I can think of two possibilities: (1) the amount of sun in different locations; or (2) a slight flow in the water vs puddling. A nice benefit of the muddy places is signs of other citizens of the Patch:

Raccoon?

We also found one of my favorite winter fungi:

Orange Jelly fungus

I love the bright color against the browns and greens of a wet winter woods.

Think Like A Duck

To say we've had some rain really doesn't describe the last week.  Over 6 inches of rain in five days - more than three of those inches in one day.  Along with all the rain, we've also had some mighty big wind gusts.

At the Patch today, much of the trail was a little canal of water with swampy ground on either side. Glad I was wearing waterproof shoes.  

Near the creek, things must have gotten really exciting.  Water from a branch of the creek had overwhelmed a culvert and run right over the top of the trail, neatly combing all the grass in the direction of the water flow.  On the main creek, several alders in the flooded area fell and the underbrush was flattened.

In the flood plain

Amazingly, only one tree fell across the trail:

We also lost a snag that collapsed across the creek:

It was interesting to see how the area responded to all that water.  In a way, I wish we would have been out there at the height of the flood. Somewhere safe.

Also interesting was the flock of about 30 mourning doves spread through what was left of the underbrush until we scared them up into the trees.  I haven't seen that many mourning doves in this area for a long time.

Oregon's Oak A Vanishing Legacy HD

The oaks on the Patch are much closer together than those shown in this video.  Makes me think that thinning might be in the future.



One of the botanists in this video, Ed Alverson, was an instructor in my Master Naturalist program.

Amazing Trees and Ice

We've had a little wind lately and the oaks are pretty much bare, as are most of the other trees; surprisingly, the willows seemed to have the most persistent leaves.  The tree that I have been photographing on each visit recently is totally bare as is the other tree growing next to it.

With the leaves on the ground everywhere, the woods are much more open and it is easier to see how close we are to civilization on the Patch.  Houses hidden by vegetation before are now visible.

We noticed this tree stump today.  There is something unusual about it.  

Bark has continued to grow and has sealed off the cut.  Well, this tree has no needles (leaves) to supply energy, so how did this happen?  I think this is evidence that this (former) tree and another nearby are sharing a root system, perhaps through a mychorrhizal connection.  This stump is drawing energy from the needles of the other tree and has treated the severing of itself as a bark wound, which it has now healed.

Another interesting observation today was the presence of frost and ice.

It was 47 degrees while we were on the Patch today, yet water in several shady spots was still frozen from the 29 degree night we had 36 hours ago.  Our relative humidity is also quite low right now. I could find nothing (easily) on the maximum temperature in which ice will persist, but now I know it is at least 47 degrees.

Leaves Everywhere

As the human activity in the Patch slows, nature moves toward winter sleep.  The oaks are becoming more bare, but the leaf color provides a glow in the forest canopy.

Mushrooms continue to sprout, from the tiny and delicate:

to the massive:

foot for scale

The particular tree that I have been watching is now completely bare of leaves, but the oak next to it is holding on:

picture from a different angle so the evergreen is not directly behind my tree

The creek at the western edge of the Patch shows actual current flow (as opposed to looking like a pond like before) and, at the northwest edge, the path leading to the Tigard library is completely under water.

Our garbage haul for the day filled less than a plastic grocery store bag except for the family-picnic-sized foam cooler, complete with lid, that we picked up at the north end of the property.  We don't always walk to the north end, but I swear, the last time we did, this cooler was about 20 yards farther north onto another piece of property that is semi-fenced from the Patch.  If the lid was not with the cooler, I might have thought about wind or an animal moving them, but maybe the other property owner just decided to toss them over the fence.  I mean, who's gonna know or care, right?

Fall

It was a quick trip to the Patch yesterday because we walked the trails and there was no garbage! The weather has turned to more typical Pacific Northwest autumn, meaning rain and wind.  Temperatures remain amazingly warm as the air and moisture zip from the tropics on the "Pineapple Express."

The deciduous trees are shedding and soon will all be bare. I should have picked a "fall tree" that was not right in front of a conifer!

The only incident of note is that we found a dead rabbit.  It was right next to the trail and looked like it had been there for only hours; no obvious signs of injury.  We have never seen a rabbit on the Patch before, so seeing a dead one was a bit of a surprise. We will have to be more alert for rabbit sign.

As I thought about it, the death and position of the little body seemed odd: if another animal killed it, why was there no sign of injury?  Not that we examined it closely, but we did roll it into the brush, so we could tell that there was no blood or bite marks on it.  And why did it die right next to the trail, out in the open?   Our rabbits "favor brushy habitats and rarely venture far from cover."¹ This guy (or gal, we didn't check) was a good ten feet from any brush or hiding place......

I also regret to say that we have never found any of the Neuroterus saltatorious galls.

Addendum: upon further study, it seems that our rabbit was likely a non-native eastern cottontail (Sylvilagus floridanus). "...the eastern cottontail is less persnickety about its habitat and more likely to be seen out in the open."²

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1 Wildlife of the Pacific Northwest p 111, by David Moskowitz^↩

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2 Passionate Slugs & Hollywood Frogs p 22, by Patricia K. Lichen^↩

Mushrooms and Leaves

An occasional breeze shook blizzards of leaves and needles from the trees today as we walked the Patch.  The transition from green continues.

We had a little rain over the weekend, bringing out an amazing variety of mushrooms.

Grass sprouts and flowers have woken from their hot naps.

Prunella vulgaris

These were just bitsy little green spots on September 9.  Someday, maybe I will figure out what plant this is...

I think we picked up the smallest amount of trash ever, in spite of the more than three weeks since our last visit.

It was a glorious autumn day.

Another Day, Another Feather

I'm starting to think I should have titled this blog "Feathers" because nearly every time we've been to the Patch, I have found a feather. Could it be that hunting for trash on the ground has a good side?

Anyway, this is the tail feather of a Stellar's jay.  We saw two lurking around.  Seeing these two made me pause later when I thought I heard a red tail hawk, because Stellar's jays do a decent red tail imitation.  This time, however, after searching around, we saw a red tail flying high overhead.

We picked up the clothes left behind from the camp and all the other trash we could see.  Not really too much today.

Fall is beginning to tinge the trees:

The spiders are webbing in:

And there's even a new flower that popped out of the ground:

This appears to be a cyclamen, and although I don't think it is native, it was a bright spot in an area much trampled by former campers.