The past month has been filled with a mixture of hot daily temperatures of over 100, contrasted by frequent torrential downpours. Such is life in Arizona. But, as they say, with the rains, life follows. It’s strange to see such bright colors contrasted with the dead grass and the occasional plot of cow bones. It’s kinda strange to see so many of them in the middle of a juniper forest sometimes. (The Wild West is still alive!) I found my second coyote skull this month in a ditch while searching for some Parkinsonia seeds, and whoop there it was, bleached and slightly dusted, with no other bones around it. Strange, really, how I just decided to go in the direction of the skull like it was asking me to find it. I like to think that magical moments like this are more frequent than we give credit for. I really like the natural metaphors and poetry that the desert provides, and I’m particularly inspired by the level of resilience and life that exists contrasted with such obvious symbols of death, like the cow bones. I believe that death and endings are underappreciated and over stigmatized. After all, it provides the opportunity for something new to exist when it may not have before. Sure, the rain provides life, but we only ever think of the death following it under the scorching sun. It’s just as natural as everything else. I’m still reflecting on our recent trip to Diamond Point near Payson, where we found crystal-clear quartz points when scavenging for some woodland target species. It was interesting to see scorch marks that looks like they may have been from lightning, contrasted by the sparkle of the crystals in the gravel and sticking up from the pine litter.

July’s sizzling temperatures have helped me realize that I am, indeed, a little lizard. How else am I to explain how much I loved being out and about full-sun mid July in Utah?

The beautiful landscape and weather make this easily one of the best offices I’ve had the pleasure of working in.

There’s a particular trail we can’t seem to stop revisiting due to the amount of target species we are finding. Art Nord’s Wheeler Creek trail has truly been a gold mine of harvestable populations! The list currently consists of Chaenactic douglasii, Eriogonum heracleoides, Eriogonum umbellatum, Lomatium dissectum, and Purshia tridentata.

We’ve completed a few collections, unfortunately, we now know what it’s like to miss a population. When we first started, Balsamorhiza sagittata (BASA) seemed to be everywhere. As we began scouting for new ecoregions and populations we took BASA’s abundance for granted…missing a population has been extremely frustrating but, I try to stay positive in that we’ll collect from another population and that the particular population we missed will likely flourish next season.

In other news, this past month also provided me the luxury of camping for a week in the Heber-Kamas east zone with the Botany department and Student Conservation Association (SCA) Interns where I had the opportunity to act as a botany tech lead! We worked on multiple surveys for two proposed timber sales (Silver Meadows Timber Sale and Flytree Timber Sale) as well as two large sections of a fuels reduction project. Throughout the 698 acres we kept our eyes peeled for Threatened, Endangered, and Sensitive (TES) species: Botrychium crenulatum, Botrychium lineare, Corydalis caseana ssp brachycarpa, Cyprepedium fasciculatum, and Cypripedium parviflorum. Fortunately for me, I’d seen a few in previous surveys so I knew what to look for and could help provide tips and guidance for others. We didn’t find anything in the proposed polygons however, a decent population of the tiny Botrychiums were spotted in a meadow not too far from camp. The little guys were no longer than my pinky!

One of many cool aspects of this internship is the amount of collaboration we get to take part in. A team from the Great Basin Institute had been in contact with our FS mentor and so we coordinated with them to complete a Lomatium dissectum (LODI) and BASA population collection. They follow the seeds of success protocol which was extremely useful to see in action! Thank you to Brian for being an amazing lead and mentor!

Another blog post means another month has come and gone. I’m enjoying this seasonal internship too much, if that’s possible, and just wish it could be a permanent position 🙂

Having just written our mid-season report, I find myself reflecting upon how the season has gone so far, and day-dreaming about what still lies ahead of us. I can hardly believe that summer is almost over. This summer has flown by for me- a testament to how wonderful this job has been. One of my favorite things about this position has to be seeing how the forest changes with each new season. I feel like a quiet observer, a fly on the wall, watching as the forest delicately lays down her colored coat each week, only to put on a new one.

Viewing these changes through my eyes, as a budding botanist, has been especially spectacular for me. In spring, the first yellow blooms of arrowleaf balsamroot break through the thawed ground, while lupines, a personal favorite of mine, add a touch of lavender among the new greenery. As the days warm, and summer progresses, wild geraniums and scarlet gilia bring subtle pinks and reds, their flowers attracting pollinators that flit between them.

Now that it is late summer, mountain mahogany seeds have begun to show, their fine, feathered strands catching the light before drifting off with the wind. Penstemon, with its deep blue and purple flowers, stands tall in open spaces. The seedheads of annual grasses, long since passed, turn gold in the sun.

I find myself waiting on the edge of my seat to see what the forest does as fall approaches. I can only guess that the colors of her coat will turn deeper, and richer as the aspens turn gold, and the reds of bigtooth maples and burr oaks spill across the hills. I am sure that fireweed, one of the last to bloom, will add a final burst of magenta before the first snowflakes settle and the forest shifts into the quiet of winter

Winter. Of all the seasons, it’s the most difficult for me to picture. Not because it isn’t beautiful, it might be the most breathtaking season of all. But because I know that once the forest puts on her white coat, contrasted only by the dark green of the conifers, that I will hardly be there to see it. Of course I know that after my time as a CLM intern is over I will still be able to go into the forest. But it won’t be like it is now, I can’t go everyday. Surely, I won’t be around to notice the subtle changes as early winter progresses into late winter, and as late winter thaws into spring. The forest will be quieter then, and very few will be around to see her.

Until then, I plan to enjoy my time with the forest, however fleeting it may be. She continues to change everyday, and with each change brings new plants to be discovered, and new seeds to be harvested.

This month has been filled to the brim with new plants and new places. Since the last blog post Sky and I have kinda settled into the position and have been getting into a groove. Most days we end up going to the Helena side of the forest so we can get plants in a large area which means we’ve been doing A LOT of driving, but hey I get to listen to my music more, so that’s a plus!

Our month started with us going to the Rocky Mountain Front to meet up with the head botanist in the Helena office to help look for a rare orchid that should be in the area. However, in order to get to the right spot we had to go off-trail and really get into the thicker parts of the forest. It was some of the most fun I had on the job! It felt like I was really exploring the forest that I’m stationed in and it made every plant that we found even more exciting than usual. In the end we were able to find the orchid we were looking for along with some other ones!

The week after our trip with Nate we spent some time helping out the trails crew and sprayed some weeds around some campgrounds. Wasn’t my favorite work to do (especially since we ended up spraying a lot of Ox-eyed Daisies, which I didn’t know were invasive until then), but we had a cookout for lunch so it wasn’t all too bad!

The rest of the month was spent doing our usual survey work and seed collections. It’s been interesting seeing how our populations change throughout the season and then seeing how these plants spread their seeds. This job has made me so much more conscious of the different stages of a plants life and how differences in climate can affect the timing of when it’s seeds are released. The higher temperatures in Helena along with the forest fires in the area has made it so many of the plants in that part of the forest are much farther along than the ones that we see closer to the ranger station. This has sometimes been a source of some frustrations since it narrows down the already short window for collecting from some species, but it has also allowed us to collect from some species sooner than we would be able to if we just stayed close to the ranger station.

Overall it has been another good month of my time in Montana, and I’m excited to see what this next month brings!

I’ve been working in the Umpqua National Forest for a month and a half now, and in that time, I’ve witnessed incredible changes in the landscape around me. I’ve made memories that I’ll cherish for a long time, and I’ve captured countless photos. Beyond the breathtaking scenery I’m fortunate to work in every day, the most fascinating transformation I’ve observed has been the plants’ progression from fruit development to seed dispersal. This shift in the natural world has also marked a change in my work, as I’ve transitioned from managing invasive species to the exciting task of seed collection. So far, we’ve gathered seeds from 14 different native species (to list a few: Oregon sunshine, yarrow, blue wild rye, red columbine, deer vetch, serviceberries, etc.)

In this short time, I’ve learned so much. Being part of a larger botany team—nine strong—composed of like-minded, hardworking individuals has been an incredible experience. Our shared enthusiasm turns each day’s work into a collective endeavor that feels both purposeful and rewarding. We’ve supported each other through challenging tasks, celebrated our successes, and learned from the forest and from each other.

However, the recent wildfires here in the Umpqua National Forest have posed a significant challenge. These fires have lead to forest closures that overlap with many populations of interest, which has forced us to adapt and develop new strategies. These have included scouting for new populations to collect from that are large enough and with viable seed, with no previous historic data. Another hardship has been waiting for waivers to come in to permit us to enter parts of the forest closed due to fire activity, which has delayed both scouting and collection efforts.

The work we do in managing invasive species and collecting seeds becomes even more crucial in this context, as these efforts help to ensure that the forest can recover and continue to thrive after a fire. In the end, my experience here has deepened my appreciation for the delicate balance of nature and the critical role we play in preserving it.