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.

I think it’s finally beginning to sink in that I work in a national forest. I’ve had a lot of jobs in my lifetime. Many of them were less than noteworthy- like the fast food places I worked at in high school. Others, I really enjoyed, like the ones related to my degree that I had in college. Perhaps the best of those, was the job I had working at the Crop Physiology Laboratory for my university. I have always enjoyed being in the lab, and in the greenhouses. But nothing compares to the national forest. It’s my favorite office I’ve had so far. Sure, sometimes it can be quite a walk to the nearest coffee machine, and the bathrooms aren’t always stocked with all of the amenities that one typically requires, but the views are spectacular- better than all of the high rise offices in New York City, no doubt.

Things are going really well here around the office. We’ve been able to get quite a bit done the last couple of weeks. At this point, I find myself wishing that the seeds would ripen faster. We are adding to our queue of harvestable populations faster than we can harvest them. Most of this is attributed to the fact that many of our species will not set seed until late summer. So we wait, and scout for more populations, and wait more. Certainly, we will be very busy with seed collecting once early fall rolls around.

Luckily, there are a few species that we have been able to harvest from this early in the season. There is nothing more satisfying than harvesting seed from a population that you have been monitoring. It’s so rewarding seeing the process from beginning to end: scouting the population, counting it, mapping it, photographing it, doing return visits on it, and then finally, when the time is right, harvesting it.

Last week, we collected again from a Lomatium dissectum species that we found our first day out in the field. We had monitored it for weeks. While we were happy that we were able to get seed, we were a little disappointed that we hadn’t found more harvestable populations of this species before they set seed. This particular plant matures and sets seed quite rapidly and early in the season. Luckily, before we were able to get too down in the dumps about it, we discovered the magic of higher elevation.

We knew of course that plants at higher elevations experience cold temperatures later into the year, and thus take longer to germinate, sprout and set seed than plants at lower elevations. But we hadn’t considered this in the context of seed collection. Not until we came across a huge, and still very much blooming population of Lomatium dissectum in one of the highest elevation areas on our forest. It felt like a second chance! This particular population appears to be months behind the population that we harvested last week. We will get to harvest more Lomatium dissectum after all!

Life is good. The forest is beautiful. Seeds are coming!

The field season has just begun and there is so much to be done. We have had the opportunity to participate in a few field surveys with the botanist crew on our forest, during which time we have been scouting for potential seed collection populations. Last week in particular, we scouted along the way to a botanist survey that needed to be completed alongside the dam of a small mountain lake. That’s how I learned that the word “road” is used very loosely by forest service folk. Personally, I think the term “rocky hill of death” might be more applicable for this particular instance, but hey, what do I know? I’m just an intern.

The following week, after we gave our internal organs time to settle back into their rightful places, we pursued some coordinates for potential seed collection populations. These we obtained from looking at local herbarium records. We were able to track down a population of Penstemon eatonii. This was particularly exciting because at least 100 times before we had enthusiastically announced that we spotted populations of Penstemon eatonii from the car, only to find upon exiting the car that they were actually Scarlet Star Gilia. Unfortunately, the Penstemon eatonii population was too small for seed collection, but it was a productive trip, nonetheless.

Upon similar scouting ventures, we were lucky to find many harvestable populations for seed collection. To date, we have harvestable populations for the following species: Lomatium grayi, Lomatium dissectum, Lomatium triternatum, Balsamorhiza sagittate. Artemisia tridentata, Purshia tridentata, Eriogonum umbellatum, and Eriogonum heracleoides. Now that we have scouted the populations, it’s simply a matter of checking up on them periodically so as not to miss the ideal collection period.

Last week, we completed our first seed harvest which was of Lomatium grayi. The collection went well, although it was taxing work because it was so hot that day. The population itself was somewhat small so it only took us a few hours to collect 20% of the available seed. It’s so exciting to have finally harvested. I hope that those little seeds go on to produce many more native seeds to aid in restoration projects across the forest. Currently, the seeds are laid out to dry in our office, gracing us with a fragrant celery-like smell. Thank you Apiaceae.

Perhaps one of my favorite experiences of the internship thus far, came in the form of an element occurrence survey. We were asked to check up on a population of Brownie Lady’s Slippers (Cypripedium fasciculatum) that was put in our GIS system several years ago. The species is on our sensitive species list for the forest. The trip to get there was long and often felt treacherous. Again, I learned that the word “road” is relative around here. Once at the top of the mountain it was only a short hike to the survey location. It was clear that the fuels crew had been working in this area in months past, so we had concerns about being able to find the Lady’s Slippers. However, we were happy to see that the small population is still thriving and that it has migrated up the slope a little. As a budding botanist, finding rare plants feels akin to finding rare gems, and always warrants a photo opt.

Our Lomatium dissectum population should be ready to harvest either this week or next. Until then, we will continue scouting for more populations and monitoring the ones that we already have.