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.

If you haven’t heard the news, fire season has hit Oregon hard this month, especially with the so-called “megafires”. And just our luck, Emma and I are stationed in a county surrounded on all sides by these megafires (multiple over 100,000 acres and spreading), with our town, John Day, right smack dab in the center.

For the most part, this means that we’re pretty safe in town, but the threat to the forest is great, and some nearby towns aren’t faring nearly as well. As such, we’ve had to keep a close eye on local conditions, avoiding certain areas of the forest, driving above the smoke line, and finding work to do indoors (there’s plenty).

My nightly social media doomscrolling has been replaced by excessively checking WatchDuty (10/10, highly recommend this wildfire app, by the way) for the latest hotspots, evacuation zones, AQI, and firefighting updates. Watching the 20,000 acre Courtrock Fire boundary slowly overtake the entirety of our vast (and only) Iris missouriensis population was heartbreaking.

Early on in the month, on a particularly smoky day, Emma and I set off to scout Dixie Butte. Of course, we had some target species in mind, and we did map a few populations, but I’d be lying if I said we didn’t have an ulterior motive: escape the wildfire smoke. At the top of the Butte, after a long, winding drive, we were met with a lovely subalpine meadow and perfectly clear air. We ate lunch, enjoyed the view/easy breathing, and grabbed some data points before heading off back down the mountain.

Unfortunately, we’ve also had to spend a lot of our days indoors. There’s a ton of work to do, organizing our data, keying out vouchers, weighing out samples, etc., and the days definitely drag on a bit more than when we’re out in the field.

A lot of the indoor work has come down to organization, and it took a while to really nail down our rhythm, especially since we have 3 seasonal Forest Service employees and occasionally 2 SCA interns helping us collect on a regular basis – maybe a few too many cooks in the kitchen, at times.

Right now, these are the steps we’ve been (mostly) following:

1. Freshly collected seeds are labelled and weighed to get wet-mass
2. Seeds are fumigated for 48 hours in sealed plastic bags with insecticide pest-strips
3. Seeds are set out to dry, usually in the same paper bag for convenience sake, but sometimes in makeshift boxes, which are easier to stack and allow more airflow
4. Cut tests are performed, as soon as time allows
5. After a couple weeks of drying, seeds are re-weighed to get dry-mass, and the number of seeds per gram is counted

In between these steps, we’re also keying out vouchers, organizing data, double-checking labels, tinkering with our map, planning field days, and fluffing the drying seed. It’s a lot of little tasks adding up to huge piles of work. Honestly, its probably a good thing that the smoke has forced us inside to deal with it all.

In other news, if you read my previous post on Delphinium sp., my mystery Delphinium turned out to be D. Depauperatum, as the little black seeds showed obvious, pale wings…

… Unfortunately, I managed to promptly dump them out onto the floor, where they couldn’t be recovered without risk of invasive contamination. We picked them up with tape, threw all of that into a new bag, and back onto the shelf it went …

… we’ll deal with it later...

The first time I met with my mentor and the ranger at my office was over zoom and I asked if there were many opportunities to camp. They mentioned that around the 4th of July a rare orchid blooms in the eastern district of the Dakota Prairie Grasslands. Before I left for training people were curious about my job and not having a super specific answer for what I was doing I’d answer with native seed collection and mention the surveying of this mysterious rare orchid.

The orchids bloomed a little late this year, so we went to survey them 2 weeks after the 4th of July. The week before our excursion I spent my free time researching and reading up on them so I would be prepared. The western fringed orchid (Platanthera praeclara) grows in the Sheyenne district (which is much wetter than our district) and is declining due to multiple threats. The documents I read discussed the conservation efforts and goals from the project. It took a bit before finding one of the orchids, but once we found the first one it was very easy to notice them. The areas that were most abundant with the western fringed orchids were the sides of the roads. It was really neat and special to see such a beautiful flower for the first (and possibly only) time.

On the same trip we brought along our gear and completed a few bumblebee surveys. We got to teach the public affairs specialist, who came to see the orchid as well, how we conduct our bumble bee surveys and he ended up writing an article about it!

July was a great month full of amazing experiences and I am excited to see what August brings!

Wildfires are part of life out west. As a midwesterner this has definitely been a culture shock. The smoke that hangs in the valleys brings this ominous feeling I can’t quite shake. Meanwhile the locals do not seem fazed. As time passes I too have gotten more comfortable living surrounded by fires. Maybe it’s the constant reassurance from my crew lead or the other USFS employees sharing their experiences from years past, but slowly it’s becoming more normal. 

In all honesty, the biggest adjustment has been working while large portions of the forest are closed. Many of our historic seed collection spots are out of reach or even burned. Initially it felt like the rug was ripped from under my feet. Time to start over. Going back out and looking for our target species, but this time without any historic data to rely on. 

Long days of driving down new roads were upon me and my co-intern. Some days were busts. We seemed to find more invasives than natives. Not the best feeling, to be honest. Soon our luck would change. We would come upon patches of meadows, they key to our success. Quickly we found forest scurf pea, western columbine, and blue wild rye. It felt like such a victory! 

As time has passed waivers to enter the closure have been approved. Finally we can hit some of those historic sites! The sheer difference in population size was astounding. I could see why the forest relies on these sites so much. Now as July comes to a close, paper bags of seeds cover the floor and the fridge is full of berries. Despite it all the work is really starting up. Hoping as summer moves along more of the forest opens up, and more seed can be safely collected. 

Emma Landenberger 

Umpqua National Forest, Oregon