As June comes to a close, I can’t believe how quickly the past few weeks have come and gone. Time flies when you are having fun…. and by fun, I of course mean keying out plants! My introduction to the Lolo National Forest has been one full of excitement and education. Moving to Missoula from the East Coast has definitely been a big adjustment, especially in terms of learning about all the plants in this region. Luckily, my mentor has been very helpful (and patient!) as he points out each plant and makes sure I can correctly identify the species we come across in the field. As I follow along on rare plant surveys and other important projects that the Lolo National Forest Botany Team takes on, I’m amazed at the beautiful landscape where I get to work every day. Sometimes I have to remember to pick my head up take a look around, even though the plants on the ground are the most exciting part. I’ve been lucky enough to map some Pinus albicaulis which are considered a sensitive species and got to document a rare plant population with my mentor, a group of little Botrychium crenulatum, how cute!
Botrychium crenulatum from a Rare Plant Survey
Another exciting learning experience I had was tagging along with the invasive/weeds team to spray for weeds at a nursery in Plains, MT. Pictured below is my coworker giving a big thumbs up after killing all the Cirsium arvense and choke weed we could find.
This last week of June I had the opportunity to attend the R1 Botany Grass Identification training in Bozeman, MT and got to meet up with some fellow Chicago Botanic Garden Interns. It was great to catch up, learn about Montana grasses and discuss the work we had each been doing in our respective forests. Overall, I am having a great experience and cannot wait for the seed collecting to begin.
I have always shied away from the sedge family (Cyperaceae), spotting them on almost every walk through woodlands, prairies, wetlands, or neighborhoods. It would usually just be a passing comment to my partner: “Look, another sedge, and another, and another,” without giving them the attention they deserve. Cyperaceae is one of the most successful and species-rich flowering plant families in the world, explaining their presence in nearly every type of habitat. If you are a fan of water chestnuts, you ought to know that you are actually eating a corm of a sedge (Eleocharis dulcis) – pretty neat! Carex, the largest genus in this family, serves as an important ecological component of wetlands and wet prairies, making them crucial for restoration purposes. As a result, they comprise over 50% of our target species list. This group is notoriously difficult to identify, but with some time, head-scratching, and magnification, it’s not all that bad. I extend a special thanks to the botanists at Midewin (Michelle, Jen, Eric, Grant, and Anna) who have willingly shared their knowledge and provided helpful resources to enhance my understanding of this group. Taking a closer look at this diverse and often overlooked family has opened my eyes to its significance and beauty in the landscape.
The eastern prairie white-fringed orchid (Platanthera leucophaea) was once abundant throughout its range. However, the conversion of its habitat, from wet to mesic prairies, into crop land or pasture, has led to a significant decline in this species, as well as in many others. During our monitoring efforts, we had the opportunity to hand-pollinate the flowers, aiming to improve the quality and quantity of seeds. Carefully gathering pollinia on toothpicks at one site, we transferred them to plants at another site. The only successful pollinators of the eastern prairie white-fringed orchid are nocturnal hawkmoths. Despite the presence of these pollinators, the populations of these orchids remain small and fragmented so human intervention is necessary. To enhance genetic diversity, pollen is transferred from one subpopulation to another. In extreme cases, it is even shipped across the Midwest to ensure the success of this species across its entire range.
I showed up to Tonasket, Washington with a car filled to the brim with memories (junk) collected (hoarded) over my 22 years of life on the East Coast, two faded bumper stickers, and an incessantly lit check engine light. Like my Massachusetts license plate, I felt a little out of place in this small, self-sufficient community.
My position with CLM and the Forest Service has found me working on the Western half of the Colville National Forest, a mountainous forest dominated by douglas fir (Pseudotsuga menziesii) and pinegrass (Calamagrostis rubescens). While we wait for the forest’s forbs and grasses to mature enough for us to collect seeds, my co-intern and I have been conducting plant surveys alongside Tonasket’s botany team, searching for rare and invasive plants.
Views from Colville NF’s Buckhorn project area
At first I was intimidated by Erica, Tonasket’s head botanist’s, encyclopedic knowledge of the region’s plant species, but I appreciate deeply how much I have to learn from her. July Jenn already knows far more about plants than May Jenn did, and that is entirely thanks to Erica’s support and instruction. Some days the learning feels impossibly slow, like my team would probably run more smoothly without me there. But it’s the fact that despite my lack of experience, they’re still willing to bear with me and give me the opportunity to learn that I’m grateful for. Before, I was nervous that leaving academia meant the beginning of my brain’s deterioration, but it certainly won’t be rotting during the course of this internship.
So far, the team has successfully found several monkey flower (Erythranthe suksdorfii) a rare plant that the Forest Service has interest in cataloguing for further monitoring and protection. We’ve also gotten to visit known populations of columbia quillwort (Isoetes minima) and golden carpet (Chrysosplenium tetrandrum), rare plants that have previously been identified in Colville NF’s Buckhorn project area (the area in which we do the majority of our work). I feel incredibly lucky to have witnessed any of these plants in the wild, when I know some botany teams spend entire seasons searching for rare plants fruitlessly-no pun intended.
Every day is different in the field, and some are more challenging that others. My co-intern, David, and my first day conducting a survey independently of our mentor, Erica, sticks out as one of those days. Our task was to revisit a known population of Chrysosplenium tetrandrum, count the number of plants, and keep a running exhaustive species list of the project area. Simple enough. The very first hurdle of the day were my species identification skills (abysmal), the next was the path to our plant population sight (very overgrown). Navigating through unkempt undergrowth and over fallen trees alongside a healthy creek, while swatting mosquitos and avoiding prickly plants, I certainly got my socks wet a number of times, and sustained a healthy number of bruises. Discovering a Chrysosplenium population that had exploded since the last botanist site visit many years ago, however, was certainly worth the journey.
Everything is new to me here. The plants, the scenery, the gas prices. I can’t help but to think of the sights and sounds of east coast city life. The feeling of estrangement has been slow to fade–each day I encounter things that remind me how far I am from home. But I think it’s time for me to accept the unfamiliar, embrace the opportunity I’ve been given to work here, and hopefully to learn about myself alongside Okanogan County’s plant life.
butterfly and I enjoying the silky lupine (Lupinis sericeus)
The first week of interning was mainly an introduction to the Forest Service, trainings, learning local plant species and getting to know our team. We took trips to the field and collected plants to make our own sort of field guide to the grasslands. I also took one of the most interesting driving tests of my life. Our driving instructor (Brian Dickerson) wanted us to get some solid experience driving the trucks on dirt roads, so he took us on probably the most treacherous road in the area. I’m talking winding turns, loose gravel, lakes in the middle of the road, and steep boulders I didn’t even know the truck was capable of climbing. At the end of the day though, it did make me a more confident driver…I think. After drivers test, we got to help Brian check on some owl boxes in the area and look for frogs in the mud. Overall, 10/10.
View from the bunkhouse in Hill City, SD.Brian checking owl boxes.Homemade field guide.
Week two was where things got interesting. We started the process of aerial cover on our plots out at the Hay Canyon field site. This basically consists of moving large (heavy) “boardwalks” over each plot, identifying all species within a particular area of the plot, and then estimating the cover of each with another coworker. The first couple of days, it was pretty difficult for me to do all three of those things. I referred back to my field guide a lot and practically trial and errored my cover estimates until I could present a reasonable argument to my team member. We also started performing stem counts in the plots. For this procedure, a small PVC rectangle is placed in the lower left corner of the plot. Every single stem within this small rectangle must be identified to species and counted. Looking at the size of the rectangle, it does not seem so bad. However, some of the plots contain tricky species like Bouteloua gracilis, Bouteloua dactyloides, and Carex filifolia. Picking through each and every stem, verifying it is an actual stem, identifying it, and recording it can become a bit tedious at times, but I do feel quite accomplished when I am finished. Aerial cover and stem counts made up the majority of this last month, and I have gotten pretty good at identifying plant species.
Hay Canyon Field Site. (Those tiny specs are people).My best friend. Stem count quadrat.
Stem demography was next on the training list. We took measurements of development stage, stem length, and leaf length of marked grasses within each plot. This activity was rather cushy, compared to aerial cover and stem counts. One person sits and records all the numbers, while the other looks measures the stems of a small amount of grasses.
We also learned some new skills when it comes to measuring soil moisture, weather patterns, and maintaining the equipment. There are PVC tubes that go straight into the ground in the middle of each plot. Using a soil moisture probe, we can precisely measure changes in the soil throughout the growing season. We also use less advanced probes to measure the soil moisture at just two specific depths using a system called EC-5. The weather station monitors sunlight, wind, and precipitation at each of the field sites. We learned how to perform checks on all of the equipment. Lastly, our rainout shelters are an important part of the project. They simulate an extreme drought by blocking 50% of the precipitation a plot receives. Studying the differences in plant species and demography at these plots tells us a lot about how the grassland responds to drought. The shelter (see picture below) is at the mercy of the elements. The plastic shingles can become brittle in the sunlight, be severely damaged by the wind, and most recently, be absolutely annihilated by hail. After the last big storm, every single one of our rainout shelters at the badlands site was damaged and needed shingles to be replaced. Needless to say, we all learned a lot about maintaining these shelters.
Rainout shelter
After we finished aerial cover, stem counts, and stem demography for the Hay Canyon site, we got to move on to the Cedar Pass site, which is just south of Badlands National Park. The views from this site are beautiful, and the flora and fauna is just as interesting. However, the mosquitos, flies, and extreme heat were a bit much some days. It felt like no matter how much deet bug spray I put on, the insects still wanted to be all up in my business (and eyes, and nose, and ears). Like Tess said one day, “The flies are a great motivator to finish your stem counts quickly”. Last week, the heat got pretty unbearable in the badlands. There was little to no wind, no cloud cover, and radiating heat all day. I drank more water than I think I have my whole life and still ended up a little light headed. At least the view is good!
Cedar Pass Field Site view.
Our team has some fun stories and quirks. One of our supervisors, Jackie, is super energetic and even has her own catchphrases. “Take it to eleven”, referencing the movie “This is Spinal Tap” is one of them. One of the other interns, Kyle, always has a crazy story to tell about childhood, college, or culinary masterpieces (i.e. something he calls “Creamy Beans”). Perhaps one of the most interesting quirks of the team is the banana peel game. This all started when one of their previous seasonals threw a banana peel at Jackie. This seasonal, Brian, and Jackie began a years long banana war, where they would either throw banana peels at each other or hide them in some way. Think: banana peels on cars, in the mail, at your desk, etc. One day, I had a banana at lunch, and Jackie asked for the peel. She placed part of the peel on the dash of our coworkers car, and the other part in the gas cap. Our coworker later found the peel and sent a very serious text about his theories on how the rainout shelters got so destroyed. He believes it was not the hail, but in fact a very devious banana. The holes in the rainout shelters are about the the right size, so it makes sense. Jackie thinks it was more likely a cutie clementine, but apparently they are more into credit card fraud then destruction of property.
So far, I really like working with my team and living the Black Hills. When I am not counting grass out in the middle of no-man’s-land, I am most often enjoying the camping, hiking, and fishing in the area with my boyfriend. The views are stellar, and fishing is pretty good too :).
In southern Alaska, Colorado’s aspens and canyons are replaced by yellow and red cedar, by spruce and vast ocean. Utah’s diverse plant life – small geniuses in the art of conserving water – exchange places with green ferns and mossy forest floor, well-acquainted with rain and hungry for speckled light that dances slantways through dense canopy. Here, in southern Alaska, bald eagles attach to telephone wires, and locals are accustomed to the great bird’s presence. Bears follow your scent and encourage you to maintain conversation between field partners, to keep your eyes alert and to pay attention. Boats are about as common as cars for transport, and the concept of vast and grand exceed their common definitions.
Working on the Tongass National Forest this past month has meant a lot of different things. My field partner and I spent many days scouting and vouchering at potential seed collection sites, and there we collected data on the various native plant species in the area – their phenology, their population density, when we can anticipate they will go to seed. We helped out on a stream restoration crew, jamming logs into stream banks to restore meanders and a diversity of water-flow and attempt to build back habitat for spawning salmon. On one Saturday, I helped local kids paint imprints of salmon on blank T-shirts. On other days, we spent time training in safety protocols and herbicide use. We visited timber-harvest sale areas and while they looked at the trees, we looked at the understory with an eye out for anything rare, or lacking in abundance.
Identifying grasses with the larger Tongass National Forest Botany crew.
Lunch with the stream restoration crew.
While doing so, I have learned several things:
Plants, being immobile, have one of the broadest ranges of living beings.
Muskegs are the definition of the abundance of the small.
Skunk cabbage can grow taller than me, and spread wider too.
While plants in the desert might be smart in the conservation of water, plants in the rainforest know how to use water to their full advantage.
Rare plants, when you find them, feel like the most precious thing in the world.
Everything, that is, everything… is slippery.
Youth-on-age; Tolmiea menziesii.
Red Columbine; Aquilegia canadensis.
Each of these lessons stem from impactful experiences, yet perhaps the most impactful moment for me on the job this month occurred when we were conducting rare plant surveys and monitoring projects. While attending a forest-wide botany training on Prince of Wales Island – a remote four-hour ferry ride from our home Ranger District in Ketchikan – one of these rare species we were surveying and monitoring for was Yellow lady’s slipper (Cypripedium parviflorum var. pubescens). Often only showing a small, lush leaf or two, the elegant and plump lady’s slipper hides among large ferns and nestles in muskegs. She revels in the company of grasses and is what we call a “roadside rare.” How strange that such a scarce plant tends to grow best along the marginal edge of gravel roads. There are only four documented clusters of this variety of Cypripedium parviflorum on the Tongass NF. We located all four. At each site, we had multiple sets of eyes scanning every inch of ground for stems – for they are not only rare, but difficult to find. The first three sites were relatively abundant and some were in full flower, but the specimen we found at the fourth site was in poor shape. Reed canary grass (Phalaris arundinacea) reaching heights of four or five feet nearly covered the entire plant, and tree debris from a recent brushing procedure almost buried the few stems that were left.
Surveying for Yellow lady’s slipper (Cypripedium parviflorum var. pubescens).
The leaves were visibly chewed through and drooping. The chances of this fourth plant surviving seemed slim. I found myself questioning what to do. How do we choose to manage our forests? How do we decide to put our resources toward doing everything we can to attempt bringing this small cluster of stems to thrive again or acknowledge that we might not help this one, and to divert our work elsewhere? Conservation and land management is a complex task. It means making decisions about living beings other than yourself, while also managing for and understanding the impacts of your own species. It means taking the time to find the rare in the abundant, so that the ones not often spoken for might be.
Yellow lady’s slipper; Cypripedium parviflorum var. pubescens.
While the extent of our work for seed collections has been mapping potential population areas and scouting around the Caribou-Targhee, my co-intern Alex and I have been lucky enough to help out on a number of different projects, as well as spending a lot of time getting to know the plant populations here in Southeast Idaho. While working with a variety of resources across the forest, we have learned about riparian restoration, soil surveying, field photography, burn restoration, environmental education, and horsemanship. Every day is filled with opportunities to meet new people on the forest and pick up new skills.
View from Snakey Canyon while learning about NRCS soil/vegetation surveys
One of my favorite projects we worked on had us in the field with the Palisades wildlife biologists doing goshawk surveys on various project areas in the forest. Goshawks are considered a sensitive species by the Forest Service, so any project that might alter the habitat needs to undergo monitoring to determine if there are any nesting individuals present in the area. After spending hours bushwhacking through the forest, surrounded by swarms of mosquitos, we were rewarded by seeing a male goshawk circling above us. When we returned to the area hours later, we once again spotted a male goshawk. Chris, the lead wildlife biologist, told us that this behavior likely indicates that there may have been a nest in the area. The next day, we went out to a different section of the forest to monitor a known nesting site of a female goshawk. Goshawks may build several nests in a given area and can return to the same nest year after year, so they had known of a few potential nesting sites that this hawk may have returned to, and earlier this season the wildlife crew had found the nest that she chose for the season. Joe, the wildlife biologist we worked with that day, told us how this hawk’s mate had been killed last summer at a local ski resort and that they weren’t sure if there would be any signs of reproductive activity at the nest because goshawks sometimes mate for life. After arriving to the nest site and settling down into the undergrowth to watch the nest, we noticed her eyeing us (I can say with certainty that I now understand the expression “watching like a hawk”). Goshawks are notoriously defensive of their nests, and I had heard from several coworkers that we should be on the lookout for divebombing birds- some even suggested sitting with a large stick on top of our heads to give the hawks something other than our scalps to aim for! Luckily, this female opted to keep a sharp eye on our group. After sitting in captivated silence for a while, we noticed motion underneath the female, and spotted the fuzzy white bodies of at least two chicks in the nest. Going out with the wildlife biologists was a really cool experience as it gave me a chance to understand a bit more about all the steps a project needs to go through before action can happen on the forest. Even though a management plan may be as simple as removing fuels from the forest floor, it can have serious unintended impacts on the sensitive species in the area and ultimately damage the ecology of the forest.
Female goshawk in her nest
Another highlight of my time on the CT was helping out with a botany walk that my mentor set up for a group called Great Old Broads for Wilderness. During this botany walk, I got the chance to show off what I have been learning for the past month and help teach a group about plant identification and some of the native species present in the Teton Valley. The ladies that attended the walk were very enthusiastic and asked a lot of great questions about the plants in the area and some of the disturbances they were seeing along our hike. We got to tell them about the work we are doing for our seed collections, and they were very curious about what the point of seed collection was, the process of finding and collecting seed for various plants, and what they could do to help our project. I have worked in environmental education and outreach in the past, so it was fun to get to work with the public and educate a group about the work we are doing, especially because this group was so excited about learning new plants and exploring the forest with us.
While the first month has been filled with a ton of great experiences, it hasn’t come without its challenges. The first weeks of waiting for the field season to kick into gear definitely left me feeling a bit useless around the office, especially with the various difficulties I had in my Forest Service onboarding process. We have also faced many technical issues with Fieldnotes, making it difficult to document the work that we do with surveying for our target species. This, combined with our late start to surveying work, made it feel like we weren’t doing enough work for our seed collection project. Hopefully, as we move later into the season, we will be more able to make progress towards our seed collection goals!
From Left to Right: Bald Eagle over the streets of Ketchikan, Dorsal Fin of an Orca, American Red Squirrel; Bottom Row: Dorsal Fin of a Humpback Whale, Roughskin Newt chillin
The first month of this journey has been everything I was hoping for and more! The Tongass NF is so vast and filled with dense wilderness, it’s much more accessible by float plane or boat than by car. So we’ve been traveling mostly by boat, which can present challenges with rough seas or stormy days. However, the weather has been surprisingly incredibly nice. The tales of torrential rain 7 days a week were greatly over exaggerated (please don’t let this jinx me).
As we wait for our targeted species to flower, develop fruits, and then go to seed, we have filled our time with trainings, scouting, rare species surveys, and micro timber sale surveys. We’ve also done a few personal use timber surveys, a program that I believe is unique to Alaska. Each Alaskan resident is given the opportunity to take 10,000 board feet of timber for their personal use (usually to build a house or stock up on firewood). So i’ve gone out to a few different islands with the timber crew to survey the trees they’ve chosen to make sure it’s 150 ft away from any streams or eagles nest, the forest floor is clear of any rare species, and outside of any cultural resource sites. It’s been an interesting experience, my preconceived bias was that these individuals would want the biggest and easiest trees to extract. However, the individuals were very environmentally conscious, and turned down trees that they felt would disturb the ecology of the forest. Its refreshing to see how connected the residents here are with the forest, something that is not as common in other parts of America.
Anyways, I’m super excited for the rest of this adventure. I’ve learned a ton and can’t wait to absorb even more!
Left to Right: Canoeing to Lake Shelokum’s shelter, A big gash in an old growth stump, some beautiful Lupine , Bottom Row: rare fern species on botany training week, Me driving the boat with my upside down member CBG hat, surveying for yellow lady slipper.
It has been a month now since we arrived in Moose Pass, Alaska for the Conservation Land Management internship with the USFS. There has been constant on-and-off rain due to the monsoon this year and the flowers are just starting to bloom making it very difficult for us to begin collecting seeds. One of the first projects our mentor had us work on was to create a field reference guide of our priority plant species list for native seed collection.
During our first few weeks here, we have been assisting the USFS with other projects including putting up fencing along the shore of the Russian River to protect the vegetation from people who come for sport fishing season and treatment of an invasive plant species called Prunus Padas commonly known as European Bird Cherries.
Applying herbicide to a European Bird Cherry TreeSetting up fencing in the Russian River
European Bird Cherry, Prunus padas, is a highly invasive, rhizomatous plant that was planted as an ornamental years ago in Hope. Now certain remnants of it remain in the forest and have been visited over the last ~5 years by workers of the Forest Service to eradicate it from the area to prevent it from overtaking the native plants.
One day when we were out in Hope, Alaska searching for European Bird Cherries, our mentor discovered a Harlequin duck with a fishing line caught around its neck and attached to a log along the shore of the river. My mentor picked up the duck, I cut the line off of the duck’s neck, and we returned the duck back to the river.
Rescuing a Harlequin duck
We have also been using iNaturalist to make plant observations on any plant species we find while we are out scouting for possible seed collection sites along the many trails of the Kenai Peninsula. Additionally, we created 3 project pages on iNaturalist. One for users to make and share observations of plants and fungi throughout the Chugach National Forest, and two of which are for specific wildflower viewing areas where we have asked users to upload photos and information on plant phenology.
Below I have provided the links to our Three projects for anyone interested:
When we are not out in the field, we are usually in the office practicing keying out and pressing plant species that we have collected.
Keying out and Pressing PlantsOne of our priority species we collected and pressed called Geum Macrophyllum
June in the Chugach National Forest has been a difficult time for seed collection since most plants are still in early stages of phenology. Hopefully more plants begin to flower in July!
The fascinating thing about moving to a new place is the people you get to meet. Sometimes you never know what type of connections you will develop, the stories you will hear, the advice you will receive, and the memories you will make. More importantly, the opportunities the future will hold because “It’s all about connections” as stated by Kathryn, the FS Southwestern Regional Botanist, over lunch in Santa Fe.
Taylor, one of my CLM mentors at the Smokey Bear District, pointing to the different mountains surrounding Lincoln County to Peter, CLM co-intern, at Windy Point Vista Point of Interest.
My CLM mentor, Larry, is all too familiar with this concept. On more than one occasion he mentioned one of the factors that led him to become the Wildlife Biologist at Smoker Bear District for the Lincoln National Forest was because the HR person was someone that knew him from a previous job in Oregon. Of course, the HR individual put in a good word for him. Nearing end of the story, Larry mentions he genuinely loves his job because for the past 35 years he worked closely with Mexican spotted owl across the Lincoln NF. This raptor species was another reason why Larry took the job here as he previously worked with the Northern spotted owls on the Mount Baker-Snoqualmie NF.
A pair Mexican spotted owl fledglings perched on a white fir branch in Lincoln FS.
A female Mexican spotted owl feeding a dead mice to one of her fledglings.
Unfortunately, the Mexican spotted owl is federally listed as a threatened species under the Endangered Species Act. The decline of the species is due to habitat loss and alteration caused by timber harvest and wildfires over the years. Therefore, part of Larry’s job is to conduct owl surveys, which determine the location and distribution of owl pairs and nest sites and determine if they are successfully producing offspring.
Luckily, Larry took us with him on an owl survey on our third day on the job. As we drove into Lincoln NF, I didn’t know what to expect other than Larry was looking for the owls while we did some botanizing along the way. However, Larry explained the survey process starts by hiking into the forest with a known pair activity, in other words, where owls were known to nest. Often occurs in the Canadian life zone, which consists of mixed conifer forest that includes species such as white fir, Douglas fir, southwestern white pine, ponderosa pine, etc.
Mixed conifer forest found in Lincoln NF.
Once at the area, owl calls are played off a recording, or if you are like Larry, different owl calls are imitated to entice the owl for a response. Usually, this part of the survey process would happen in the night. If there was a response, they would go back to the area the next morning and look at any owls or fledglings on the surrounding trees. Once an owl is located and no fledglings are in sight, they try to locate the nest by offering a live mouse to the male or female owl hoping it will take it back to their offspring.
Unfortunately, there was no response in our first location. However, at our second location, Larry was able to locate the fledglings after seeing the shadow of an owl fly over him when he imitated different owl sounds. You can hear his excitement as he called out to us to come over where he was.
As I approached where he was standing, I saw a bundle of football size white fuzz on a branch. It was my first time seeing a pair of fledgling and I didn’t expect how odd looking they were going to be. Nonetheless, it was a sight to see. Larry then located the female owl nearby, which was difficult to spot as it camouflaged with the bark and branches of the trees. Larry then carefully removed a live mouse from a container and placed it on a nearby branch. Watching, we saw the owl position itself for flight and take the mice without making a sound. Eventually, taking the mice to one of the fledglings.
As Larry shares information to the group about the species, a male Mexican spotted owl “successfully” takes the mice that was placed on a branch.
We continue marvel at the raptor species, but eventually, it was time to head back to the office.
Umpqua National Forest, a land of many tall trees and rushing waterfalls, has become my home for the next six months. It was initially terrifying having just graduated school and moved across the country, however, now it has all become so familiar. Everyday visits from the blue jays and other winged pleasantries are an everyday occurrence that starts the day with a sense of joy and peace. One of the things about moving across the country and living all by yourself post-graduation is a journey of self-discovery. Something you may have once held true twists and turns and becomes a completely different reality when you’re abreast with the solitudinous of nature. Being immersed with the entities that this planet calls its children puts into perspective the true purpose of oneself. A quote from Anne Frank reads, “I firmly believe that nature brings solace in all troubles.” As you enter the grand domain of nature you start to find those worries and anxieties that you hold so tightly to your chest peel away as if they were never there in the first place. Personally, living within the natural world has helped quell an incredibly anxious time of existential dread. Umpqua National Forest has become the perfect antidote for this never-ending disease.
A great view of the North Umpqua scenery atop the Pine Bench Trail
Besides the philosophical transformation taking place within the forest, I have been put to work and have made great progress in plans to collect seeds. My co-intern Casey and I have begun to map different collection points for the particular collection species native to Umpqua, my personal favorite being the yarrow. Although we have begun to make progress, much of our duties insofar have been delegated to the removal of invasive species such as himalayan blackberry, scotch broom, and certain thistles. Most of our days include mapping of treatments for invasives and getting stabbed by himalayan blackberry while treating. As well, we have also had the luxury of doing rare species monitoring at Tiller Ranger Station, climbing Mt. Fuji in the Willamette National Forest to identify White bark pine, and plenty of other out of the ordinary training opportunities. One especially important to me was being able to get my felling and bucking license after not being able to get it the previous summer. I’m sure there will be plenty more training opportunities in the future for us to capitalize on.
Atop Mt. Fuji
Lastly, I feel it is important to talk about the incredible coworkers that I have that are making this experience that much better. Everybody who I have run into at the Botany Department has helped me in some sort of way whether it be in plant identification or just making me feel welcomed. As everybody knows coworkers can make or break a job. I can tell that mine are going to make it better. Until next months post…
(Some extra pictures to finish off the post)
Western sheep moth on some CeanothusWestern Rattlsnake Plantain (I thought these only existed out East!)Dog for good luck
