Skunk Cabbage and Cormorants

by admin on April 24, 2012

I was walking across the field; being towed, really, by a white fluffy white dog named Dakota. My husband, Matt was with us. Blackberry brambles covered the shrubs and trees to my right, beyond them was the river. To my left was a small field of open rolling grass. Bramble-covered shrubs and trees lined the far side as well, marking where the river bent back on itself.

The air was clear and warm. I passed through clouds of the aroma of a natural perfume; a sweet, musky smell reminding me of fringecup flowers but with a bit more musk to it. The scent was very strong but I could see no source for it.

I walked to the edge of the river bank, scanning the landscape for flowers. Besides the dandelion and English daisy, the only thing in bloom was skunk cabbage. I’ve smelled skunk cabbage before – it has that name for good reason. I couldn’t imagine this lovely scent was coming from that flower.

Typically I smell things in whiffs and can barely hold them long enough to formulate a description. But these clouds of smell were huge and lingering. I inhaled deeply, enjoying the sweetness. Even Matt caught the scent, confirming it wasn’t my imagination.

Still curious about the source of the aroma, we continued towards the tip of the field, where the river bends back on itself. We were following four cormorants that we’d flushed from behind our neighbor’s house, a two-story dwelling that overlooks the river at the base of this oxbow. I was hoping to get a photo of the birds swimming.

I had noticed cormorants on the river the day before – my first time ever seeing them on our little stretch of water. There were nine of them below the bridge at South Valley, and one had just come up with a 4-6” long silver fish in its beak. The bird quickly swallowed and seven of the animals flapped their way up river, out of sight beyond the bend. Dakota and I lingered on the bridge and got to see the last two birds do a couple more dives, tails flaring like open fans, before they too spooked and flew upriver, wings slapping against the water. One paused long enough for me to see the bright orange skin around the base of its bill and around its eye, identifying it as a double-crested cormorant.

Earlier this day Matt had pointed out huge flocks of cormorants circling over the section of river behind our house. We were now down in the field expressly to watch the cormorants. As we walked across the grass surges of cormorants began flying in over the tree tops, splitting into smaller groups as some landed in the water to our left, some to our right, and some further upstream. Matt suggested that these were the same flocks he had seen earlier in the day, who had drifted down with the current and were just arriving back to repeat the cycle.

I left the dog with Matt and slipped into the open brush that bordered the crest of the oxbow. There were no cormorants. I headed downstream to see if they were around the bend and stumbled into a small meadow full of blooming skunk cabbage.

The piercing acrid smell I was accustomed to experiencing around skunk cabbage wasn’t present. In its place was a sweet musky aroma – the scent I’d caught earlier in the field! Amazed, my pursuit of the wily cormorants was forgotten and I bent down for closer inspection.

Eventually I recalled that I’d left Matt and the dog behind in order to see the birds. I continued around the bend only to have them spot me first and take flight further downstream. But that was okay with me – I’d discovered something new about a plant that I’ve never given much thought to. Now the wheels are turning and I find myself drawn to learn more about this early spring bloomer.

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Ribbit…Croak…Brock

by admin on April 10, 2012

Ribbit, croak, brock
However you call it, my nights are full of it
My days, too
As the frogs call to each other, searching for love in the din.

Our first year pond was barren,
As it was in year two as well.
There was a single frog calling in year three,
But no gals ventured from the wetland to join him.

Year four we heard him again
And the first native tadpoles swam
In our tiny little pond.
This year…

Well, this year we’ve heard at least three different frogs singing
From that itsy bit of water real estate.
And there continue to be new batches of frog eggs
Every week.

The first ones started hatching last week,
Tiny little sperm-shaped vegetarians.
There is plenty of algae in the pond to feed them all.
But I don’t think there will be enough room at the inn
Next year, when they all return to breed!

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Like Cordwood

April 9, 2012

the sea lions are stacked like cordwood piles of noses and tails silent until some unseen signal sends a ripple of barks and wild gesticulations through the entire raft.

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Moon Rise

April 6, 2012

Tonight I saw the moon rise. The brightness over the top of the barn lured me upstairs for a view of the full moon. But she wasn’t above the distant hill, there was just the glow filling the sky. I waited and when I saw a sparkling light glimmering through the trees I thought it [...]

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13 Ways of Looking at a Puddle

April 5, 2012

Bird bath. Splash ammo. Mallard slurpie. Toy boat ocean. Mini Great Salt Lake. Yard dog water dish. Mud pit track-catcher. Soaker of shoes and socks. Reflector of sky and forest. Mesmerizing mud pit of wonder. Captured rainwater collecting in pools. Multi-dimensional source of meditation. Vernal skunk cabbage and tadpole nursery.

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Coyote Song

April 4, 2012

The last three nights you’ve called, Warbling voices echoing across the valley, Your almost-human sounds exposing your early evening escapades. I strain to listen, To make out the words of your song, But you’re singing in a language I do not understand. Still your music enters me – primal, deep; An awakening, and All I [...]

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NaPoWriMo!

April 3, 2012

It’s National Poem Writing Month and I thought, what better way to get back into the swing of things? I’ve been missing my sweet Peachie and have found it very difficult to hit the trails now that my hiking and exploring buddy is no longer with me.  A daily poem and piece of art may [...]

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In Loving Memory

February 28, 2012

I had the great fortune of having as a hiking companion for almost ten years Miss Peaches, the black lab in the photo above. Peaches came to live with us when we lived at a state park. It was a park with three miles of trails and about 800 acres of forested hillside. My job [...]

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Tracks

February 17, 2012

It’s been difficult getting out for a walk every day, being sick really puts a damper on any kind of motivation. I have gone out more days than not this week though and was rewarded every time with something fascinating! Here are a couple of pieces of evidence I found of local wildlife. Opossum Tracks [...]

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Notice Your Questions

February 8, 2012

One of the things that differentiates a naturalist from other people is their insatiable curiosity about what they observe.  Take this worm for example: Most people on this planet wouldn’t pause to even notice this worm, who was crawling across the labyrinth I was walking today.  As soon as I saw it, questions started popping [...]

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