Indian plum is one of the first plants to bloom in spring. The pointed leaves arch up and back like tiny green wings and one soft tutu opens beneath. This small tutu is quickly followed by another and another and another, until each leaf cluster drips with a cascade of beautiful white blossoms. These blossoms will one day become tiny purple berries, so purple as to be almost black. The Salish indians used to eat indian plum berries in a variety of forms: fresh, cooked, dried, stewed in grease, etc. I've tasted the berries and don't find them very palatable. Salal berries are much tastier and huckleberries tastier yet. Indian plum twigs can be chewed until softened and applied to cuts and sores to help them heal. The bark can be steeped into a tea and used as a purgative or tonic to cleanse the bowels.
Soft grey pussy-willows made an appearance several weeks ago and have now grown into big, fat, puffy, yellowish, catkins. Soon, the catkins will become leaves, showering the now bare limbs with green.
Tree sap is starting to run freely in the warmer temperatures of spring. It seems strange to refer to February as spring, as spring doesn't officially begin until the end of March, but the weather is behaving as if it's spring and the wetland is responding as if it's spring, so I'm going to unofficially declare it spring. Soon hungry sapsuckers will be drilling away at the bark of the trees in search of globules of nice, sweet sap.
Birds and ducks are starting to pair up as mating season quickly approaches. I counted fourteen mallards swimming around in Brooklake on February 8, 2010. These mallards were just about equally divided between male and female. Several of the males and females appeared to have paired up with one another. The others were gathered into very distinct groups - either all male, or all female. I wonder what criteria the ducks use to select a mate. It would be fun to have enough time to sit around and watch them work this process out, don't you think?
The frogs have started singing their little hearts out all over the wetland. It sounds like an amphibian rendition of Sgt Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band just about everywhere you go. It's time to keep my opens open and start looking for amphibian egg-masses, especially in the small pools of water that have formed around the tree wells.
The weather in February 2010 is very different than the weather was during the same period of time in 2005. On February 12, 2005, lichen-covered logs sparkled with crisp white frost. There were slippery patches of ice on the boardwalk, as well as many of the shallow, slow-moving areas of water, including the tree wells. The water level in the park was alarmingly low for the time of year. All, but the very center, of Brooklake was covered by a thin sheet of ice.
On February 14, 2010, three bald eagles were soaring around Marlake performing an aerial mating dance. That was an amazing sight to see. Male and female flew around the lake in great circles before coming together and locking talons. Then, one eagle upright and the other upside-down, the locked eagles would tumble towards the lake in a beautiful, breath-taking, death-spiral, unlocking their talons at the very last second, then flying huge circles around the lake once again. They repeated this death-defying dance of fate over and over and over again to an awe-inspired audience of one. I felt very honored to have been able to witness this breath-taking mating dance.
The weather on February 14, 2010, was a balmy 55 degs F. and it was raining. The water level in both lakes was nice and deep, and every tree-well contained a little pool that was just perfect for amphibian eggs.
On February 21st, 2010, I found my first amphibian egg-masses of the year and danced a little dance of joy right there in the middle of the boardwalk. Overnight temperatures hovered around freezing, but a daytime high of 50 degs F. was predicted for the afternoon.
I entered the West Hylebos Wetland about 9:45 a.m. and found the grass covered in frost and glimmering in the sunlight as if covered with diamond dust. Even though the grass was crunchy with frost, rabbits were wandering around the meadow, busily munching on fresh spring greens. Migrating birds were starting to make an appearance and the trees were filled with a symphony of song. Douglas squirrels were wide awake and scampering all over the place.
On February 22nd, 2010, amphibian egg-masses had shown up in the deep sinks and Marlake was absolutely full of big, gooey, globs of eggs. If you looked around the edges of the lake, you could see the eggs attached to stems and twigs just beneath the surface of the water.
Ducks were now pairing up on both lakes, a sign that it wouldn't be too long before long trains of fluffy yellow ducklings would be trailing their parents around the lakes.
By February 28th, 2010, there were amphibian eggs in just about every still pool of water that I looked into. I ran into a small group of people who were taking a walk around the boardwalk and they saw me fiddling with my camera and asked me what I was up to. I told them that I was looking for, and photographing, amphibian eggs, and asked them if they'd seen any. By the puzzled looks on their faces, I knew that they didn't have any idea what I was talking about, so I pulled up some of the photographs that I'd just taken on my camera and told them where to look and what to look for. They got very excited about this information and went off in search of their own.
About half an hour later, I ran into the same group of people near Marlake. They were brimming over with excitement and grinning from ear to ear. Ever since I'd shown them what to look for and where to look, they'd starting seeing eggs everywhere they went. They hadn't noticed them before and couldn't believe that they'd been casually wandering past all of those eggs, completely oblivious to their existence. I suggested that they return to the park every week and check up on the progress of the eggs. If they did, they'd be able to watch the tadpoles wriggling around inside of the eggs. Soon, the tadpoles would burst free of the egg masses and go popping and squeaking around the edges of the lake. "They pop and squeak?", the excited chorus asked. Indeed they do! I've run into more than one group of excited visitors rushing away from Marlake, with eyes big as saucers, babbling about the giant, squeaky, black globs that popped up out of the water when they approached the lake. The bullfrog tadpoles are really huge and put on quite a show, which can be a wee bit alarming if you don't know what's going on. Tadpoles are fun! Remember, this is Marlake, not Lake Placid! There are no people eaters in the West Hylebos Wetland.
New growth is just starting to poke it's head up through the carpet of dead, brown, leaves on the wetland floor. First the false-bleeding-hearts, then the stinging nettles, and soon the false-lily-of-the-valley.
Salmonberries are also just beginning to bud. It won't be long before the wetland is full of color. Spring is just around the corner.
Teri Lenfest
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