Blog From The Bog

Salmon Release

Today was the annual salmon fry release into West Hylebos Park.  The Issaquah Salmon Hatchery gifts our local elementary schools with fertilized salmon eggs every year.  While the salmon eggs grow into salmon fry, the students learn about the life cycle of wild salmon.  When the fry are large enough to survive in the wild, the students bring the young salmon over to the park and set them free.  In the past, this has been a rather laid-back event; school buses arrive at the park, the kids take their salmon fry down to the bridge crossing West Hylebos Creek, name them, release them, return to the meadow for lunch, then head back to school.  The city of Federal Way really went the extra mile this year, turning the salmon release into a fantastic event.

I arrived at the park around 9 a.m. and was instantly startled to discover that the Historical Society of Federal Way had painted the old Denny cabin a hideous gray.  I just stood in the parking lot with my jaw agape.  I knew they were going to paint the cabin, but I wasn't expecting them to paint it dove gray.  At the end of the day, when this tired old woman left the park, she was delighted to discover that the gray paint she'd seen in the morning had just been an undercoat and that painters were busy painting over the gray paint with a much more reasonable shade of brown.  It looks great, but, I have to admit that it's going to take a little getting used to.  The cabin has been a very red shade of brown for as long as I can remember.  All of the red is gone now, leaving the Denny cabin almost the color of chocolate.  Hey, who doesn't like chocolate?

The Historical Society of Federal Way opened up the old Barker cabin for the day so that the kids could go inside and see how their ancestors lived when they first settled in the Pacific Northwest.   Between Panther Lake Elementary School and Camelot Elementary school we had about a hundred students in the park, who were divided up into six groups, accompanied by teachers and volunteer leaders.

 

 

 

 

Mayor Skip Priest started the morning off with a short speech, during which he announced the Storming the Sound with Salmon project.  This grant will allow the City to expand salmon rearing to more schools and introduce stormwater education into our classrooms.  He also introduced the people who would be in charge of all of the activities that were slated to happen today.  In addition to the kids visiting the old Barker cabin, volunteers from the Issaquah Salmon Hatchery were going to dissect salmon so that the kids could learn about internal salmon anatomy, volunteers from EarthCorps were going to lead a salmon life-cycle game, salmon fry were going to be released into West Hylebos Creek, I was going to walk the kids over to Marlake and teach them about the life-cycle of frogs and how to find wildlife in the park, the kids were going to participate in habitat restoration by placing mulch around the young native plants that we planted in our latest restoration area several months ago, and each group would then plant a Western Red Cedar seedling.  The day would wrap up with a picnic lunch in the meadow.

Mother Nature cooperated with us in so many ways.  First of all, she presented us with a bright, sunny, 68 degree F. day, without a cloud in the sky.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

As late as last Saturday, our local weather-people were predicting rain, tapering off to showers in the afternoon.  Instead, there wasn't a cloud in the sky.  My face got sunburned even though I was wearing a ballcap with a pretty substantial bill.

 

 

 

 

 

 

You couldn't ask for a prettier day, or a prettier place, to have a picnic lunch!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

That was just one of the fantastic gifts Mother Nature presented us with today.  She also gave us the very first land snail of the season, which, of course, immediately began it's annual trek across the gray gravel trail, amid the thunder of several hundred 5th-grade feet.

 

 

 

 

 

 

I led the kids on a walk down to Marlake, where I taught them about the life-cycle of frogs.  Mother Nature dug into her bag of tricks and came up with a different surprise for every group.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I saw a little garter snake down by the edge of the lake, but immediately after I spotted it, a crow swooped down out of a nearby tree, snatched the little snake out of the grass, and gobbled it down.  Later, another garter snake crossed the path in front of us and disappeared into the underbrush on the other side.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Another group spotted a tiny baby brush rabbit.  It was so small that you could have put it in a teacup.

 

 

 

 

 

 

One of the mother mallards decided to bring her babies out on the lake for the very first baby train of the season.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Although most of the amphibian eggs in the lake have hatched into tadpoles, this beautiful little pouch of amphibian eggs decided to float within a foot of the lake edge, then stayed there through four entire tours.  By the time I took the fifth tour down to the lake, I could see that the pouch of eggs was floating away, and I couldn't find them at all for the final group of kids.

 

 

 

 

A lot of the kids weren't nearly as impressed by the amphibian eggs as they were by the fact that the trout were hanging out, bugging, really close to the edge of the lake.  The kids could see the fish milling around near the pond grass and breaking the surface of the water.  Those fish were the stars of the show!

 

 

 

 

 

I must have spotted at least thirty, yeppers 30, red-legged frogs in the park today.  They were everywhere!  I spotted six here, and six there, and five somewhere else, and another three in the next pool of water.  The only place I didn't spot any frogs was under the bridge on the Brooklake spur.

 

 

 

 

 

 

I had to woman my station, giving one frog talk after another, so I didn't get to see any of the salmon fry get released.  One group of kids got lost on their way to West Hylebos Creek though and after I turned them around and got them headed in the proper direction, I had an opportunity to look in their bucket and see all the little fish they were about to release into the wild.

 

 

 

 

 

After the kids departed, I walked down to the bridge over West Hylebos Creek and spotted one of the fry happily swimming around in it's new home.  I decided to name it Hylebos Harry.  Go, little Harry.  Stay safe, hide from pedators, find your way to the ocean, grow as big as you can, and come back to us in a few years.  Calm seas and following winds, as sailors say.  We're rooting for you, little guy!

 

 

 

 

 

And so, peace and quiet was once again restored to the park.  After the kids were gone, I retired to Dana Buck's house, where we sat on her sofa, facing Marlake, drinking wine, talking about our day, and watching as, one at a time, the ducks and birds that had gone into hiding when all of the kids showed up, returned to the lake.  The perfect end to a perfect day.  What's not to love?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Teri I. Lenfest

Advancing Leadership 2012

Today was the day scheduled to lead the 2012 Advancing Leadership tour through the park.  The rain slammed against my window so hard this morning that I was really beginning to have my doubts about the whole thing, but as the time slated for the tour approached, the weather began to clear up a little bit.  I wore my raincoat and rainpants anyway, just in case.  More than twenty-five hardy northwesterners showed up at the park raring to go.  They arrived about fifteen minutes late to find no parking at the park.  A group from Highline Community College had arrived ahead of them and taken all of the available parking places.  I'd only been given forty-five minutes total in which to get them through the park. which included the time I needed to present my little preparatory speech at the beginning.  My normal wildlife tour takes about two hours, so it was obvious to me that we weren't going to get very far through the park.  The way things worked out, these fun folks were destined to be late arriving at their next park as well.

I arrived at the park about twenty minutes early so that I could scope it out before our visitors arrived and decide on the best way to get them through the park in the available time, as if that's ever really happened.  I went down to Marlake first and startled my first bullfrog of the season.  I saw three male mallards, but no females, so the females must be on the nest.  I saw three female buffleheads, but no males......so, the males are on the nest?  Don't be silly!  Like that's ever going to happen.  A male and female red-winged blackbird were singing in the reeds and this beautiful northern flicker was calling from a nearby tree.  I saw three tiny red-legged frogs in the wet area in between the orchard and the blue gravel trail.  These little frogs were only about the size of a dime.  That was all the time I had to look for wildlife before heading back to the parking lot.  As it turned out, I could have spent another fifteen minutes exploring.  The only person waiting in the parking area was Margery Godfrey of the Friends of the Hylebos.  The fact that the Advancing Leadership group was late gave us time to plan our course of action.  Because I'm most knowledgeable about what lives in the park, Margery asked me to give the introductory speech, then we planned to split into two separate groups and head in different directions.  The plan half-worked, which is half more than it usually does.  You know what they say about the best laid plans.

Everyone followed me as far as the Deep Sinks, where two little red-legged frogs hung around to watch the show.  The frogs were so small and well-camouflaged that people had trouble finding them, so we spent quite a bit of our allotted time at the Deep Sinks looking for frogs.  In what seemed like an unreasonably short time, Margery started tapping her watch, letting me know that my time was up and it was time to turn the group around and head them back to the parking lot.  But, we've only gotten to the Deep Sinks, said I.  Too bad, we're out of time, head 'em out.  Bwaaaahahahaha, like that's really going to happen!  Instead of heading right, and out of the park, at the fork in the trail, Margery continued around the short side of the loop.  Whoops!  Her end of the group was now in the lead, and so far ahead of me that I wasn't able to head them off and turn them around, so I opted to follow Margery.  Her end of the group actually made it all of the way down to Brooklake, while my end of the group got delayed looking for amphibian eggs at the owl tree and talking about the baby barred owl.

This beautiful spotted towhee was singing it's heart out in a tree near the meadow, where we spotted three brush rabbits munching down on fresh spring grass.  Needless-to-say, we were very, very late arriving back at the parking lot. I made sure that everyone had cards with my contact information and the link to the blog.  That way, they can get in touch with me if they want to get the full two-hour tour.  So, ahhhh.....the city is expecting me to get 100 fifth-graders through the park on Monday.  Considering how well two of us did with less than thirty adults, what do you think our odds are on Monday?  It's going to be exciting!  Life in the wetland is never boring!  I love this life!

 

 

Teri I. Lenfest

Snakes

Most people are hard-wired to be inordinately terrified of certain things.  Among those things are snakes.  Whether it's reasonable or not, if you're afraid of certain things - you're afraid of certain things, and no one is going to convince you otherwise.  On the other hand, there are those who absolutely love the very same things that are apt to scare the pants off of others.  Such is life.  I love snakes, and that's a good thing because West Hylebos Park is full of them.

Snakes are reptiles, but not the only reptiles.  Turtles and lizards are also reptiles; but, unlike turtles and lizards, snakes have no legs.  They have lungs, so they breathe air like we do.  Unlike snakes, humans are warm-blooded.  We have systems inside of our bodies that are in charge of regulating how hot or cold our bodies get.  When we get too warm, we sweat, shed some of our clothing, seek shade, and drink and eat things that are cold.  When it gets too cold, we add layers of clothing, drink and eat things that are hot, and pump up the heat.  Snakes, on the other hand, are cold-blooded.  They have no internal body systems to regulate how hot or cold they get.  In order to regulate their body temperature, they have to rely upon the sun and the air temperature.  When it's cool, snakes are sluggish and need to warm up in the sun before they can hunt.  If you catch a snake just crawling out of it's hiding place in search of a warm place to bask in the sun, you'll notice that it's moving comparatively slow.  Once that snake is nice and warm, it can move like greased-lightening.  In the winter, when it gets too cold, snakes find a den and hibernate until spring arrives and things warm up again.  When snakes hibernate, all of their body systems slow way down, almost to the point of death, they get rather stiff, and don't react very well, if at all.  Sometimes, humans buy snakes as pets and don't really understand this hibernation process.  Thinking their pets are dead, they toss them out, only to discover that once their pets have thoroughly warmed up, they slither away.  Sometimes snakes spend the winter hibernating alone.  At other times, snakes may hibernate together.  It depends upon the snake, the available habitat, and the circumstances. Once a snake selects an appropriate den, it tends to reuse that den year after year. Because the great Pacific Northwest is generally cooler than other places in the country all year around, we tend to have fewer snakes than in some other places.  Eastern Washington has more snakes than Western Washington because the climate there is much different than ours.

Unlike amphibians, snakes breed on the ground.  When snakes wake up from hibernation, they have two things on their minds - finding food and finding a mate. It's very hard to tell a female snake from a male snake, even for snakes, so the females leave a scent-trail on the ground for the males to follow. I once saw a National Geographic program on snakes and remember seeing this huge conglomeration of wriggling, writhing snakes that were mating.  I've never seen a snake-ball, but Adele Freeland says that she witnessed one once in the park.  I'd love to see that, wouldn't you?  Snakes may emerge from hibernation as early as March, depending upon the weather.  They might not stay outside of their dens for prolonged periods of time then, because it's probably still too chilly for them, but they may sneak out every now and then to check things out and they may stay out for a while if they can find a nice sunny rock, sidewalk, log, or piece of asphalt to warm up on.  Although snakes need to warm up so they can move quickly enough to hunt and catch food, they can easily become overheated.  Because of this, they will often withdraw to shady spots during the hottest part of the day.

Some snakes lay their eggs outside of their bodies, while other snakes retain their eggs inside of their bodies, but all of our snakes begin their lives as eggs.  Unlike chicken eggs that have hard shells, snake eggs are more or less leathery.  Snakes can lay anywhere from 10 - 15 eggs at a time. Garter-snakes keep their eggs inside of their bodies.  After the baby snakes hatch out of the eggs, the mother gives birth to them, then the mother snake slithers away and leaves the baby snakes to fend for themselves.  Snakes are not attentive parents.  If hungry, a snake will even eat it's own babies.  It takes a baby snake approximately two to four years to become an adult.  Snake skin doesn't stretch as the snake grows; so, in order to grow larger, a snake has to shed it's skin.  This process doesn't hurt the snake.  A baby snake may shed it's skin every four to five weeks.  During it's juvenile period, a young snake will shed it's skin about four times a year.   Once it becomes an adult, it may only shed it's skin once a year.

 

If you see a snake in the park, you should consider yourself lucky.  Never kill a snake in the park.  Snakes are a vital part of the park's ecosystem.  Snakes eat huge numbers of things that could become a nuisance if left unchecked, such as:  mice, voles, moles, snails, slugs, worms, bugs, fish, frogs, lizards, salamanders, and even bird eggs.  Unlike humans, snakes can unhinge their jaws.  This allows them to swallow things that are bigger than their heads or bodies!  That's like you being able to swallow an entire chicken without having to cut it up first.  You can actually watch the big lump of food travel down through the snake's body as it's digested.  That's pretty cool, huh?  On the other hand, there are many things in the wetland that like to eat snakes, like great blue herons, coyotes, opossums, raccoons, weasels, hawks, eagles, and owls, for instance.  Everything in the park eats everything else in the park.  Add, or remove, any one thing from the park and you might upset the entire balance of nature within that ecosystem.

There are twelve species of snakes living in Washington State, but of those twelve, only the western rattlesnake is capable of inflicting a fatal bite.  Now, that doesn't mean that a gartersnake won't strike at you, or bite you, if you corner, or threaten, it.  It can and will try to protect itself.  But, garter-snakes don't produce venom and lack the venom-injecting fangs of rattlesnakes, so you may get bitten and, if you do, it's not going to be fun, but you're not going to die from it.  As far as we know, there are no rattlesnakes in West Hylebos Park.  There are three species of garter-snakes in Washington State, among which are the common garter-snake, the western terrestrial garter-snake, and the northwestern garter-snake.  The snake you're most likely to spot in the park is the common garter-snake.  This snake can grow to be anywhere from two to three feet long and can come in a variety of colors - anything from brownish-gray to black, with stripes that are yellow, white, aqua, blue, or green, and may even have red spots down it's sides.

I've seen garter-snakes swimming in Marlake, sunning on or beside the gray gravel trail, in the grass along the edges of the meadow, in the trees edging Marlake, on Dana Buck's steps and porch, in or around the woodpile, on top of the dock, on the board sticking into the water at the edge of the lake, on the log-boom crossing the north end of the lake, on top of the boardwalk, and here and there along the edges of the boardwalk, crawling down the middle of the sidewalk near the parking lot, and just about every place else you can think of.  Yep, at West Hylebos Park, you can even find a snake in the grass!

 

 

Snakes use more than their eyes to hunt for prey.  They can actually smell and taste the air with their forked tongues.  When you see their tongues quickly darting in and out of their mouths, that's exactly what they're doing - smelling and tasting the air to see what's hiding in the area around them.  When a snake's darting his tongue at you, he's trying to figure out exactly what you are and if you're friend or foe.  The next time you see a snake in the park, there's no need to run from it.  If you don't move toward it, the snake will usually be content to sit there, all curled up, watching you, as you watch it.  We love our snakes in West Hylebos Park and hope you love them as much as we do!

 

 

Teri I. Lenfest

 

 

 

Frogs, frogs, everywhere!

Friday the 13th passed without event, but barely.  At 1:30 a.m., on the morning of the 14th, our pipes burst in the kitchen, flooding the apartment with ankle-deep water.  We couldn't turn the water off because the turn-off valve had blown off and we had no idea where the master valve was located on the outside of the building.  By the time the emergency maintenance man arrived, turned the water off, repaired the pipe, and sucked a ton of water out of the apartment, it was 3:30 in the morning.  Walking across the carpet was like walking across a waterlogged sponge.  All of the drawers in the cabinet opposite the sink were full of water and everything had to be removed from them and left out so that the drawers could dry.  There was even water inside of the oven, as the spray went through the burner holes.  Needless to say, I was one bleary-eyed puppy by the time the sun rose and the carpet man arrived.  After sucking up as much water as he could, he pulled up the edges of the carpet and installed three huge industrial fans and an industrial-sized dehumidifier in order to dry out the carpet and pad underneath so that they didn't mold.  With the fans blowing beneath it, the carpet was dancing around like a live thing, scaring the heck out of our cat, who arched her back, hissed and spit at the carpet and moaning fans, then took refuge under the bed and refused to come out.  There was nothing I could do at home until things were restored back to normal, and the carpet man said that would take all weekend.  So, exhausted, bleary-eyed, and frazzle-brained, I went to the park.  It was a nice sunny day to play around in the park, if I could only keep my eyes open.

I usually go to the park with a focus.  As I wander around, I'm looking for specific things.  I'll take anything I find and get great joy from it, but I'm actively searching for something in particular.  Today, my focus was on snakes.  It seemed like it would be a good snaky day:  not too hot, not too cold, with plenty of sunshine to entice hungry snakes to warm-up and hunt.  I have to report that I didn't see so much as a single snake and I guarantee you that I checked all of the usually snaky places.  I did spot this beautiful Anna's hummingbird though.  I've been working in the park for more than a decade and this is only the second time I've seen a hummingbird there.  It was very small and very far away, but it's motion and vibrant pink neck caught my attention.    At the moment, I had no idea what it was.  Something had moved and attracted my attention and whatever it was was this neon pink color.  Because I don't own a car and have to carry everything with me, like a pack mule, I don't usually carry my binoculars, but use my camera to zoom in on things instead.  That doesn't save me much weight, but even a couple of ounces helps.  Fortunately, I'd had to wait for the light to change at the corner, so had rooted my camera out of my pack and hung it around my neck as I waited.  Had I not done that, I'd of missed the opportunity completely.  As it turned out, I had to go to full 74X digital-zoom mode in order to see this little bird, so the photo is very blurry.  Even though it's blurry, I'm so excited about it!  When I told Dana Buck that I'd seen a hummingbird in the park, she said that she thought she'd seen one around the house the day before, so thought she'd hang a hummingbird feeder and see if she could attract them.  I can't wait to see what happens!

Frogs were everywhere I expected to see them except for one.  The swampy area near the orchard was alive with singing frogs and if you were very careful and quiet and slowly snuck up to the edge of the grass, you might be lucky enough to spot one.  Three red-legged frogs were hanging out at the Deep Sinks - small, medium, and large.  Two frogs were hanging out in the tree-well where the snake attack took place.  Two frogs were hanging out in the tree-well near the owl tree.  One frog was hanging out near the Hylebos Creek bridge near the Sitka spruce.  The only place I didn't spot frogs was from the old bridge on the Brooklake spur.  I used to always search that area for frogs because it looked like such a froggy place and never saw a single frog there.  Frogs suddenly appeared in that spot two years ago and it was possible to spot more than one frog there on just about every visit.  Then, last year, I only managed to spot two frogs there the entire frog season.  So far, this year, I haven't seen a single solitary frog.  None, nada, nil, zip, zero.  It's very sad.  I was hoping that the population would explode in that area.  Instead, it vanished.

When I get to the beginning of the boardwalk loop trail, I always go down the short side of the loop first, travel all of the way down to the Brooklake viewing platform, then return down the long side of the loop.  Today, I was part of the way down the long side of the loop when the air erupted in loud hooting.  HOOT, HOOT-HOOT-HOOT... HOOT, HOOT-HOOT-HOOT!  A barred owl was hooting as if his life depended on it and it was coming from the direction of the Brooklake spur.  I immediately turned around and headed back to Brooklake.  The hooting continued fracturing the air around me as I rushed down the boardwalk.  Soon, I was standing directly in front of where the sound was coming from, but I couldn't spot the owl.  There were too many trees between me and it.  In order to see it, I would have to leave the boardwalk and cut a trail through the false-lily-of-the-valley.  There was no way that I could do that without leaving a visible trail in my wake, which would remain visible from the boardwalk for the rest of the green season.  As much as I wanted to see the owl, I didn't want to cut a trail through the ground cover.  Any time you make a trail, the sight of that trail encourages other people to leave the boardwalk and follow it.  These trails scar the wetland for decades.  You might also accidentally run into things off the trail in the wetland that are unsafe and find yourself in a dangerous situation.  The boardwalk is there for a reason - to give visitors ready access to the wetland and yet keep them safe at the same time.  It keeps the wildlife in the wetland safe as well.  I remember once when I was trying to point out some amphibian eggs to a family who had a small boy with them.  Even though I was using a stick as a pointer, the family wasn't able to find what I was pointing at, so I stepped off of the boardwalk and got closer to the edge of the tree-well, so that I could show them where the eggs were.  Now, I'd been standing there for ten minutes before the family showed up, slowly and thoroughly examining every inch of the tree-well during that time, so I knew where every frog and egg were.  I knew where to step and where not to step and was very careful about it.  I no sooner stepped back up on the boardwalk, than the father stepped off of the boardwalk, with his young son in tow, and stood there watching as his son began stirring the cluster of amphibian eggs with his stick.  I yelped NO! loud enough to make your ears bleed, at which time the man grabbed his son, climbed back up on the boardwalk, and sheepishly said, "Boys, will be boys!"  I don't do that anymore.  I learned my lesson the hard way.

The oldest northwestern salamander eggs are almost invisible now.   This little frog is swimming where I saw the eggs the last time I visited the park.  You can just barely glimpse what looks like eggs above and to the right of the frog.  The pool adjacent to this one is still full of eggs, plus we spotted another big frog over there.  I met a family traveling down the boardwalk in the opposite direction that I was and stopped them to show them the eggs.  The boys were very good at spotting the eggs and frogs, but would have walked right past them without seeing them if I hadn't stopped them.  That's the first time that any of them had ever seen salamander eggs and they were quite excited by it.  One of the kids said that he could see tadpoles in this particular pool, but I couldn't see them.  That doesn't mean they weren't there.  His eyes are much younger than mine.

 I wish they'd been with me when I found this cute little salamander.  I didn't get close enough to examine this little fellow's toes.  My policy is to never, ever, interfere with the wildlife.  I want it to go about it's life as if I wasn't there, so have no desire to catch things or touch them.  I catch them digitally on my camera!  Without being able to examine it's toes, which seems to be one of the factor's that differentiates the Dunn's salamander from the long-toed salamander, I'm going to stick out my neck and call this a Dunn's.  Dunn's are brown-gray with a wide mustard-yellow stripe down their backs.  Long-toes salamanders are found more frequently and also have a yellow stripe, but the stripe of a long-toed salamander is broken and irregular and this stripe appears to be quite solid and regular to me.

Not far from the salamander, I spotted this tiny baby land snail.  At this stage of it's development, it's shell is a pale blue, almost opal color and so delicate that you can see through it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

There were a lot of adult brush rabbits nibbling away at the grass in the meadow, but I found this tiny baby bunny tucked beneath a bush over by the commemorative stone.  It's so small that, had I wanted to, I could have gently cupped it in the palm of one hand.  Look at how small it's ears are!  What a cutie!

 

 

 

 

 

 

This chestnut-sided chickadee appeared to be nesting in a hole that was way up in the very top of an old, dead, virtually limbless, tree.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Red-breasted sapsuckers also appear to be nesting.  I found this one over near Marlake.   I could hear another woodpecker pounding away at a tree way back in the forest where I couldn't see it. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This Canada goose was busily taking a bath in Marlake.  After it's bath, it settled down for a little snooze near the lake.  I spotted another Cananda goose at the edge of the lake, while a ring-necked duck and a pair of buffleheads swam back and forth across the middle of the lake.

 

 

 

 

 

 

While the geese were settling down for a nap, this mallard was busy noshing down on yummies in the same general area.  He was so busy eating lunch, that I couldn't coax him into posing for a photo.  He usually waddles out of the water when I arrive, begging for a handout.    Apparently, my handouts aren't up to snuff, as he preferred to chow down on whatever tasty-delight he was finding in the lake today.

 

 

 

 

 

Everyone knows what the beautiful male red-winged blackbirds look like with their polished ebony bodies and striking red and yellow wing bars, but it's much harder to spot the females.  Their mottled brown coloration allows them to blend in perfectly with the reeds.  Isn't she a beauty?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The first of many lily pads has poked it's head up through the surface of the lake.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Brand new horsetails are poking up through the forest floor.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Red-elderberry is suddenly in bloom.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And, so is the twinberry.  The bare brown winter wetland is suddenly full of greens, yellows, whites, pinks, purples, violets, and magentas!   It's exploding into life!  Sunday is supposed to be another lovely day.  After that the rain returns for the rest of the week.  Get out there and enjoy the wetland while you can!  It's so gorgeous right now!

 

 

 

 

 

 

Teri I. Lenfest

 

 

 

Another Type Of Wetland

Federal Way, WA is fortunate enough to be situated in an area containing many different types of land that can be labeled as wet.  I'd recently visited the West Hylebos Wetland and posted a blog, so when Adele Freeland invited me to take a walk along Redondo Beach with her instead of visitng the park, I jumped at the opportunity.  When most people think of Redondo Beach they think of California.  You can bet your sweet bippy that Adele and I weren't traveling all of the way to California in order to walk the beach.  Just a little bit further to the north of us, than the park is to the east of us, is our very own Redondo Beach.  I can clearly remember standing on the beach one day several years ago and watching this big, beautiful, sleek, black limousine pull up, spitting a handful of Californians out onto my beach.  Side-by-side, hands on hips, they stood beside their limousine surveying the scene before them.  "This is what Washingtonians call a beach," one of them intoned in a huffy voice, prompting the handful of disdainful Californians to climb back into their magic-mobile and depart the scene.  I've never forgotten that incident.  Those pompous people never so much as set one well-shod foot on our lovely beach before declaring it unfit to visit.  Shame on them!  Today was a perfectly lovely day and Adele and I had a perfectly marvelous time exploring our amazing beach.  This is what we found:

The tide was out when we visited.  It wasn't an extreme low-tide, but it did expose a lot of beach that spends most of it's time submerged beneath the waves.  Unlike Californian beaches, our beaches are rocky and often covered with driftwood, so the two of us soon realized that we had not worn the proper footwear to walk on all of those exposed rocks.  Ouch!  The water was more than beautiful enough to make up for the discomfort caused by the rocks though.  If you look closely, you can see the Loch Ness monster floating in the water just to the left of center.

 

 

 

Another monster floated not far away.  As a matter of fact, Adele remarked that she'd never seen as much driftwood floating in the water as we saw today.  It seemed to be floating everywhere.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I found a lonely boot trapped among the rocks.  In the past several years, a number of shoes have been found washed up on northwest beaches containing the remains of feet.  No one can explain these skeletal remains.  I was relieved to find that no foot occupied this lonesome boot, but it did make me wonder where it came from and what it was doing there.  Surely, if you lost a boot on a rocky beach like this, you'd notice that fact immediately and do something about it.  So...where did this boot come from and how did it get to Redondo Beach, WA?

 

 

 

 

The outgoing tide carved beautiful ridges in the exposed sand.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Pigeons were doing their mating dance on the beach.  The males puff up their necks until they're really big, then strut around, bobbing their heads up and down and cooing at the females, trying to attract their attention.  Other pigeons were roosting in the rafters beneath the dock.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Some of the piers supporting the dock did not inspire us with a whole lot of faith.  This one is clearly on the edge of collapse.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

House sparrows were also doing their mating dance in the finer gravel.  They're so funny!  They kind of sit down on the gravel, then fluff their feathers out until they're one big feathery puff-ball.  Apparently, the bigger you can puff yourself up, the more attractive you are.  Only a sparrow would know for sure.  Looks like this one is doing the best it can, but it doesn't seem to be attracting much attention.  The other sparrow in the picture doesn't appear to be overly excited by all the puffiness.

 

 

 

It was easy to find crabs simply by turning over rocks and looking for them, but they weren't very big.  The biggest were probably as wide as the length of my thumb, while the smallest were no larger than my thumbnail.  There's a big one just below the central rock in this photo.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Birds were in abundance though.  There were loons...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Surf scoters....

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Horned grebes...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Red-necked grebes...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Common goldeneyes....

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Buffleheads.....

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

and Mew Gulls.  There were also flocks of birds floating too far out to identify.  Eat your hearts out, Californians!    This place is pretty darned special!

 

 

 

 

 

Teri I. Lenfest

 

 

 

 

 

HAPPY EASTER FROM THE WEST HYLEBOS WETLAND

 

 

 

HAPPY EASTER FROM THE WEST HYLEBOS WETLAND!

 

 

 

 

 

 

Mother Nature was going out of her way to tease me today.  When I first entered the park, I thoroughly checked all of the false bleeding heart plants for blooms.  They always bloom just before Easter, but we've had such crazy weather this year that I wasn't sure they were going to make it.  When I looked at them last Monday, they didn't look anywhere near blooming.  When I checked them early this afternoon, there wasn't a bloom in sight.  I was really disappointed by their failure to appear on cue.  As I started back around the loop from the Brooklake viewing platform, I spotted a single bleeding heart bloom.  By the time I reached the area near the two big oak trees, I was spotting brand new bleeding heart blossoms all over the place.  They chose to make their appearance during the four and a half hours I spent roaming around the park.  These are brand new and quite fresh, so they haven't gained their true shape and color yet, but will in the next few days.  The upper half of the blossoms will take on a very distinct heart shape, while the little round part at the bottom will turn dark purple, looking much like a single drop of blood suspended from the tip of the heart.  Christian folk-lore believes that this signifies the blood lost by Christ on his way to crucifixion.  Since it always blooms at Easter, this symbolism isn't lost on me.  False bleeding heart isn't the only plant that blooms in the park around Easter time and holds meaning for Christians. 

Trilliums are another.  Dash Point State Park has trilliums by the hundreds, but they're few and far between in the West Hylebos Wetland.  I generally find them growing on either side of the boardwalk trail near the Brooklake spur at this time of the year, so was intently searching for them today.  I got well past the point where I usually spot them and was intently checking the forest floor to my right, feeling really disappointed not to have spotted any.  Giving up, I turned around and, there they were......a great big clump of them, in full bloom and looking very classy in the sunshine.  They were fresh and beautiful and all dressed up in their Easter best.  Trilliums hold importance for Christians because  their blossoms form three lobes, symbolizing the  Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, or The Trinity.  Some of them turn purplish as they age, once again symbolizing the scourging of Christ on his way to the crucifixion.

 

Brand new fiddlehead ferns are poking their way up through the forest floor.  Some look like this.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

While others look like this.  Two different kinds of ferns creating two distinctly different shapes.

 

 

 

 

 

 

What kind of wildlife did I spot in the wetland today?  Quite a few actually, despite the fact that sunshine and warmer weather really attracted visitors to the park, most of whom were not even trying to move slowly, or carefully, or look around.  For the most part, adults strolled quickly around the boardwalk and, from my observation, looked neither left nor right as they walked.  Children, on the other hand, mostly ran, jumped, or hopped down the boardwalk, being as noisy as possible.  One child insisted upon leaving the boardwalk and cutting his own way through the wetland, despite the fact that both his mother and I demanded that he return to the boardwalk and behave himself.  He made a point of ignorning both of us.  And, of course, I spotted two couples walking their dogs down the boardwalk, despite the fact that the boardwalk is posted "NO DOGS ALLOWED".  I informed both couples that dogs weren't allowed on the boardwalk.  One couple gave me the "I am so offended by your presence" glare and patently ignored me.  Some people grow larger, but never quite grow up, if you know what I mean.  The other couple said that they hadn't seen the sign, then promptly took their dog back to the meadow and walked her around the trail behind Marlake instead.  On days like today, it's very difficult to spot wildlife.  Speedy, noisy people tend to scare them off.  This is understandable.  The wetland is full of predators.  Everything in the wetland eats everything else in the wetland.  He who lives longest is he who responds appropriately to the approach of predators, either by fleeing or hiding, and humans are considered to be predators.

So, what did I see amid all of the motion and racket?  Well, first of all, I saw some beautiful little yellow warblers, like the one in the photo above, flitting around in the tops of the trees.  I saw two male bald eagles circling in the sky, traveling from west to east.  About ten minutes later, I saw a single male bald eagle flying east to west.  Their white heads and tails caught the sunshine and stood out like headlights in the sky.  They were beautiful.  I saw seven Canada geese at Marlake, in addition to a mated pair of hooded mergansers, a mated pair of buffleheads, a lone ring-necked duck, three red-winged blackbirds (two males and one female), and a spotted towhee.

 

 

The violet-green swallows are back.  Of course, the resident American robins, dark-eyed juncos, song sparrows, and black-capped chickadees were in abundance.  I could hear a woodpecker pecking away somewhere in the wetland, but couldn't spot him.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The clumps of amphibian eggs that I think look like brains are still sitting deep in the water of Marlake.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And there are a few tiny clumps of amphibian eggs floating or, or near, the surface.  But most of the eggs are gone now.  If you're patient, and you look really hard, and the light is just right, you can spot teeny-tiny tadpoles swimming among the water grasses on the bottom of the lake.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The eggs on the log-boom have gone missing again.  You can just barely make out the slightest bit of goo left on top of the log where the eggs used to be.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I thought that the sunlight would draw out the snakes.  After all, they've been snoozing all winter and must be really hungry by now, so you'd think that they'd be out warming up in the sun so  they can hunt for food.  This is the only snake I spotted though.  He was moving like greased lightning, so was plenty warm.

 

 

 

 

 

As I crossed the orchard, I could hear the frogs singing like crazy back in that wet patch between the orchard and the trail.  They were so loud that it was amazing.  My first thought was, "Oh, my gosh, I wish I could photograph that sound!"  I wanted to share it with you so badly; but, of course, you can't photograph sound.  I found a large red-legged frog at the Deep Sinks.

 

 

 

 

 

 

And another much smaller one in the water nearby.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Although my favorite tree-well is stuffed full of a variety of amphibian eggs, I still haven't seen so much as a single frog there.  I wonder where they are?

 

 

 

 

 

 

Some of the old salamander eggs are still hanging around, although looking a bit undesirable at this stage of their growth.  The other, smaller, glob is long gone.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

But, the pool adjacent to the one with the old eggs is full to overflowing with salamander eggs.  There are big globs of salamander eggs nearly everywhere you look!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And the moss-covered log just above that spot is liberally covered with eggs of another kind.  There are so many eggs, that it doesn't matter whether you look down in the water, or up on the log, you can't help but see eggs.  They're everywhere!  There are hundreds of them!  But, you do, of course, have to actually stop... and look.

 

 

 

 

Twinberries are getting ready to blossom.  Soon these will open into pretty yellow trumpet-shaped flowers, that will later turn into deep purple berries.

I also spotted some tiny bright blue butterflies flitting through the new growth and some big fat black and yellow bumbly-bees feasting on salmonberry blossoms.  Wasps were busy checking out the wooden railings of the boardwalk.  I still think they're collecting wood to build nests, but don't know how to prove that.  It was such a beautiful day to wander around in the park.  The sun was shining and the temperature rose all of the way up to 54 degrees F., although the wind picked-up in the afternoon and it got a bit gusty as the day went on.  You couldn't ask for a better Easter weekend than this!  I hope you get a chance to get outside and enjoy it!  Why not have a picnic in the park?

 

 

 

Frogs, eggs, birds, and other things.

I got home from the pool this morning and it looked like it was going to be a pretty nice day.  I hadn't expected that, as the weather hasn't been very good in the past several days.   I didn't know whether to trust what I was seeing or not.  The weather lately could only be described as variable at best.  I checked the weather report on my iphone and it indicated that the weather would be dry, but overcast, with nothing but rain in the forecast for the following four days.  Sounded like I needed to make a run today or forget about it for the rest of the week, so off to the park I went.  That was a good decision on my part.  Although we quickly lost our beautiful bright blue sky, the temperature actually reached a high of 62 degrees F., the highest temperature for us so far this year.  It's supposed to go back down to a high of 48 degrees F. tomorrow and remain there for the next four days.  I'll take one day of warmth and count myself lucky.  How about you?

While I was walking around the park, I ran into a couple of visitors who stopped me and asked me whether I'd seen any life in the park while I was there.  According to them, all they'd seen were insects.  Yes, I replied, I have seen wildlife in the park...and immediately took them over to a nearby tree-well and showed them some amphibian eggs in the water.  They were delighted by the eggs, but didn't stick around to find out what else I'd seen.  Let's take a little tour and see what I found.

First of all, I noticed that the red-huckleberry was leafing out nicely.  I hadn't noticed any huckleberry leaves the last time I was in the park, so was delighted to find them today.  Huckleberry leaves mean huckleberries to eat later in the year and I love the sweet-tart pop of wild huckleberries in my mouth.  I can't wait!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Next, I found the very first banana slug of the year.  Soon, they'll be all over the park, but this is the first one I've seen since winter set in.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Next, I found new amphibian eggs on the log-boom at Marlake.  First we had eggs on top of the log, then the eggs got eaten and the log was practically licked clean, and now we have more eggs on top of the same log.  If you look closely you'll notice that even though the eggs are all laid in the same vicinity on the log, they don't appear to be the same.  Some of the eggs are laid in long, milky, strings, while others are laid in a round glob that's crystal clear.  Is this the same species or two different species?  And, what species is it?

 

 

 

Three Canada geese were searching for food in the grass next to the lake, while a male mallard was searching for food in the shallows edging the lake.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A lone female hooded-merganser was swimming around in the lake all by herself.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

While three female buffleheads swam around in the lake, two together and one by herself.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A male and female red-winged blackbird were singing in the reeds on the far side of Marlake, while a great many dark-eyed juncos and American robins hunted for worms in the grass.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This stalwart robin was determined to bring her worm home.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Most of the amphibian eggs in Marlake have either sunk very low in the water or vanished entirely, but some are glowing as if they had electric lightbulbs inside.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The pink rododendrons are beginning to bloom along one edge of the lake, while new green leaves of yellow pond iris are poking up like swords through the water.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The area in between the orchard and the two big oak trees is full of red-legged frogs.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And, the trees in that area were popping with black-capped chickadees.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Some little bird was flying in and out of this nest hole in a nearby tree.  It was moving so fast that I couldn't tell what it was.  It may have been a chickadee, as a chickadee nested in an identical hole on the opposite side of the trail last year, but it also may have been something else.  

 

 

 

 

 

 

I spotted this gorgeous shiny black beetle crawling down the side of the boardwalk handrail in one place...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

this beautiful wasp was very interested in the handrail in yet another place.  Can you see all of the yellow pollen that's adhering to it's body?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A Doublas squirrel was very busy searching for food along the boardwalk trail where the loop begins.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The carpet of false lily-of-the-valley is much thicker than it was the last time I visited the park.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I couldn't find the old northwestern salamander eggs.  They've probably sunken way beneath the surface of the water again and are hidden by that frond of water-parsley or else they've hatched and don't exist any more.  The newest batch of salamander eggs looks very different than it did last week.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And, something has laid eggs on top of a moss-covered branch nearby.  These remind me of the eggs that were laid on the log-boom.  They're not in the water, but on top of a branch, fully exposed to predators.

 

 

 

 

 

I think this is a yellow-rumped warbler, but I'm not sure.  It was singing it's heart out, in true warbler fashion, not far from the salamander eggs.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I saw two red-legged frogs at the Deep Sinks.  This one.....

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

and this one.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Of course, I forgive you if you walked right by and didn't see them.  The photos I posted above were taken through the zoom lens on my camera.  The picture to the left is what I actually saw with my naked eye.  Can you find those two frogs in this photo?  One is just below the log on the right-hand side.  The other is on the log near the top.  I see them because I stop and spend a lot of time carefully examining every single inch of an area where I suspect frogs might be.  They're very small and very well camouflaged.

 

 

 

Someone has been salting the area with peanuts.  Sometimes just sitting out in the open....

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

and, sometimes stuffed into cracks and crevices.  I'm sure the squirrels appreciate your thoughtfulness.  What a clever idea!

 

 

 

 

 

 

If you go slowly, take time, look around, and listen....you can find all kinds of life in the wetland.

 

 

 

Teri I. Lenfest