Snowy/not snowy

 -7°C. That's tonight's temperature. But in the afternoon, all this week, the sun has been shining, and the thermometer soars to above 0° for a few hours. So the snow on trees and shrubs has melted, but on the ground, it's still frozen hard.

I drove west, into the interior of the island, to see what was happening.

Argonaut Road. A logging road, well travelled, wide and well maintained, here heading more or less south. Two logging trucks passed me, one piled high with timber, the second empty, heading back into the hills for another load. In the distance, the sharp peak may be Alexandra Peak, 1982m. Snowy spots on the lower flanks of the mountains are logged-off areas. The snow on the trees is gone.

Echo Lake. It's frozen hard; I walked on it, but those aren't my footsteps. Near the far shore, on the right, a black spot on the ice is a couple of people out for an icy walk.

Echo Lake from under the trees on the shore. None of the vegetation, salal mainly, retains any snow.

But under the salal, the snow remains. This is a small trail between campsites; the tracks seem to be animal prints; I could see no shoe marks.

Going on to Upper Campbell Lake. Here, the water isn't frozen. Echo Lake is tiny, a mere 2 sq. kilometres in area; UCL covers 30 sq. km., and is constantly in motion, feeding the rambunctious Campbell River. The snow on land, however, is mostly ice where people have walked.

For comparison, this is just outside of city limits, a week ago. It was still snowing, and the trees were laden. I was walking back from a bridge where I had been looking for animal tracks, and instead snapped my snowy car.

Some huge icicles, next.

A Skywatch post. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 -7°C. La temperatura en esta noche. Pero en la tarde, toda esta semana, ha salido el sol y el termómetro marca arriba de 0° por unas cuantas horas. Así que la nieve que cayó en árboles y arbustos se ha derretido, aunque en el suelo la nieve persiste e incluso se ha cubierto de una capa fuerte de hielo.

Me dirigí hacia el oeste, hacia el centro de la isla, para ver que pasaba.

1. Via Argonaut. Un camino de madereros, muy transitado, amplio y mantenido, en este tramo dirigido más o menos hacia el sur. Dos camiones madereros me pasaron, uno apilado de troncos, el segundo vacío, en camino hacia la montaña para recoger otra carga. El pico en la distancia puede ser, tal vez, el Pico de Alexandra, con 1982 metros de altura. En las laderas de los cerros, las manchas blancas, nevadas, son sitios donde ya talaron los árboles. Donde hay árboles, no se ve la nieve.
2. El lago Echo. Está congelado, y el hielo es grueso y sólido. Yo lo probé, caminando un poco en el hielo, pero las huellas que aquí se ven no son mias. Cerca del la orilla opuesta, en el lado derecho, un punto negro en el hielo es una pareja de personas.
3. El mismo lago, desde la sombra de los árboles en la orilla. Ninguna de las plantas, por la mayor parte salal, Guaultheria shallon, retiene nada de la nieve.
4. Pero debajo del salal, la nieve persiste. Este es un senderito que une dos sitios para acampar. Las huellas parecen ser de animales; no vi nada de huellas de zapatos.
5. Siguiendo hasta el lago Upper Campbell. Aquí no se ha congelado el agua. El lago Echo es muy chico, apenas cubre 2 kilómetros cuadrados. En cambio, el Lago Upper Campbell, se extiende sobre 30 kilómetros cuadrados, y está en movimiento continuo, ya que desde aquí se origina el rio Campbell, un rio bastante activo. En la tierra, sin embargo, la nieve persiste, volviéndose hielo donde la ha pisado la gente.
6. Para comparar: esto fue hace una semana, un poco afuera de los límites de la ciudad. Todavía nevaba, y los árboles estaban cubiertos de nieve. Yo regresaba, aquí, de un puente donde había estado buscando huellas de animales; no vi nada en claro, y me encontenté sacando la foto de mi cochecito medio cubierto de nieve.

Próximo post: unos carámbanos grandes.

Too good to waste

It was such a beautiful day, too good to waste. Coming home from running errands, I dashed inside, grabbed the camera and headed for the hills. Too much of a hurry. I found, too late, that I'd grabbed the wrong camera, one I'd been trying to repair. Luckily, I still had the pocket camera.

When I was a kid on the far side of this island, I liked to sit outside in the stern of our little boat on trips to Tahsis so I could watch the evergreen forests slide by, so dark and secret, so alien, home to cougars and deer, not us. In some spots, high above the water, the solid bones of the mountains rose to the surface; pure rock, without even cracks for the evergreens to force open with their roots. Not bare rock, though. In this wet corner of the rain forests, the rock bore, bears still, a thick cushion of moss.

Once I climbed the hill behind our house. Through a trackless belt of hemlock and Douglas-fir, breaking at the foot of a cliff into dense salal shrubs, then, as the rock repelled even the persistent roots of the salal, the golden moss burst into sunlight. I climbed to the edge of the forest above, and sat on the moss. From there, I was alone in the world; our settlement, a few houses on the shore, was hidden. The sun warmed the moss, and me.

I didn't stay long; we kids had been warned to stay out of the bush after 5, even on long summer days; the evening and night belonged to the cougars.

Now, here on the east coast of the island, on this bright afternoon, I visited a small patch of mossy rock on a steep hillside, pocket camera in hand.

From halfway down the hill. I didn't sit on the moss this time; it was soaking wet.

Staring into the sun. Glints off the water of Mirror Lake. The blue water is Echo Lake. The road below is a logging road.

Nearing the bottom. Dried, winter-bare branches of Scotch broom and oceanspray bush.

The broom is a pestiferous invasive species; I hate to see it settle in on this hillside. But it makes a nice lacey frill on the steep part of the hill, and in summer, when the moss is dry and brown, the broom paints the hillside in bright yellow.

Random shot as I walked. Somehow, this "speaks" to me.

Are those pussywillows at the bottom of the hill? I think they are!

I didn't go down to the road beneath, this trip, because where the climb gets really steep, the moss was soggy and very slippery. Leave that to summer days.

Lichens and moss from this spot, tomorrow.

(The links above ("Tahsis" and "high above the water" take you to a page with photos of the Tahsis hills.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Era un dia hermoso, no se podría desperdiciar. Regresando a casa después de hacer unos mandados. corrí a recoger la cámara y salí a prisa para visitar un sitio favorito en el bosque. Me apuré demasiado; descubrí al llegar a mi objetivo que traía la cámara vieja, que había estado tratando de componer. Por suerte, también traía mi camarita de bolsillo.

Cuando era niña, en la costa opuesta de esta isla, me gustaba sentarme afuera en la popa de nuestro barquito cuando íbamos al pueblo de Tahsis. Me gustaba ver como se deslizaban los bosques perennes, tan oscuros, tan secretos; el territorio de pumas y venados, allí nosotros éramos los invasores. En algunos sitios, muy por arriba del agua, el esqueleto de las montañas se descubría; roca pura, sin ni siquiera grietas que los abetos podrían abrir con sus raices fuertes. No era roca desnuda, en este rincón del bosque pluvial; aquí la roca llevaba un grueso cojín de musgos.

Una vez subí la montaña atrás de nuestra casa. Pasé por un bosque sin sendero alguno, un bosque de árboles perennes, los abetos de Douglas y Hemlock, abriéndose al pie de un despeñadero en un matorral denso de los arbustos Gaultheria shallon, y pasado este, llegué a donde el musgo dorado se bañaba por el sol. Subí hasta el borde del bosque superior, y allí me senté en el cojín del musgo. Desde allí me parecía que estaba yo sola en el mundo; nuestras pocas casas al borde del agua estaban escondidas tras los abetos. El sol nos calentaba; al musgo y a mí.

No me quedé mucho rato; nos habían inculcado bien que teníamos que estar fuera del bosque a las cinco de la tarde, aun en esos dias largos de verano; el atardecer y la noche eran propiedad de las pumas.

Ahora, aquí en esta costa del este de la isla, en esta tarde luminosa, visité unas rocas cubiertas de musgo en un acantilado, con la cámara de bolsillo en la mano.

Fotos:

1. Vista desde la mitad de la bajada. No me senté en el musgo esta vez, pues estaba bien empapado.
2. Mirando directamente hacia el sol. La luz brilla en el agua del lago Mirror (espejo). Lo azul es el lago Echo. El camino allá abajo es un camino de madereros.
3. Cerca de este camino, con ramas secas de retama negra y de "espray de oceano", Holodiscus discolor. La retama negra es una planta nociva e invasiva; no me gusta ver como empieza a cubrir este sitio. Pero en invierno hace un encaje en el borde de la roca, y en verano, cuando el musgo está seco y color de café, llena el espacio de un amarillo brillante.
4. Foto al azahar mientras caminaba. Por alguna razón esta vista me hace sentirme en casa.
5. Sauces de gatito, o sea los botones peludos del sauce. Lo más distante que llegaba a operar la cámera; no bajé hasta el camino porque el último tramo del declive estaba muy empinado y el musgo empapado estaba resbaloso.

Mañana, habrá líquenes y musgos de este sitio.

(Los dos enlaces arriba te llevan a una página con fotos desde los cerros alrededor de Tahsis.)

Cloudy sky

Afternoon clouds over Echo Lake.

With an intriguing whirlpool cloud.

A Skywatch post.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Nubes sobre el lago Echo. Este es un post de Skywatch; haz clic para ver cielos alrededor del mundo.

Pretty, thorny, problematic

Three years ago, on the shore of Echo Lake, I found a gorse bush. It was not in flower; this was in February, but the shrub was easily identified; it looked like and had the texture of Scotch broom, but all the leaves were stiff, sharp thorns. I stopped by to check on it last week. And it's in full flower.

Common gorse, Ulex europaeus

Flowers and spines

This gorse is a European species, imported as an ornamental (because, well, it is pretty and would make a sturdy hedge) but it has gone wild and is now becoming invasive like its relative, Scotch broom. It is hardy, drought-, heat- and frost-tolerant (down to -20°C), and long-lived; a single plant can live up to 45 years, producing up to 18,000 seeds. And the seeds are viable even after 30 years in the soil.

Gorse is designated as a Provincial Noxious Weed by the BC Weed Control Act, as well as a Management species by the BC Provincial Priority Invasive Species List. (Invasive Species Council of BC)

Among the reasons this shrub is of concern is that it is flammable; in dry areas, or in the recent hot summers in what used to be wet areas, it is a hazard. And once burned, it can regenerate from the burned roots; even scorched seeds can sprout. In this way, it can replace our native fireweed, which provides cover for tree seedlings. Gorse has the opposite effect, suppressing conifer seedling growth. (Fraser Valley Invasive Species Society)

From February of 2020 to now, the small patch of gorse on the shore of Echo Lake has doubled in area. Worrisome. I looked up ways to eliminate it; not an easy task. Cut down, it re-sprouts from the roots. It must be dug up, root and all. Removed plants will spread seeds and sprout from pieces of root; it is not destroyed in the compost.

The end of Echo Lake, with some of the gorse at water's edge, on the right.

The guide book says the flowers smell of coconut or bruised peaches. I didn't notice. I'll have to go back and do a sniff test.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hace tres años descubrí un arbusto al borde del lago Echo, aulaga, parecida a la retama de escoba, pero más agresiva, con espinas largas y puntiagudas. No estaba en flor; esto era en febrero, pero era fácil de identificar por las espinas fuertes que crecían en vez de hojas. Pasé a ver como seguía la semana pasada. Ahora está cubierta de flores.

Fotos: la planta, Ulex europaeus.

Esta planta es una especie importada desde Europa, donde sirve de planta de jardín o de cerca viva; aquí se ha vuelto invasiva. Es una plant robusta, que tolera sequías, el calor, y el frio hasta 20° bajo cero. Y puede vivir hasta 45 años, durante los cuales produce unas 18.000 semillas; éstas pueden brotar aun después de 30 años.

La aulaga se designa como una maleza perniciosa en el Acta de Control de Malezas de BC, tanto como una especie sujeta a control por la Lista de Especies Invasivas de Importancia de la Provincia de BC. (Invasive Species Council of BC)

Entre las razones por las cuales este arbusto se considera un problema es que es altamente inflamable; en lugares secos, o en estos años recientes, calurosos y secos, viene a ser un peligro. Y quemado, puede volver a brotar desde las raices quemadas; aun las semillas tostadas pueden volver a la vida. De esta manera puede llegar a sustituir a nuestro epilobio, planta nativa que ayuda a proteger a los arbolitos coníferos recién brotados después de un incendio forestal. Con la diferencia de que este arbusto invasivo detiene el crecimiento de los coníferos jóvenes.

Desde febrero de 2020 hasta ahora, el grupo de plantas en el borde del lago ha crecido hasta cubrir el doble de espacio. Esto me preocupa. Busqué en el internet maneras de eliminar la planta. No es tan fácil. Cortada, vuelve a brotar desde las raices. Hay de excavar toda la raiz. La planta ya extraída puede diseminar semillas y pedacitos de raiz, de donde puede dar orígen a plantas nuevas. Y no se puede añadir nada de la planta al compostaje; allí también puede volver a crecer.

Foto: el extremo del lago Echo, con unas ramas de este arbusto invasivo al lado derecho.

Dice mi libro guía que las flores huelen a coco, o tal vez a durazno machucado. No lo noté; tendré que volver.

Lake, lower down

 What a difference a few metres make! I stopped at Echo Lake on my way to Snakehead Lake. It was snowing, slowly, at Echo Lake; the snow on the ground was less than an inch deep. At Snakehead a few minutes later, the untouched snow covered my shoes.

Snakehead Lake is at 283 metres above sea level. Echo Lake, a mere 6 km. away as the crow flies, is just above the 200 metre line.

On my way home, three quarters of an hour later, it was raining at Echo Lake; the snow on the ground had melted.

The east end of Echo Lake.

West end, with a distant pair of waterfowl. And some snow on the shrubs.

Zooming in from water's edge. The birds are buffleheads.

And these, at Snakehead Lake, I think are scaups. I could be wrong.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

¡Que diferencia hacen unos cuantos metros! En camino al lago Snakehead, me detuve en el lago Echo. Estaba nevando un poco en este lago pero había apenas un centímetro de nieve en el suelo. En el lago Snakehead, en cambio, unos minutos más tarde, la nieve, donde nadie la había pisoteado, me cubría los zapatos.

El lago Snakehead está a 283 m. de elevación; el Echo, a una distancia (a vuelo de pájaro) de unos 6 km., apenas pasa la linea de 200 metros.

Camino a casa, tres cuartos de hora más tarde, estaba lloviendo en el lago Echo; la nieve ya se estaba derritiendo.

Fotos:

1. El extremo oriente del lago Echo.
2. El otro extremo del mismo, con una pareja de pájaros acuáticos.
3. Desde el borde del agua, se ve que la pareja son porrones coronados,Bucephala albeola.
4. Estos, en el lago Snakehead, creo que son los patos buceadores Aythya sp. 

What keeps us green

 A rainy afternoon.

Side road near Upper Campbell Lake dam. With Scotch broom. (Zoom in; you'll see raindrops.)

And on the edge of the rain clouds, muted rainy day colours.

Echo Lake, 2:30 PM.

A Skywatch post.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Una tarde lluviosa.

Primera foto; lluvia cae en un camino que baja de la carretera hacia la presa en Upper Campbell Lake. Con la invasora retama negra.

Segunda foto; nubes traen agua, que no ha llegado todavía. Con los colores apagados de estos dias de lluvia. Es el lago Echo, a media tarde.

Un post para Skywatch; haz clic para encontrar cielos alrededor del mundo.

Spiky

The name was familiar, but the plant was new to me.

On the shore of Echo Lake, I found several large, spiky shrubs that looked like Scotch broom gone grumpy, with strong, nasty-looking spines.

Gorse, Ulex europaeus

I didn't remember seeing it in my guide, mainly because the photo there is of a huge bush in flower, but as soon as I saw the name, I remembered it.

Gorse, an introduced, becoming invasive, species.

This weedy species is viciously spiny, and it can form impenetrable thickets. It is a European species still expanding its range within our region. (Plants of Coastal BC)

I looked for it on E-Flora; the only BC specimens reported are on Vancouver Island, in Victoria, and near the Oyster River, just south of here.

A couple of things make it worrisome: first, it's flammable, and collects its own deadwood, making a ready-set bonfire. It has been used as fuel. Not good in our woods in these drying years.

After a fire, the plant regenerates itself, both from the fire-burst seed pods, and also sprouting from burnt-off stumps, which puts it into competition with our native fire-weed.

But the flowers are edible. They say.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

No conocía la planta, pero sabía su nombre. Encontré una planta fuerte con espinas al borde del lago Echo, un arbusto parecido a la retama de escoba, pero más agresivo, con espinas largas y puntiagudas. Lo encontré más tarde en mi guía; es aulaga, una planta invasiva, importada desde Europa.

En el sitio web de E-Flora, las únicas plantas reportadas están aquí en la isla, en Victoria, y cerca del rio Oyster, un poco al sur de aquí en Campbell River. 

Nos preocupan un par de datos: aparte de ser agresivo, es sumamente inflamable. Las ramas espinosas detienen las ramas viejas, muertas y secas, formando un base para una fogata. Se ha usado, en Europa, como combustible para hornos.

Eso no se requiere en nuestros bosques, ya en peligro en estos años secos.

Y además, después de un incendio, la planta se regenera, tanto desde las semillas recién liberadas por el calor, como desde los tallos quemados, que brotan de nuevo. En esto pueden ocupar el espacio normalmente habitado por nuestro epilobio, que prepara la tierra para los nuevos retoños de los árboles de hojas perennes.

Pero dicen que las flores se pueden comer. Eso dicen.

Three lakes

They say ("they" being someone, somewhere, I can't remember where); they say that looking at water calms us down, invigorates us, makes life worth living. I think "they" are right.

Here are three water views, as an antidote to the daily news.

Echo Lake

Roberts Lake

Upper Campbell Lake, from atop the dam.

The three lakes

A Skywatch post

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dicen (quien sabe quien dice, pues no me acuerdo, pero sí se dice) que la vista al agua nos relaja, nos da fuerzas, nos alegra la vida. Creo que tienen razón.

Aquí, pues, hay tres lagos, como antídoto a las noticias diarias.

Icy lakes

The snow was gone here in Campbell River. I drove inland, crossing the island to see what it was like away from the warmth of the coastal waters. The snow still lay deep and frozen hard on the ground. Small ponds were frozen over; running water, in the ditches and creeks was still liquid.

And the lakes were  half and half.

Echo Lake. Snow on ice, melting at the edges under a warm sun.

Snakehead Lake.

I could walk on top of the frozen snow, but I don't think I'd try walking on that ice. It looks thin, somehow.

And it snowed again last night, covering my primulas again. Will winter never end? This time last year, I had forsythia blooming by my window, and the parks were bright with crocuses and snowdrops.

Orange mosscaps and brown boletes

Moss is everywhere in our coastal rain forests. It forms thick cushions under the evergreens, buries rotting logs, climbs the trees and dangles from overhead. Out in the open, it carpets rock outcrops; there, in summer when the rains fail for a while, it turns grey-green, dry and crisp; it makes a crunchy sound when you walk on it. The rain comes back, and overnight, the moss is soft and bright. It holds the water like a sponge, providing a cozy home for moisture-loving mushrooms, slugs, and sprouting ferns and salal.

On one of these rock outcrops, I found Orange Moss Agaric mushrooms (aka Orange Mosscap).

Tiny mushrooms. The largest is about 1 cm. across the cap.

These mushrooms grow around the world, but always in association with moss. Seemingly identical mushrooms found on wood turn out to be a different species.

A large, pale beige mushroom, growing under salal at Echo Lake. With slug nibbles.

A bolete, after a hearty slug meal.

There are hundreds of bolete species. Some are edible and quite good. I used to harvest them in the Bella Coola area; added to a meat dish, they disintegrated to make a smooth, nutty gravy.*

Instead of gills, the boletes have tubes that end in small pores on the underside of the cap; it looks like a fine plastic foam, soft to the touch, and usually damp. Inside, I often find small, white worms beating the slugs to the delicious flesh. (I never cooked the wormy ones.)

The underside of the boletus above, greatly magnified. To the naked eye, it was just foam.

The large mushrooms were on the shore of Echo Lake. The mosscaps were a bit further down the highway, on a rocky hillside.

*Want to try boletes? Here's a useful page on preparing them for cooking. And here's a recipe.**

**Caution: some boletes are poisonous. Be sure you know what you're collecting before you try them. Never eat one with red pores. And it is rumoured that the Orange Mosscaps are mildly hallucinogenic.

The competition. And a banana slug recipe

I went looking for mushrooms and found slugs looking for dinner. Chef's special: mushrooms on the stalk, with fresh rain dressing.

Black slug, Arion ater.

Everywhere I went yesterday, there were black slugs, all dressed in blue-black finery, partying in the wet moss and mud.

If you encounter one and are feeling bold, poke it gently. It will tighten into a ball and start wobbling side to side, very slowly. It is one of nature's most inexplicable and strangely mesmerizing performances, worth watching if you have a lot of time to kill. (E-fauna, article by Hugh Griffith)

I didn't know that, or I'd have been poking slugs until dark. Next time.

Banana slug, Ariolimax columbianus. Our native slug.

This was a small specimen, in a hurry to leave while I tromped around him, trying to find firm footing on a wet slope. I like the striped border of his foot.

Another banana slug, in a spotted coat, eating a mushroom.

Banana slugs, like the bananas they're named for, can be any colour from green to yellow to spotty brown to black. They are the most commonly met slugs in this area, and can grow up to 25 cm (10 inches) long, like the big cooking bananas (plantains) in the produce section at the store.  And yes, you can cook and eat a banana slug.

I had the slugs with ketchup and they were oh-so-good. I was very surprised. The texture was like a cross between mushrooms and calamari. It was hard to pick out a specific “slug” flavor; they tasted deep-fried, oily, and subtle. (From a recipe for Deep Fried Banana Slugs.)

Interesting, but I think I'll stick to the plant variety.

The slugs were eating mushrooms at Echo Lake.

Mushrooms tomorrow, some not even chewed yet!