February 14, 2022
Nature notes
Fifty-some years ago I spent one of the most memorable summers of my youth as a camp counselor on Lopez Island. I forget now for sure which year this was, but I imagine it was in 1964, between my high school graduation and my first year in college. For those familiar with Lopez, the camp was on Sperry Peninsula at the southeast corner of the island. At the time it was run as Henderson Camps and later rebranded as Camp Nor’Wester when the Hendersons retired in 1966 after operating the camp for over 30 years. Camp Nor’Wester still exists, but was relocated to Johns Island after Paul Allen purchased the peninsula in 1996.
I remember Henderson Camp as a remarkable place. It was heavily influenced by and associated with Native American culture. We slept in teepees lined up along the bay, and one of my most treasured memories from that period of my life was of lying on my cot inside the teepee with the sides rolled up, watching great blue herons wading in the bay.
Another favored memory was dining in the great wooden lodge, completely open to the outdoors with a spectacular view of the bay. As I remember it, we ate outdoors like this every evening and night all summer long, regardless of weather conditions. There was a lot of tradition and ritual with meals, including Nature Notes. Prior to the evening meal Mrs. Henderson (Rabbit) would ask for volunteers to relate any observations from the natural world they had from the day.
At the end of the day, I have a few Nature Notes to share, some of which are from earlier in this tour - items I forgot to include at the time and didn’t have photographs of; and some are from the last few days.
A dead lizard
About two weeks ago on our ride out Bitterwater Valley we were squatted on the shoulder of the road eating lunch when I looked down and was saddened to see the carcass of a tiny lizard in the dust next to my feet. I reached down to pick it up, thinking I’d examine it and then take a photo of it for Bill to identify. Unexpectedly it jumped and ran under the
nearest rock, too quickly for me to pull out the camera and snap it.
The Eagle has landed, part one
Last week, on her final outing before her nasal surgery Rachael rode along the Willamette down to Oregon City and back. Somewhere south of Milwaukee she looked up and saw a bald eagle descend from the sky to a riverside tree. The branch snapped under the weight and momentum of the large bird and fell to the ground. The eagle flew off.
The Eagle has landed, part two
Who knows? Maybe the eagles out on Sauvie Island are wiser or the trees are healthier, but the one I saw biking along Reeder Road was securely perched on a stout branch directly above the road. And for a nice change this one didn’t mind having someone milling around below angling for a better shot. The explanation for his patience may have come when a second large brownish bird flew off from the underbrush beneath the tree. I’m not sure but it was likely an immature eagle, and the adult was on babysitting duty.
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Brookside Wetland
Sunday appeared to be the last of the warm, clear sunny days we’ve been experiencing - a nature note in itself, btw: how rare is it to have back-to-back 70 degree sunny days in early February in Portland, and on the weekend much less? We’ve seen snow crowning some of the low-lying ridges so I decided to try riding east to Powell Butte for the broad view available from its summit. The last time I’ve been out here was nearly two years ago, just days before the Covid crisis crashed into Portland and turned the world upside down.
By far the best access route to Powell Butte is by biking east toward Gresham along the Johnson Creek bike path, a route Rachael and I rode often for years until the uncontrolled proliferation of homeless camps made safety a concern, not to mention the unattractive aesthetic considerations. Recent reports are discouraging but it’s been awhile since I’ve tested it out so I decided to see for myself.
The ride was quite pleasant, the trail surprisingly clean and fairly busy today with bikers and walkers - it had an almost normal look, and I was imagining taking a bike ride out to Gresham for breakfast someday soon. Until I crossed 82nd and suddenly the recreational cyclists and walkers were replaced by groups of idlers wandering the path, piles of trash, broken glass, sodden mattresses, bicycle frames.
Powell Butte is out then. I make it as far as the Foster Road crossing before deciding to turn back. First though I spin down the short bike path that branches through the Foster Floodplain Natural Area on the shortcut to Pleasant Valley. It’s a pretty little area, a small City of Portland project that began a decade ago in the good old days when Portland was still The City That Works to restore this flood-prone stretch of Johnson Creek as a wetland and nature preserve. It’s reputed to have become a haven for a variety of wildlife, and today I find a beautiful pair of hooded mergansers drifting across its small pond.
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A cancerous gull
Walking though the South Park Blocks on my way to coffee this morning I saw that one of the large glaucous-winged gulls that frequents the park scavenging for trash had a large, tomato-sized bulge protruding from one side of his neck. I watched him awkwardly walking around, wondering if the poor thing might be cancerous or otherwise injured. But then he opened his beak wide and coughed up an entire bagel.
Closing another chapter
When is it the right time to end one journal and open up another? Are we still Winterluding, or have we moved on to the foreplay in preparation for the next Big Adventure? There’s no right answer here, and there’s still plenty of fun to be had in these next few weeks in Portland once Rachael is recovered from her surgery. We’re especially looking forward to six nights in Walla Walla after our month in the apartment here ends and we have a week to fill before our flight to Barcelona.
There’s no denying though that our minds have moved on even if our bodies haven’t just yet. More and more of our attention is turning to trip planning and departure preparations, and we’re starting to count down the days. So that’s a sign. Please join us in the next stage of our vagabond lives as we prepare to depart for Barcelona next month for the first of our planned Three Seasons Around France.
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2 years ago
2 years ago
I suggest you just keep going on this journal until the day you leave the country for your next journal.
Slow news week!! How about our excellent time having coffee together! It made my week anyway.
I love the "Dead Lizard" story.
2 years ago
Great shot.
2 years ago
2 years ago