Friday, July 24, 2009
The Olympic Park Institute Mission
I recently produced a video for my work's website, Olympic Park Institute. Enjoy
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Summer Alpine Excursions
A friend and I headed out for a short overnight in the area of Obstruction Point to go on a ridge run out along the division between Lilly and Grand Valley. We camped up high, watched the sunset, and slept under the stars. While we were packing up after a bland breakfast, we spotted two nice size black bears skirting the ridgeline where we had come from. Once we were all packed up we headed off in their direction. One took off down the mountainside, while the other waited until we were much closer to take off the other direction across the meadows.
Mid summer. Sheesh, where is the time going?
Hiking out the valley we stopped to watch trout in the alpine lakes while picking out the songs of many birds around us. Our conversations were punctuated by moments spent in silence listening to the ethereal water-like song of the hermit thrush. To me, there is no sound that compares to the song of a thrush in the mountain meadows amidst the wildflowers of the summer.
Mid summer. Sheesh, where is the time going?
Hiking out the valley we stopped to watch trout in the alpine lakes while picking out the songs of many birds around us. Our conversations were punctuated by moments spent in silence listening to the ethereal water-like song of the hermit thrush. To me, there is no sound that compares to the song of a thrush in the mountain meadows amidst the wildflowers of the summer.
Thursday, July 9, 2009
Life Everywhere on Lake Crescent
Well, it is already the middle of July. We have days where I can lay out in the sun at our house and bake on our deck at near 90 degrees, and then days that feel like March, just a little warmer.
This morning I went through my usual routine. I woke up in the twilight to the soft keeer of an endangered Marbeled Murrelet filtering down through the blanket of clouds hovering halfway above up the mountains. The reflection across the lake was so still I could make out individual trees in the calm.
After a breakfast of barley, quinoa, oatmeal, goat yogurt, honey, apples, currants, and mate, I stretched out with some yoga, and hopped on my bike to head down the road. I pedaled slowly down the gravel road, across a steel bridge, and then up into the forest, along the Spruce Railroad Trail. This is an old railroad that was built during WWI to transport spruce from the coast so it could be used in the planes that were in high demand in Europe at the time. The war ended before the railroad was finished, and now the tracks have been removed and a small overgrown bike trail exists in it place. Along the five miles I bike on my way to work, I pass through forests of doug-fir three and four feet wide. From time to time the trail descends to the emerald lake shore. The water quickly drops off into sapphire depths.
Once I get to the canoe that is hidden under some trees directly across the lake from OPI, I usually just stop and lock my bike, but this morning as I was slowing down, a bird of prey dropped out of the trees and glided directly in front of me for awhile, before curling up into the trees above. It was a Barred Owl fledgling! It landed maybe thirty feet from me up in the trees, and let out a little wispy squeal like I have never heard. Another one answered it from further in the forest. I watched them fly around for awhile, eyeing me up from time to time with bobbing heads, and finally after they made their way upslope and out of sight, I hopped into the canoe and headed across the lake.
On my way across the lake I watched barn swallows swirl around above the water. A kingfisher made a lazy arc up in the air, and landed up higher in a tree along the lake shore, while a deer reached up high with hits neck outstretched to graze some doug-fir buds. What can I really complain about?
This morning I went through my usual routine. I woke up in the twilight to the soft keeer of an endangered Marbeled Murrelet filtering down through the blanket of clouds hovering halfway above up the mountains. The reflection across the lake was so still I could make out individual trees in the calm.
After a breakfast of barley, quinoa, oatmeal, goat yogurt, honey, apples, currants, and mate, I stretched out with some yoga, and hopped on my bike to head down the road. I pedaled slowly down the gravel road, across a steel bridge, and then up into the forest, along the Spruce Railroad Trail. This is an old railroad that was built during WWI to transport spruce from the coast so it could be used in the planes that were in high demand in Europe at the time. The war ended before the railroad was finished, and now the tracks have been removed and a small overgrown bike trail exists in it place. Along the five miles I bike on my way to work, I pass through forests of doug-fir three and four feet wide. From time to time the trail descends to the emerald lake shore. The water quickly drops off into sapphire depths.
Once I get to the canoe that is hidden under some trees directly across the lake from OPI, I usually just stop and lock my bike, but this morning as I was slowing down, a bird of prey dropped out of the trees and glided directly in front of me for awhile, before curling up into the trees above. It was a Barred Owl fledgling! It landed maybe thirty feet from me up in the trees, and let out a little wispy squeal like I have never heard. Another one answered it from further in the forest. I watched them fly around for awhile, eyeing me up from time to time with bobbing heads, and finally after they made their way upslope and out of sight, I hopped into the canoe and headed across the lake.
On my way across the lake I watched barn swallows swirl around above the water. A kingfisher made a lazy arc up in the air, and landed up higher in a tree along the lake shore, while a deer reached up high with hits neck outstretched to graze some doug-fir buds. What can I really complain about?
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