Dirt and Detritivores

This post is about heroes. Not your Pulitzer prize heroes or your comic book action heroes, but the unsung heroes of that seldom talked about part of the natural world: dirt. The heroes in this world are mostly invisible. They are silent partners, master recyclers, often ignored kingpins of making dirt viable and getting carbon back into our air - no small task. The underdogs of the understory deserve a post! Don't worry though, we are not getting down to the molecular level - after all many of you gardeners out there already know most of this, if you have a compost heap.

Now that all those colorful fall leaves are on the ground, the action really begins. I'm not talking about spending hours raking up your yard, although that can be good exercise - if you don't rely on one of those blowers!

After a few weeks of rain and several layers of leaf buildup, those underdogs start their work. Bacteria, fungi, insects, slugs, and worms all do their part. They arrive at different times and finish their work in parallel or independently. These detritivores, as they are called, are an important part of the ecosystem. For example, fungi will release enzymes and acids that break down the structure of the leaf.


As the older leaves on the bottom of the heap turn to mush with the help of bacteria and detritivores, nutrients are deposited into the soil and the leaves slowly disintegrate. In addition, the carbon within the leaves will also be left in the soil. Luckily for us living earth inhabitants, this carbon slowly returns to the atmosphere as carbon dioxide via carbon respiration (remember that carbon cycle you learned about in high school?!).

As the decomposition process of plant matter continues, a typical deciduous leaf will be completely gone within a year. Conifer needles take much longer, up to seven years. The nutrients in the leaf are passed on to the soil, either directly or via the detritivores.

One of the more visible aspects of this process are the mushrooms that pop up during this time. Generally speaking, the main visible parts of fungi (mushroom stem and cap) are agents of reproduction. They produce spores and/or create bud-like growths that become new fungi. The visible mushroom portion is of course what the culinary world is most interested in; as are we nature photographers. The subtle colors and fine texture of these organisms make for good subjects. You just need to be prepared to get down low with your gear.

Our climate, soil, and geography in western Oregon make for prime mushroom habitat. With that in mind, it's not uncommon to find fungi any time of the year. However, fall is the prime time for a good mushroom show, before snow and freezing weather arrive. As a side note, the term "mushroom" has been in use since at least 1400 A.D. Its actual origin is unclear but some scholars believe it may have come from the French word "mousse" (moss), because some mushrooms grow in or near moss.

Next time you are out for a walk on the dirt, just be mindful of all that heroic activity going on underfoot! It's always a "work in progress!"

Champoeg State Park in Early November

Shute Park in Mid November

Rood Bridge Park in Late November

October Oddities

Vine Maple

Around here October is generally an enjoyable transition month. If you are a kid, it means pumpkin patch visits, corn mazes, and probably loads of candy. For us adults it's pumpkin spice lattes and colorful trees and leaves. The weather can be nasty or nice, so you don't get stuck in a climate rut!

In most years, late October is also when our fall leaf color makes its best showing here in the lowlands. The native Oregon Ash, Big Leaf Maples, and Vine Maples put on a good show as well as numerous non-native horticultural plantings in yards and parks.

Big Leaf Maple at left and
Oregon Ash at right.

Although we won't spot any wildflowers after this month, there are many curious organic things of interest. In this post we'll cover just a couple: the familiar tree "conks" and the not so familiar Robin's Pincushion.

Robin's Pincushion (Diplolepis rosae)

You've probably noticed that many of our local non-woodland nature trails have quite a few wild rose bushes growing in exposed areas. These plants are extremely hardy and produce ample flowers and seed fruits (hips) to ensure propagation. The fruits are very colorful and in particular the Dog Rose hips are bright red.

On a recent walk we noticed what appeared to be a ball of moss on one of the rose branches. Oddly though, it was not the right color for moss. About the size of a golf ball, this curious mass piqued our interest. After researching it a bit back at home, we learned this was a Robin's Pincushion Gall, also called a Moss Gall.

   

It is created when a particular female gall wasp lays up to 60 eggs into a wild rose leaf bud. About a week later the eggs hatch and the wasp larvae begin to eat the leaf. This action stimulates the growth of extra mutated leaf cells that form the hairy ball that looks like the moss. The larvae stops growing around the end of October and becomes pre-pupal for the winter. In May the adults emerge from the gall.

Shelf Fungus, a.k.a Bracket Fungus 

Anyone who has walked or hiked around just about any forest in western Oregon has seen Shelf Fungus. This is because it thrives on dead or dying tree trunks or stumps.  The name actually encompasses a large group of fungi called polypores, common throughout the world. The familiar portion of the fungus that is visible on the outside of the bark is known as a conk. The Artist's Bracket (Ganoderma applanatum) fungus is a common Bracket Fungus in our area - you can typically see dozens on a modest forest hike.

The larger ones resemble a dinner plate cut in half and stuck onto a tree. The top portion is light to dark brown, while the bottom is slightly yellow or white. Some have thin, colorful lines near the outer edges, making a striking display and fun to photograph.

In the photos here you can see the subtle colors and fascinating structure of these odd fungi. They are woody with a tough leather-like surface. The smooth undersurface has been used as a canvas of sorts for artists who carve or draw designs on them after removal - hence the name artist's bracket.

     

     

Bug's eye view. Twelve inches wide!

Cone shaped conk - also about 12 in. wide.

Close up view of the above conk.

These polypore fungi can contribute to the death of a tree as well as grow and obtain nutrients from dead trees or fallen, decomposing trunks and branches. They are usually considered part of a healthy, diverse forest because they are basically organic recyclers. In Europe they are used as indicator species in some old-growth forests. A declining population of polypores would indicate an unhealthy forest over time. 

Shelf fungus can be found all year in most of our heavily treed forests. However, in Fall they tend to be easier to spot as the surrounding plants loose their leaves. So keep your eyes peeled on your next outing and you might get "conked."

Saddle Up!

The saddle from below.

We know summer must be winding down when our resident jays get active. About a dozen Stellar's Jays and Scrub Jays begin their annual ritual of gathering nuts and acorns and then hiding them around the property. I have to admire their tenacity and work ethic; they come and go all day long, as if it was a contest. Their curious behavior is not random - a couple of years ago a PBS show described how these jays are really smart in this way and they can recall where a good portion of the nuts are hidden! That puts my geezer memory to shame!

Another sure sign of summer's end is the waning flower blooms out in the field. This summer gave us another long dry spell in western Oregon. Add to that a terrible wildfire season in nearly all corners of the state kept us mostly local and hiking in the shade of our coastal mountains. As we have posted before, the Saddle Mountain State Natural Area is a favorite place to visit; both for a good hardy hike and for checking out plant life.

This year we sent our most senior staffer up to the natural area on September 6. It was a good day to get out of town with temperatures in the 90's and hazy skies from fires. We did not expect to find much of anything blooming up on the mountain, but were surprised to find a few over achievers. Our trail logs included several colorful plant berries not seen before.

The trail is steep, at first going through a mature red alder forest, giving way to a Douglas Fir forest, and finally emerging on the treeless saddle, a grassy, rocky protrusion about 20 miles from the ocean. The high point is about 3,300 feet, making it a botanical oddity in this area. It is common to reach the top and be in the clouds and fog. On this day, there was some fog and smoke but the wind was steady at about 25 mph from the south, making for a fairly good view of the ocean and Astoria.

The natural area is surrounded by private timber lands; the views of the clear-cuts from the trail serve as a constant reminder of this.



Here's an overview of the notable blooms seen and some of the seedy berries waiting for something to transport them. Click or tap the photo to see the full size version.

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At left, the Great Hedge Nettle (Stachys chamisonis var. cooleyae) offers some final color for the year. Common on most woodland trails, the mint family member does not sting! At right, the native White Hawkweed (Hieracium albiflorum) was a new one for us.

     

In the center of the saddle, just off the trail, about a dozen small Scotch Bluebells (Campanula rotundifolia) were hanging in there, blowing around in the wind. These delicate-looking but tough plants are native, despite the common name.

     

Also, in the exposed saddle, these Asters seemed to be defiant about the long dry summer and harsh conditions on the mountain. They appear to be Mountain Asters (Canadanthus modestus) or perhaps Douglas Asters.

     

What's a summer hike without the unique and colorful Coastal Goldenrod (Solidago spathulata) and the prolific Pearly Everlasting (Anaphalis margaritacea).

     

Meanwhile, in the berry department, several familiar understory woodland plants were strutting their colorful seed pods. All are in the Maianthemum genus, meaning "May flowering."  The False Solomon Seal (Maianthemum racemosum) berries jump right out, even in the shade.

     

The Star-Flowered Solomon Seal (Maianthemum stellatum) berries are about the size of a shelled hazelnut. The colors are exotic looking, as if painted by humans.

    

Not to be out-classed, the False Lily of the Valley (Maianthemum dilatatum) berries also put on quite a display. At just a bit smaller than the ones above, they are rounder and have a more splattered design.

     

And last, but not least, if you were an early native person with a toothache, you could grind up these Cow Parsnip (Heracleum maximum) seeds and apply for relief!

View From the Rim

Tam McArthur Rim in Central Oregon

Those of us who came along before the Internet age (called "the ancients" by some) still have a habit of reaching for a book on a shelf when looking for information. Not to say that we don't fully use and appreciate the search engines of today - they are incredibly useful for us amateur botanists and nature lovers in general. But if you've ever wanted to look up the name of a place here in Oregon and learn about how the name came about, then you probably reached for Oregon Geographic Names, by Lewis A. McArthur. First published in 1928, it is now in its 7th edition as of 2003. It has a wealth of fascinating geographical and historical information for just about any reader.

Lewis McArthur, a.k.a. Tam McArthur, was a notable Oregon luminary, serving on the Oregon Geographic Board for 35 years, until 1949. He was also president of the Oregon Historical Society for several years. So it was a highly meaningful nod to Mr. McArthur when the Board gave his name to this special spot in the Cascade Range.

On a recent trip to central Oregon, we hiked up to Tam McArthur Rim, a volcanic formation south of the town of Sisters, Oregon. It's a pleasant 2.5 mile journey through sub-alpine habitat, with spectacular views of area mountains and lakes. The trail is also a classic summer wildflower journey, with some snow remaining well into August in some years. This year we crossed only one small batch of snow near the end of the trail, so there were plenty of blooming flowers.



As a bonus to our hike, thousands of California Tortoiseshell butterflies were in the area, resting, drinking, and flying. In some spots they covered the trail and we had to tread carefully. In other spots they seemed to cluster on a particular rock or damp dirt. It was quite an amazing sight to see so many butterflies in one day!

     

On our way up to the rim, we noticed the nearby Three Creeks Lake would make for a nice post-hike swimming hole, but sadly our schedule did not allow us to partake; but we did make it to the Three Creeks Brewpub in Sisters for dinner.

We spotted many familiar faces along the way, such as Subalpine Lupine, Shrubby Penstemon, Pink Mountain Heather, Sticky Cinquefoil, and the resilient high desert Bitterbrush. For this post, we've included mostly new-to-us plants, but you can take a gander at all of them in the gallery link below.

• The fascinating Cobwebby Paintbrush (Castilleja arachnoidea) is yellowish or reddish and was quite prevalent on the second mile of the hike:

     

• You can't hike in the Cascades without getting dirty socks or thinking about a snack at some point. Here, we see Eriogonum pyrolifolium (Dirty Socks) on the left and Eriogonum marifolium (Marum-leaved Buckwheat) on the right.

     

• It seems there is always a problem flower on every hike, and this time it's the mystery lupine. We think this might be a Dwarf Mountain Lupine (Lupinus lyallii) or possibly a Silvery Lupine (Lupinus argenteus). On the right, we're sure you are looking at the Pale Agoseris (Agoseris glauca), a native that resembles the dandelions in your yard!

     

• We also admired the many misshapen trees, both living and not, along the way. Here we see a collection of deceased White Bark Pines along the rim, indicating the harsh conditions of this place. On the right, a mountain hemlock bonsai makes a go of it in an unlikely but more sheltered, lower elevation spot.

     

And to wrap up this post, here's a stitched view of the lakes just below the rim. 

View of Lakes Below the Rim

More photos in the Tam McArthur Rim hike gallery.