Zooming In

I think we humans are naturally curious. This is usually a good thing in my book, especially when out for a stroll to clear the mind and get a bit of exercise. For example, you might be walking along a trail and come upon a blooming wildflower. Like me, if it is unfamiliar, you might stop and bend down to get a closer look, a "zooming in" on the flower of sorts. Of course at this point, while zoomed in, I would probably pull out my camera and take a few pictures and make some notes. And thanks to the invention of the zoom lens, and its nearly universal adoption by camera manufacturers over the past 25 years, we know what zooming in means - and if you don't, it can be found in the dictionary!

The key feature of a zoom lens is that it maintains focus while changing focal length (zooming in or out). The first zoom lens was patented in 1902 and used on a commercial movie in 1927. But it was not until 1959 that the first zoom lens for still photography became available. But it was expensive, large, and heavy. Around 1980, zoom lenses for 35 mm still cameras became lighter and much more affordable. When digital cameras replaced film cameras, most were equipped with zoom lenses, solidifying the concept of zooming in and out in both still and movie cameras.

This zooming concept was and is extensively used in the commercial movie industry. And remember those shoulder busting VHS camcorders? You may recall trying to watch home movies that seemed to endlessly zoom in and out on a subject. Along with the constant panning, it was a good recipe for a migraine! But the zooming concept of going from a wide view to a close up view (or close to wide) was here to stay, and over the years it has thankfully improved and is now used sparingly by most!

For the nature lover, the zoom lens gives us photographers an opportunity to provide more context to a subject. For example, the macro shot below, at bottom, shows us an interesting fungus, but provides no view of its world. The sequence of additional, zoomed out photos offer a bit more information with each level of zoom. This familiar Hairy Curtain Crust (Stereum hirsutum) colony is living on a fallen oak tree at Champoeg State Park.

It would be difficult to give credit to one individual for the zoom lens invention, or even the concept. However, this post is a hats off to all those involved over the years, and there are many indeed, especially as the lenses were perfected and improved. For more zoom lens history, check the links in this article: Who Invented the Zoom Lens?

Footnote:

One interesting historical use of the zooming concept was created on film by the National Film Board of Canada in 1968, called Cosmic Zoom. I first saw this groundbreaking, short animated film in 1974 at a film festival while living in Boston. At only eight minutes you can now watch it online and appreciate the non-digital challenges encountered in making this fun movie. Follow the link below to watch. For the mathematically inclined among you, a similar movie was made in 1977 called The Powers of Ten and is on YouTube.

More Links:

Cosmic Zoom Movie

Powers of Ten Movie

Winter Break

Jackson Bottom Wetlands

As our dedicated staff here at wildflower blog central heads out for winter break, here's wishing all of you the best for the holiday season and beyond. It's the time of year when we empty out our suggestion box, brew lots of hot coffee, clean our cameras, make file backups, and most importantly, start planning for next season!

Wetland Trail

Not to worry though, with the backlog here at blog central, the posting will continue until extreme cabin fever sets in. Like many renowned institutions, we encourage our staff to make the most of the time off to learn more about related fields, such as botany, art, geology, and photography. Or there's always disco dancing lessons or perhaps yodeling for fun and profit with your Austrian pinscher. Whatever enrichment we embark on, you can be sure we'll be back, rested and recharged.

And now, to close out the year, here's our 2016 list of oddly named plants/flowers.

Hooded Ladies Tresses (Spiranthes romanzoffiana). Native to the Northwest. I suppose if you use a great deal of imagination and add couple of stiff drinks, this flower may look like its namesake long braided hair, from a distance. The flowers can be up to 18 in. tall.

We had not seen this uncommon member of the orchid family before this summer. Found a few growing in some clearings up on the Wilson River trail in the coast range. At left, it is seen by a wilting Evening Primrose.

     

Twiggy Wreath Plant (Stephanomeria virgata) is also called Tall Stephanomeria or Rod Wirelettuce. There were a few of these growing in the scorching hot July climate at Smith Rock State Park, north of Redmond. The batch on the left is about the size of a laundry basket. The flowers are about the size of a quarter. The slender stems are indeed twiggy and it's easy to imagine how a wreath could be made from these dried parts.

     

This Common Soapwort (Saponaria officinalis) Aug. also known as Bouncing Betty is a native plant seen at Champoeg State Park in August along the river trail. This plant name actually makes some sense because the leaves and stems release a soap-like liquid when bruised. Pioneers used it from New England to the west as a cleaning agent. A folk tale says a traveler named Betty would leave her soapwort plants wherever she camped as a token of thanks, hence the Bouncing Betty name.

     

The term "wort" is common in plant names and generally means a plant that is an edible herb or has some medicinal value. For those of us who are home ale brewers, "wort" refers to the liquid concoction of malt and grains that is cooked before fermentation. At some point these two definitions must have intersected - and there's probably a good history novel in there somewhere!

The diminutive and unassuming Oaks Toothwort (Cardamine nuttallii), makes a subtle entrance in early spring, just when the bloom season is starting. This native likes dry, semi-shaded slopes, near Garry oak trees as its name implies. Its small blooms and short stature make it easy to miss if you are not looking at the ground! These were spotted near Rowena in March.

And finally, another native favorite of ours, Forktooth Ookow (Dichelostemma congestum) can be seen locally in sunny grasslands by early summer. Its elegant cluster of blooms stands about 18 inches above ground, accounting for its other name: Ball Head Cluster Lily, formerly Brodiaea congesta. Ookow is a native American term that refers to this plant, but its meaning is unclear.

With that said, have a good winter and try to enjoy some cold weather outings; or, head south for warmth as well as a good dose of solar infusion!

Palisades

Palisades Park on Far Side

Back in May of this year, I posted about urban parks and natural areas in New York City. With more than 20 million souls living in the New York City metro area, you're probably thinking there needs to be a lot more of these areas. In truth, you don't have to go far to enjoy nature around here. Mind you, it's not wilderness, but in some ways its the same as anywhere. For example, on a recent visit to upper Manhattan in late October I watched two kayakers paddle their way down the Hudson River, just as I would see on the Willamette River.

And just across the river, less than a mile away is the Palisades Interstate Park in New Jersey. This curious park is just a half mile wide, but twelve miles long, with 2,500 acres of mostly wild cliffs, uplands, and shoreline. It was actually preserved back in 1900 by then Governors Theodore Roosevelt of New York and Foster Voorhees of New Jersey. Local quarries were destroying the palisades at an alarming rate, until the preservation became law.

Looking north from N.Y. - Palisades Park on Left

Walking along the trails in this historic park is a lesson in the spirit of preservation. There is something for everyone here: walking trails, boating, fishing, biking trails, scenic lookouts, and several historic structures as well as two scenic drives.

To reach the park, I took a 1.5 mile urban walk, across the venerable George Washington Bridge, first opened in October 1931. It's 4,760 feet long (0.9 mile) and now carries about 106 million vehicles a year, making it the busiest bridge in the world. The auto toll in 1931 at 50 cents, has increased to $15 per single trip as of 2015.

The walk over the bridge is scenic but with all that traffic, incredibly noisy, prompting me to double-time it. I also had to watch out for bikes on the same path. Some of those bikers seemed to think they were on the Tour de France, zooming by at high speed!

Hardwoods and Rocks everywhere!

Once in the Palisades Park, things were much quieter and calmer. The river itself is similar to the western end our Columbia River in size and flow. But the shoreline park area is vastly different. For starters, there are very few conifers. Hardwoods account for most of the trees in the area, although many of the original forests have had more human influence. With all the leafy trees turning to their fall colors, it is picturesque. Another difference is that the Hudson has fewer distinct bio-regions along its path. Nonetheless, it is quite scenic.

     

In late October I was not expecting to see any wildflowers, but the weather had been exceptionally mild this year, so there were a few hanging on. Mostly, I spotted two non-natives, the white Snakeroot (Ageratina altissima) and a local purple Morning Glory (Ipomoea purpurea). Snakeroot is abundant in this area and is toxic if consumed. In the early 19th century, thousands of early settlers died after drinking milk from cows that ate snakeroot. On a more positive note, I also saw the native White Wood Aster, doing quite well in a rock crack.

     

Morning Glory (left) and Snakeroot (right)

White Wood Aster (Eurybia divaricata)

My walk in the park only covered about three miles on this day, but I made a mental note to rent a bike for my next visit, to cover more ground. I would definitely visit the Greenbrook Santuary, a preserve within the park, about 4.5 miles north of the bridge. The terrain on my route is littered with large, cracked rocks, some resembling human made sculptures. Trees and shrubs take root in them any place where soil and water can settle.

     

During my three week stay in the city, I visited other parks with natural areas, including Ft. Tryon park and of course, Central Park. Two items of interest caught my attention in these parks: a black squirrel and the handsome eastern Blue Jay. To be fair, I saw many of the jays in the woods and they are similar to our Scrub Jays in appearance and disposition and are the same bird family, Corvidae. The black squirrels, on the other hand, are a mutated version (melanism) of the native gray squirrels. I also saw hundreds of sparrows, mostly in the smaller parks.

     

The area on both sides of the Hudson have a colorful past, notably during the Revolutionary war, with military forts on both sides. See the links below for more information. A visitor center at Ft. Lee has many displays of this period.

Another link below provides a look at a unique approach to a photographic flower database used by Ft. Tryon Park.

Links:

Fort Tryon Park Flowers

Fort Tryon Wiki Page

Palisades Interstate Park

Head for the Hills, Part 3

As I work on the final post of this wildflower triptych, I'm struck by how quickly the experience fades into the background. It was about four months ago I was eagerly meandering along on this hike, soaking up the views and the details near the ground. And here it is almost Thanksgiving! Hence, my sincere thanks to those who keep these trails open and protected.

In this post, we'll cover the final miles of the Canyon Creek Meadows hike, including a spur trail to Wasco Lake.

Backtracking along the 1.5 mile Three Fingered Jack spur trail is much quicker now, as it is all downhill! We spot many old favorites along the way, such as the lovely pink Lewis' Monkeyflower, more Streambank Arnica, some Partridgefoot, and quite a bit of Scarlet Indian Paintbrush. Most notable, we came across a small cluster of rare Sucksdorf's Paintbrush, growing along a brook.

Castilleja suksdorfii

Spiraea splendens

The last section of the hike takes us through a marshy area that has fewer blooms and almost no other hikers. It's a more localized trail without vistas other than burned trees and several creeks that feed into the marsh.


Fortunately, few mosquitoes are about, and there is a bit of a breeze. Further along, we see more Lupine and Sitka Valerian, as well as Rosy Spiraea, shown here.

Just before reaching the spur trail junction to Wasco Lake, some movement in a small pool catches my attention: it's a full grown Cascades Frog, about three inches long. I watch it swim about and then encourage it to eat more mosquitoes.

Rana Cascadae

The spur trail to Wasco Lake is 0.7 miles each way, starting at elevation 5,300 ft. and going mostly downhill to the lake. This area is totally burnt, with plenty of new growth popping up. The Pearly Everlasting covers these slopes, but I also spot some Bleeding Hearts and Bracken Ferns.

Young trees are getting plenty of sun.

Half way to the lake I meet two hikers and their two very wet dogs coming out. This is fortunate because they let me know that there are actually three lakes along the trail and Wasco is the last one - and is good for swimming they say.

First Lake of Three

This part of the hike is eerie, walking among the dead, but still standing trees. We spot no animals of any kind along here. Once reaching Wasco Lake I take another break and poke around the shore a bit. The water is very clear, warmer than I expected, and quite shallow at the south end, good for wading.

Wasco Lake - shallow and fairly warm at this end.

From Wasco Lake it is about 2.2 miles back to the trailhead. The route is mostly downhill and we get a couple of Mt. Jefferson views. At this point my feet are tiring and I've run out of snacks - all the more motivation to get back! Near the main trail junction, this Tall Cinquefoil decorates the downed trees scene.

Potentilla arguta

That's a wrap, as they say. I hope to return to this area next year, at a different date to find the many other blooms in the area. Meanwhile, to see the rest of the photos for this post, follow the link below.

Links:

Canyon Creek Meadows Photo Album, Part 2

Head for the Hills, Part 2

Jack Lake

Rise and shine for day two of the quest for new trails, wildflowers and mountain vistas. After a hardy breakfast at the wonderful Blue Spruce Bead and Breakfast, our base camp, we head out for today's outing: Canyon Creek Meadows in the Mt. Jefferson Wilderness. First stop, the ranger station in Sisters where I get the latest road and trail conditions. They give us the all-clear, and we drive northwest for about 25 miles - the last six being a steep, cinder-gravel washboard road with plenty of dust!

Fortunately the day is mild, clear, and with little wind. We arrive at the 5,130 ft. trailhead in about an hour. Not being early risers, we join about ten other vehicles in the rocky lot. A group of senior hikers in a small van line up at the pit toilet before starting off on their trek - always a wise choice. Today's hike is a 7.5 mile loop with two spur trails going to other points of interest: Three Fingered Jack and Wasco Lake.

The trail starts out in a burned out area from a massive fire in 2003. There is plenty of new growth as well as long dead black and silver tree trunks standing watch over the terrain. A tiny lake, Jack Lake, serves as a watering hole for the lucky canines on the trail. From here we get a glimpse of Three Fingered Jack, a worn down volcanic peak to the west. The name is puzzling because from this angle I don't see anything that resembles a finger on the massive rock pile.


The meadows are located about two miles from the trailhed, but after a half mile into the hike we spot our first wildflowers: some Glaucous Penstemon, many Broadleaf Lupine, and the striking Scarlet Gilia, shown here:

The route is quite varied, with ravines and exposed areas to explore as we wind through some forest that escaped the 2003 burn until reaching the meadows east of Three Fingered Jack. There are multiple creeks and mini-brooks flowing with snow melt, even in late July. The water is icy cold as it begins its journey down to the east.

Snowmelt from Three Fingered Jack

We find many more flowers as we approach the meadows, including the azure Cascades Penstemon, Gray's Lovage, the intense Menzie's Larkspur, and one of my favorites, the diminutive, ground- hugging Subalpine Mariposa Lily.

     

     

From the meadows, the trail gets steeper as we slowly march up to the base of the mountain. I'm motivated to reach the hight point of the hike, as well as stopping for lunch and a rest! The scenery is awe-inspiring here, making for easy distractions. Along the creek we spotted about a dozen of these beetles, roaming around on the Sitka Valerian. Later, at the edge of the upper meadow, giant bumblebees were visiting the Pink Mountain Heather.

A golden Longhorn beetle on Sitka Valerian.

Western Bumblebee on Pink Mountain
Heather

Approaching "Jack." Note hikers on trail.

At foot of Jack. In this area, we saw only
 young Mountain Hemlock, and lots of them!

At the high point of the hike, and roughly the half way mark, I take a long lunch break to reflect on the journey so far and make notes. I underscore two plants, which I had not previously seen and have since identified: California Stickseed and the tiny and barely noticeable Alpine Willowherb. In fact, I would not have seen the willowherb had it not been growing next to my lunch spot!

     

The stickseed resembles the smaller Rusty Popcorn flower, but its bloom is the size of a dime and the leaves are different. The Alpine Willowherb has the classic lobed, four petal blossom, but is the size of a pencil eraser and only about 3 in. high. It's always fun to make a new discovery along the way!

Stay tuned for the final part of this great hike coming soon. Meanwhile, use the link below to see the photo album for this post.

My lunch stop view from a small shaded area. Elevation
about 6,500 ft and  the air is cool.

Links:

Canyon Creek Meadows Photo Album, Part 1