I've been laid-up for the last few months - stroke #4 if you can believe it. Now I'm even more challenged than before. It seems to have impacted the essential interior muscles and bodily processes that make most natural and normal processes possible more than anything else. I can still get some external help from the limbs on my left side....and my brain - while full of holes blown through it by the multitude of strokes I've had without knowledge of them - it seems to be at least partly intact.
That's both a blessing and a curse. The damned thing always wants to be exercised and continually searches for something it thinks is worthwhile to focus on.....besides itself that is. However, it generally only wants light duty workouts and accordingly always avoids crossword-puzzles, number games, riddles, and anything requiring much mental equity.
Anyway, I'm back to abusing the tip of my left index finger on this keyboard as I slowly hunt-and-peck for words that no longer can be spoken clearly enough even for Dragon, my expensive-but-now-useless VR program to transcribe them. And I am focused on what I consider "a worthwhile project:" The Study of a Local Group of Douglas Fir Trees.
Close-up of #4 showing both the gnarly texture of a not-so-young tree's bark, but still young-looking in spots. (See especially the upper third of this photo for younger, blister-like bark.)
Today I'd like to focus on FIR TREE #4 in my backyard. (I wrote about getting underway with the Fir Tree project a couple posts ago, and then other events took over.) #4 is one of the largest of the trees and is beautifully situated on one side of a lovely Japanese Maple.(#5 is just 12 feet or so further away.)
It is a very tall tree, but not that much taller than many of the younger trees around it. I think it may be old enough that it has begun bulking up in the trunk faster than it stacks on new sections of vertical growth. It generally has that gnarly rough textured bark characteristic of Old Timers, although it also has some bark with a younger look mixed in (see photo above) a rough indication of where it is age-wise.
I would take an educated guess of its age being around 125-150 years old, no older. That makes it "mature" for sure; but it isn't "old growth" by any stretch of the imagination.
This area of the state was logged off to the veritable bone by the turn of the last Century, and there are still a couple cedar artifacts left in the yard from that time:
An artifact of a less mindful time, this 3 feet-high cedar stump core is all that is left of a giant.
We are a stone's throw from the Capital State Forest, and by the very early 1920s our property was probably part of a privately owned forest-land. The trees maybe were a little less ruthlessly treated than they might have been otherwise; still, this acreage appears to have been harvested around that time. Hence, most of the other big fir trees on the property or in the neighborhood are just a little over 100-125 years old. #4 is one of the exceptions, and one of the more handsome I might add.
In the scheme of things life goes on. The cycles of nature have about them a certain kind of inevitability that is both disturbing and reassuring. For example, the gold crowned and white crowned sparrows have headed north, up into British Columbia and the tundra. I have felt a pang or two of real sorrow since they left these parts; but I am comforted by the almost certain knowledge that they will return next February.
The goldfinches have taken their places, along with several other quite visually striking birds: the evening grossbeaks and their smaller kin the black-headed grossbeaks, for example. We have even seen a Western Tanager hanging around lately, a rather elusive visitor, but one we have previously seen about this same time of year. That brings the variety of birds we have been able to observe here in our own backyard to about 30 different species.
The birds on our property have always been a delight, but more than ever this year. Watching them from our breakfast area upstairs has become our favorite morning pastime. They and the new pathway through the backyard have made enjoying the spring especially delightful. It is not yet summer, so who knows what we have in store for us? We will be on the lookout, that’s for sure.
My standard creek-crawling kit - waterproof camera bag, black coffee, good gloves, and crackers.
I went down to the creek this afternoon and put in a little sweat-equity pulling ivy and archangel. In the process I took the time to remember the legacy of Sandy Diedrich, an environmental advocate who lead the charge against vast stands of English ivy that were enveloping large areas of her beloved SW neighborhoods in Portland, Oregon. I never knew her personally; she passed away a year or so before I got involved with the advocacy side of Fanno Creek issues. But she made a huge difference by recruiting, training, and inspiring a generation of wetland warriors. Her work goes on today and her legacy is celebrated annually in the form of Portland’s Environmental Stewardship awards. She – and all the other Watershed Folk back in Portland were much on my mind as I teased out stems and runners from the roots of ferns and the general detritus covering the banks of Beatty Creek.
Below, before and after photos of a small area (roughly 35 sq. ft.) covered with young English ivy. I suspect it washed down here from higher elevations just a couple months ago – the main part of its root system was mired in a mix of silt and gravel right at the edge of the embankment.
Next, a bit further downstream, before and after shots of one of the ubiquitous stands of archangel that crop up every 300 feet or so along the bulk of the stream. I know for a fact that it can be found as far upstream as the 500’ level about 1.5 miles from this site, which lies at 180’.
I haven’t completely finished work on this patch – still have a dozen square feet to work through. Archangel is way more time consuming to pull than English ivy; but like the ivy, it can propagate from mere pieces of stem or leaves.
I re-photographed the hogweed stand. It is thick on both sides of the stream in this area, and also well established a scant 100 feet further down the bank. If and when it is possible to round up some protective gear, I will try my hand at cutting it down and hauling out the remains. That will at least slow it down until a professional crew can come in and do a number on it.
Except for the hogweed infestation, the other two I worked on today were quite "minor," in the sense that the vegetation involved was both relatively sparse, and not yet deeply rooted - precisely the kind you most want to tackle. It's slow going because the goal is to tease out as many segments of root material as possible - have to work a strand at a time. If you try your hand at this sort of thing, make sure to pack along a couple hand warmers.
Below, one of the reasons why fighting back against invaders like ivy and archangel and hogweed and all the rest is so important. I don’t know just how these little stream violas figure in the overall scheme of things –what benefits they bring to the ecosystem and all that; but for now I’ll just work to preserve their place at the table. Maybe a little further downstream enlightenment will come….
A 3.3 acre wetland located in the South Cooper Mountain area of Beaverton, Oregon.
THE GOOD
In April of 2014 the Beaverton City Council approved a planning document that describes the wetland shown above as having the "highest preservation priority." The document is titled "South Cooper Mountain Concept & Community Plan." It has this to say about the area in which the wetland lies:
Tier 2 habitat conservation priority areas may have a greater level of human disturbance or play a less crucial role in wildlife movement than Tier 1 areas, but they include valuable upland habitats, riparian habitats, or both that provide important ecosystem services. Some limited degree of disturbance should be allowed, but the fundamental habitat value and ecosystem services should not be lost or excessively compromised. (Bolded Italics mine)
THE BAD
In March of 2015 The Beaverton School District applied to the Corps of Engineers for a permit to fill 2.5 acres of this wetland with 77,000 cubic yards of rock, sand and gravel. This is necessary, the District maintains, in order to "construct mixed use athletic fields" for a new high school. These fields are in addition to a football/track/lacrosse stadium complex and a baseball field also designed to support soccer that will be constructed in other portions of the site.
How much will 77,000 cubic yards of rock, gravel and sand "disturb" 2.5 acres of wetlands? Here are a few mental images that might give you a sense for how utterly destroyed that wetland and every living thing in it would be:
If the acreage were the base of a box, the sides of that box would have to be 20 feet tall to contain the material.
Envision 2600 double trailer dump trucks lined up hood-ornament to tail-light on Scholls Ferry Road, all moving slowly towards that wetland.
Imagine trying to get into the nearest Costco warehouse only to find it filled up to the five foot level with rocks, gravel and sand.
The public comment period for the District's application expired on April 8th. Now the Corps will review both the application and the comments received. Regardless the outcome of that process, the District and its architects must look forward to other permitting challenges. Significant wetlands are involved, so multiple agencies will have to be convinced that the District's desire for mixed-use athletic fields justifies the virtual destruction of significant wetlands. Included in that mix will be the Oregon Department of State Lands, the Environmental Protection Agency, Clean Water Services, and the City of Beaverton itself, just to name a few.
THE LAND IN BETWEEN
What made this particular wetlands so clearly "significant" to planners working on the South Cooper Mountain land use plan in the first place? Several possible factors come to mind.
The lay of the land looking north towards the summit of Cooper Mountain; SW 175th on the right.
The full extent of the largest of the two wetlands involved is visible in the upper third of the shot. While invasive species of vegetation are beginning to overtake parts of the surrounding area, the wetlands itself is remarkably free of blackberry, English ivy, reed canary grass and the other noxious weeds so prevalent in many other parts of the Tualatin Basin. Stormwater runoff enters this high-quality wetland from the north, east, and the south. To the west (photo left) stretches a series of wetlands that channels runoff from the southwest slopes of Cooper Mountain into the Tualatin river.
Soluble salts collect on top of drying clods of soil pushed up by a mole.
The soils in this area are generally comprised of remnant materials from the Missoula Flood that inundated the Tualatin Basin 12,000 years ago. They are inherently unstable and highly prone to large scale erosion, which is one reason why the Tualatin River's lower reaches are so silt laden. Disturbing existing vegetation and drainage patterns, even a little, can lead to rapid and catastrophic soil loss.
Part of the drainage system that sends runoff from SW 175th towards the wetland.
In an average year, between 150 and 200 million gallons of stormwater runoff begin their journey to the Tualatin River in this area. The vast majority of that runoff passes through this stretch of wetlands. Ecosystem services related to the treatment of runoff provided by the wetlands include bioiltration, phytoremediation, infiltration, and physical retention of sediments.
OPTIONS
Given the madness that sometimes takes hold of critical land use decisions, it's possible that the District will be able to secure all the permits and win the potential legal battles that may be encountered before a valuable wetland resource is forever lost. All that could take a very long time and cost a bundle of money. But I hope that long before that happens, the District itself will look for optional approaches to dealing with the wetlands and other natural resources on the property. There's a pedagogical gold mine lying at the north end of that property, if the administration and its planners can step away from their current plan long enough to recognize it.
Crimson clover, useful in organic farming and pollinator enhancement, is plentiful on the property.
There's not room in this post for even a short exposition on STEM, Place based Learning, Integrated Curriculum, and Service Learning. Suffice it to say, for now at least, any and all these important pedagogical approaches to the learning/teaching process could benefit tremendously from having a good sized, fully-functional, thriving wetland at its disposal. Several Portland Metropolitan area schools have been able to harness the resources that streams and wetlands can bring to a curriculum. But few enjoy the luxuries of size, potential, proximity and inherent quality that this one could provide for a future high school.
The wetland is already a critical component of the South Cooper Mountain community's physical stormwater infrastructure. By using it for a living classroom and work-study area the school could help grow it into an enduring community hallmark. Multiple organizations - Tualatin Parks and Recreation Department, Clean Water Services and Tualatin Riverkeepers, just to name a few - are already working towards the goal of enhancing the county's inventory of natural resources, and almost certainly could be counted on to help support the process. Here's hoping the Beaverton School District will reach out to these resourceful organizations, as well as to the community, for help in finding an alternative to destroying a genuinely irreplaceable resource. Here's a link to the Beaverton School Board. I'm sure they would love to hear from folks interested in this matter.