Acorns in Parking Lots

“I’ll be right back…” I called out as I began crossing the large parking lot to the motel office where they kept hot coffee all day long. In the early twilight, I could see splotches of some tannish-gray material spattered across the dark pavement. My first thought was that someone’s tires had collected and dropped globs of mud, but they seemed to be the wrong color. Then I noticed odd little chunks and on closer inspection could see what they really were – acorns. The oak trees that had been planted in the median strips had produced dozens, which now were ripe and dropping to the pavement. Many had been smashed by tires, but some were still whole, scattered about with their broken-off caps. Quickly grabbing that hot cup of coffee, I set it down on a curb and began gathering up the acorns and caps into the front of my shirt. Gingerly balancing the hot cup in one hand and my newly-acquired treasure in the other, I returned to our room, joyful. “Look what I found – free decorations!”

I have always loved to gather nature’s bounty, which is everywhere you look and often free for the taking. Brightly-colored autumn leaves of different shapes and sizes, various seed pods and grasses, lichen-covered twigs, evergreen cones, berries, and nuts are abundant this time of year.  As the weather cools and dampens, I bring them indoors to add some color and cheer to the darkening days. Once collected, however, we need to see how they fit together and how best to use or display them.

And, if we pay attention, those are not the only free treasures to be found, combined, and valued. I remember the year, shortly after both my parents passed away, that I had the opportunity to attend art school (at the age of 50, no less…) and use my part of a small inheritance to complete the studies debt-free. Another time, while attending a community class and subsequently volunteering to use that knowledge, I met some women who ultimately became some of my closest friends. Asking for help on a local internet community page has resulted in meeting some incredible people, whom I would now not hesitate to contact for access to their unique skills. Serving on a local community committee has helped me become acquainted with members of different service organizations, educational institutions, and a local juvenile justice department. The exchange of information and knowledge with each of these people has enriched my life immensely and helped me connect them with others who have needed their expertise.

Those acorns – and their matching caps – returned home with me. The caps have been glued on and they are prominently displayed, along with other nuts and seedpods, as a reminder of the yearly harvest.  I’d much rather enjoy these real things than plastic imported replicas. Some years, I gather a small amount of evergreen huckleberries from our yard. They are small and there is never enough to do much with, but when combined with apples from my neighbor’s yard, they make a wonderfully tasty pie.

Many of us are not as close to the land and its abundant resources as our ancestors were, but it’s good to remember that all these things are timeless gifts from God. The harvest is ready – reap what you can, share the bounty, and be forever grateful.

 

Even now the one who reaps draws a wage and harvests a crop for eternal life, so that the sower and the reaper may be glad together. ~ John 4:36
 

 

Struggling Upstream

Photo by John Williams

Surrounded by the hush of the forest - firs, cedars, and maples closing in with all their muted glory - I was once again struck by the fragility, yet the stubbornness, of life. Below us in the stream the salmon struggled, their once-glorious bodies battered, tattered, and covered with white splotches of fungus. Theirs was a trip of a lifetime, a one-time journey upstream to preserve their species; a trek marked by danger and tragedy as they wended their way past fishermen, boulders, logs, predators, through culverts, over or around dams and fish ladders.

Many would not survive the ordeal. Those who did would, if successful, produce progeny that might face even greater challenges on their return journey to the sea. It was a risk they all had to take – to choose otherwise would mark the end of their kind.

Salmon are driven by instinct, a highly-sensitive sense of smell, and an uncanny ability to detect the pattern of the Earth's magnetic field at the mouth of their native river. They are one of the few fish that can adjust to differences in salinity, spending part of their lives in both salt and fresh water. Adults live in the ocean where they feed and grow for six months to seven years, depending on the species. At maturity, they return to the stream where they were hatched and literally fight their way upstream to the ideal gravel beds for laying their eggs.

During this time, the adults stop eating and their bodies undergo many changes to help them attract a mate and ward off competitors. After the precious eggs have been laid, fertilized, and gently covered, the adults finally give in to the starvation and damage of their bodies and die. But that is not the end of their story – far from it. Some of the dying or dead fish provide food for other animals; their decomposed bodies return valuable nutrients to the water and soil of the surrounding forest.

Photo by Laura Finch

The newly-hatched fish continue to feed on the yolk sac attached to their bellies. Some kinds stay in the gravel for several weeks before swimming up into the open water of the stream, where they feed on plankton and other tiny aquatic organisms. Some spend one to two years in fresh water before beginning the long journey downstream and heading out to sea. As the current carries the young salmon tail-first to the ocean, their bodies undergo physical and chemical changes to enable them to survive in salt water. It truly is an incredible, never-ending circle of life.

Photo by Laura Finch

God provides us with many teachers and there is much we can learn from the salmon. We need to become keenly aware of our instincts and learn to trust in them; as we develop our finely-tuned sense of self and a sense of place, know that those are inexorably linked. We should set our goals and persevere until they are reached, no matter how tough the going may be. If we value the wisdom and knowledge of older people who have amassed a wealth of information, experience, and acumen, we will find it is worth making the time to listen to and learn from them. To live sustainably, so that there is enough for everyone, we need to become fully conscious of our use of the many natural resources this planet provides – carefully buying, using, and recycling; there should be little that we waste or throw away. We must trust that others will carry on after us.

There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens:ferences for Ecclesiastes 3:1

·Cross References

a time to be born and a time to die, a time to plant and a time to uproot,

a time to kill and a time to heal, a time to tear down and a time to build,

a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance,

a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,

a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing…   

~ Ecclesiastes 3:1-5

It is the season of renewal, joy, and hope -

CELEBRATE!

Are the Stars Out Tonight?

“While wandering a deserted beach at dawn, stagnant in my work, I saw a man in the distance bending and throwing as he walked the endless stretch toward me. As he came near, I could see that he was throwing starfish, abandoned on the sand by the tide, back into the sea. When he was close enough I asked him why he was working so hard at this strange task. He said that the sun would dry the starfish and they would die. I said to him that I thought he was foolish. There were thousands of starfish on miles and miles of beach. One man alone could never make a difference. He smiled as he picked up the next starfish. Hurling it far into the sea he said, "It makes a difference for this one." I abandoned my writing and spent the morning throwing starfish.”  ~ Loren Eiseley

 One thing I have learned: On this road called "life" you never know for sure where the twists and turns will take you, so it's best to just enjoy the journey...

 

Our first visit was in the cold dark of a February night. I felt the old familiar uneasiness of an unknown place and situation, but my two cohorts assured me that we had permission to be there, so I swallowed my caution and followed them down the stairs, across the wet sandy mud, and under the private dock.

 It did not take us long to survey the situation, choose our area of study, measure and record its dimensions, and then set to work on the sea stars.

 

 (For information: BEACH EXPLORATION: SEA STARS)

 You might know them as starfish - the current scientific term is sea stars - and here on the American west coast, they are in serious trouble; from Alaska through California, they are dying by the millions. Although this phenomenon has been reported before, never has it been seen with this severity and magnitude.

Because the three of us are part of a volunteer beach naturalists' group and frequently work on our local beaches, we jumped at the chance to take some training and commit to collecting data to help researchers find the cause of this terrible affliction known as Sea Star Wasting Syndrome.

(For information on this syndrome click HERE)

  ochre/purple sea star

Because of the excellent information provided to us and an "on-top-of-it" line of communication to assist us, the actual data collection has not been difficult.

mottled sea star

 

Basically, we need to identify and target two specific species of sea stars (ochre/purple star Pisaster ochraceus and mottled star Evasterias troschelii) in a given area, measure the widest distance across each of them, decide whether or not they appear healthy - if they do not, we assign each a number according to how advanced the disease is on them, record all of this and photograph them.

Although I am a true naturalist at heart, with some training, I have to say that I have never been involved in actual scientific data collection of this nature. So why start now?

 Meegan M. Reid for the Kitsap Sun

 

We are three mostly retired ladies of a "certain age" who happen to love the out-of-doors, all creatures, and enjoy a good challenge. We have varying degrees of education, vast and diverse life experiences, are fiercely devoted to our families and friends, and have an insatiable desire to learn about, contribute to, and improve the world around us. So why not?

 What amazed me was how quickly the three of us fell into roles that seemed to fit our skills and personalities to a T!

 Linda is undoubtedly the scientist among us - quiet and reserved, she has the ability to size up a situation quickly, an eye for detail, and a determined stubbornness when it comes to preserving the environment and all creatures within it.

She easily gravitated toward taking the measurements and identifying the most minute evidence of disease.

Peg is a chatterbox - a warm, caring person with a heart as big as all outdoors and a fierce enthusiasm to throw herself whole-heartedly into any endeavor she is a part of. She became our recorder - rapidly filling in the blanks on the form as Linda called out the measurements and other details.

Innately honest, she is humorously quick to say "Wait, WAIT - I got that wrong. Let me correct it..."

or "Aaaaw, look at all the babies! I LOVE all these babies...!"

Meegan M. Reid for the Kitsap Sun

 

It's difficult to assess oneself, but I'd guess I fall somewhere between the other two personality-wise. A consummate photographer, I naturally fell into that role and have a million shots to prove it! I enjoy "belly biology" and always leave these excursions with at least one muddy knee...

That first night out we were optimistic because we found lots of adult sea stars that appeared fairly healthy and a great many juveniles.

Only a couple puzzled us a bit with their droopy or twisted arms, but as we were to learn, this was only a hint of the devastation to come...

We soon fell into a routine of visiting this site every two weeks or so. For several summers we had been hosting beach explorations at a state park not far from this private dock, so we began to unofficially monitor it also. We continued with our chosen roles, but found that we could easily switch tasks if we needed to when one of us was unable to come on a particular day.

Meegan M. Reid for the Kitsap Sun

 

Tides here vary with the seasons: winter low tides tend to be higher and often occur in the wee hours; summer low tides tend to be lower and may occur in the middle of the day or afternoon. Changing tides always present a challenge to intertidal sea life with the accompanying stress leaving them more vulnerable to disease. As the seasons progressed and the temperatures warmed, we began to see more and more sick seas stars.

First we would notice the unusual twisting of their arms,

then a gooey white appearance on their bodies,

and finally the total disintegration of their arms and central disks - it was devastating to observe...

In June, we were contacted by an environmental reporter for one of our local newspapers wanting to know if he could accompany us on one of our excursions to do a story on the study. As luck would have it, we all were witness that day to a huge die-off in our local area as dead and dying sea stars littered the site under the dock and at the state park. We had never seen anything like it.

Meegan M. Reid for the Kitsap Sun 

 

The reporter did a good job with the story and got his facts correct. Thanks to that coverage, we were better able to engage people we knew in conversation about this terrible disease. Although many people enjoy seeing our brightly-colored sea stars during low tides, not many really know much about these sea creatures.

The ochre/purple sea stars are what are known as a keystone species, which means that they have a disproportionately large effect on their environment relative to their abundance. These sea stars play a critical role in maintaining the structure of their ecological community, affecting many other organisms and helping to determine the types and numbers of various other species in the community.

These stars feed off of mussels and clams and we've heard local reports that there has now been an increase in these shellfish, but it remains to be seen what the overall effect might be in the future.

Finally, a researcher in Cornell’s College of Agriculture and Life Sciences has identified the deadly culprit as the Sea Star Associated Densovirus (SSaDV), a type of parvovirus commonly found in invertebrates. The study was published this Fall; according to Ian Hewson, associate professor of microbiology and lead author of the study “There are 10 million viruses in a drop of seawater, so discovering the virus associated with a marine disease can be like looking for a needle in a haystack. Not only is this an important discovery of a virus involved in a mass mortality of marine invertebrates, but this is also the first virus described in a sea star.” Although this discovery provides evidence for a link between a densovirus and sea star wasting syndrome, there is still much work to be done before this mysterious disease is fully understood. 

(For information on this study click HERE)

On another cold, dark night this January, we were again under the dock checking on "our" sea stars. Strange as it may seem to some, we've become somewhat attached to them and had not been to see them since early October. Back then we'd found around seven total, and not all looked well.

 We were pleasantly surprised by this most recent visit, as we counted around fifty or so and quite a few were juveniles. It's too early to be overly optimistic, however, as we still have another warm summer to get through which well may bring a recurrence of the virus. Only time will tell.

On our recent visit to the dock we knew there was supposed to be a spectacular display of the Quadrantid meteor shower. Unfortunately, we learned that the best viewing time was after midnight; the skies were cloudy and the moon nearly full, so meteors were not to be seen - in this part of the world, by us anyway.

It didn't really matter, because we only came to do our small bit to help these incredible creatures survive.

We have no idea where this will all lead - what other factors might influence the course of this disease, what other living things might be affected, how long the study might go on... We are ordinary people doing ordinary things hoping that we can make some difference.

Kitsap Memorial State Park 2012

 

What we do know is that all life is precious and that everything is connected. Whatever happens to one of us will affect the rest of us - whether we know or acknowledge it or not.

Kitsap Memorial State Park 2014

Cold, stiff, and odd as they may appear, we share a certain deep affection for and appreciation of these sea stars - and of each other.

We came to see if the stars were out, but really we found much more than that...

“Look down and you may miss a shooting star in the sky. Look up and you may miss a starfish in the sand. But quick, look straight ahead and tell me what is that big, blurry thing that’s so bright? Oh yeah, that’s my love for you.” ~ Jarod Kintz