Journal Entry 4

Time: Tuesday, November 3rd, from 12-1 pm

Location: The far eastern portion of Ravenna Park in Seattle, WA. 

Temperature: ~50℉

Weather: Pelting rain and overcast skies.

This journal post will focus less upon the more scientific approach I have used up to this point. Today I will instead use a more artistic approach to my observation site, with the inclusion of a narrative poem, emotional description, and other such things. In addition to this I will make some brief comments upon the changes I have observed at my site, not so much to fulfill grading requirements but to make a record for later, lest I somehow forget or lose the pictures. For now I will post some of the pictures I took at my observation site that day. 

First 50 m^2 shot. Further yellowing of the Black Cottonwoods in the background, and further leaf loss from the largely bare Red Alders. The Beaked Hazelnuts still retain some of their greener leaves, being seen as the greener trees in this shot.

First 1 m^2 shot. Loss of mushrooms, but largely the same from last week.

Second 1 m^2 shot. More leaves from the Red Alder and Bigleaf Maple on the ground.

50 m^2 shot of the upstream waterfall. You can see the Vine Maples turning yellow to the left of the shot.

It was raining pretty heavily that day and the stream broke its banks. The log in the middle of the shot is the usual stream bank.

1) Poem

A rainy day in Ravenna Park

Walking weary

Winding though wood

The rough ravine

In Ravenna park

Contains creek bed,

Cascading wet.

Water warbles

Winding though water-road.

 

Wandering way

Walking down ravine wall,

Rain ramming

Umbrella roof.

Soggy streambank

Seizes my shoes,

The sky showers

Sheets of rain.

 

The Beaked Hazelnut,

The Red Alder,

Black Cottonwood,

Western Redcedar,

All sentinels of the Earth,

Bane of the stream.

 

The stream is hungry,

Devouring even.

The stream’s waters

Bolstered by the sky.

The water flows and devours,

Submerging all not held fast,

The rocks, the logs, the vegetation,

The means by which the earth is held

 

Thimbleberry,

Salmonberries,

Snowberries,

All those other berries that I care particularly less about,

All are present in holding the earth,

Holding back the water

 

The rushing waterfall,

Upstream, blanketed with Vine Maples,

Is roaring with extra vigor

The rain beats not only on my umbrella

But also on the stream surface

The area rapidly turned to mud

 

My seeing spot is flooded,

Water has overtaken soil,

Only my sitting-rock remains

Sopping wet and moss-covered.

My bottom is now as wet as the rock,

And so are the rest of my clothes

My umbrella barely keeps my bag dry

Or at the very least less wet.

 

Red Alder leaves,

Dead on branches,

Fall down like brown snow,

Dislodged by watery sky-assault.

My umbrella is trembling,

My partner is barely keeping it aloft

He complains loudly about the rain

At least he has actual rain boots

 

A thick permanence of water hangs in the air,

The air smells fresh and earthy

I write quickly

Eager to rid myself of this place

It is election day

I am not eager to linger outside

My partner wishes to sit down

I try to do my best to finish

 

After this period of watery accostment

I take what I need of this place

Pictures, scribbles in my journal

Memories for later

I trudge out of the park,

Covered in earth and water

As soon as I leave,

The rain stops

 

I was thoroughly annoyed. 

2) Practicing Gratitude

When I was at my observation site yesterday I wrote down this sentence whilst I was getting drenched in the rain: "For supporting me to live, I give thanks to the very stone I currently sit upon." Now, one may think it is silly that I give thanks to a rock. However, at that very moment, when I was getting drenched and I was practically sitting in the stream due to the recent rains, a good, solid rock to sit on, as opposed to the mud, is one of the greatest things in the world. A solid, dry rock would have been even better, but beggars can't be choosers. 

3) Describe what was sensed and experienced

When I was sitting down on that rock halfway in the stream, my boots and bottom soaked thoroughly and the rain beating on my umbrella with a roar, one of the plants I noted in my journal that I was, in particular, grateful for was the Beaked Hazelnut. This was not so much due to the Beaked Hazelnut providing cover from the rain, but rather due to the Beaked Hazelnut being a major reason why the path to my observation site was accessible at all. Water flowed over the banks of the river, which were largely delineated by fallen logs that had been placed on the shore as a measure to reduce erosion. This overflowing of the stream caused much of my point bar to become flooded at worse and a mud pit at best. I was also able to reach this site due to some Beaked Hazelnuts holding in a little patch of unflooded earth for me to walk upon so that I could access my site. Whilst sitting at my site, on that boulder I mentioned earlier, I had by partner with me. He squatted down right next to me and held an umbrella over the two of us so that I could write. The rain pelted down in thick sheets, soaking us both despite the umbrella. The stream was visibly swollen, and the rain caused the previously tame waterfall upstream to rage with an increased intensity and volume. The sound of the rain beating the surface of the water created a drone that eventually became background noise, not unlike a fan in a room. It was raining so hard that dead, brown leaves off of some of the nearby Red Alder leaves detached and fell down in a thick brown snow of leaves and debris. I even found some extra Red Alder strobiles that had come off and had landed on the top of our umbrella! The mud grabbed onto my boots even though I was sitting down, requiring the aid of my partner to pull me out with a loud and satisfying noise that sounded like flatulence; honestly the mud felt like quicksand, and I felt very small under that umbrella; I was concerned that it would somehow break due to the ferocity of the rainstorm. At least the rain gave everything a fresh and clean smell, somewhat like cut grass but also earthy somehow. Other species that I noted were the Vine Maples by the waterfall; by this time their little seven-lobed leaves had begun to turn yellow and brown. These vine maples helped preserve the integrity of the soil on either side of the waterfall, their bases soaked with water. Other species near the stream that helped control erosion were some Western Redcedars and some Black Cottonwoods; both of these species held together the water-laden hills further up from the stream bank. The Black Cottonwoods had begun to turn yellow and loose their leaves, whilst the Beaked Hazelnuts still retained most of their leaves; the Western Redcedars were green as always, as were the Thimbleberries, Salmonberries and Snowberries, all of which also helped control erosion and add visual flair to the area. After the two of us left the site the constant pattering drone of the rain stopped; had I known this would happen, I would have gone out later for my observations!

4) Interpretations

Some of the larger emotions that were evoked during my time at the observation site were that of discomfort, obviously, but also of elation. It felt good almost to be doing productive work in such unfavorable circumstances, that it was still possible to succeed in the face of adversity. I guess succeeding at something is more rewarding when one has to face adversity beforehand; it makes the fruit of one's labors even more sweet. It also was exciting due to this being an experience where I could show off to my partner. He complained a good deal, but I suppose that I, by not verbally complaining, seemed to be somewhat stoic and impressive in comparison, or at least that is what he imparted onto me. It was a nice bonding experience I would say. It reminded me of my days in the boy scouts, but also off my time doing observations last year for my Environmental Science class at community college before COVID. Isolated with my partner in the woods, it was possible to remove my mask and wander freely, if only to pretend that everything was fine, even if such a fantasy could be entertained on a muddy creek bank. I rather miss my time at community college and lament how I wasn't able to finish there in person like I had planned. I had planned on doing botany over the summer, and I suppose identifying plants in the woods for this class is the closest I will ever come to that reality. In other words, my time at Ravenna reminded me of a better time in my life, and I would say everyone's lives before the pandemic, and brought up emotions from those times. I would say that my time at Ravenna also taught me the value of a trusted partner in doing one's work, as well as how I seem to have a penchant for putting myself into unpleasant circumstances. I always seem to seek out hardship when it is completely unnecessary, such as choosing to do observations in a rainstorm and sitting casually as I get pelted with water. If I had to guess it is due to me trying to test myself, that being part of why I transferred here in the first place. I also saw firsthand the importance of waterway vegetation in controlling erosion, in part due to my sitting spot not having vegetation; sitting in a washed out stream bank is not fun. I have also come to learn about and appreciate the riparian species in our woods, such as the Vine Maple and the Black Cottonwood, both of which are growing on me; please don't crucify me for that pun. Before this class I did not even know what a Vine Maple was; now it is one of my favorite maples. This exercise in particular made me appreciate how Vine Maples control erosion on stream banks, as well as how all of the different plant species work together to create this unique environment in the Pacific Northwest. This exercise also taught me the inherit beauty in things; even if everything is covered in mud, there are still things to appreciate about how the natural world, and things in general, work.

5) How has this exercise differed from the more scientific approaches we have taken so far?

I would say that this exercise differed from the more scientific approaches taken so far in regards to how I actually processed my environment. I honestly feel that I actually absorbed the whole experience of being in the woods without feeling pressured to meet specific targets, such as finding a set amount of fungi or by drawing a certain number of drawings. I was largely free to take things at my own pace and have a bit more freedom in how I actually conducted by observations. Things that I found significant I noted; other things I did not notice, such as the fungus. Have I mentioned how much I dislike categorizing fungus? I don't like going into the woods with a checklist, or at least a checklist that is not of my own making. I guess what I am trying to say is that I enjoyed the freedom and lack of constraints on a recreational level. On the more informational level I would say I noticed different things, not so much fewer things, with this less scientific approach. I paid more attention to the dynamics of the forest and how all of the parts formulate a complete whole as opposed to focusing on a specific thing, such as shrub species or fungus. The information was more shallow and broad as opposed to more narrow and deep, as one would say. I would say, though, that both perspectives are needed to create a holistic body of knowledge, and just observing nature without a specific goal can yield questions for scientific examination. For instance, it was just today that I noticed how most of the Red Alder leaves to fall were green and the ones still on the trees were brown, falling with the rainstorm. Prior to this I noticed ground cover, and I noticed plant species, but I did not fully realize the dynamics of Red Alder leaves falling primarily when they are green, with the brown leaves on the trees being the exception that I noticed. In short, a less scientific and broader approach to observations yields less specific and more general knowledge that can be elaborated upon later. It also helps to become attached to your site and to actually admire it for what it is, helping in terms of motivation and striving to understand the true workings of a site. If one only follows specific goals they will find both a lack of motivation and a lack of further goals without stepping back and looking at the whole to both admire it and to ask questions of it; that is the value of an emotional look at nature.