Wood, stone, sand, moss.

An hour among the logs on the beach and dunes south of Oyster Bay, looking at shapes and textures. All the wood was damp; it doesn't get a chance to dry out these days. So browns are browner, blacks are blacker. And the moss is neon.

Roots on the beach. I wonder what the cut was for.

Roots on the dunes.

Flaky. Each layer forms one of the annual tree rings, cut horizontally.

Knot among beach stones.

Moss in the cracks, and a branch scar. The cracks would be vertical if the tree were standing.

Not the same log. The lump may have been a burl.

On the beach, the waves have tossed up a tangle of red alder branches with bull kelp.

And there were fun fungi, and lichens. Next.

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Pasé una hora dando vueltas entre las dunas al sur de Oyster Bay, mirando los troncos y palos dejados por las mareas y las tempestades, observando sus formas y texturas. La madera toda estaba húmeda; en estos dias no hay tiempo en que se puede secar. Así que los colores cafés son más intensos, los negros son más negros. Y el musgo brilla como si tuviera una luz por dentro.

1. Raices en la playa.
2. Raices entre las dunas.
3. Las capas anuales de la madera, desconectadas. En un corte horizontal en el árbol, formarán los anillos anuales.
4. Un nudo de madera entre las piedras en la playa.
5. Musgos en un tronco viejo, quemado. Las grietas correrían verticalmente en el árbol vivo.
6. Otro tronco parecido, con menos musgo. Con un nudo desgastado.
7. En la playa, las olas habían traído un enredo de ramas de aliso rojo con quelpo "toro" (Nereocystis luetkeana).

Y hubo hongos divertidos, y líquenes. Eso, mañana.

On the other hand ...

The large-headed sedge, Carex macrocephala, covers every open, sandy spot on the south end of the dunes at Oyster Bay. I usually stay well out of its territory; its greenish flowers borne on ankle-high stalks have no petals, just vicious spikes. Sharp spikes, painful to touch, even gently. Ripe, the brown perigynia (seed pods), are stiffer, and have teeth along the edges, helping them cling to your socks and pant legs. And the spikes are tougher, and as sharp as needles.

Carex macrocephala flowers.

But I have them to thank for the Savannah sparrows I saw among the logs and dune plants. Now, in the fall, the sedges have shed their perigynia and the wind has carried them to the previously "safe" trails across the dunes. One touched my foot — one touch is all it takes — and quickly wormed its way through the sock and into the shoe. It felt like walking on a glass splinter. I had to find a log and sit to take off my shoe and sock, find and remove the spike. A slow process; that barb wanted to stay put.

So I saw the birds. Sparrows and robins and juncos, mostly, flitting and hopping among the end-of-season, scruffy dune plants and grasses that fill the spaces between logs. When I cross the dunes on other days, always hurrying to get to the shore, the birds lay low until the invader has gone. Now they must have decided I was safe, and came out to play.

Still not camera-ready; active little birdies, they are.

Robin, grasses, and dried Queen Anne's lace. And logs.

Savannah sparrow, Passerculus sandwichensis. The weeds, I think, are dock.

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La juncia de cabeza grande, Carex macrocephala, llena cada espacio libre en el extremo al sur de las dunas de Oyster Bay. Normalmente, yo evito pasar por allí; es peligroso. Las flores verdes de esa juncia no tienen pétalos; en cambio, llevan espinas feroces. Espinas puntiagudas que lastiman con solo tocarlas. Y que se alzan a la altura de tus tobillos. Ya maduras, las periginias (vainas con semillas) son más tiesas, tienen dientes a lo largo de la vaina, lo que les ayuda agrarrarse de tus calcetines y tus pantalones. Y las espinas son más fuertes, y tan afiladas como agujas.

Foto: flores de Carex macrocephala.

Pero les tengo que agadecer por haberme permitido encontrar gorriones sabaneros entre los troncos y las plantas en las dunas. Ahora que estamos en otoño, las juncias han dejado caer sus periginias y el vienot las ha esparcido en los sitios que antes se consideraban "sin peligro". Una tocó mi pie — solamente se necesitó un contacto leve — y rapidamente penetró el calcetín y se metió dentro del zapato. Se sentía como si hubiera pisado una astilla de vidrio roto. Tuve que sentarme en un tronco y quitarme el zapato y calcetín para buscar y eliminar la espina. Tomó tiempo; esa espina no se quería desprender.

Y por eso vi los pajaritos. Gorriones y petirrojos y juncos, mayormente, saltando y volando entre los tallos de las plantas de las dunas, ya viejas, secas o llenas de semillas. Otras veces, cuando he cruzado las dunas, voy aprisa, queriendo llegar a la playa. Y los pájaros se esconden, esperando a que la invasora desaparezca. Esta vez, habrán tenido tiempo para decidir que yo no formaba ningún peligro, y por consiguiente, volvieron a sus actividades. 

No estaban, sin embargo, listos para permitir fotos: estos pajaritos viven a gran velocidad.

Fotos:

Un petirrojo, pastos y hierbas muertas de zanahoria silvestre. 

Gorrión sabanero. Las plantas, creo, son Rumex sp. 

Curly

 Lichen growing on a log:

Cladonia sp.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Liquen, Cladonia sp., en un tronco viejo.

Dune mushrooms

It's raining at least part of the day every day now. Mushroom season! These were on logs on the dunes around Oyster Bay.

On a well-rotted log, a brown umbrella.

These new mushrooms are brown, shapeless. But look at the over-ripe one! Greenish black, curled, gilled.

In hiding.

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En esta temporada, llueve casi todos los dias. Es temporada de hongos.

Estos crecen en troncos viejos en las dunas entre la playa y el bosque de Oyster Bay.

Unpredictable

Prickly. If I had to chose one word to describe the dry zone between the shore and the tree-and-grass line, prickly would have to be the one. It's a place where I walk carefully, watching where I step, occasionally stopping to knock spines out of my sandals, brush ants off my legs. It's where everything is hard-edged, sharp-pointed, splintery. Here, driftwood logs, tossed up long ago beyond the reach of all but the highest tides, slowly crumble into dust and slivers; small plants grow, dry out, twist, break, and die, leaving random sticks and straws helter-skelter.

It's a zone of fantastic shapes.

Log end, Oyster Bay Shoreline Park

Pixie-cup lichens along a crack in a log.

Typical mix: splinters, dead sticks, lichen, yarrow, peppergrass. And an old spike, part of an ancient, crumbling dock or float.

Large-headed sedge, Carex macrocephala. Even the leaf edges and tips are sharp. And the head is vicious!

More lichens.

And more. I have trouble making sense of this one. My eyes cross.

I just don't know... Book, as I found and left it, with an ant as only reader. Quote from the page: "... a place within the great scheme of things ..." "... unpredictable ..."

A few dune plants

The dunes above the beach on the west shore of Boundary Bay are half-wild, half tame gone feral. Logs and scraps of broken driftwood litter the sand, overrun with a tangle of native plants and lichens, but on the inner edge, bordering the last row of houses of Beach Grove, the home-owners have extended themselves beyond their walls, spreading chairs and hammocks, kayaks and abandoned toys well out into the sand. Some have blended their own garden plants in with the beach pea and sea rocket; here's a patch of purple and yellow irises, there's a couple of blue blossom shrubs, further along a mound of evergreen roses. Invasive Scotch broom rubs elbows with gumweed, heal-all, and nasturtiums.

Large-headed sedge, Carex macrocephalus. They grow best where the sand is driest.

Bee foraging in flowers. A garden escape, maybe?

Flowers, grasses, and ant.

"Garden" in a knothole.

Under the Scotch broom. I don't know what the white flowers are. The pinkish bits are purple dead-nettle.

I don't recognize this one. A garden escape, again?

The flowers, or maybe buds. I'll have to go back later to see what develops.

Shelter

It's been a tough winter out on the dunes, too dry for BC, the temperatures too changeable. But some lucky seeds will always find themselves a good microclimate.

Tiny plants in a crack of an old cedar log.

At home on shifting sand.

I'm still sorting photos from the last two weeks, going backwards in time, more or less. These are the remainder from the walk on the Boundary Bay shore dunes last week.

The dunes make up a large part of Boundary Bay Regional Park, and a narrow strip continues south to Beach Grove, separating the fenced residential area from the beach itself. In the park, we find scrubby brush, mosses and grasses, rabbits, wasps and dragonflies, and many birds, from the ever-present sparrows and crows to the osprey, hawks, and eagles that hunt overhead. On the strip along the waterfront, the trees and shrubs mostly disappear, giving way to large-headed sedge, beach pea, sea rocket, pale montia, red sorrel, more moss, and a variety of grasses.

Large-headed sedge, Carex macrocephala. This early in the year, the heads still show some green; later they will be a dark brown, stiff and scratchy.

Lupins are native to this area.  They like well-drained soil, and lots of sunshine, so they do well on the sandy foreshore. They are another pea, like the little (for now) lathyrus that are starting to bloom around this one's feet.

The climate on this spit of land dangling off the bottom edge of the Fraser delta is warm almost year-round, and most of the residents are enthusiastic gardeners. Most of the plants stay at home, but some find the shore too enticing to resist. They jump their fences and take to living wild.

A patch of irises establishing a beachhead. The whitish flowers in front are sea rocket.

Yellow iris. Going by the water droplets on the petals, a neighbour is encouraging it in its attempted takeover. The tall stem and berries are from an asparagus plant.

Not a welcome invader. Scotch broom, one of several thriving bushes. Another big patch is behind it, on the left.

While I sat on a log, waiting for Laurie to go back to the car to drop off his jacket, this little redhead came along to see if I had any crumbs. I left a bit of bread for him and his tribe.

Ant, sand, and sedge.

And on the sandy path back to civilization, we passed this swarm of tiny, tiny ants.

Part of the swarm

Zooming in. They were so active, and so small, that I could hardly distinguish one from the next. They seem to be quite long-waisted, and have a white stripe across the abdomen Could be Tetramorium, probably an import.

Homies and immigrants, country and city dwellers, working out a life together. Very Canadian.

Fabulous Flying Fairies

Beach peas are among my favourite flowers, and they're especially colorful at this time of year; later blooms are more pink than purple.

These are the first crop, already setting seed. No wonder they're so prolific!

Purple flowers, maroon buds, and red seed pods.

Buds and a curly tendril

These look like the backs of little flying women, each wearing a pink headscarf. Fairies, maybe?

Between town and shore

To the lonely sea and the sky . . . *

Path to the beach

Escaped from the garden, sharing the dunes with weeds and logs.

Somebody's beach shack, roofless

Motto over the door. Good reminder.

A Skywatch post.

*From Sea Fever, by John Masefield.