"Birds do it. Bees do it. Even uneducated fleas do it.”

I’ve spent a lot of time outdoors, in parks and nature preserves. I’ve camped in wilderness areas with no roads, trails, or cell service. I’ve watched wildlife from boats, planes, vehicles and on foot, and I’ve witnessed some incredible sights. But this week I had a most amazing wildlife encounter, ranking up there with the top ten in a long life of outdoor experience. And it was in a friend’s backyard right here on Whidbey Island.

They were away and I was asked to water some newly planted trees at the edge of their yard. As I was following the hose out into the woods, I saw an interesting ornament. These friends have odds and ends around their yard, bird baths, pottery, a fancy wood stove door, so as I noticed it, I thought it was a piece of artwork hanging from a branch. But then I did a double take. It was moving. It was shiny. It was alive!

There, dangling from a thread of slime, were two (or three) slugs spiraling around each other with a flowery fluff of egg goop hanging below them. I took a photo and then squatted down to watch. Their slow motion love making was so intriguing I took a video. Okay, it sounds a bit voyeuristic, but they didn’t seem to mind. Totally uninhibited they swirled around each other, smooth and sensual, they continually morphed into different shapes suspended two feet off the ground and two feet from the branch above. Slug de Soleil!

I used to be an educator in Olympic National Park and I’d give evening programs on slug sex (adults only). I’ve read how they leave a certain “come hither” pheromone in their slime trail to attract a mate, and when another slug crosses that trail, they turn and follow. It may take days for the two slugs to come together. Slugs are not gay, straight, or trans. They're hermaphroditic, possessing both male and female organs, so they can mate with any other slug that comes along. (Or they can even mate with themselves.)  I’ve seen how they form a Yin Yang symbol with their eggs in a slimy soup between them. The eggs can be tucked into a stump or under a log and stay for months until conditions are right before the eggs hatch into baby slugs. But all this was on the ground.

I thought about other wildlife I’d seen “in the act”. I’ve watched female salmon digging a redd by madly swishing in a gravel streambed while her suitors vie for position to fertilize her eggs. I’ve watched through binoculars at Mount St. Helens as two bull elk, with impressive antlers, smashed their heads together battling over a harem of females who were tip toeing away. I’ve seen moose mating, while I hid behind a sturdy tree in Yellowstone. I’ve watched eagles in awe as they mate in mid-air, locking their talons and tumbling toward the ground only to separate at the last minute before impact. But I’ve never seen anything so sensual as these slugs, doing their amazing dance while dangling by a thread in my friend’s backyard.

To watch a brief video of this magical event click here.
For more details about the kinky goings on in your own backyard, click here.

Maribeth

We were meeting on the deck at Jen’s house, talking animatedly about our experiences leading walks and teaching school kids on Land Trust properties this spring, when I noticed a swirl of big birds silhouetted in the sky. “Look at that!” I said. All eyes turned up as more birds approached in a V. Forty or fifty sets of wings circled overhead. As they banked in the sun, they shimmered white. “Pelicans!” We gaped in awe.

After our meeting I drove across the road to Deer Lagoon. I didn’t have my binoculars or camera, just my phone. I’d been going to a meeting, not on a hike, but I should have planned to come here afterward and brought my visual aids.

Starting on the trail my progress was stalled by the bird calls coming from every direction. Wrens, warblers, woodpeckers, sparrows, swallows, blackbirds and cedar waxwings, another of my favorites. This is a designated Important Bird Area and it was obvious why. After a pause, I continued on.

The marsh wren fussed at the first bend. I spied a nest in the reeds just above the water. Mother wren slipped in from underneath, quiet and secretive. But once she was a few feet away, she resumed her bossy squawking. So feisty!

A couple of dozen pelicans were settled on a distant sand bar, too far for phone cameras, Another dozen pelicans or so were in a feeding frenzy close to the dike. They didn’t seem to mind when people stopped to point and stare. Such a fascinating bird with it's nine foot wingspan and orange shopping bag beak.

I met Toni and Carlos Andersen who live nearby and have become advocates for the preservation of Deer Lagoon. I recognized Carlos from a talk he gave at a Whidbey Audubon meeting. He let me look through his spotting scope. They were well equipped, unlike myself.

The conversation soon turned to the upcoming holiday, or horror day, depending on your perspective. For many it will be a great celebration of the nation’s 250th anniversary. For wildlife it will cause stress and confusion. Carlos told me last year on July 4th the beach front homes shot off their fireworks, illegally, terrifying the pelicans and other birds. Instead of roosting peacefully, they were up flying around in circles near midnight, traumatized.

Anyone who has a pet will share stories of their reaction to the POPs, POWs and BANGs, flashing lights and screaming whistles. My dog, who sleeps in the kitchen, was so stressed out she had diarrhea all over the kitchen floor. And what about wild animals, the deer with their new fawns that frequent my yard? Or combat veterans, or refugees with PTSD? What’s it like for them? Not to mention the litter on the beach, in the water, and smoldering bonfires left unattended surrounded by dry fields and forests.

It wouldn’t be so bad if the fireworks displays were limited to professional shows at a city park where the explosives are managed safely, legally, and only for an hour or so. But Whidbey attracts people from other counties where fireworks are banned. It seems every beachfront community has a competition among their neighbors to see who has the most outrageous exhibition. They begin a week beforehand and continue for a week after. Say goodbye to a good night’s sleep for the duration.

It's not just visitors who like explosives. Last week I saw fire trucks race by. The valley filled with smoke. A few miles away a house blew up and took half their neighbor’s house with it. Three firefighters were injured. People lost their homes. They reported 700 pounds of fireworks were inside. Last year a similar incident happened near Strawberry Point.  

Let’s find a better way to celebrate. Enjoy a barbeque, music and dancing. But please, stay safe and sane this year.

Maribeth

For information about a vote to ban consumer fireworks in Island County click here.

For decades I’ve lived just across the border. I’ve visited by bike and boat several times but only got as far as Duncan or Sooke. So last week, I drove my camper van across the 49th parallel, hopped on a boat and drove to the far end of Vancouver Island, an international trip without the hassle of airports and jet lag.

From Tsawwassen to Nanaimo the ferry passed red roofed lighthouses, bright blue water and a tug hauling a raft of logs. I drove north to Campbell River and stayed at the Elk Falls campground. After a quiet night I spent the morning hiking the trails to the suspension bridge looking over the falls. A river otter played far below as I chatted with a local couple. They told me of their favorite campsites by small lakes further north, free if you can find them down the rugged forest service roads. I found a campsite at Woss Lake after asking for directions a few times. The mirror-like water was disturbed only by a pair of Canada geese with their chicks paddling by.

The next morning, I made my way north to Telegraph Cove where I’d scheduled a half day kayak trip along the shores of Johnstone Strait. Marine mammals are frequently seen along this narrow bottleneck of channels. A kayak guide came in reporting a Humpback whale and dolphins. Our small group were closely followed by some bellowing sea lions. Later we saw a black bear on the beach. On our way back our guide played a modified bull kelp like a trumpet.

Northern Vancouver Island is wild with wolves, cougars and grizzly bears. It reminded me of southeast Alaska, and Telegraph Cove reminded me of Ketchikan, built along a boardwalk. Last year a devastating fire burned part of the boardwalk and several structures including the whale museum that held a collection of marine mammal skeletons. The marina, hotel, café and general store are functioning, but the museum has a ways to go.

Nearby Alder Bay has campsites with showers, laundry, a food truck and WiFi. It was early in the season and plenty of sites were available right off the water. In the morning I was walking on the dock. The water was glassy calm, not a whisper of wind in the trees. From across the channel I heard a blow. Looking up, a large dorsal fin cut through the spray. I watched and waited but didn’t see or hear anything else. That’s the only time I’ve ever seen just one Orca by itself.

Turning south, I backtracked to Strathcona Provincial Park in the middle of the island. I’d heard about the Strathcona Lodge, an outdoor education center, much like one where I used to work in Olympic National Park. I got there just after their last school group had left so they gave me permission to poke around. There were cabins, hotel rooms, a café, meeting rooms, a sauna, kayaks and canoes right on Campbell Lake. The views were spectacular.

Highway 28 cuts west through the middle of the island passing waterfalls, lakes and mountains. I saw a bull elk, and later, a herd of females scattered across a field. I camped at Buttle Lake where every site was taken due to a fishing derby. The willowy lakeshore was well stocked with warblers, wrens and woodpeckers.

Continuing west I drove to Gold River where the road meets the end of a long inlet. The sun came out and the mountain mist rose up into blue sky. A bear crossed the road and headed into the trees. Rafts of logs floated on one side, and on the other, a float plane landed. A woman and her dog came out to meet it and told me it’s the mail plane. They’ll take passengers for $250 and you could visit all the small villages as the plane drops off their mail. Or you could board the MV Uchuck III, a boat that makes stops at those same villages and sometimes takes kayakers and drops them off for them to make their way back along this convoluted coastline. Something to consider for my next trip.

Friends from Pender Island invited me to camp with them on Galiano Island, so I headed south to Quilicum First Nations campground near Parksville. After a hot shower and quiet night on the water, I went Island hopping from Vancouver to Salt Spring and on to Galiano (3 ferry rides). Emily and Roger led me to some incredible ridges with great views of the southern Gulf Islands. We watched the BC ferries do their slow dance between the harbors with eagles flying by at eye level. One night we sat in their camper with soup and maps and shared stories of kayak trips, hikes and campouts.

It rained all night. In the morning I went out early for a bird walk around Montague Harbour. There were ravens calling, boats anchored out and calm water. When I rounded the point, I heard a blow. Then another. I turned toward the harbor and there among the anchored boats was a pod of Orca! I texted Emily and Roger. They got to the beach just as the whales were leaving. Their exit brought them within a few yards of us standing on shore. What a way to start a day! What a way to end a trip! We all looked at each other and thought, “We are so blessed to live here.”

Maribeth

We’ve got it bad, spring fever. Even if the clouds close in and a chill wind brings sprinkles, we’d all rather be outside than in. More green time, less screen time.
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The Whidbey Camano Land Trust started offering field trips for elementary school students last year and already we’re in high demand. I volunteer with some excellent educators, people with decades of experience engaging groups of kids in a positive and safe way which allows them to explore the environment, absorb mind blowing ecological concepts, build on their growing knowledge of natural systems, and go home with new friends and a familiarity with these beautiful land trust preserves. Our enthusiastic coordinator, Andi Kopit, with assistance from Ashley and others on the WCLT staff, organize and support us.  It’s a joy to volunteer with a group that's so conscientious and prepared.

At the Keystone Preserve and Admiralty Inlet Preserve, I led activities about wildlife habitats. The groups set out to find colored cards that represented Food, Water and Shelter, on a short stretch of trail. On the first round some came back with plenty of colored cards, so they survived. The ones who didn’t find enough, died, but they got to hide the cards for the next round.

Before we started round two, a boy asked if he and his friend could hunt for cards together. I said, "If you can name an animal that hunts cooperatively, yes." I could see the wheels turning as all the students tried to think of examples. Wolves! Orcas! Bees! There was some discussion and then they took off collecting cards again. Fewer searchers with the same number of cards meant better results. The take away? Wildlife populations surge and decline depending on the resources available. How might preserving and connecting these natural areas impact wildlife on Whidbey Island?

Another station involved searching for aquatic bugs, in a small stream and examining them under a microscope. The types of bugs indicate the quality of the water. One group learned about the First Nations people that have stewarded these lands since the last ice age. And another station got the kids involved in a prairie restoration project. 

Last week, Ann Linnea and I worked together at Admiralty Inlet Preserve with 4th graders who stayed overnight at Camp Casey. Their energy lagged considerably after a noisy night in the bunkhouses, but Ann showed great patience and persistence, expertly making her point at each stop on our walk.

At the last stop, gazing up into the branches of an old growth grandmother tree, Ann got the group into a circle with elbows touching. She discussed how old trees passed nutrients to all the other trees around her through intricate underground root systems. She elbowed the child next to her, and they passed it on to the next, and the next, all the way around the circle to illustrate that forest plants cooperate, as well as compete, for resources.

On our way back to the trailhead, she was astonished when one of the students sincerely thanked her for doing this. It’s always interesting to talk with individual kids, and this was especially touching for Ann. Most of the parents and teachers that come along seem to get as much out of it as the kids. We’re grateful knowing we absolutely could not do this without them.

One day, I had six groups rotating through my learning station at Admiralty Inlet Preserve. I asked each group to be silent for ten seconds (which seems like an eternity to kids outside). I asked them to point to the sounds they heard, birds, waves, the wind. The music of the forest rose up around us like a shimmering green veil. The children listened. To witness this magic can be exciting, heart warming, life changing. We hope all of our students go home with an incurable case of spring fever.

Maribeth

“Children are born with a sense of wonder and an affinity for nature. Properly cultivated, these values can mature into ecological literacy, and eventually, into sustainable patterns of living.”
Zenobia Barlow

To find out about volunteering, exploring or supporting the Whidbey Camano Land Trust click here.

Special Note: South Whidbey Elementary School Principal, Susie Richards, is retiring this year. She’s been a lifelong advocate for outdoor education. At a time when funds are being cut for these experiences, Susie somehow finds a way to get her students outside for immersion in the natural world. Our community has been blessed by the efforts of Susie and her staff. Thank you Susie!