Boren Park: Field Sketches - Journal Entry 2

#3 Memory Sketch (***CORRECTION: Giant Horse Tail NOT Scouring-Rush)

# 4 Contour Sketch (***CORRECTION: Giant Horse Tail NOT Scouring-Rush)

# 5 Quick Gesture Sketch (***CORRECTION: Giant Horse Tail NOT Scouring-Rush)

# 6 Diagrammatic Drawing (***CORRECTION: Giant Horse Tail NOT Scouring-Rush)

# 7 Experimenting with the pencil line (***CORRECTION: Giant Horse Tail NOT Scouring-Rush)

# 8 The Study Drawing (***CORRECTION: Giant Horse Tail NOT Scouring-Rush)

Dull Oregon Grape Sketch

Unknown Leaf Sketch (possibly Red Alder)

Sword Fern Leaf Sketch

Observations of Boren Park: A Sensory Experience - Journal Entry 2

It’s October 14^th, 2015 at about 3:50 in the afternoon and I have returned to Boren Park to continue my project.  The sun shines brightly in all its glory with crepuscular-like rays beaming through the forest.  As I walk along the hiking path toward my observation point I start to feel chilly.  Instinctually I pull out my iPhone and check the temperature via my weather App.  Quickly, I am reminded that Seattle’s official temperature is recorded out of Sea-Tac airport and therefore the 69 degree temperature could not be what I was feeling in the woods of Boren Park at that moment.   As I arrive at my observation point I pull out my trusty digital thermometer and begin to take a temperature reading.   After a few minutes, it shows that the actual temperature of my location happens to be a crisp 57 degrees.  Under the partial shade of the canopy there is a twelve degree temperature difference. 

                Looking around at my observation site, I immediately take notice of the increase in yellow and brown leaf litter which how begins to pile up on top of everything.  No doubt this mess of leaves was unceremoniously dropped by the stand of big leaf maple trees that tower over me.   I also notice that horsetails have begun to proliferate everywhere in the park.  As we learned in Ravenna Park yesterday that horsetails do very well in wet water logged soils.  Boren Park sits inside a ravine on the side northeast slope of Capitol Hill.  The area is known to be prone to landslides which would also explain why Boren Park is always more moist and humid than the surrounding neighborhood.

                As I wrap up my observations for this week’s assignment I take a moment to be still and listen to the faint song of the woods.  For some reason the city seems louder today.  I can barely make out the three distance bird calls echoing through the park.   A jet plane roars overhead, while an ambulance or possibly a firetruck can be heard somewhere in the distance.  The city is so loud  that I can barely discern the rustling sound that squirrels’ make as they hastily move through  the woods  in preparation for  their long winter’s  nap.  As I walk about the park, I notice a sign that for some reason I did not take notice of before.  The sign says WARNING, do not enter, TRAIL CLOSED.  Needless to say I see many runners and walkers moving through this park so clearly nobody has noticed or cared to obey the sign.  I will investigate why this trail might be closed.  I suspect it may have to do with a potential landslide.  More is to come next week.  Stay tuned.       

Boren Park: Photos of Park Flora - Journal Entry 1

Pacific Madrone (Arbutus menziesii)

Sword Fern (Polystichum munitum)

Oregon Grape (Mahonia nervosa)

Trailing Blackberry (Rubus ursinus)

Photos taken on October 6th, 2015 are of a few specific plants I could easily identify. 

Boren Park: Up Close - Journal Entry 1

View From Observation Point

Taking a closer look at Boren Park this photo was taken on October 6, 2015.

Boren Park: Landscape Photo - Journal Entry 1

View From Observation Point

Seeking a bigger picture of Boren Park this landscape photo was taken on October 6, 2015.  

Observations of Boren Park: A Sensory Experience - Journal Entry 1

It’s October 6th, 2015 at 4:23pm and I am walking through a wooded ravine at Boren Park which is just one of the many urban forest in Seattle.  As I look up through the canopy mosaic of color changing leaves I can see the skies are overcast with low hanging clouds.  I gaze down at my digital thermometer and notice that the temperature is 60 degrees.  A slight chill comes over me as an ethereal breeze moves through the woods causing a few yellow and red leaves from high in the trees to gently float to the forest floor.  There is no denying that our hot summer is just a memory and that we and the forest welcome the cooler temperatures of a Pacific Northwest autumn. 

As I continued my stroll along the park trail I felt a drop of water land on my head which heralded a tiny refreshing rain shower.  I stopped where I was and lifted my hoodie to shield me from the falling drops of cold rain.   This micro-sized rain shower seemed to be localized to my part of the forest and only lasted for a moment.  While standing in that spot I noticed I had stepped onto a hard surface.  It was a piece of concrete embedded in the middle trail at the center of the park.  It almost appears that this random solitary rock is meant to be some kind of guide post.  In some way that piece of manufactured stone spoke to me and said, “This is the spot”.  Having received inspiration from the concrete I decided to make it my observation platform for the duration of this assignment.   

Looking down at my feet I notice the dirt trail is narrow, windy and well worn.  Along the trail I can see signs of some human activity in the form forgotten expensive metal water bottle and plant flagging attached to some Oregon grape indicating that the area near the trail has undergone environmental restoration recently.  While standing very still a black finch decides to land on a branch of a nearby cedar tree.  I attempted to take the small bird’s picture but despite my concerted effort to move my camera into position slowly, it took flight before I could click the button.

As I visually scan my surroundings I take notice that although the deciduous trees are in the process of color change and some plants have turned brown and died there is still abundant greenery.  I see a snag being consumed by English ivy and aerial roots hang from the high branches of a tree descending all the way to the ground.  I hear the roar of an airplane overhead that manages to only briefly drown out the energetic songs of several birds nearby.  The air feels heavy and humid and reeks of the wonderful scent of decomposing wood. 

Tucked away in the northeast corner of Capitol Hill, Boren Park is more than an urban forest its little slice of paradise that is close to home.    

My Formative Nature Experience - Journal Entry 1

When I was very young I grew up in a little town in the middle of Texas called Abilene.  This average and ordinary place although wholesome was far removed from everything with the exception of endless prairie.  All of the time I lived in Abilene I never became inspired by the flat expanse of central Texas.  I was never drawn in to experience it because I, foolishly, thought it was a barren and desolate place that was not worth knowing.  The closest I got to nature in those days was the manicured lawn and trees of my moderately sized back yard.  However, my uninspired youth was about to be turned on its head.  As fate would have it, my father got a job with Boeing in Everett and we left Texas behind when I was fourteen.   Nevertheless, even though we had just moved to one of the most beautiful places on the planet, I was still not yet ready to embrace the natural world. 

After finishing high school, I began to go on day hiking trips with friends along old logging trails east of Monroe along Highway 2.  Back then, those trips ended up being nightmares because I seemed to be bothered by everything and worried something was going to jump out and eat me.  Needless to say those hikes did little to improve my acceptance of nature in all of its forms, but a few years later I found myself dating a guy who was really into hiking and backpacking.  Since I was really into him I had to make a choice.  Would I let my discomfort and fear keep me from enjoying the wonders of forest and jeopardize my relationship or would I buck up and overcome my fears and discomfort and go into wilderness to enjoy nature with him.  I chose the latter.

After few years of frequent successful and enjoyable day hikes with my boyfriend, I seemed to get over my fears and issues with the woods.  Wanting to challenge ourselves we decided to go with some experienced backpacker friends to Grace Lake (47.693044, -120.939512).   It’s a little known alpine lake, about 6000 feet up, located just north of Snowgrass Mountain in western Chelan County. 

 My experience at Grace Lake changed my life forever.   It was a grueling hike for me but I persevered.   Up there I found strength, learned a few survival skills and almost fell off a cliff.  I saw the most breath taking sunset from on top of the world and watched as clouds rolled in over the mountains like flowing water.  I even learned that I am more capable than I thought and that I should believe more in myself.   Not to mention I properly pooped in a hole I dug by myself.  Simply put, I rediscovered myself at 6000 feet.   

After my experience at Grace Lake, I returned two more times.  Each time I went back I learned new things about nature and myself.  Grace Lake is where I decided that I would dedicate myself to the environment which in turn has led me to my current path at the University of Washington and the Environmental Studies program.