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Glover Conservation Easement:
53 Acres located along the
eastern shores of Henderson Inlet.
Protected with Conservation Easement in 1992. The
property consists of upland forest, fresh and salt water
wetlands, a riparian corridor, and a large agricultural
field. Approximately 25 acres of mixed woodlands
(Western Red Cedar, Douglas Fir and Bigleaf Maple) lies
adjacent to the road. The understory is a diverse mixture of shrubs (Snowberry,
Elderberry, Indian Plum) and herbaceous cover (Sword
Fern and Salal). The forested wetlands understory includes
Red Alder, Salmon Berry and Skunk Cabbage. Other flora
found adjacent to wetlands includes Western Red Cedar,
Slough Sedge, Soft Rush and Oregon Ash.
A four acre salt marsh is adjacent to extensive mud
flats and is frequented by numerous shorebirds. More than 100 species of
birds are believed to inhabit or visit this property.
Mammals include Black-tailed deer, Raccoon, Coyote, Red
fox, Pacific jumping mouse, River Otter and a variety of
bats.
Notes from the Field:
Harmony's Place
by Shelley Kirk Rudeen
(Summer 1995)
With the mercury at 98 degrees that July evening, I was grateful for the dim
canopy of upland forest to start my walk. I slipped downhill, past the
cedar swamp, and nodded toward Harmony Glover's home.
Her 50 acres on the east shore of Henderson Inlet was protected with a
conservation easement in 1991. Harmony Farm was a busy place that
evening, for the dry weather was just right for the flayers working
the north field. The farm is a blend of wildlife habitat and
agricultural areas. The two uses overlap where old orchards mix with native service
berry and Indian plum to create a tangle of fruits used by both human
and wildlife tenants of the farm. As if to prove it to me, a flock of
chestnut-backed chickadees arrived to forage in the apple trees,
hanging precariously from topmost branches to gather insects.
Despite the heat, I was drawn to mudflats fringing the extensive
shoreline. I crawled out on an old log to watch the incoming tide, and
reflected that undisturbed Puget Sound shoreline like this becomes
rarer every day.
The low bank is knit together by the roots of Douglas fir, cedar,
native roses, Oregon grape, and oceanspray. Pickleweed and fleshy
jaumea grow at the edge of the mudflats, where their succulent leaves
are inundated twice daily by the tides.
Although abundant flora dominates the shoreline view, scattered
dead and dying trees are perhaps the more significant features. Trees
edging shorelines such as these supply a regular source of woody
debris to the marine environment.
As dying trees lean over the water, they provide hunting perches for
eagles and kingfishers, and suitable wood for cavity nesting birds.
Fallen trees rest in the mudflats, often partially exposed even at
high tide.
Herons use the emergent wood to combine their daily chores of foraging
and resting, and they can extend their foraging beyond low tide by
standing on emergent wood when the water is too deep for wading. Other
water birds use this wood for resting as well.
Fallen wood eventually becomes the domain of barnacles, and
ultimately, wood borers. These borers degrade wood to a powder that
becomes part of the organic detritus at the base of the food chain in
these shallow bays. The shores of Harmony's place are constantly fed with
woody debris. I watched a kingfisher perch on one snag to eat its
dinner, noticed nesting holes in other snags, and wondered how long
some calf them would maintain their rakish angles before joining the
ancient logs scattered in the mudflats.
Nearby is a little inlet, which features a four acre salt marsh at its
innermost curve. I struck off around the edge and tangled with the
brambles of a Nootka rose.
Something moved in the branches, and a little black eye peered at me.
The yellow breast and olive back of a tiny bird told me it was a
female Wilson's warbler. She worked the thicket thoroughly, gleaning
insects from the foliage while she kept that wary eye on me until I
turned away.
Ahead, the silvery undersides calf Pacific silverweed were turned
upwards. An animal had meandered through the saltmarsh ahead of me and
disturbed the foliage, but left no clues as to its identity. Perhaps
the warbler knew, but I had no way to ask.
The tide rose imperceptibly; mirrored shoreline vegetation replaced
opaque mudflats. Two spotted sandpipers teetered and nodded in an
ever-narrowing band of mud, searching for tasty crustaceans. The water
rose to lick the curved edge of saltmarsh grasses.
Perpetually grey green with its twice daily taste of salt, the edge
contrasted with the richer hues of pickleweed, Douglas aster, and
rushes behind it.
Time and tide finally forced the sandpipers to fly. I left too,
marveling at the abundance of life nestled there on Henderson Inlet.
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