|
Howe Conservation Easement:
10 Acres located
along Henderson
Inlet and Dobbs Inlet.
Protected with Conservation Easement in 1997.
There
are three dominant land forms that define the Howe
property:
5 acres of historic grazed pasture, 4 acres of forest
slope and the remaining property consists of tidal
mudflats. The tree populations consist of primarily Red
Alder, Bigleaf Maple and Douglas Fir with an occasional
Western Red Cedar.
Blackberry and Nettles are prolific. Evidence of owl
and Pileated Woodpecker has been observed.
Notes from the Field:
Howe Easement
by Shelley Kirk Rudeen
(Issue 25 Fall 1997)
Early morning sun burnishes the wing strokes of a
flock of Canada geese. Their honking heralds my arrival at a small
meadow festooned with the giddy weavings of a thousand spiders. Before
me lies the childhood haunt of Charles Howe and Eleanor Long, who have
protected this corner of Henderson Inlet with a conservation easement
in memory of their parents. I make my way across the meadow, and enter
a shadowed forest. Great boughs droop from cedar trees and the trunks
of fir and maple soar into the forest canopy. Beyond, I glimpse Dobbs
Creek wandering over mudflats exposed by low tide. Salmonberry and
devils club choke a wide depression in the forest and rich black mud
forces a detour in my path. The depression and the mud cradle a
spring; just downhill the mud releases its moisture in little rills
that gather in a small stream spilling to the bay. The stream carves a
sinuous path through mudflats, until its fresh water meets the salt of
the turning tide. It's an understated meeting, but one of great
significance, for the convergence of fine organic forest material
carried by streams and the nutrients flowing with the incoming tide
creates the estuary - a habitat nearly unrivaled for productivity.
The mudflats of this estuary create a shining
expanse when the tide empties Henderson Inlet and the mouth of Dobbs
Creek. I cannot see the abundance of life in the mud - the mollusks
and worms, or the microbes feeding on decaying organic matter. But I
know it's there, for shorebirds comb the mud with their beaks while
mallards and green-winged teals dabble along the edges. Seven
double-crested cormorants stand at water's edge with beaks tilted up
and wings spread to dry. Another dives in the shallow waters of the
bay for the small fish that thrive in plankton-rich water. The rising
tide slips across the flats, rearranging muddy expanses into ever
smaller shapes. A flock of bufflehead sails by; I watch their striking
black and white forms and then turn away from the inlet. Madrone trees
add their sculpted forms to the forest, and a large bitter cherry
towers near the western shore. Beneath it a host of young cherries
form a moss-floored glade, like a secret opening in the tangle of
undergrowth. Kinglets and song sparrows chatter among the branches,
but they are mere echoes of the bird life that abounds here during
nesting season.
A second depression holds another spring, and a
slightly larger stream flows to the bay. A hollow maple stands on the
bank, its huge cavity filled with the dusky ruffles of a mushroom
colony and the earthy scent of slowly rotting wood. It won't be long
before the tree topples and adds its bulk to the other woody debris on
this wild bit of shore.
I know baseline studies have documented the value of
this property for wildlife. But how do you measure the ambiguities of
mud slumping in spring-fed depressions in the forest and basking under
open skies in the tideflats? How many chum and coho slip by uncounted
in the murk of a rising tide? What hidden profusions of fungus grow in
the forest floor? How many seeds lie dormant in the meadow? When the
Trust protects places like the Howe property, perhaps its what we
don't know about them that is most important; and perhaps this is
their real value for future generations.
|
