<\/a>Forest vegetation succession begins on an elevated root extending from a root wad. (Photo by Pam Bergeson)<\/p><\/div>\n\t\t\t\t
Stumps, fallen tree trunks, and turned-up root wads often provide new substrate for plants to colonize. We commonly see a nurse log with a row of hemlock saplings or a stump laden with ferns or blueberry bushes. Sometimes we also see big trees whose roots arch down over wide open spaces where a stump used to be, before it decayed away (there’s a good example on the nearby DZ loop). On this stroll, we found a fine specimen displaying three generations of colonization: a rotting stump supporting a big spruce tree that supports two sturdy young hemlocks straddling its sides, their own roots now reaching down to the ground. A long, upright root of one root wad holds a colonizing fern and some smaller companions many feet above all the rest of the understory — an elevated island of vegetation, no doubt doomed to collapse to ground level eventually.<\/p>\n\t\t\t\t
Mid-September came, and the forecast was for many days of rain. Aaarrrgh! But suddenly, one day dawned with heavy fog and a promise of blue skies. So up the tram we went, hoping for the best in weather and choosing a day with not quite so many floating hotels in the channel. We didn’t make it to the higher elevations, alas, but enjoyed the view of vanishing fog and seeing some things at the lower levels — to some distance above the cross.<\/p>\n\t\t\t\t
False hellebore (so-called; a poor name because this plant is not related to the real hellebore and does not even look like it) was brown and flat on the ground, done for the year. However, we found seven kinds of flowers in the very last stages of bloom, looking quite bedraggled: for instance, yellow paintbrush, fireweed, foamflower, rattlesnake root. And one species still had flowers in good shape — miners’ lettuce, growing close to the ground under the shelter of overhanging bushes.<\/p>\n\t\t\t\t