{"id":86823,"date":"2022-06-06T22:30:00","date_gmt":"2022-06-07T06:30:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.juneauempire.com\/news\/cowee-meadows-observations\/"},"modified":"2022-06-08T18:07:59","modified_gmt":"2022-06-09T02:07:59","slug":"cowee-meadows-observations","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.juneauempire.com\/news\/cowee-meadows-observations\/","title":{"rendered":"On the Trails: Cowee Meadows observations"},"content":{"rendered":"\n\t\t\t\t
By Mary F. Willson<\/strong><\/ins><\/p>\n\t\t\t\t A splendid, sunny day at the end of May called for a visit to the flowery meadows on the Point Bridget trail. The day started off well — in the first muskeg near the trailhead, we saw flowers of eight species. As a bonus, “Quick, three beers!” sounded repeatedly from the edge of the muskeg — my first olive-sided flycatcher of the year.<\/p>\n\t\t\t\t Bracken fern was still unfolding along the trail into the forest and a few more flowers there were added to the list. A Pacific wren sang and a sapsucker called from a dead tree. Small white butterflies made courtship pursuits and a few tiny blue butterflies flitted by. The skunk cabbages were fading, but many of the sturdy inflorescences entertained a variety of small flies and beetles; the beetles are thought to be the main pollinators of skunk cabbages, but perhaps the flies can do the job too.<\/p>\n\t\t\t\t Emerging into the main lowland meadows, we were greeted by a wide expanse of bright yellow, chiefly buttercups in full bloom, with some tall blue lupines adding a bit of micro-topography. Below that cheerful canopy was an understory of pinky-purple shooting stars, and in certain places there was an under-understory of white strawberry flowers. It would be a while before the irises bloom; as expected, the buds were still small and safely enfolded in the vertical leaves. Wilson’s warblers sang along the edge of the meadows and savannah sparrows popped up out of the meadow greenery briefly, before diving back into cover.<\/p>\n\t\t\t\t Dawdling along, looking at flowers and bugs, we finally reached the estuary of Cowee Creek and settled onto a log at the very upper edge of the beach for a picnic. There we were greeted by strident calls and a black bird with a long red bill (and oddly pale legs) marched toward us while his mate lingered down by the water. I hadn’t been scolded by an oystercatcher for ages, so this was a welcome sound.<\/p>\n\t\t\t\t