End of an Era

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I was poking around on the north side of the mountain most of the morning, not finding much in the way of mushrooms and not feeling much inspiration for photography. I drove up the mountain and south along Bolinas Ridge, hooked a right at Rock Spring and pulled out near Sunset Point to take in the view before heading home. I'm scanning the scene when I notice something is amiss! Holy cow! I thought, "It's the end of an era!" Here's what I saw. Can you tell what's different?

When I saw what had happened I drove back up to the nearest parking lot and hiked down to visit the tree. The wind-sculpted top that's been iconic of Mt. Tam for at least 40 years or so is now an explosion of leafy branches on the ground below. A couple of large branches snagged on the way down and are now swinging in the wind, would-be widow-makers. In case you need a reminder, here's how it used to look:

Here's a picture of the same tree from Galen Rowell's book Bay Area Wild, which came out in 1997. According to the stock image profile at Mountain Light (which, like the book, also misidentifies the tree as a Monterey pine), the photograph was made in 1995.

And to take it back another 20 years, here's the tree in the book Tamalpais, by Bud Fellom and Richard Stortroen, that came out in 1978:

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Fine Falls

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Despite getting up at 5:30 I still nearly missed the mountain sunrise. Guess I dawdled a little.

Aside from just having a nice hike, I hoped to find enough water in the creek to photograph a waterfall or two.

With the falls in "gentle" mode, I crossed the creek and poked around the peripheral fern grotto.

Probably not that many people have taken in this view, but I know at least someone else has. A nearly full bottle of Sprite had been left behind.

Hopefully very soon there will be much more water pouring down the gulch -- too much to allow anyone to make a photograph from this vantage point at the base of the falls.

First time I ever saw lion's mane (Hericium erinaceus) on Mt. Tam.

This is as far down the trail as I'd planned to go. I was glad at least a little bit of water was falling here. The little orange things on the log are chicken-of-the-woods mushrooms. They must have sprouted before the creek rose.

Little purple cup fungi.

These deer mushrooms were just too perfect to pass up, having sprouted right out of a log just as sassy as you please.

Always nice to have a chance to photograph Western bluebirds.

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Fresh Fungi

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I didn't stray far from the area around my camera trap this morning. Followed some deer trails and nosed around looking for interesting fungi to photograph, like these cute little orange guys. On checking the trail camera I was disappointed to see that I'd forgotten to turn it on last week, so it's just been sitting out there missing all the action. Gnomes riding bareback on bobcats probably trooped through, of course.

I was a little bit startled by a funny sound on my way down the trail. It was Cataract Creek. There was water in it, and the water was even moving. If the rain keeps coming we might yet have waterfalls before the month is out.

I make a small effort to figure out the scientific names of the mushrooms I photograph. It's interesting to learn some of the diagnostic features of mushrooms, but I leave it to others when it comes to measuring millimeters, performing microscopy and using reagents to check for chemical reactions. Not that it wouldn't be fun to do all that someday.

I like the challenge of photographing mushrooms. I like these little guys, but I'm not crazy about the background. 

The pink gills are younger than the brown gills in the background, but both are the same species.

Not that you can tell, but Lepiotas usually have white gills.

Some fungi, like this little patch of Stereum ochracoflavum don't have gills at all. 

The very slow drip of Douglas fir sap.

Here's a bolete called Xerocomellus zelleri. It's listed as edible in California Mushrooms, and you can see by the scrapes on the cap that a banana slug would agree.

This was an interesting find. It looked like an ordinary large mushroom growing close to the ground, but when I looked for gills I found pores instead. It's actually a polypore, Jahnoporus hirtus, if I may hazard a guess.

It's late Saturday afternoon as I write, and the sky is becoming nicely overcast, with rain virtually assured for tomorrow. All I can say is: Keep it coming!

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