The wind scoured the air clean today.  The stagnant air that had given us nice sunsets has all been pushed out.  It didn't quite snow today, but it might tomorrow.  The trees creaked and moaned, and I remained alert as to which way to run with the dogs if a large branch or tree top came down.  Although I have referred to Eagle Landing Park as unhealthy, that is only relative to what it could be.  Compared to the typical urban landscape, ELP is quite healthy.

In Japan, they have a tradition called "forest bathing" or Shinrin-yoku.  (NY Times, July 5, 2010)  Proponents of this practice claim that exposure to compounds released by plants raises your immune function.  So, while I am acting as a white blood cell for the forest, it is boosting my immune system as well.  If it is true, then we are truly enjoying a symbiotic relationship, above and beyond the exchange of oxygen for carbon.

We evolved in a landscape of plants and sky and sand and wind, not asphalt, carpet, and LCD monitors.  It makes sense that we would feel healthiest in an environment where our ancestors spent millions of years.  (Perhaps not northwest forests, but natural environments.)  While it may not make sense to hunt and gather in these woods for food, I can still hunt and gather photos and stones and strands of ivy. And species.

In the photo at the top of the page, a giant hemlock is visible on the right edge.  This tree is not in the park.  Eventually, some homeowner of the property north of the park will probably cut it down.  Homes change hands every 11 years on average, and eventually the home will be bought by someone who likes empty space better than magnificent trees.  ELP has a few moderately large hemlocks, but no giants.  Many small hemlocks have been planted as part of the restoration. 

On today's walk, I counted 93 trees with ivy on them.  Most of those trees had the ivy cleared off before, and it is only just starting again.  About ten trees had ivy all the way to the top.  I should go through the park, while the leaves are off the trees and I can see clearly, and kill the ivy on those 93 trees.  If I didn't have other obligations, I would love to spend forty hours a week restoring the forest.  That reminds me-- I should check my lottery ticket.

The picture above shows how the alders at the beach are being undermined, especially by today's king tide.  The tree on the left is hanging over empty space, like the stairs, and the only thing holding it up is the other three trees.  Their roots are all bound together.  I would imagine that their roots have even grafted together.  Eventually, the whole group of trees will tip onto the beach.  Maybe then we will see if their roots fused.  When the alders fall, they will probably take out the stairs, too.  Maybe they will get fixed then.

Stone 14 is pictured above, where I found it in its own little zen garden, with a bigger stone with barnacles.  The sun is so low that a pebble casts a shadow.  3 miles today.