The rocks of ELP have been through hell.  Many times.  These rocks might be as young as 100 years old, as in the case of petrified wood, but most of them are millions of years old.  I would venture that none of these rocks are billions of years old, in their present form.  The location on Earth where ELP now sits was once the middle of the ocean.  These rocks were once molten magma deep inside the Earth.  The actual atoms within the rocks may have started in the Earth's mantle, been spewed out as lava, been churned back into the mantle by plate tectonics, and gone through that cycle hundreds of times.  Before that, the atoms in these stones, as well as the atoms in your body, were forged in the furnace of a distant star that exploded.  Although these stones are millions of years old, on average, they are constantly renewed and recycled by the Earth. 

In comparison, the forest at ELP is very young, at about nine or ten thousand years.  Over the centuries, Puget Sound will become a lake, and it may even become a desert if the Olympics grow into a mountain range like the Cascades and cut off the flow of moisture from the ocean.  If North America is moving southwest at a pace of 1 cm per year, and the accretion of material from the pacific plate builds up at about the same rate, then in a million years, the Pacific Coast will be six miles further west of ELP than it is today.  (Maybe.  Who knows if my math is right.)  ELP can't last forever as a healthy forest.  Maybe thirty or forty thousand years would be a lot to ask.  My hope is that it could last at least five thousand years, and the yew trees I've planted could live their entire natural life spans. 

Will anything we do today matter in a million years?  Most definitely.  Species are going extinct at the fastest pace in the history of the Earth.  Human are causing the Sixth Extinction.  It's already too late for millions of species, but other species might survive if we change our ways.  Millions of species will never evolve if we kill them off today.  Locally, ELP can't survive for a million years if we don't improve its health today.

Fifteen people took a tour of Seahurst Park today, to see the trilliums and skunk cabbage.  We saw about 400 trillium flowers on a two mile loop of the upper portion.  We also saw a portion of the park about the size of Eagle Landing Park that was completely free of invasive species.  That is my goal for ELP: free of invasive species and hundreds of trilliums.  It would require a different ethos of the visitors to the park.  The trilliums in Seahurst Park survive because relatively few people expend the time and energy to walk that two mile loop.  Fortunately.  Trilliums near the trail in ELP have mostly died out.  It would be a sign the ELP was headed in the right direction if the trail could be lined with beautiful native flowers, and visitors wouldn't take them or trample them.  Although I would love to walk a flower-lined trail, I don't plant wildflowers beside the trail because I know it would be a waste.  I should say, I don't plant them any more.  Previous efforts to beautify the park have been destroyed.  Now, I plant tough native species that can handle abuse, and I don't plant anything near the trail.

As we approached the top of the stairs, the heron announced himself as he landed at the beach.  Many birds were noisy today, like the flicker, a blue jay, lots of Bewick's wrens, robbins, crows, and many others I couldn't quite identify.  Other than the birds, the park was very quiet.  I imagine that people all along the shore, on both sides, from West Seattle to Three Tree Point, were enjoying the tranquility.  A jet sky zipped along from Three Tree Point to West Seattle, shattering the tranquility.  I'm sure that was one of his main sources of pleasure, knowing he was ruining a peaceful moment for everyone else.  This sort of freedom is held up as an American ideal, the freedom to destroy someone else's peace.  Where we are is such a long way from where we need to be that I can't see a path from here to there.

I caught a hummingbird today.  This is so close to being a perfect picture.  If I had just a little more sunshine, I could have frozen the action a little more and increased the depth of field.  If the bird and the flowers were just a bit sharper, this would be a perfect picture.  As it is, this picture illustrates the importance of native plants.  Hummingbirds love red flowering currant and salmon berry.  Last week, I saw a hummingbird down near the beach that appeared to be catching bugs, not sipping nectar.  I often hear them dive bombing from over one hundred feet above, making that chirp with their wings as they skid to a halt near me.  The hummingbirds have been around all winter. 

The eagle soared below me today.  I often see him soaring overhead, but today I was at the top of the stairs, above him as he flew south along the beach.  Lately, eagles have been flying through the area quietly.  Usually, during mating season, they are conspicuously noisy.  Maybe they are being noisy around their nest, half a mile north.  Around here, they are so silent that you have to be lucky to see them at the right moment. 

Wind and rain kept most people out of the park today.  More trilliums are coming up in their secret locations.  Almost every plant has broken dormancy and shown some sign of life.  The only plant without a hint of spring so far is the wild cucumber.  I have pictures from previous years of the cucumber blooming in mid-May, so that's 45 days to go from nothing to five feet tall and blooming.  The eagle flew right over my head, silently.  I wonder how many times he has flown right over me without my knowledge.  Lady ferns are unfurling. 

Komu helped me free two trees from ivy.  The ivy grew 30 feet up one tree and 60 feet up the other.  The ivy stem seen in the lower picture measured about four inches wide and had at least 16 growth rings.  Unfortunately, the alder with the most ivy also had the most decay, and it may not enjoy its freedom very long.  Hopefully the ivy will be completely dead before it falls, so it won't spread any faster than it already does.