I love rotifers! They seem to be the testing ground for so many ways to move and survive in a pond. The rotifers included in my observations are all from one small section of a nameless pond in the Chuckanut Trail system. I did three plankton tows as part of a wetland study from about 2017 through 2018. And, for the study, I creatively named the water body: Chuckanut Pond.
I was able to borrow collection, preservation and microscopy equipment from Skagit Valley College's Environmental Conservation lab, then set up a microscope at my kitchen counter for a few months to view and attempt to identify plankton. There were a few cladocerans and copepods. But mostly there were lots of different rotifers, along with some exquisite single-celled algae.
I'm not completely sure about any of my IDs. But this first one, Testudinella patina, seems like it could be what I think it is based on comparing it with some online images. However, I'll take any suggestions and feedback from anyone who is more confident about rotifer identification.
LEMONS WITH BUTTER
It's been a long while since I've come down from the mountain forest to the beach. So, it was a sweet surprise to take time to check under the railroad bridge at Marine Park Beach for sea lemons which I've found there in the past.
The last time I looked in this spot, there was a sign overhead on the bridge warning folks to keep from entering underneath because a Great Blue Heron rookery is on the other side, beyond a lagoon up the shore. People were alerted to stay clear for fear of startling the heron families. But no sign was up, and my fellow explorer and I felt we were being quiet and unobtrusive enough to just view, photograph and wonder briefly at the lovely yellow sea lemons and their nursery of buttery, ever-so-slightly undulating concentric rings of eggs.
DISCOVERING HOODED NUDIBRANCHS
In the summer of 2016, while on a family excursion to Dot Island, we found certain parts of the near shore eel grass was replete with small, medium and large sized of hooded nudibranchs -- one of my favorites! It was a bustling cache of molluscs clinging on together. I carefully dipped an open clam shell into the water to lift one nudibranch out. I watched it swish its body up and down around its wide open hood as I filmed for 11 seconds, then slipped it back where I found it. When I was home to view the short film, to my happy surprise, I captured the sound of the waves that washed up and back in synchronization with the nudibranch's swishing.
My first discovery of this creature was on one late fall afternoon when I was exploring tide pools with my young son at Larrabee State Park Beach. We had some free time together while my daughter was at her violin lesson just some minutes north up Chuckanut Highway. My son and I were standing on the rocks jutting into the bay when we saw two white-opaque blobs each swishing its body gracefully in the surf. They were bigger than the sample in this observation. We had no idea what we were looking at. But with a bit of Googling at home, I'd learned they were hooded nudibranchs. It was a gray, damp, yet magical moment of discovery I got to share with my son!
These photos were taken during my capstone project which was a wetland study on a pond I refer to as Chuckanut Pond. The study involved a plant inventory performed using point-transect lines radiating around the perimeter of the pond. Near where North Lost Lake Trail begins and is adjacent to Chuckanut Pond, I found two trees showing what seemed to be beaver gnawing marks.
About eight years prior to the time I took these photos, local residents informed me that beavers used to inhabit the area. The beavers were removed because their dam costruction led to residential flooding. I don't know the details about this history, but I'd really like to find out from anyone who may.
Today, April 17, 2020, I added the photo of what I'm somewhat sure is yet another sign of historical beaver activity. This very old, decaying tree stump is hanging over the edge of Chuckanut Pond that's alongside Hemlock Trail, tight at the trail fork.
