We recently made berry baskets from the inner bark of cedar. The native people from this area used cedar in every aspect of their lives – from clothing and hats, to blankets and bedding, to canoes and paddles, to ceremonial masks and dresses, to bowls and utensils, to boxes and ... you get the idea!

Several folks had stripped the inner bark off of previously harvested cedar, and cut it into strips about half an inch by 10 inches. We began by weaving a pattern for the base. Then we used a common but non-native natural material for stitching: raffia. Story has it that in the 1800s ships would arrive with crated items that would be opened shore-side and the packing material would be dumped overboard. Coastal native peoples began to find this material, raffia, washing up on their shores, and quickly discovered its easy weaving properties. So, while it isn't native to the Americas, it does have a history of native use here. (I've tried for years to find alternate uses for today's packing material, but just can't do much with Styrofoam.) We wove the raffia around the base, and then used a 4x4x6 block as a form to wrap the sides of our basket over. We then alternated between weaving a few cedar strips in, and then weaving the raffia to provide a solid basket. At the end, we nibbled the edges to create nice square corners. And also just to look completely ridiculous.

We finally completed our berry baskets, taking 8 hours to make them! Remember, this is only for a basket 4x4x6! Imagine how long it would take to make a basket capable of harvesting a couple gallons of berries. Now I know what people did back when there was a surplus of time … before the internet! Ah well, it was fun and the result is beautiful!

Not sure when I'll get to tell you about the day we spent building snares and traps, or picking cottonwood buds and making salve, or our awesome day learning tactical tracking / search and rescue ... and there are still many adventures to be told from our trip to California! So much to tell, so much Kamana homework, so little time.

PS Here's Jonathan's photo of the bobcat we saw in Sunol. Amazing, yea? Look at those classic Lynx sideburns, and stumpy tail. Cute kitty!!

March 8, 2006 10:52 - Don't just do something, sit there!

[Memorandum: Sometimes I'll have links in this blog that will point you to related articles or places where you can learn more about something I've mentioned. These external sites are in no way 'endorsed' by NatureSkills.com, they're just places I think you'll find interesting, helpful or just plain nutty. It's the opposite of what happens when I read an article on some major news source website and they mention a business or product but provide bupkis for links. Just because they are afraid I'll confuse their link with some sort of endorsement they force me to take the extra few seconds to pull up Google and enter the search myself. I am annoyed by this practice and so won't be following in their footsteps here. If you were looking for someone else to tell you that another site was good or bad, sorry, you'll just have to decide that one on your own. Feel free to let others know what you think about my links by clicking on "Comments" at the end of each blog entry and submitting your comments .. it just might make you feel better! There, now that I've said that I do feel much better. On with the show...]

I am not just a naturalist, I'm also a father of a burgeoning naturalist. My son Aiden is 3.5 years old and loves to play outside. I love hanging outside with him .. seeing what he sees, sharing what I see, asking questions about both. He doesn't think of it as learning of course, it's just us playing and talking and listening to what there is to hear.

Last week I purchased a great book for Aiden: Kamana for Kids Book 1: Awareness, by Bob Repoley and Barbara English. That evening we all read the first chapter together. This wonderful book with bright illustrations tells a story about two people who encounter creatures in the woods that assist them in discovering more about nature. It inspires kids to discover their own back yards through some core routines like having a sit spot, sensory awareness games and journaling about their time outside. The book follows Wilderness Awareness School's Natural Learning Cycle model. While the formatting of the book isn't up to DK standards, I haven't heard any complaints from my son. :-)

Saturday I went out with Aiden to help him choose his sit spot. We found a place that takes a (very short) walk through the woods to get to, but is right outside our yurt where we can see him (and snatch him away from the jaws of a hungry cougar if need be). It is located down the steps of an unused side door to our yurt. We grabbed a fallen branch and swept his sit spot. Then we decorated it nice and purdy with boughs of Western Hemlock. He wanted me to sit with him during his first sit, so there we were: "Close your eyes, now point to where you hear a bird call. Good! Any more? Yes! Great! Now open your eyes and tell me if you can see the bird making those calls. No? Neither can I. ...." It was SO much fun!

The next day Aiden surprised me. We were all headed down into town, and when we got to the car Aiden turned to me and said excitedly, "Papa, can I go to my sit spot?" Just warms my heart to think of it! Of course I said "No, we're in a hurry. Just get in the car and stop crying." OK, I said nothing of the sort. I broke into a huge grin and said, "Yeah! Go!" He bounded off.

That evening, just as the sun was setting, Aiden and Rowen (my wonderful 1 year old) and I went out to discover what animals we could. We heard an owl, and heard and saw another bird. After listening to them for a short while, Aiden told me that he was cold and wanted to go inside. I told him I could get him a sweater so we could come back. He then informed me that he really wanted to go inside because he was nervous of animals that might eat him. It's true, he'd make a tasty morsel! So we headed back in, and listened to several bird songs as recorded by Peterson's guide. Aiden was able to help me determine that it was an American Robin that we heard. My only regret is not taking that opportunity to demonstrate how learning Latin names can be fun!

I am so very thankful that I am a father, and that I am giving my children time out in the woods like my father did with me. If you have kids, or know someone with kids, or have ever seen a kid, I encourage you to find ways to further their connection with the natural world. Hallelujah!

March 12, 2006 21:37 - Singing in the Snow!

Friday our class met at 5:45 am and went to our sit spots around Linne Doran for a dawn bird sit. For those unfamiliar with 'sit spots,' here's what you do: find a place to sit, and sit. It really is that simple. Why might you do this? You can learn about almost any aspect of nature just by sitting in one place, at various times of the day and night, several times a week, throughout the seasons of the year. Sit and listen - to the bird calls, the rain falling, the trees creaking, and ... just listen. And watch - the birds' movements, the animals' gaits, the leaves budding, the weather patterns, and ... just watch. And smell - the scent of rich humus beneath you, the moisture in the air, the lingering smoke from a distant woodstove, and ... just smell. And feel - the wind on your face, the sun on your neck, the damp ground soaking your jeans and making you wonder why it was you decided to sit out here in the first place ... and just feel. :-) This is what I mean when I say 'sit spot.' (Now that it's clear, I'll quit 'single-quoting' it.)

I walked down to my sit spot that is near the dam on Linne Doran overlooking the south end of the pond. I laid down my mat and settled in for a two hour sit. The birds began to wake up soon after. Some of the first birds I heard were: winter wren, spotted towhee, varied thrush, a few ducks flying overhead, an obnoxious rooster ... and several birds I haven't identified. During the next hour the chorus grew to include: song sparrows, kinglets, a kingfisher, hairy woodpecker, flicker, black-capped chickadees, and brown creepers. Again, I'm sure there were more, but that is all I could identify.

During this time it gradually began to snow on me. Little snowflakes at first. Then larger and larger clusters of snowflakes, until nickel-sized gobs of snow twirled and spiraled down upon the landscape. By the time the snow-gobs fell, the birds had grown mostly silent. We talked about that afterward: did the birds fall quiet because of needing to spend less energy on song and more on gathering what they needed to get through the snowy day? Why do they sing so at the beginning of the day anyway? Their calls and activities at dawn are so different from the rest of the day when they are checking in with each other, showing off for the females or alarming over a predator or other disturbance. Hmm, the rest of their day sounds a lot like humans. Maybe the question should be reversed: why don't we sing in the morning?

I've never intentionally sat quiet for so long while being snowed on. It was really fantastic! It would have been fun enough just to listen to the birds and trying to identify what species I was hearing, their location, type of call, etc. But to watch the snow fall too, Ooo! After a bit, I noticed that I could see the snow falling 'up' in the reflection on the water, and still see the snow falling down onto the water. It was a crazy fun time. Almost made me forget how cold I was out there!

Whether there is snow, rain, or brilliant sun where you live, head out at first light and sit for a bit. The Dawn Chorus is a longer running show than Chorus Line, has gotten rave reviews and runs daily at a 'theater' near you! Check it out! No appointment necessary.

March 20, 2006 08:32 - Illuminating Blind Spots

Friday began with a sign at the edge of the parking lot which read, "Attention WARPers: Please put your blindfolds on and meet at Malalo." Whoa.

I donned my blindfold and made my way to our cozy, dirt floored, octahedral structure called Malalo (Lair of the Leopard). I ended up taking a rather unconventional path toward Malalo (see previous statement concerning eyewear). Once inside I was directed to an empty spot on the perimeter bench (that encircled the central fire). We began our day as usual with a student giving the thanksgiving address and bringing our minds together as one (witty or informative parenthetical statement here).

Huge 'props' to Marcus who started the fire earlier that morning .. in a primitive manner .. while blindfolded! He found his fire kit in his pack, set out his tinder bundle, laid out his fire board, inserted the spindle in his bow, grabbed his handhold, got into position, and cranked out a coal ... and knew the coal was there! Then had to place the coal in his tinder bundle and blow it into flame, and get it inserted into the kindling tipi that was waiting in the fire ring. All while blindfolded. Amazing work!!

We went out scent tracking! We gathered ourselves into our smaller groups/clans and then were lead across the land to our starting scent-track. From there we were to follow it until it ended. Once we neared the end an instructor added on to the scent trail (in this case, lemongrass essential oil). We were able to follow it fairly easy after a while, so she asked if we wanted a challenge. Of course! So we were asked to close our ears while she created a scent trail that went one way, double-backed on itself, took off into the thick brush and vine maples, and then left the ground! As well as placing some scent marks on the ground, she had also placed some of the scent markings on branch tips, or leaves that varied in height up to 5 feet up - with the distance between each one varying of course! We were so challenged that at a point I thought is was hopeless. However we eventually succeeded in picking up the trail and following it to its eventual end. It was so fun! I even snapped a few pictures today, blindfolded of course.

By the time we gathered in Malalo for lunch, my body had adjusted/resigned to not having any input through my eyes other than extreme light differences that filtered through my blindfold and eyelids. (The self-portrait above shows me facing the sun.) I felt quite comfortable without having the use of my eyes. Uh, or so I thought.

I was fully in my other senses, finding the trail back to Malalo by the other-sense map I'd been building that day and overlaying on my preexisting visual map. I could feel the open trail in my boots and legs, could feel the gradual overall incline that meant I was on track, and could hear the others that were walking toward and congregating near Malalo. I entered and found my way to my seat on the bench. (I had marked it with my vest hung over the seat back.) However I couldn't find my pack with my food and much needed water. I grabbed what I thought was mine, but it had Will's huge knife in it. As I began to grow concerned that I wouldn't be able to locate it, I noticed that the sound of people talking had grown to a cacophony. It was overwhelming me. Without my eyes, it was difficult to focus on anything. I began to feel perspiration bead on my forehead as my discontent steadily grew. "Uh, Casey, can you find my backpack?" I asked the instructor. "Casey ... CASEY!" Man, I was freakin' out! Someone found my pack and once I took a long drink from my petrochemically housed water, all was OK again. It seems to go that just when I think I have attained some higher level of understanding I get whacked with perspective.

"Get out your notebooks." Are you kidding? "No." Once we finished eating out lunch we had a plant ID quiz where specimens were passed around and we were challenged to identify the plant by touch (and smell). We wrote our answers in our notebook so we could look over them later, though the answers were given orally at the end of the quiz. I think at least a few people had extra answers written down since I passed along some bonus specimens that I found in my lunch bag. (I wonder how many students correctly guessed one item was a Pink Lady...) I have never 'looked' at plants this way before, and was amazed as much by what I couldn't ID as by what I could. QUIZ FOR FOR BUDDING NATURALISTS or seasoned botanists reading this blog: put quite a few plant samples in a sack, grab a bandana, cover your eyes, and then draw them out and try to identify them. Keep the blindfold on as you write your answers. Set the samples down in order so you can check your answers visually against what you scrawled. You will never see plants the same way again!

At the end of the day we sat for 15 minutes, just soaking in the day and that moment. Then we took off our blindfolds. I was expecting to be joyous at what I would see .. but found myself sad. Not sad at what I could see, but sad by the realization of how much of my sensory input I usually disregard. And once sighted, grieving at the sensations that were already receding into the background of my consciousness. Hmm .. guess it shows me where I can expand and what is possible.

Well, what an amazing day! It is incredible what I can see without eyes. I am so grateful for the opportunity to be blinded for a day, and am so thankful for the ability to have sight again. While I will remain visually dominant as long as I have eyesight, I will be giving more attention to my other senses as well. You'll know I'm keeping my word if the next time we meet I fondle your hand or sniff your scent!

February 2006 «  » April 2006

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