Falling up the Mountain

The higher they are, the harder they fall.

In the lowlands of western Washington, the signs of autumn (the smells, the cooler temperatures, the September rains, the greening grass, the mist on the spider webs, the coloring leaves) started appearing a few weeks ago. They have gradually built momentum in the temperate climate, and I have enjoyed watching their development. At the same time, I have kept an eye on the webcams at Mount Rainier, waiting for the chance to see the intense colors of the mountain's fall foliage in person. Those colors really began to pop this week, so my mom and I headed up for a hike on Thursday.

We received a few autumnal previews on the drive to the mountain. The morning fog sure suggested fall, and near the Ohop Valley, we started seeing trees dressed in golden leaves.

Inside Mount Rainier National Park, I could feel excitement welling up inside me. Pine scent hovered heavily at Longmire. The cliffs above the Nisqually River Valley revealed hints of the sights to come at the higher elevations. Bright reds and yellows flared on the gray rocks, and it soon became clear that we had timed the fall transformation of the mountain just about perfectly.

Fall painting a stunning scene at Mount Rainier.

We started the hike at the Reflection Lakes with the scenery above at Paradise our destination. On the trail, we saw increasing evidence of fall. The leaves of Cascade blueberries appeared in purples and reds, the nuthatches chattered joyously while spilling the contents of tree cones down around us, and the pine scent intensified. Near the halfway point, the meadows started to open up with patches of bright colors and views of the mountain. Each spot built on the beauty of the last. The fall grew more forceful the higher we went. Then came the radiant blast at Paradise. Fueled by the midday sun, the full reds, oranges, and yellows lit up the area around the Henry M. Jackson Visitor Center and the Paradise Inn and blazed across the slopes to the east.

Having gone up there in pursuit of this concentrated burst of fall, I felt almost staggered by happiness. Two of my most cherished things, the fall and Mount Rainier, came together in stunning perfection; and as those autumn colors washed over the side of that mountain, they took a hold on my heart so tight that I suspect they'll never relinquish it.

Going up is a pretty good way to fall.

Sandhills and Mountains

I saw four volcanoes yesterday, and they weren't even the biggest sightings of the day.

One of the sandhill cranes that flew over as I walked the
Kiwa Trail at the Ridgefield National Wildlife Refuge.

The drive to and from the Ridgefield National Wildlife Refuge had views of Mount Rainier, Mount St. Helens, Mount Adams, and Mount Hood. That, by itself, is enough to make a day remarkable. At the refuge, however, I logged my very first sighting of sandhill cranes, turning remarkable into breathtaking.

Yesterday's spectacular views began to take shape several weeks ago when I visited the Web site of the Black Hills Audubon Society. They had planned a trip to the refuge at Ridgefield with the hope of seeing some sandhill cranes. Previously unaware that the cranes visited the refuge, I became interested in making my own trip there. With birders reporting sightings of the cranes at Ridgefield over the weekend and with sunny weather coming this week, I made up my mind to go. I'm so happy I did.

Mount St. Helens watching over the
Ridgefield National Wildlife Refuge.

On the drive to Ridgefield, a haze shrouded the Cascade Mountains, hiding Mount Rainier, but the three volcanoes to its south proudly made their appearances as my mom and I neared our destination. The towering giants served as an exciting prelude to what the refuge had in store for us. We heard the sandhill cranes before we saw them, and then, after photographing a green heron and some cedar waxwings at the beginning of the Kiwa Trail, we sighted our first group of cranes about a third of the way down the trail. Never having seen a sandhill crane in person before, I felt like I had just discovered some priceless artifact. As we continued down the trail, another group of cranes flew over head, we saw a great egret, and Mount St. Helens peeked over the hill. We had amazing sights all around, and at the center of it, I found those cranes and the sense that they had given me an experience everyone should have at some point in life. Something special exists in those birds, a charisma and a power that compels us to take notice.

Before leaving the refuge, we also saw a pied-billed grebe. After lunch in Ridgefield, we began our return trip. Mount St. Helens, Mount Adams, and Mount Hood remained out for viewing, and Mount Rainier finally presented itself.

Four volcanoes, three birds added to my 2018 list, which now stands at 124 species, and, to top it all off, my first sighting of sandhill cranes: a day to remember for sure.