It has been a crazy season of life for Emily and Keelin. Please continue reading below their good byes and feel free to watch a video reflecting on their year: End Of Year

 

Friends,

I can hardly believe it is time to say goodbye already. Who knew 10.5 months was so short? Last August, I crossed the country to serve with Washington Service Corps, experience new things, and discover the Pacific Northwest. I’m not sure what I was expecting, but what I found blew me away! Every bit as beautiful as and very slightly less rainy than I was led to believe, Washington has stolen a piece of my heart. And Skagit County in particular is one of the most welcoming and enjoyable communities in which I have lived.

I could frame this experience around salmon. And that wouldn’t be wrong; they have been central to most of what I’ve learned and experienced. But it wouldn’t be quite right either. It is, after all, about way more than just salmon. I may have been excited to see my first sockeye in Baker Lake, but I have been in as much awe of old growth trees blanketed with moss and dripping with tangled lichens. I’ve seen so many swans, snow geese, bald eagles, and blue herons that I lost count long ago. I’ve soaked up sun and rain alike at restoration sites and gained the satisfaction of putting trees in the ground and taking weeds out of it. All this because of and for the salmon, but hardly contained by them.

Instead, what honestly frames my experience here is not the fish, but the people. From Concrete to La Conner and all the places in between, I am lucky to have gotten to know so many wonderful communities. I have been inspired by passionate volunteers, mentored by experienced educators, and amazed by enthusiastic students. Across the watershed I’ve met people who care about their region and want to make a difference in their own way. Being a part of that has truly been a blessing. And even outside of my service, I’ve been welcomed into the community. People have joyfully shared all their own personal favorite sights, events, and activities with me and recommended far more to explore on my own. And although I couldn’t do everything, I appreciated the openness so many people had to a curious East Coaster.

I came here to volunteer my time and talents with AmeriCorps and SFEG, but in the end, I received so much back it hardly seems like a fair trade. So if you’re reading this, thank you. Thank you for welcoming me and teaching me. Thank you for showing me your world. Thank you for sharing life with me. Thank you for caring. Whether in small ways or large ones you have helped to make this an unforgettable year. I’m proud to have spent this time serving the Skagit Valley and will carry this experience forever as a foundation stone of my future.

With Much Gratitude, 

Emily

 

 

 

Friends,

In just under a week I will be moving on from this position that I’ve held for only a short 10 months. While I know that you all have seen many AmeriCorps members come through Skagit Fisheries, this was the first time for me and it has been outstanding. I know that I’m supposed to say this at the end of something, that it was the best and most exciting journey I’ve ever been on. But I really want to share with you all that I have really enjoyed learning from you.

When I came into this position, I was (and I guess I still am technically) fresh out of college and was excited to start as a Washington Service Corps member in a field that I was passionate about. I want to take time to thank each and every one of you for the impact that you’ve made in my life and my future career. I stress the career part because I am daunted to think about how I can continue to pursue my dream in such a competitive field and thanks to you all, I am so much better prepared for life after.

Thank you to those who were at the Salmon Festival, it was an insane way to start my term but you introduced me to how my life would be the next 10 months. Thank you, especially, for letting me hang out with Sammy Salmon and Ranger Rick.

Thank you to all of the Spawner Surveyors for allowing me to document your walks. I know it was more fun for me to videotape you than it was to be videotaped. Also, I appreciated walking the streams with you guys and hearing your laughter at my fish excitement. My absolute favorite part was getting to interview some of you, learning what drives your passion to volunteer.

To all those who attended the Wild & Scenic Film Festival, you definitely made the night special and showed me just how much support a community can give.

Thank you to those who went to our Salmon Sightings! You guys are the real heroes of the day. Salmon are elusive creatures and yet you still came out in the cold to catch a glimpse!

We have an especially determined group of volunteers who I came to know that attended our planting parties. You guys are hardy folk, especially when it was rainy and windy. You blew me away when we tried to cancel that snowy planting party and some of you still came out!

Thank you to all the teachers who brought your hordes of students out into the cold weather just to learn about the environment. You’re the reason your students get to experience the wonders of outdoors.

Thank you to all the other environmental organizations that I got to work with through SFEG. These include (but are nowhere near the full extent): Skagit Land Trust, the Watershed Council, Washington Department of Fish and Wildlife, Nooksack Salmon Enhancement Association, Skagit Conservation District, North Cascade Institute, oh my goodness and so many more… you showed me that it’s only a competition if we’re not on the same side.

Earth Day Extraordinaires: Thank you for coming together to help plan this crazy day and for making a difference in your community!

Students: I know that you didn’t always want to be outside when it was raining. I know that falling face first into a deep muck-puddle isn’t what you though a field trip would entail, but your perseverance is so commendable. You bring me hope for the future.   

People of Penn Cove: Thank you to the many hundreds of you who visited our booth and the festival. It was so encouraging to meet so many people interested in ecological restoration.

I really want to thank the Marblemount Hatchery staff for your patience in allowing swaths of children see your facility and learn about your operations time and time again.

Lastly, I need to thank those who I get to work with every day. Thank you to all of you who work or have worked with me at SFEG. Thank you for being so patient with me as I learned how to fulfill my position. Thank you for always looking in on me to see how I’m doing. Thank you for inviting me to all of your adventures out into the field, adventures such as steward-shipping, fish seining, surprise vegetation monitoring, nursery days, and many other things. It meant so much to me to get out of the office! Thank you for taking the time (and more than just 10 min I might add…) to teach me something. Thank you to those you who have given me thank you or encouragement cards, I have reread them when I needed encouraging. And, oh my, am I thankful that you guys like to laugh. Never have I ever had such a fun and intellectual group of people to work with.

I know that I have so many more people to send out my appreciation, but this letter can only be so long! I am moving on from SFEG more prepared and excited to continue with my passion of the environment. You all have been so good to me; I hope the next “me” feels the same way! I will surely miss you all!

 

Best Regards,

 

Keelin  

By Emily Jankowski

 

 

“I mentioned there would be bushwhacking, right?”

“Yeah, but you did leave out the rock climbing so…”

I paused to pour sand and gravel out of my boot. We were either following or making a trail through one of our stewardship sites owned by Seattle City Light. It was sometimes hard to tell the difference. The steep and crumbly stream banks we had scrambled up and down however, were definitely not meant to be crossed that way. Or any way that I had seen. All things considered, we had done well just by making it to the other side without either of us falling in the water. As we continued trekking across the site, a sense of high adventure persisted. Any step could lead up to the edge of another precipitous stream channel and almost anything could be lurking in the woods!

A bit later in the day we walked a site that was no less exciting, but actually had a few trails. The thin, winding paths led us gently down toward the river. Under a few tall trees along the bank we found small piles of salmon bones. Although a bit morbid, the bones were a welcome sign of conservation working well, as wildlife apparently made good use of the area, staying well supplied with salmon. We continued along the shoreline, enjoying the cool shade of massive cedars and imagining how long they must have grown so near the water yet never quite being washed out by the fickle changes in the river’s path. A common merganser heard us coming and fled in a noisy rush of wings, bringing us abruptly back to the present. Our path led to a peaceful, muddy shore stamped with elk tracks. In front of us was a calm and wide stream, in stark contrast to the rushing Skagit just to our right. The sun warmed us as we paused a minute to watch small fish swimming in the sheltered waters. Birds sang in the trees and occasionally flew through the open airspace over the channel. The place felt like a secret treasure that I didn’t want to leave behind.

Unfortunately, we did eventually have to turn back. We retraced our steps partway and then turned to cross another section of the site. In a grove under some large trees we found a robin’s egg shell. Suddenly, movement caught my eye. Something small and furry had darted across my path and toward the base of one of the nearby trees.

“I thought I saw…a mouse? Or something fast? But it was…hopping.”

“An Oregon jumping frog?” Bengt asked.

“Well uh, no I don’t think so, it was definitely furry” I answered, volunteering the only visual detail of which I was certain. I moved slowly into a new position to see the base of the tree between the ferns.

“It’s a thing!”

“I believe it’s a thing, but it’s not this thing” I said, finally able to point out what I had only glimpsed the motion of before. Sure enough, a small mammal with dark brown fur and long white back legs clung near the base of the tree. Now that it wasn’t moving, it was clearly mouse-shaped. I took a couple cautious pictures with my cell phone before we scared our new friend away. It’s not every day you see an animal that moves like a frog but looks like a mouse. A quick internet search back at the office identified it as a pacific jumping mouse. So each of our instincts was about one third right.

No longer on a trail, we got hopelessly tangled up in the brush on our way back to the car. Even our most determined efforts made little progress. Sometimes the best way out is through, but often it pays better to change your approach. We muscled our way into a small clearing off to the side of the “path” we had been trying to make. From there we found a much easier way through and it wasn’t long until we made it back to the road. Reaching the truck closed one chapter of the day’s adventures as surely as it opened the next. In one day we bushwhacked, scrambled up and down steep slopes, saw wildlife and its signs, checked up on restoration plantings, decided on future actions to help sites, walked boundaries, and more. It was a busy and rewarding way to spend the day. Outside, helping to keep our watershed healthy.

By Emily Jankowski

 

Freshwater mussel in the stream.

For the rest of the ecosystem, salmon migration is something of a taxi service. Mostly this means bringing nutrients from the ocean upstream again, but some slower moving animals take it a bit more literally. The larval stage of freshwater mussels, known as glochidia, hitchhikes on fish in order to colonize new areas of streams and rivers. Don’t worry, the fish are not bothered by their passengers!

When ready, glochidia drop off of the fish and settle to the bottom to make a home among the sediment. Often mussels will use their foot to pull themselves into a position that offers them protection among the rocks while also giving them plenty of access to food in the current. Because mussels are filter feeders, they help to clean our waterways just by living in them! And for many animals, including otters, muskrats, and raccoons, mussels are a favorite meal. Piles of empty shells are a common site along mussel-bearing streams, hinting at the predators and prey you may not see. If they don’t get eaten first, mussels can live 60 or 70 years. Some individuals have even been known to reach 100 years old!

Emily excited to have found a western pearlshell!

Mussels can blend in easily with the rocks in the stream, but not too long ago we got lucky and noticed one in Friday Creek (pictured). It appears to be a western pearlshell mussel (Margaritifera falcata). Like most mussels in our region, it favors salmonids as a host for its glochidia stage. Perhaps this mussel was once attached to the gills of a chinook! And if we’re lucky, the salmon we help make good habitat for today will host the glochidia of future mussels-that will grow up to help clean the water for future salmon!

Freshwater mussels across the US are struggling to keep up in a world that once harvested their shells for buttons and continues to pollute and sediment load their waters. Many species are endangered. If you’re interested in freshwater mussels, check out @musselsPNW for more information, or this section of the Xerces Society website for additional resources.