Spring Exalted

Bare legs have been sighted. Friday’s rain gave the creeks reason to babble, and the banana slugs had a small but determined parade. There is good music about, and the growing season is underway in earnest.

So much naturalist gossip to discuss. A good time to be Lady Humboldt.

Friday night at 8:30, the left-coast string band brings their particular alchemy of bluegrass, folk, and soul to a room that appreciates the distinction between music that is played and music that happens. The band has been refining this formula for two decades, which is enough time to know exactly when to let the banjo take charge.

The Western Flycatchers have returned to Humboldt County this week, appearing simultaneously at Headwaters Forest, Shay Park, and the Mad River Fish Hatchery. Their arrival is both punctual and widespread, suggesting a coordinated effort that no one has claimed responsibility for organizing. The flycatcher operates on a simple principle: perch, watch, dart, return. It is a business model that has served them well for millennia. One observer near Arcata reported watching a single bird execute forty-seven successful aerial maneuvers in twenty minutes, which is the sort of efficiency that makes other species reconsider their life choices.

The Grieg-French-Bell Grove trail in the Eel River Valley offers what might be the county’s most theatrical display of redwood sorrel. The easy loop wanders for just under a mile through old-growth redwoods, including the famous Girdled Tree, which had its bark stripped in 1901 and responded by continuing to grow for another 125 years out of what can only be described as spite. The trail also features an albino redwood, one of nature’s rarer experiments in forest genetics. Parking is straightforward at the pullout along the Avenue, though on weekends one might encounter film crews who have discovered what Hollywood considers “authentic wilderness.” The loop is gentle enough for all ages and shaded enough that the afternoon heat remains theoretical. Bring a camera — the light through the sorrel creates the sort of green that makes photographers yearn to quit their day job.

Dick Taylor Craft Chocolate occupies a waterfront building on First Street in Eureka where the smell of roasting cacao beans reaches the sidewalk before one has committed to entering. The drinking chocolate — made from their own bean-to-bar stock — renders three inches of rain not merely tolerable but atmospheric. Factory tours run daily for those curious why two ingredients require this much attention.

This week in 1975, the Humboldt County Board of Supervisors voted to establish the county's first official tsunami warning system, inspired by memories of the 1960 Chilean tsunami that rearranged several waterfront assumptions in Eureka and sent boats in Humboldt Bay on unscheduled tours. The system consisted primarily of sirens and the hope that someone would be awake to activate them.

The county has entered that particular moment when the garden centers smell like possibility and the checkout lines stretch toward infinity. The optimism is touching. The soil thermometers suggest patience might serve better than enthusiasm, but March is not interested in such distinctions. In McKinleyville, someone has planted sunflowers already. They stand in neat rows, small and determined, betting everything on an early spring.

Until next week,
Lady Humboldt