From headwaters to sound
My dreams within Environmental Education are like that of the Skagit River’s watercourse.
From its headwaters, my dream begins in the tiniest of raindrops, collecting in glaciers perhaps and trickling down to alpine streams. The dream builds to a river, solidifying as do the sturdier banks supporting the way of the water. Weaving out and around, the dream’s course is composed, at times, of rapids raging, then pooling in softer shallows. It exits the mountain peak domain to enter a gentler, more gradual flow—that of farmland and forest—though still bringing with it reminders of the lessons learned in higher places. The channel widens, as does my dream’s scope, the hint of salt in freshwaters. As river converges with ocean, a chorus commences. Ideas, like nutrients, swell. Life is rich, vibrant. Just as the Skagit River feeds the Salish Sea, so the sea replenishes the river.




Robert Michael Pyle, looking cool while teaching about butterflies at Early Winters Campground in the Methow Valley.
Dennis Paulson teaching dragonflies near Pipestone Canyon in the Methow Valley.
Bob’s beloved and trusty butterfly net Martha took a beating on this day, but she has been broken and fixed and broken again and fixed again several times, so I expect she’ll live on.
A highlight of the day was when Dennis discovered, and then netted, a rattlesnake near the mouth of Pipestone — a very versatile naturalist, that Paulson! (The snake was released unharmed moments later.)
Katie Roloson paints the scenery on the shores of Diablo Lake, with Colonial and Pyramid Peaks in the distance, during a class with
That which we do not speak of makes its presence known