Last Friday at the volcano.

I felt this odd compulsion to go to Mt. St. Helens, so I did.

Everyone else (Eemie, Rob, M, Beanie, and me) came along, too, despite the arduous three-hour drive there and three-hour drive back. We did it in one day! Beanie did great in the car, only asking, "Are we there yet?" when we'd arrived back in Seattle city limits.

I haven't been to Mt. St. Helens since 1989. (Hello, high-school-sweetheart! You know who you are --> *blows kiss*) The changes in the blast zone have been dramatic. Instead of a wasteland of trees knocked over like toothpicks and big chunks of pumice everywhere, the whole area around the volcano was like a wildflower garden: daisies, lupines, paintbrush, and dozens of other flowers I couldn't identify, up to my waist. Trees were coming back, most especially red alders (which is great, because they're nitrogen-fixers; they will enrich the soil for other plants) and noble firs.

I was a little disappointed that I couldn't easily find a chunk of feather-light pumice. It's fun to find a rock that can float! But no dice. I guess that stuff erodes away fast.

The volcano was actually steaming and extruding lava. Wow. It was awesome, and not just in that "Dude! Awesome!" kind of way. Really awe-inspiring.

But on to the fauna: I saw golden-mantled ground squirrels (which always take me back to my childhood visits to Lake Tahoe and Frenchman Lake). I also saw a single mule deer getting chased by bone-head park visitors (argh!). Mule deer look so attractive in their reddish summer coats, especially in a field of bright flowers.

I found some birds I was hoping to see: big, croaking ravens, a little male kestrel, and a savannah sparrow. No mountain bluebirds! Maybe next time.... On the drive down (around Centralia) I saw a circling flock of turkey vultures and a single soaring immature Swainson's hawk. Swainson's hawks are my old buddies from Montana; you don't see them around Puget Sound.

The real stars of the Mt. St. Helens trip were the bugs, though. There were so many ants, taking apart what stumps were left. Ants survived the 1980 blast by hiding underground. They've been working hard ever since, dismantling and dismantling.

I found a little blue beetle who knocked my socks off. I identified it later as a blue milkweed beetle (Chrysochus cobaltinus) with the help of the fine book "Bugs of Washington and Oregon" by John Acorn. As Mr. Acorn notes,

This insect is one of those insects that is so darn pretty you really can't walk past it without a second glance. It looks like a great big, carefully polished, shining, bright blue ladybug. Its body is round and plump, and its legs end in what might well be described as paws. In other words, it's a cute beetle and a gorgeous one as well.

We also found a long-faced carabid (Scaphinotus angusticollis), a handsome, giant beetle who favors eating snails and slugs.

And there were many little blue butterflies, painted ladies, swallowtails, and fritillaries. And ladybugs. And neon-blue damselflies. And huge dragonflies. And the biggest damn horsefly I've ever seen. It was an inch long; I'm not kidding.

Anyway, what a great day! I would have liked to do more hiking, but there's only so much of that you can do with a three-year-old in tow (although Bean can go a long way before tiring! He's a trooper.) M and I are planning another trip into the Cascades soon, sans Bean.