Eric Outterson
Professor Hank Art
October 9, 2009
3:00 PM
4:10 PM
55ÂşF
The Familiar
I arrived at Stetson Woods today knowing exactly how to be prepared. I quickly greeted a breeze-free mist and my ever faithful stratus companion. I told him, “I almost thought you wouldn’t come this week!” Seattle’s weather seems to enjoy excursions to Stetson Woods exactly when I do. Ignoring my anything but fair-weather friend, I stepped down into the damp soil where I encountered another acquaintance, a mosquito. After making sure that there would be no bad blood between us I moved along, confident that I knew the neighborhood well.
An unfamiliar chipmunk, however, greeted me with a quiet “cheep” and quickly darted under one of the many large schist rocks that sit on the hillside near Thompson Chapel.
Eager to be better acquainted with this shy personality, I lowered a stick into his hiding spot, only to hear “cheep” from an adjacent rock. He quickly darted out from under this rock and under scurried another. I searched hard, but had no luck finding him. I followed the central swath of rocks and realized that for every visible surface rock, there were at least three or four concealed beneath thin leaf and soil cover. I could see why the chipmunk could escape from me so well.
With my friend gone, I had choice but to listen to see where he would turn up. Unfortunately, all I could hear at first were noises caused by people; cars started up and passing pedestrians talked about missing Mountain Day. Strangely, there wasn’t even a light breeze to ruffle the leaves in the trees. For the next ten minutes the woods failed to produce sound.
I decided to take the time to dig in the dirt around the site. I encountered many asymmetric leaves that appear to slippery elm, but I can’t seem to pinpoint the tree. In combing the bramble for evidence of the tree location, however, I unearthed more signs of human influence. Mosses and leaves had helped a large block of cement masquerade as another piece of schist. I wondered if the Stetson woods were ever a drop site for used construction materials.
Suddenly, two successive bird calls interrupted those thoughts.  The first called from high in the canopy (with a quality of sound I thought similar to a crow) that started high and then dropped in pitch “Bee-ooo.” The other had a similar falling sound made a “tcheeew, tcheeew” sound. I thought I heard a third, but it was the familiar and (subjectively) cute “cheep” from a chipmunk I’d stepped near.
Aha! I saw where he was this, time and I wasn’t going to let him get away without getting his picture! Unfortunately, auto-focus only caught pictures of branches in his front before he disappeared by a tree stump. Examining where he had disappeared I realized that the six to eight inch schist and decaying root system provided a perfect cover for the small mammal. Using a small stick, I could reach straight easily two feet into a tunnel system..
Brushing off leaf cover in an 8 foot radius I was able to spot 3 different escape routes the chipmunk could have chosen. The most prominent emerged beneath the roots of red maple on the southern edge of the site. The hole initially appeared to be a modest two inches wide, as many leaves and thin roots obscured entrance. Brushing them aside revealed a burrow 12-14 inches in diameter and at least 2 feet in depth with a few pill bugs, millipedes, and ants.
Suddenly, my ears ring from the four o’clock chapel chimes. I was ready to give up on this chipmunk when suddenly four crossed my path. Two stopped face to face inches apart with the other two looking on. As the chapel bells began to play an unfamiliar song, one fell, exposing its large white belly and then began to wiggle upright. The upright chipmunk leaped onto the recently fallen one and three or four seconds later, they and their two companions scurry off.
As everything quieted down again, I was stunned. My visit had begun with great predictability and quiet but ended with orchestrated scene. The seemingly familiar Stetson Woods still has a lot left to show me.