Autumn in the headwaters is reminiscent of a nature painting. Shades of green leaves morph into a mixed composition of red, orange, and yellow. Temperatures drop, causing hues of brown to appear. As daytime temperatures decline, the amber light dims to satin gray. The original insignificant blob of transparent orange plasma rises from the underwater palace of cobble and marble substrate. The creature looks oddly shaped and absurd. For the first time, its eyes perceive the underwater world. With its yolk-sac still attached to its body, it attempts to explore outside the realms of its restricted home. He swims two feet at most. He feels frightened. He gravitates away from the fast current, escaping to the gravel with his underbelly pinned against the gravel. When ready, he awaits another opportunity. Days later, overcast gives way to blue-bird skies. In the streaming sunlight, may fly nymphs and adult caddisflies emerge in the burbling riffle. The outsized September caddisflies with their reddish-orange bodies dance on the surface of the bowl-shaped mid-channel pool. At three-inches long, he is a warrior amongst his smoltmates. The sudden surface disturbances triggers curiosity. His beady, little eyes focus upward. He swims upwards inches at a time, then pauses, and repeats again. His next episodic burst of propulsion is immediate and targeted at the water-air interface. Plop! Plop! A complete disappearing act and the other caddisflies contract their wings into overdrive to escape the foraging grounds. At last, our once reddmate that inherited his majesties’ senses used them wisely. To avoid being someone else’s dinner, he seeks shelter in a moss-covered log jam adjacent to large boulders.
While the Chinook Salmon smolts seek preparation for the cold temperatures of late autumn into the transition of winter, others were unfortunate. Dive-bombing king fishers dart through the white spruce branches overhanging above the riparian vegetation. Their enriched blue-colored eyes stare at the surface like a laser beam. Left to right, then right to left, they scan for young-of-the-year salmon hovering just below the surface. Other avian predatorsravens, seagulls, and merganserspartake in the clean up crew. Remaining salmon carcasses drift downstream into white spruce branches suspended below through the surface. Pieces of tan colored flesh, a physiological blueprint, hang from the branches like glittering ornamental tinsel from streamside alder and tamarack. It dries under direct sunlight. Terrestrial insects slowly inch their way down the bark towards the flesh. The first group appears followed by hundreds and then thousands. The salmon carcasses provide much needed malnourishment to the localized epifauna.
Winter is another wonderland in headwater heaven. Like the clouds above, the ground is a white canvas. All coloration erased with the sounds of an autumn breeze. At first glance, the river appears lifeless. The water is clear. The surface acts like a crystal-clear glass mirror that reflects images back to the naked eye. Deep lateral scour and debris-dammed pools are frozen with a hard layer of black ice. Multiple branches are embedded half-way through the ice. Located on the bottom in between the spaces of granite rocks below, another world exists. Stoneflies emerge from the porous space. They use their claws to attach to moss on the underside of rocks while others lay hidden in the periphyton. Their antennae wiggle back-and-forth to sense new habitat and immediate danger. Jointed legs equipped with sparse hairs and an underbelly with evenly-spaced gills form their bodies. Through the eye of a microscope, they resemble alien life forms. A three-segmented antenna, beady little eyes, and six legs arranged in two rows of three form its body designed for bottom exploration. Each step is delicate and careful, or else the river’s power is unleashed. Underneath the darkness, the stronger and improved mini-kings abandon their deep debris-dammed pool searching for stoneflies embedded in the periphyton. His nose bumps the periphyton. A school of black stoneflies rise. They attempt to escape. Their small size serves a disadvantage. He opens his mouth and contracts quick, satisfaction achieved. As winter continues, he will continue foraging in this habitat while he continues building muscle and fat reserves.
Spring is the biological rebirth of life. Daylight lengthens. Temperatures warm triggering surface runoff to cascade towards the shorelines. Fresh leaves bud from their branches. The marine-derived nutrients embedded in the soil give rise to new populations of Douglas aster, lupine, and bunchberry wild flowers. The first bees of spring hover onto the owers. Their proboscis is inserted into the petal. They extract the nectar and return to their spiral-shaped hives. As a long winter subsides and spring approaches, our mini-king is about four inches in length. His original silvery body changes to a subset of pink- colored parallel parr marks. Their location begins just behind the operculum gill ap and runs along the top of the lateral line until it borders the narrow region of its caudal peduncle. The chemical composition inside his body slowly changes. Nitrogen and potassium reverse their physiological roles. He is preparing himself for the great downstream outmigration to the marine environment. Other mini-kings congregate to join our singled- out individual. They have made it this far. Other challenges awaitRainbow Trout, king fishers, ravens, seals, bear cubs, and waterfallsthat reduce their survivorship. Any small cascading creek serves as temporary shelter and foraging habitat. A plethora of adult stoneflies and mayflies with an established full- grown set of wings dance in the lower reaches of these cascade creeks. The mainstem channel soon widens more. As the river exits headwater heaven, we reach the middle river. Here, a new migratory journey begins.
