Author: EEC Forest Stewardship

The ewes held out till a greatly appreciated change in weather brought temperatures up out of the teens and back into the just above freezing optimal environment for lambing to begin. It’s been a later season than expected, though I put the ram out a little early this year. Timing is liminal in nature, unbound by hours, days, or breeding calendar expectations. Industrial commercial farming has invented controls through chemical and physical forces, which do constrain timing and success- at the cost of much effort and expense, still it’s profit driven, and will work long enough to get a pay out in the short run. We do the same thing with people, treating them as numbers with risk and return priority. The US conservative government knows more people means more debt slaves to capitalize on, and if they are born out of unwanted pregnancies due to the oppression of women, they are more likely to be debtors, held in the private prison system, or any number of other predatory money making abuse schemes inflicted on the many by a select few. But This is about lambing, so let’s get back to counting sheep.

The first lamb born at EEC this year is “Q”. He’s a healthy, dark brown single. It was a bit of a surprise, his dame usually throws twins, but she has skipped the past two years, so it was a celebration of her rekindled fertility. The following day, more vulvas were swelling up, signaling imminent labor in the flock. Once lambing starts, the hormonal signal moves through the whole barn, and ewes who are around the same time of pregnancy, drop together. I

t was by chance I canceled some weekend travel plans, and was there to fully drop in with the ewes. Katahdins are great mothers, and usually have smooth deliveries when they go down. Early signs of labor include continually pawing the ground, rubbing against things with their sides, and laying down. Being with the ewes to observe these behaviors reassures me of the ewe’s health and well-being throughout delivery. I’m on hand to assist and aid in connecting the ewe with her new lamb. I’m also watching to make sure the afterbirth is fully passed out of the birth canal, and that no second lamb is stuck. Other observations at the birth include seeing the new lamb suckle successfully, take in the colostrum, and that the ewe bonds well to her baby.

For the first round of lambing, the veteran ewes lead the charge. All three moms bonded right up to their single lambs and passed their afterbirths in a timely manner. I was a little concerned about one ewe who was so large, I actually did a check on her uterus to make sure there was no second lamb stuck. She was empty, so I sat back in relief and watched new born babies awakening into the world for the first time.

The ewes murmur to their lambs even in utero, so the babies know their mom’s unique voice when they are born. Here, Lupita cleans her lamb while making the murmur noise to link sight, sound, touch, and smell between the two beings. There are a ton of hormones going on too, along with many other chemical reactions we can’t see, and barely begin to understand. I’m sure a lot of mothers are smiling as they read this, knowing only too well how complex birthing really is, and the lifelong bond between mother and child. Though sheep are more herd driven than family bound, they do often stick together in family groups within the larger flock. The Leafhopper Farm Cascade Katahdin flock is so small, all the ewes are related in one way or another, so the flock is also fully family. Industrial flocks of thousands, often with many important individuals brought together to form vast herds, fracturing the familiar structure within them. EEC Forest Stewardship incorporates sheep in the restoration forest as place holders for the vast elk and deer herds that colonial expansion eradicated over a hundred years ago. Now our modest flock of sheep browses it’s way through select forest groves and across rotating pastures within a tight grazing landscape, turning vegetation into manure compost and quality clean meat for the community.

The sheep will slowly be phased out in another decade or so, as the goats were before them. We’re slowly rewilding the landscape, transitioning intensive farming into reforested mix of native and climate adaptive species with a focus on food, medicine, and materials people need to live lightly on the landscape. I remember this long term vision every moment I’m working with the sheep on this land. Our relationship, shepherd and flock, stretches back thousands of years in evolutionary history. Domestication of plants and animals allowed humans to build great civilizations, though I sometimes doubt the disruption in nature’s balance which has led to where we are today- an abusive race of people to our planet, even as some try to live lightly where they can. It’s a loosing battle against time, but these little lambs aren’t concerned with such vast concepts. A shepherd should be ignorant too, but an educated woman in 2025 can’t help but see the discrepancies and sigh. Instincts cannot be denied.

Speaking of instinct, Gill, our LGD Kangal is on duty too. He loved lambing time, and eagerly yelps when he hears a ewe in labor. To quiet him down, and sooth everyone involved, he comes into the barn to help. This lets him bond with the new lambs, and clean up the smell of blood so predators are not attracted to the birthing pens.

If a ewe does not eat her placenta after giving birth, I give it to Gill. He appreciates the rare delicacy of nutrient dense feasting. Still, his sensitive being knows the difference between snack bits and new lamb. He’s never harmed the newborns, and is allowed to stick around by the vulnerable ewes, who often butt away other curious ewes. He’s sleeping with the flock for the next few months, keeping watch and supporting the flock as he always does. What an amazing partner in this sheep venture.

Two more lambs come at the same time within 36 hrs. of the first drop. Also singles out of ewes who usually drop twins, I’m starting to realize I’m in an off year of production, most likely caused by overfeeding the ewes just before breeding. This happened because we had a mild summer with lots of rain, which gave the pastures a lushness, which lasted well into fall. Usually, in late summer the land dries up, and new growth slows down till the fall rains return. The ewes are naturally slimmed down, which encourages more regular ovulation with higher egg release, resulting in better chances of twins.

Overeating may have hindered fertility this year, but every lamb has been large and healthy, which will mean good weight on the bone come slaughter time in the fall. The two ram lambs are looking good, both brown. The single ewe lamb is a splatter of brown freckles on white. She also has a high count of wool in her coat, but she’s got a large frame, and might be a keeper for carcass size in future lambs. It’s really too early to tell much out of this bunch, but they are all healthy and content in the barn, with healthy happy mums feeding them ample milk from productive udders. That’s plenty of wins in the agricultural world here at EEC.

We take food for granted, have for the last couple of generations. My Grandmother remembered livestock at home. My mother did not have livestock. I have livestock because of a lifestyle moving towards slow food. There are eggs in the coop to enjoy, though I am not a big egg fan, I do like to bake with them, and sometimes scrambled with cheese melted in. Chickens at EEC Forest Stewardship play many roles on the landscape, eggs are sort of a bonus item, but I feed a grain with high protein for laying hens, so the input cost is high, egg prices help offset this expense. The grain is made in state, fully organic, and without corn and soy. There are freeze-dried meal worms in the mix. It’s the top quality grain available, and I should be charging $12 a dozen to make all the dollar expense back. However, the birds spread the high nutrient dense excrement across the fields, which would take machinery, additional cost in fertilizer, and time to equate that additional “work” done passively in my free range flock. They provide feathers- a rich calcium source for the land too. So much additional abundance, I only charge $10 a dozen now, finally raised up from $7.

In winter, the laying rate drops to 1-2 eggs a day. It’s typical in commercial operations, to keep lights and heat on the birds to keep them laying full time. This is a ton of added stress on the birds, and they live much shorter lives. Keep in mind all commercial eggs, no matter how organic and good, are forcing production out of their flocks for our modern consumer demands. It’s industrial farming, like any other livestock operation. At EEC, there is not added light and heat, so the ladies get the dark time of year off to rest and recoup. The cold months demand a lot of extra energy keeping warm, so the hens get that energy instead of having it taken by egg laying. It’s a better quality of life for the birds, and the live longer and lay longer. If commercial flocks were allowed this time off, we would all pay a lot more for eggs in winter, or even go without. Perhaps more folks would have backyard birds, but no, the avian flue is haunting agriculture. It’s why egg prices are so high.

In past blogs, I’ve talked about the potential for a sudden cull, and it’s ever present in the back of my mind. I’m planning to purchase some new layers next spring, but now hesitate, because of the risk of flue. I’d not thought this would be a major issue in my lifetime, but it was out of ignorance. As agriculture continues to industrialize, more and more concentrations of animal bodies and excrement, means higher chance of virus mutation and infectious spread. The same goes for people in densely populated cities, Though we like to think our own sewage treatment plants are enough, these concentrated infrastructures, usually along rivers and ocean shores, regularly discharge overflow into our wild waters, in much the same way lagoons outside commercial hog pens breech during floods. Chicken poop ended up in cow feed, which was news to me, but part of how bird flue jumped into dairy cows. It’s industrial choices like this which get us into trouble with the greater biology nature compels to stay in balance.

There is hope that new flocks of young pullets will soon be replacing the millions of birds culled, but the flue is still rampant, meaning more flocks will be culled, and I don’t see the industry rebounding any time soon. EEC cannot meet the demand of current clients, and cannot grow the flock here beyond about 30 for the health of the flock, land, and me- I work with them, clean up the coop, have the risk for contracting the avian strain if it does get into my flock, but I’ll still only charge $10. It’s still steep, but more in line with what we should pay for eggs from well kept flocks. That’s still just breaking even, not making profit to reinvest. Luckily, EEC is not branching out into industrial egg operations, so we don’t need to take out a lone to keep up. The meat chicken industry, which is really on another level from the egg producers, is a dark world of bad businesses and farmer abuse, not to mention the animal cruelty. Battery hen operations are just as abusive, but there are different business practices with the farmers. The industry has not made any promises about production returning to a rate in which the prices can be lowered. In the current profit nihilism of investor greed, we’ll probably never see egg prices lowering- why would they?

This collapse in the industrial food system should be a warning for society that there is great change coming. Food will become more and more expensive. It has been a scarce resource for many in this country already, especially lower income households, but the implosion is falling outward now, into suburban markets where shelves are sometimes empty now. With certain government shifts also coming on fast, we will see more agricultural fails, especially with the health system crippled, and our research on the dangerous viruses like avian flue put on hold. Four years may not seem like a long time, but in just a few weeks, the unraveling of governance will trickle down into our food systems. California farmers are concerned after a couple of reservoirs released water under Slander and Chief ordered action to extinguish the L.A. fires. Incompetent, in that non of that water flowed to L.A. and the farmers are now worried they won’t have enough irrigation water for the summer drought season, thus lowering food production.

What can we do to lower egg prices? How about asking what an egg is worth and why? It might come down to having chickens or not having chickens, or it might turn into no eggs, because the flue will take out all the birds, then cattle, which we have not been culling- because cows are holy- no, it’s because the cows are a heck of a lot more expensive, and it would destroy a dairy farm if you culled all the cows. Many chicken farmers are being put out of business or closing shop anyway because they can’t take the financial risk any more. Dairy farmers are taking a hit if their cows don’t recover from the flue, or get reinfected, but mass culling is not happening-yet. Don’t panic! The CDC guidelines regarding avian flue are still accessible. I encourage everyone to keep an eye on this site, and follow the agricultural information to know what’s in store for our groceries to come. Or just wait to see which shelves empty next.

If you can get a few backyard birds and not cuddle them, maybe invest in the spring. Applesauce is a great egg replacement in baking, I learned that when I lived with vegans in Vermont many years ago. There are lots of alternatives, but for many, the classic egg plays a deep roll in American dining. I understand why it’s such a blow to be paying a real price for them now. It is no laughing matter for people who truly rely on eggs as a cheap form of protein- that’s what Mom raised us on. I’m not sure what alternative she might have used, I’ll have to ask her. We certainly would not have raised our own birds, most people can’t do that, for a number of reasons. Practically, investing in local farmer’s markets, connecting with your nearest farming community by attending tilth meetings or investing in coops can strengthen local production and economy. Avoiding the bulk box stores when you can is the first major step towards reconnecting with local produce, another action would be to eat in season with what’s actually available. There are many ways to strengthen food webs and your place in them. What regular eats in your home can you shift to a more local source? You don’t have to change everything overnight, but having a stronger knowledge and connection to the basic needs makes for a more resilient self and community.

Winter chantrelles are a thing folks- this is a great picture of the species in a group also reflecting age stages. The floppy torn caps are older, and larger, while the bright yellow smaller fruits are young and ideal for harvesting. This species is often overlooked as a harvestable culinary mushroom, but it’s got the chantrelle subtle flavor typical of the family, and is most often fruiting December through February at lowland elevations free of frost. I’ve often found them on rotting stumps in large numbers. They were clumping up on large branches in a second growth buffer for The Snoqualmie River. I often note larger specimens in more mature forests along rivers. Perhaps it is the combination of forest age and nutrient dense floodplain soils that offer mushrooms a chance to maximize habitat conditions. Imagine what our bounty of wild food could be if we allowed nature her time and space to regenerate.

Winter oysters are also available in the woods during the cold dark times of year. They can be cream colored or blue-grey. These specimens are lighter in color, but also older, and blanching. They are growing on alder. I’ve also seen them fruiting on birch. They are a shelf mushroom. Even if a heavy freeze comes, this species will hold it’s meaty flesh together and remain edible through it’s fruiting. These mushrooms usually bloom in larger standing dead groves, and are usually plentiful where present. Note fruiting locations, as they will continue during optimal conditions in the wood for many years. Even after alder snags fall to the ground, oysters will still fruit off them for a few more years, until the wood is too broken down and leeched for their needs. When the environment signals change, a mushroom rely on future spores to regenerate in new parts of the forest to maintain the species. The past generations decline and disappear, allowing the space to change and regenerate. Imagine if a mushroom tried to keep in place and remain decomposing the landscape. Inputs would have to be brought in to maintain the mushroom habitat, completely disrupting the natural cycle and degrading overall production capacity.

This noodle mushroom, also known as the cauliflower mushroom Sparassis, grows up from the root of surrounding fir trees. It’s parasitic, but not aggressive in a grove. This one was past it’s prime, but still a good find in winter- it would have been fresh a few hours ago. The fruit of some mushroom species can spoil fast, but with no way of timing wild flushes, getting eyes in the woods and dirt time seeking the fungi friends makes for the best opportunity in harvest success. Sparassis is edible, and does taste like egg noodles, but you have to spend some time carefully cleaning them. Their basidiocarp grows around anything it comes in contact with while forming on the ground- needles, twigs, moss- and you’ll need to cut those bits out before cooking. This mushroom is meaty and nutritious, but very subtle in flavor, so add plenty of veggies, savory broth, and flavor to bring out the best culinary experience when eating.

All three of these mushroom varieties are great edible delights to hunt in the woods. They also have no poisonous look alike, but like I always say, if you are going to go hunt mushrooms to eat, go with someone who knows and do not take chances. A brave mushroomer is a dead mushroomer, so stick to what you know. My mentee- who also took and shared these pictures while we were out, took the photos to help her ID the mushrooms and learn, but we chose not to harvest any, and that was fine. I’m picky about what I’ll pick in the wild, both to conserve what is there, and because I want fresh food. With mushrooms, fresh is always best.

Gratitude to the fungal kingdom, the ecology that supports it, the cooperation of the life that surrounds us, and our place within it. So much good food if we keep tending wildness.

The scientists in this film sum up what this blog is trying to address. In being a small farm with local inputs, EEC Forest Stewardship is trying to shift a small 10 acre plot into an abundant forest farm. In restoring a little patch of ecology, we hope to form some small place of adaptability and resilience in this fast changing ecological response to human abuse.

Hard step into what only a week ago sunk my feet into slick mud. The benefit is access, yet frozen water does not accommodate swallowing when we’re taking a drink. Most people would opt for plug in heaters, but not at this barn, we’re off grid, and until the investment of solar panels, the place is a little more work, but worth the observations and good animal husbandry. I like be attentive to the watering needs of my animals, it says a lot about their health and well being. The well water is well above freezing, and when I deliver it to them, it stays unfrozen through the day. In the evening, a second well water helping keeps much of the ice out. Edges still form around the edges of the buckets over time, so I rotate them out every few days for a passive solar deicing. The system folds in well with my trough cleaning duties anyway, and I don’t find I’m spending that much more time- the well is on the way to the barn, and the extra carrying is part of my complementary gym system, so I’m getting a well earned work out with custom weight lifting. What a life!

I’ve learned not to fight the ice, but to use patience and timing to aid in preventing build up. There are some systems that have to be abandoned in the short term. Temperatures have remained below 30 at night for almost two weeks. During the day, valuable sunlight raises the ambient air to well above freezing, and direct rays soften everything enough to knock out and refresh. The large open trough, which I usually scoop water from for the flocks and dog, remains full through winter rains. I leave the big trough to melt when temps warm up in a few more days- or after the snow storm this weekend? The start of February 2025 might see us get a dusting, or blanket of that white stuff associated with the season at hand. It’s a wild new frontier in weather folks, I’m excited.

The geese are protesting this hard knock. The Cotton Patch originate in southern regions, where the material crop grows. I explained that even Louisiana is experiencing sustained freezing after a polar vortex bullied down from Canada. That’s what we get for calling it the 51st state- poor Porto Rico? So ice- yeah, that’s how my mind works. Shattered fragments scattered around the farmyard. (this metaphor is not lost on me) But here in Western Washington, the temperate returns, and all the clutter will slow melt back into the soil, hydrating and setting up for the spring sprouting soon to come. The Osoberry is my favorite timer for Spring’s return- it’s already got plump buds, you’ll see white cascading raceme flowers by March. Stinging nettle is popping up in the sunny spots. Microclimates are key here in Cascadia. If you know where to look, there’s always something in the pantry. With the ground as hard as rock, most of the food my livestock enjoys comes from a bag or bale; inputs still coming in on the almighty dollar. Thanks to all who buy food from this farm- it keeps overwintering possible.

I’ve talked about taking the animal systems down to a sustainable number for the farm to be completely self sufficient, but it would then be a homestead, not a farmstead. It might come down to that in future- that’s sort of the retirement plan. Today, ice is the trending encounter here at EEC, and it’s nice to see a solid freeze come, because it’s killing off some of the bugs and fungus and other living things that need a cull. These are such crucial cycles in nature, signaling my own body to get more sleep, slow down when it gets dark, rest. So I do. It’s a pleasant time to enjoy the hearth and home. Gratitude for this fire that warms my house and tends my spirit through the dark times. It makes going out into the cold to break ice and carry water good to endure.

Light and time flow through ice- it’s in the shadows. Marking the melting point of each crystal, vanishing in the greatest magic- movement. Each blade of grass suspended in white frost, erect presence crunching under foot. Tracks of crushed green vegetation, erased by dawn stretching out across field and forest, deconstructing water, so many chemical changes in an instant, over and over again. This hold of winter’s grip- squeezing molecular structure so tight, the ground swells into crystal fingers pushing up out of the soil. This hardening of the ground becomes muddy in the warmth of the sun, but returns to concrete at dusk. Stark changes throughout the day, keeping me on my toes as I water and feed the flocks. The animals know change is in the air.

When I get up each morning, I put on gloves, layer to keep out the cold, and head to the well house where empty buckets await. 10 gallons go to the sheep, then another 10 between dogs, chickens, and geese. It’s a little more hauling, but again, I’m there in person, checking things, noticing two of my sheep are looking ready to lamb soon, and noting it’s time to add fresh bedding in the barn. Being present in these more extreme weather changes is crucial to good animal care. The flocks drink more when it’s cold, so again in the afternoon, I make the rounds of each trough, carrying another 10 gallons to top off water and lift out any remaining ice. As it shatters around me on the ground, I think about the next warming time, and know all this clutter will melt away on it’s own. Waiting out winter is an art we spend half our lives learning. The other half we sit in the warmth of a wood stove with hot tea in hand, thankful for a warm home and working well house.

Our monkey minds like repetition and the familiar. Those aspects are almost opposites in many ways- repetition being a form of learning, while the familiar stagnates the mind, allowing little nuance for evolutionary thought. It does not seem to be nature’s way in holding things the same for too long. Diversity and constant adaptation run a muck in what we as mere humans see as one easy to take a glance at landscape. This field pictured above, the bramble and overgrowth might make it hard for some to identify as field, there are trees around, but a white electrical tape on the fence line creates transition between field and grove beyond. A withered brown pile of bracken fern collapses in the background. Because I know the species, I can see the delineations, even without man-made cues. But what I can’t pick out so easily are the changes happening. The soil and what’s growing on within it cannot be perceived from this perspective. Time of day is hard to put down, other than recognizing it is not first light or dusk. There were some birds calling and flitting around, which are not easy to find in this image. While you are looking for birds, did you find the deer? She just moved into some cover, but she’s close, and her black tail is highlighted.

I only saw her on my drive because she had been standing in the field just moments before I took this picture. I’d stopped to take photos of her when I first saw her as I drove by. The deer feel sight on them, and will find relief from a predator stare by ghosting into thick brush and shadow to avoid a direct sight-line. Deer are great at standing still, it’s really the best way to avoid being seen. She was positioned as narrowly to the road as she could be while grazing, and stopped to hold a pose when I slowed to take photos.

Her body slowly shifted left towards the brush to get away. Why did she not just run away? Because I had not chased towards her. If she had bolted, I might have given chase. Most predators want to catch something, run it down. We’re taught not to run from predators, but to face them and project size and might. Deer don’t want any confrontation, and try to quietly disappear. Those long stilted legs will still carry them swiftly if they do need to run, but thick brush won’t allow much dexterity for fast movement.

The dynamic connections passing across place through time are crucial to understanding the connectiveness of all things. What we see in a gimps of that living structure, is only the tip of so much complexity thriving and reliant together in community. The blackberry needs sunlight, so it takes over ungrazed or mowed pasture. Grasses and forbs feed several species, one of which is present in the doe that browses through. She is keeping a cleared hoof-path through the open-ground, with side trips to cover and a knowledge of maneuvering through the underbrush. Deer can duck down- even crawl on their knees to get through tight forest spaces. Other hedge edge neighbors include raccoons, opossum, and rabbit. Most of those smaller furies are out at night, a perspective even less of us spend much time observing.

Nocturnal observing is not our strength. As daylight treetop dwellers, our ancestors stayed off the ground and away from predators, who usually hunted in the cloak of night. Today, tools like headlamps and guns make us feel less vulnerable in the dark, but our senses are altered, and perceive places much differently than during the day. Even with the headlamps of my truck pointed at him, this mature buck blurs in my camera’s attempt at capturing movement at dusk. Our eyes can still make out an animal form, and might even clue in to the antlers and general shape of a buck, but without crisp outlines, out minds throw into question what we perceive.

These images are at close range, looking at a focused part of a much bigger whole. Most of the time, our procesing works best with a single frame, or a set of consecutive images of familiar style. Movies are best with plots lines and characters we feel something towards. Nature has been treated like the other for so long now, she’s usually just background noise to what we want to focus on. We look for the deer at dusk on the road, but it’s really the road we’re following. The convenience of travel, pavement and cars, give us such advantage, but it’s been a real tragic saga for most deer populations across this country and the world. Rather than holding that thought and questioning automotive centric living, we push the deer into a ditch and keep driving.

We look at the road and see the deer in our peripheral, then it’s gone, fading into the tall grass and overgrown bramble, into the backdrop of our important lives. As a hunter, I see the deer as a crucial part of my survival, as a winter food source I can count on each year. When I see deer, I look at them when I can. Checking their health, looking for mange, ribs, or a thick healthy neck in fall. These deer I’ve shared in photos today are my home animals, the deer that live around my own home, and share the land with me. They are still numerous and healthy, but if that balance starts shifting, I know to pay closer attention to greater goings on in my neighborhood.

The plants already tell me the water table is dropping. Our creek flooding in winter remains lower each year. Their will be record breaking storms to come, but the rhythm of familiar is unraveling. This is what we can all take more time to see and adapt with. Humanities’ best work happens in times of great adversity. I am watching the fires in Los Angeles in January, 2025. It could be here next, we’re only one drought summer away from total devastation, but the waters are still around, for now. Because the deer have survived our devastation, and still roam through the fields and along our roads without fear. We too must adapt and make changes to stay alive, sometimes crossing a road and not getting hit, risking to gain. This is nature’s lesson of finality.

This truck is death on a pale horse. There’s something going on in the woods here in Western Washington, and across the country in our agricultural fields. It’s a practice that’s not getting enough attention, and I’ve spoken of it before. Forever chemicals are being spread across the land as the answer to “What do we do with all our poo?”. I shit you not- we’re spreading it on food growing soil and in the woodlands which filter our drinking water. Yes folks, you’re eating and drinking toxic sludge, and it’s killing you. Forever Chemicals are linked to cancer, birth defects, and much more. Yet the industry spreading the poop says it’s our own fault these chemicals are in the sludge. They also want you to know it’s not in the sewage treatment, just the sewage- which is spread on the ground, after treatment.

Today’s writing is about forever chemicals, but I will also mention heavy metals and prescription drugs are also in our sewage. Washington’s LOOP system reported a short list of metals well below EPA minimum concentrations here. Please know the research is slim in this arena, but the idea to spread sludge on our croplands and forests is still in action in almost every state, with no guardrails on some very dangerous chemicals. I’ve shared information in the past regarding the consequences of spreading biosolids in agricultural soils, and you can review that info here. In a nutshell, biosolids contain forever chemicals, and if they are concentrated, which is inevitable in treated sewage, the soil and water in areas where this toxic mush is spread becomes contaminated and unsafe for people- not to mention every other living thing affected. Why is this happening? Surly there is oversight. Sure, in theory.

Here’s a brief story of NYC’s shit and how it’s regulated.

The EPA Biosolid Regulations

EPA Biosolid Heavy Metal Breakdown

EPA Chemicals Found in Biosolids

There are no measurements of Forever Chemicals in offical studies. The EPA has not created measurement standards yet, but The European Union has. Their exact mesurment maximums are set here. Many other harmful chemical toxins are present in biosolids. In the EPA list above, I looked up two components to find out more. 4-Nitrophenol is used as a pH measurement (the color changing strips), but no studies on genotoxicity or carcinogenicity have been done. Hexachlorobiphenyl, a PCBs, which Washington State is trying to phase out of industrial production, because of its toxicity. We know this compound is present in biosolids, along with countless other with little known about their long term affects. It’s starting to cause noticeable changes in the environment, and in 2024, the EPA began trying to establish measurements for data analysis to set standards. They have a “roadmap” for drinking water standards. There is no actual regulation and testing going on publicly yet.

I’m not a chemist, but the idea of even considering treated sewage as organic seems negligent on the part of regulatory authority. Because of how widespread forever chemicals already are in the environment at dangerously high levels- where most of the studies being conducted are tied to drinking water at this time. 4 parts per trillionth is the going safe number for drinking water, which echos the EU standard. Web MD put out a helpful info sheet on PFSAs here. The current national database measuring PFSAs in our water can be found here. All this information may seem like a lot, and some of the data is still young, but we’re starting to realize just how much toxicity is now swirling in our very bodies, and consumed literally in what we eat and drink on a daily basis. It’s contaminated, and farms all over the country are waking up to government seizure of property, animals, and crops, while polluters continue to sidestep clean water protection, ignore contamination of industrial byproduct, or flat out blame the public for it’s household items purchased.

It is our fault, as a society, for not taking the time to learn about our chemistry before we unleashed it on ourselves. Out of sight out of mind- like nuclear waste, air pollution, water contamination, and food toxicity. If the water is clear with only a little chlorine smell, it’s clean right? Our healthcare system won’t put the finger on environmental cause, just keep donating to cancer research and we’ll see. Better living through chemistry, and technology- both of which are the mass polluting causes of our very extinction. Soon everything will be “all natural” because after all, even plutonium is organic.

First thing in the morning, a friend and I took off into the wilds of The Central Cascades. It was cold, and there was a fresh dusting starting at about 1000′ of elevation. Our intentions involved snow shoeing to a lake at 2600′. The dusting was easy to drive through, allowing the trucks to get up rather steep mountain climbs without much concern. I’d already spotted a few tracks along the side of the road as we drove, but knew they would still be there on the way back. We topped the major climb onto an upper plateau with excellent views of the greater Puget Lowlands, Bellevue, and Seattle; with The Olympic Mountains as a spectacular backdrop. It’s a great place to take a few pictures on a clear day, which we were enjoying as the sun rose over the eastern crest of Mount Si.

As we stopped to take in the crisp morning light, I took a closer look at the tracks along the road and smiled, it was a cougar trail, fresh, and probably heading away from the sound of our approach. The conditions were ideal for tracking, every detail of each step was captured clearly in the fresh snow. Slight dragging of his paws as he shifted down hill, turning his head to glance at tracks where some deer had come through earlier. In the moment, my buddy commented they were sad not to have brought a gun for personal protection. I pointed out we had three dogs, and that the cat was moving away from our presence. It was good to be aware of a big cat in the area, and acknowledge apex predators are always around in the wilds of The Pacific Northwest. Awareness of all hazard potentials should be in the back of the mind of any outdoor enthusiast choosing to adventure in western woods. My friend agreed, and pointed out that the cougars are invisible when there is not fresh snow to track in.

After some good appreciation of our big cat friend and his reveal in the sign we’d had the privilege to find and learn from, along with acknowledging all the other creatures and lessons being offered that day, we continued our drive towards the trail to our lake destination with renewed vision for tracking. No other tracks showed up on the road, but after a bit of hiking up into thicker forest on DNR land, we began to see two animals common in the area- snow shoe hare, and Douglas squirrel. Getting a good read on the differences between these two sets of tracks is a great journey of never ending lessons. The dogs friends we had with us were not helpful track observers, more like track and sign destroyers. It was still good to have them along, and they often pointed us towards sign we might have missed, being deficient in smell and hearing, compared to our canine friends. Still, if tracking is your focus in an outing, leave the pups behind for the best results in learning and observation. That goes for seeing wildlife as well. We were plowing through the woods with our enthusiastic pack, working on a destination and good movement, as well as observation. It was a magical day.

The adventure into back country winter wonderland took a little over 4 hours round trip. We walked until the snow was too deep, then put on our snow shoes and headed on up through three alpine lakes on a slow, but steady climb with panoramic views. Our trip up was breathtaking, as we were breaking trail and often crossing over shallow crevasses of creek flow. The dogs sometimes let us choose the best crossing routs, Other times, they picked a path and we sometimes followed. Snow shoes do not have the same advantage as clawed 4×4 paws along steep banks. Luckily, we managed to ford crossings without major incident, and the water was inches deep, so there was no real worry if we stepped in. At one point, the bank was so steep, I got on my knees to climb out, pulling myself up the slope on all fours. It was a great time, I really do love full immersion in the landscape.

The texture of frozen water can vary so much, our dusting lay on firmer base, which held us up on our hike. As we ventured deeper into elevation gain, the snow volume mounted until our path widened and obstacles shrank beneath the thickening quilt of white. The snow changed the landscape considerably. My familiarity with landmarks remained strong, as the surrounding peaks, forest groves, and well maintained trail carried us confidently past the first lake, onto and around the second, and up over a saddle, dropping down a gentle path to the third. By then, we were ready for a snack and some rest in the sun upon the frozen “field” stretching out before us. I was comfortable stepping onto the shallow (inches) area of the lake I am familiar with from swimming in summer. We did not try to go out into deeper areas to stay safe. The sun was warm enough to relax in, and even the dogs lay down to catch a rest and maybe a taste of our snacks, no! They would earn their kibble though. We all worked hard through the snow, enjoying the cold winter sport of mountain adventure.

On out return. the trail was made, and we could take our time enjoying the snowshoe hare flitting in and out of the spruce and mountain hemlock underskirts, where tree wells that endanger skiers, offer shelter to small mammals living under the snow. A few fresh squirrel crossings appeared on our way home. We were becoming familiar with the trail sign and could spot what pattern heralded which species. Snow tracking on fresh powder makes the game of spotting wildlife sign easy and enjoyable for all skill levels. Stories fill the forest for all to explore and discover.

As we packed up to head down the mountain, I took another look down the draw, back into the valley and cities, then beyond to the towering range on The Olympic Peninsula and appreciated the vast place we live. My company and I were in awe, slowly driving back along the road home, stopping to observe the change in those cougar tracks after a day in the sun. There had been a few very light breezes, but nothing besides time and some UV had done much to change the sign of our carnivore friend. As we trailed along, a new set of tracks appeared that had not been present in the morning on the way in. The cougar tracks remained steady and direct in a streight line heading east to west up a side road, avoiding our vehicles as we had come driving up the mountainside earlier that morning. Now, another cat had appeared, coming down out of the clear cut to the side road and cutting across the easy terrain, then catching the scent or sign of the cougar and hanging a left to come right into the larger cat’s trail. It marked the intersection of the two paths, then paralleled, before stepping right into the tracks of the cougar, pacing slowly up the hill.

Our narrative built on the possibility that the bobcat was trailing the cougar in hopes of some scraps form a meal. There is a possibility that the smaller set of tracks could be a younger cougar, but it would be quite small for the time of year, and hours behind mom. The cougar tracks are large, and I leaned towards thinking it was male, but I’m not positive, and it would be hard to make any assumptions, only educated guesses.

The light was warming as the sun began to touch a ridge line to the southwest. A warming uplift rose against the mountainside and we watched a family group of bald eagles kettling up into the sky in the evening light. It was magical, and a beautiful symphony of gliding wings and soaring spirit, stretching down into our hearts as we witnessed an ancient sunset ritual preformed with each sun cast approach, the golden hour signaling the exchange of day to dusk.

Much further down the road, after we had descended from the plateau and the kettling great birds, I checked the set of tracks passed earlier that morning. It was another cat, though these were very clearly bobcat and solo. It had skirted close to the brush along the roadside, and ducked down into the forest before the bridge, not using it to cross the sizable creek. The tracks pick up again on the other side of the road where the smaller predator feline popped back out of the brush and trotted on down the wide, easy lane. Three wild cats in one day, what a gift! The snow tracks melted away as we drove further down back towards the great valley rivers and home.

There’s a lot of winter wonderland to enjoy at the start of the new year. I’ve been trying to get into the mountains on a weekly basis for some snow shoeing and nature observation. One week I’ll be in 6″ of fresh powder, and the next, and ice coated shell melted back to mountain’s edge. This trip, I looked at the transition from clear cuts in the tree farm, vs. the BLM land just beyond that I can gain access to on foot. Val and I took a beautiful calm day after a weekend of rainstorms to see what was left of our first big snow of the year. It was a dramatic melt back from what I had seen the week before. This is the epic change one can experience in The Cascades. Fresh powder does not usually last long here in our rainforest mountains. But just a few hundred feet below the freezing point, a different world stands as testament to our consumer demand here in The Pacific Northwest and beyond.

Washington State is a timber resource provider, though these days, we’re cutting young wood to make laminated products, so the age of a tree is moot. Gone are the days of big timber logs in this part of the world, through just a few hours north in British Colombia, old growth is still being cut to provide building materials in The US and abroad. Millions of board feet are shipped to Asia every day, carrying off the biomass of one ecology, to support the destruction of ecology elsewhere- what progress. I see the signature of human devastation each time I enter the tree farm for recreational activity, and though I deeply appreciate the access, what I witness in resource management can be gut wrenching. After cutting and hauling off the younger trees, the GMO plantation replant is followed by herbicide application (multiple times) and then the spreading of treated sewage from our nearby cities. This last more recent part of tree farming offers the land a boost of nitrogen, along with a spreading of forever chemicals across the landscape to pollute our soil and water.

Clear cuts are sometimes hard to imagine unless you have been to them. Hundreds of acres are often cut at once. The replanted trees are funded by green wash carbon credits. Whenever you see “more than a millions trees planted” on some packaging unrelated to forests, it’s a harmful consumer company trying to make people feel better about their disconnect from the environment. Most, if not all the trees planted are in tree farms, where they will be cut for profit, never allowed to grow into mature trees. Where else do you think all these trees are magically being planted? You think there are new forests protected to old growth age? No, there are no new forests going in, unless it’s to cover up industrial pillaging in Superfund sights where people have no other option but to release toxic land from development because of pesky EPA rules, which will soon be buried for the sake of progress. Apartheid raised South African Musk and his space penis will see to that.

We are all asleep at the wheel when it comes to the real goings on in our environment, and that’s worked for generations of cancer victims, fatal neurological disorders, and an endless list of other environmentally caused human conditions that end in early death. Sorry to flush the dreams folks, but we’ve been flushing mother nature down the toilet for so long now, caring is too late. Take in the pollution- your body is, every day. Future generations will be filled with chemicals that rewrite our very DNA, and not for the better. Healthcare will not treat the preexisting conditions we find ourselves in thanks to industry under sight. Who cares? Drill baby drill! Cut baby cut! The precious few spaces left trying to recover form man’s misuse will not be enough wild space to save us from ourselves. This is the legacy I look at each time I transition from the cutting, into the “protected” land just beyond. It was still cut in the 1970s, and only remains uncut now because of elevation, slope, and scree piles that would shatter the trees if they were felled.

It’s hard to get a read on how big these alpine Douglas firs are, but I put valley on a fallen trunk along one of the trails in the BLM land to try to show you the girth of these old growth trees, which, because they are alpine scree trees, grow much slower, and are way older than their bulking size would have you believe. Still, you can see stumps from the legacy of logging that got into every forest they could reach- and may again if we have reason for it. During WWII, a whole sections of Olympic National Park was given over to logging for the air and space industry. In the quick stroke of a pen, any part of our ecological fabric can be torn apart, and sometimes, no pen is needed, just a trusty saw and some ego trying to prove dominion over all things- like the bible says. It’s a loosing battle for all of us in the end. Our heritage of consumption will have us all in the pot boiling soon. The hottest year is yet to come, and people will slow cook to death for our mishandling of the planet. This mishandling is perpetuated now by corporate bodies who say profits over people and we all cheer, seeing out meager money investments grow on a passing screen. Thanks booming economy.

When we watch Lord of The Rings, Wicked, Star Wars, or any other good vs. evil saga, how do we miss the part about us being the bad guys to our own environment? I know it’s not always easy to sort good and bad- watch any Miyazaki film and you’ll learn this. Our fire of industry has run away with nature, forcing her into “natural resources” instead of complex habitat for life- our lives. We don’t care if our streams and creeks are cemented underground so we can build a new affordable housing complex. We scoff at clean water protection because it hinders space travel. Who cares if the birds are dying? Yet we are pissed eggs got so expensive. Still, no one asks why-good bye critical thinking. We’re learning not to question any more, or follow the money, or even leave our homes to go outside when there is a new episode streaming. So we sit in Plato’s cave and stuff our faces with cheap eatings- courtesy of highly processed crap. Just reach for your Ozempic and carry on. WAKE UP PEOPLE! This is the end of life as we know it, the next great extinction caused by US. We are still buried in ignorance, or more likely, denial. What can we do with such a thing as this industrial complex of military design? How can each of us stop buying in? Getting an electric car is not the answer.

Our first step is admitting there’s a problem, then making a small list of the top 3 things we can do to change our pattern of consumption.

1. Walk away from bulk buying stores and online shopping.
2. Embrace carpools, public transit, and drive less.
3. Get off social media.

Then reeducate yourself-

1. Learn about the real cost of your consumption.
2. Investigate global resources and how you use them. (smart technology is especially bad)
3. Exercise your buying power locally.

The tech world is caught up in AI and bitcoin- it takes more resources than we have left for human kind to power these ideas. The companies developing tech know this, and are already taking legal action to protect their industries at the cost of local neighborhoods and towns. Meanwhile we get on these platforms and use them to do the work we should be doing for ourselves. Brain rot is the word of the year folks. Our bodies are rotting too- like the piles of slash and unwanted wood product cut by the machines in our tree farms, we too pile up and rot in far away places like Gaza and Ukraine. But a New Year’s Eve terrorist attack in New Orleans becomes the headliner for a week while we forget about the world terror inflicted on everyone daily. Fear of famine grips one part of the world, while another worries about rescheduling a football game. Yes folks, this is our path as American consumers. Once our right to protest has been knocked down for security reasons, we’re left silenced, in our online cages, like pods in The Matrix. We’ve all taken the red pill and happily gone back to sleep. Heart disease will get us before any terrorist in this country. But for children, guns are the number one killer. WAKE UP!

I stand looking over The Snoqualmie Valley from the edge of The Central Cascades, standing on recently clearcut land overlooking thousands of acres of tree farm, and beyond that, towns and cities stretching to Puget Sound. Washington State is less densely populated than a lot of other regions in our country, but it’s the home of tech industry. People here are lured into a false sense of security, surrounded by snow covered mountains and lush green stretching in all directions. North of us is British Colombia and Alaska, frontiers of ecological adventure and wilderness we are not worried about loosing. Tar Sands and The Arctic National Wildlife Refuge are forgotten as we sip our hot coffee and tap away at our screens. When someone shoots up a school, we share thoughts and prayers, but cannot conceive of what pain brought an individual to such murderous rage. We cannot understand why summer smoke clogs our cities, fills our lungs, and takes years off our lives. It would not occur to most of us that we are no longer thriving, because just day to day surviving has become the norm for so many. Without time to sit and reflect, we’ve all been caught up in the hamster wheel of making enough money, earning a living, paying our dues.

The opportunity to take time outside, driving to access the wilds, this is privilege. To sit here typing out what we’re all missing adds to my place of power, to see, reflect, and share. I’m only reaching a few people with these words, and shutting down a few more who don’t want to acknowledge the truth in my rant- that we’re all caught up in something we can’t seem to get out of. Small steps. There are so many little things each of us can do in our quest for change. This first, and most simple, is to turn away from the screen and go outside. Even if you live in a congested city, go outside and look up, look around, where is the nearest green space? Where do the birds fly? How many ants crawl across the pavement at your feet? How many rats live in the wall? I lived in NYC, on Manhattan Island, and still there was nature all around. Remember, people are part of nature, we are animals too. Our development is like all animal construction, only ours remains out of sync with what the natural world constrains, until climate change redistributes the energy we’ve massed back into geologic time, and our little blip of harm will come to naught in the grand scheme of the universe, which we have no power over at all.

As I walked around the frozen lake at alpine elevation, I was struck by the two tone color of the ice. It was a momentary mystery for my monkey brain to grapple with. Why was one part of the lake darker than the other? Then I took a bit of time to study my surroundings, watched the light shifting across the peaks, and it came to me. A mountain’s shadow was keeping part of the lake colder and denser than the part in sun. A mere shadow, cast from a great peak. Then I noticed the cracked ice along shore and wondered what caused that change in the lake’s surface. Again, nature revealed herself through observation. A light breeze picked up and gently swayed the surrounding trees, the sound of a wild forest signing. I thought of how tremendous a storm might come roaring through this open landscape and realized wind would push the ice up against shore, cracking the edges as pressure built up. Another mystery solved by taking in all the surrounding inputs, even when they were not present. It’s time traveling. Nature is so complex, yet we humans keep trying to put her into compartmentalized measurements of timber feet, tones of minerals extracted, and how much energy can be sucked from her corps once we drill deep down and pump her full of chemicals to make the taking easier on our machines.

The winds of change are coming, slowly pushing back on our hubris, reminding us how little control we have in our lifetime, yet reflecting on the abuse we’ve inflicted on ourselves and each other though greed. It’s not about stability any more, it’s about how much profit we can squeeze out of every measurable thing- human life, natural resources, stocks and bonds, company productivity, energy consumption. The Colorado River is not enough water for The Southwest States. Our agricultural land is now toxic with treated sewage, polluting the best food growing soil left in our nation, and we’re exporting it abroad for profit, instead of feeding our own people. We cut the forests down to build cheap goods that will end up in land fills, so we can buy more. Influencers are busy telling us what fast fashion to buy today, or what new streaming garbage to watch. Listen to this hip podcast and worry about true crime. True crime is our tune out on mother nature. Once it’s gone, we can’t easily bring it back. We don’t think in lifetimes to come, only how big our money market account grew this year, and how we can dodge taxes, penalties, and regulations to get the best deal.

As I’ve said many times before- we can’t eat, drink, or breath money. When the smoke, microplastics, and forever chemicals fully integrate into our bodies, we will rejoin nature prematurely, with no buy out to rescue us from our own neglect. This is the living contract we all sign at birth, to live in the world with all we make of it. Our paradise is lost, and our health and happiness are the cost of doing business. I do not see an easy brake from this world of consumption, but I do see a way to slow it, turn away from some of it when I can, and at least see what we have done in this country, and know where we’re headed based on the behavior we demonstrate day to day. The birds are still outside singing, the insects still carry on, and what plants are allowed to grow do, though few will ever reach the epoch that came before human industrial money making took what was enough and culled plenty into scarcity for all.