Last month I wrote about the City Nature Challenge, an annual “competition” centered around getting out and logging as many species as possible on the community science database iNaturalist.

The results are now in and in the Seattle-Tacoma Area, 571 observers contributed 7,144 observations of 1,235 species; pretty awesome for a long weekend. Just as cool were the nearly 200 observations of 121 species within the Capitol Hill Connections corridor. And we definitely weren’t alone in our participation.

All around the world 52,587 people got out and recorded a total of 1,259,469 observations on iNaturalist, accounting for 45,583 species, over the course of four days. Even more exciting is that the number of observations grew by around 400,000, and 10,000 more people participated than in 2020. This growth in participation is very exciting; to me it represents a whole bunch of people who just got more excited about nature where they live. 

I too got out and recorded my modest sightings on the Hill. My goal was to be exactly that: to be modest. I used only my cell phone, went out in a few spare hours between work and home, and poked around in some overlooked corners of the Hill. I wanted to challenge myself to see what could be found without devoting time many of us can’t always find for things like this.

Despite myself, two notions were competing in my head as I started my mini-expedition, strolling down 12th Ave towards Pike on a Friday afternoon. “There’s nothing here,” and “what interesting things will I find?” My curiosity against my biases. But then I started actually looking, down in the cracks, using my ears, paying attention instead of deciding I already knew what I’d find. Of course there were confirmations, and surprises.

I had made a goal for myself to look at both purposefully cultivated plants, as well as wild growing ones (despite the Challenge being only interested in wild growing plants). What should’ve been obvious to me was that I would get nowhere if I stopped to photograph every plant I found along the way (and I might look strange taking photos of all the plants in someone’s yard). So, I took a scattershot approach and distractedly jumped from plant to plant while keeping up a causal pace.

Lost in the weeds
An immediate takeaway: there were far more wild growing “weeds” than I expected. Wall lettuces, docks, vetches, clovers, and even California poppies filled every little bit of space not actively trodden or tended. I found little trees starting their lives hiding beneath hedges and established trees. Hawthornes, mountain ash, and wild cherry all clearly benefit from their berries, filled with seeds that are dispersed by the birds that eat them. When we look at a plant dubbed a weed by the zeitgeist of the day, it’s easy enough to forget that those species also have stories that intertwine with human history, no matter if they are desired or not.

If I was being honest, making observations for every street tree felt a little futile and tedious, mainly because the Seattle Department of Transportation has an inventory of them all. Still, I snapped some photos of those that caught my eye. What ended up being exciting about this was the reason that engaging in the challenge can be so cool: I discovered I didn’t know several tree species planted around Pike and Pine, and hadn’t taken the time to notice others.

Though I’d undoubtedly stood right next to it, maybe even leaning against its trunk after a show, I had never noticed the Eastern Redbud outside Sam’s Tavern. I still haven’t figured out the identity of the tree growing in front of Rancho Bravo on 10th. And how lovely are the Japanese Zelkovas shading Seneca street between 10th and Madison?

Another surprise came when I stepped out of Everyday Music (a last goodbye that ended with a handful of discount CDs I’d probably never play). There on the shaded trunks of sycamores were Licorice Ferns, a native epiphyte found covering the trunks of venerable Bigleaf Maples on the Olympic Peninsula. They weren’t resplendent, but they did appear healthy with a certain wave in the breeze that seemed inspired by the music pelting out from Poquitos.

I’ve frequently considered “birding by ear” to be my superpower. It’s a highly distracting gift that deeply annoys people I try to hold conversations because I also can’t turn it off. While you can upload audio to iNaturalist, a phone is no match for traffic, and there are few birds that let you get close enough for a phone photo. So, while my list of birds is relatively low (only two observations uploaded to iNaturalist), I did keep track simultaneously on eBird and saw 13 species. Not too shabby.

A surprise Kinglet
My favorite find was on the southeast corner of 10th and Olive. My ears perked up to the thin call of a Golden-crowned Kinglet, a tiny forest denizen that spends much of the day in conifer canopies. Looking up to find it, I realized that a Douglas fir was growing on the corner too, apparently just enough habitat for this kinglet.

Of all the more obvious groups of organisms to observe, arthropods were the most elusive, or non-existent in the blocks I strolled. In fact, flies were the only insects I saw until I got to the edge of Seattle University on Madison. Now don’t get me wrong, flies are very diverse, but these were only a couple species of the poo slurping variety. One of the downsides of conducting a super urban “census” of invertebrates are the hazards of overturning things on the ground, or even kneeling in grass or shrubs. The potential for finding something gross, or even potentially health threatening, was too much for me. The couple disposable needles and scrunched up bunches of toilet paper I found in plain sight kept me from looking for insects and the like in the undergrowth.

However, my progress halted on southwest corner of Madison and Broadway where blooming Cherry Laurels and an elm held a relative abundance of flying insects. I danced around with my cell phone trying, without much luck, to snap photos of solitary bees, various flies, a California Darner (dragonfly), and a tiny potter wasp, all zipping around the thick vegetation lining the sidewalk. At the same time I was well aware of people giving me an extra wide berth, clearly unsure what I was up to and not eager to engage me to find out.

All told, I observed 90 species of plants and animals during my short walk (which included the rest of my commute home). The mile and a half within the Capitol Hill Connections Corridor held a surprising number of native shrubs, mostly planted in the right of way, demonstrating that the ill forgotten swath between sidewalk and street can also be solid habitat. I had fun, I learned a few things, I contributed to a cool project, and I did it all in a couple hours at the end of my day, on my way home.

Does the Challenge somehow break through the barriers and allow people to learn about nature in the places they live? I can’t be altogether certain that it alone could be responsible for such things, but if one is motivated and has a phone, there’s a chance it could. What I do know is that it gives urban nature a chance at being acknowledged more often, heard and seen and cherished, in those split seconds between daily life. It’s far more realistic than expecting everyone to stop talking to their partner when a Pileated Woodpecker calls in the distance.

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