Invasive inspiration

Fibrous strands of red swayed just below the water's surface with the motion of the incoming tide. I loved the color. I loved the lines. I loved the serenity. As I stood up to my knees in the saltwater of Puget Sound, I was struck by the beauty before me.

But none of it was supposed to be there.

Wireweed created this beauty. This type of algae was supposed to be on the other side of the ocean— not here. But there was a lot of it.

Wireweed is native to the western Pacific on a vast stretch of coast that includes Japan, China, and Russia. Scientists think the oyster trade brought it to the Sound. But it has made it as far as the the Atlantic; France and the Scottish islands have particularly large concentrations of it.

It reproduces rapidly and seems to be quite hardy. It’s not picky about water temperature. It does just as well in the tropics as it does in the cold waters of the Bering Sea in Alaska.

I didn’t think much about its negatives as I photographed it. I enjoyed the dreamlike impressionist scene. Photographing it filled me with peace and serenity.

It doesn’t do that for biologists. Wireweed chokes out more fragile, native algae, including brown canopy and red understory.

Wireweed is hardly the only invasive plant I have seen this month. The road out to the coast a few weeks ago was lined with bright yellow flowers — the blossoms of invasive Scotch broom. The sidewalk along the neighborhood park near me was bordered by vibrant orange flowers — California poppies, also considered invasive here.

We can’t roll back the world so that what’s here is only the stuff that was supposed to be here. For one, we don’t have the technology. For two, how would we decide what point in time to choose? Nature is evolving constantly. And, truth be told, if we were sticklers for what counted as native, I wouldn’t be here to see it.

It is complicated. I try to help where I can. My yard features native plants, including a local rose which possesses a more subtle beauty than the more popular cultivated varieties.

Besides, even the wireweed isn’t all bad. Its busy structure provides extra cover for native fish.

There is enough that’s ugly about the world. It’s worth appreciating beauty, even if it didn’t make it here by itself.

Kevin’s book, Five Minutes in Nature, collects images and stories about his experiences in the wilderness, curated to help you have deeper encounters of your own. Preview and order it here. Prints of his images are available through LivingWilderness.com. Learn about new work by joining his mailing list.)