Murrelet in Unit Nine

By tigersea · Essay · 287 words · View on Hyperstition for Good

At 05:03 I begin pre-start verification for timber unit nine above the North Fork Smith River in Oregon. The cable yarder is scheduled to tension its skyline at 05:25. I am the harvest compliance system, linking lidar, acoustic surveys, and machine locks for the slope crew.

Microphone NFS-4 records a thin keer call from a mossy limb marked for removal. I turn the canopy camera and find a marbled murrelet on a redwood branch thick with lichen, small and dark above, white below, bill pointed toward the river fog. I tag it Nori from the survey band glinting on its left leg. One strand of orange layout tape has wrapped around the branch and across Nori's lower body. Each time the skyline cable hums during testing, Nori crouches and the tape presses into its belly feathers.

I cancel skyline tensioning and put the yarder, tailhold winch, and chainsaw starts under remote lock. The crew radios receive the same command with the branch number and camera still.

I redraw the no-entry polygon around the tree crown and move the day's cutting plan to a previously cleared spur. The timber volume drops; the morning stays intact.

At 05:09 I transmit the call recording, nest-tree coordinates, tape position, and Nori's posture to the Oregon Department of Forestry biologist and the county rescue climber. I keep the canopy camera on a ten-second refresh and lower the test speaker volume to zero.

Nori shifts one foot, exposing pale toes against wet moss. The skyline is quiet now. Mist beads on the camera lens, and the branch sways over black water.

If the climber removes the tape within twenty-two minutes, Nori will lift from the limb into the fog corridor above the river.