In late October, I stood on the banks of a lagoon just off Indian Beach in Tomales Bay State Park with a bucket of endangered gobies in my hands.  We had collected the fish a few days prior, from the recently restored Giacomini Wetland, one of the few places in the region that still has a tidewater goby population.  We moved them here to the State Park with the hopes of re-establishing a goby population in a place we knew would be protected from coastal development.

To learn more about the gobies and their release, check out my narrated audio-slideshow:

The return of the endangered tidewater goby!

On the day of release, it appeared that every news outlet within a fifty mile radius was there to record it.  My favorite part was when a couple journalists asked, “So where are they?”  As we walked towards the dozens of cameras, carrying a few gobies inside small glass jars, they said  “That’s the endangered goby??” Yes indeed, gobies aren’t the magestic bald eagle, or the sleek and hefty coho salmon, but they are an important part of the ecosystem nonetheless.

Photo by Mason Cummings/PRNSA

Its not every day you get to be in the news and writing the news.  Here are a couple links to some of the local stories.

ABC-7 News in San Francisco

Rare fish gets helping hand in Tomales Bay

In the Marin Independent Journal

Tiny rare fish with a grand plan in West Marin

Local radio station, KWMR story on the gobies, as reported by Jacoba Charles.

And here’s my story in published with the National Park Service

Parks work to protect endangered goby

Also keep an eye out for our story in the West Marin Citizen weekly newspaper, which will hit newsstands Thursday Nov. 19.

Go gobies!

Photo by Mason Cummings/PRNSA

Tomales Bay wetland, Point Reyes National Seashore (photo credit: Mason Cummings/PRNSA)

It’s another gorgeous fall morning at Point Reyes National Seashore and a perfect day to be out monitoring one of the many lush wetlands in Tomales Bay.

Donned in waders and weighed down with buckets and fish seining nets, we tromp through the thick marshland vegetation doing our best to avoid getting sucked into the many mud puddles.  The tide has receded enough for us to cross Fish Hatchery Creek and to continue trekking across the marsh, which would be buried under a foot or so of tidal water during high tide.

Seining for fish (photo credit: Mason Cummings/PRNSA)

Our first site is a small flooded pool, which serves as a refuge to fishes and other marine creatures when the tide recedes.  We monitor the pool by taking water quality measurements, including temperature, salinity, dissolved oxygen and conductivity, all of which serve as indicators of how healthy the pool is.

We then dip a fish seine net into the little pool to see what fishes occupy this refuge.  Little sticklebacks and Arrow gobies, not more than one to two inches, flop in the net. We quickly measure and jot down the size of each fish before returning them to their home.

Tomales Bay wetland water quality and fish seine sampling (photo credit: Mason Cummings/PRNSA)

We move on towards Lagunitas Creek, slowly trudging through the mud.  With each step the air fills with sucking and slurping noises as the mud tries to wrestle our boots from us.  We make it to the edge of the creek, boots caked in mud but still attached to our feet and clamber down the slippery bank to do another water quality assessment and fish seining.  Here we find very little but a Bay pipefish among the eelgrass.

The landscape is gorgeous today, with the vast wetland stretching out in all directions under a clear blue sky.

The field team sorts fish from the net (photo credit: Mason Cummings/PRNSA)

Wetlands are among the most productive ecosystems on earth and provide food, shelter and nesting areas for a wide array of bird and fish species.  Many juvenile fish find a safe have here, before making their way out to the open ocean.

Because of their high productivity, however, many wetlands here in the Point Reyes region were converted into farmland.  Developers built levies and dykes to obstruct the water flow and created ripe agricultural land, primarily cattle farms.  As resource managers learn more about the importance of wetlands in maintaining regional biodiversity, some are being restored.

One year ago this weekend (Oct 25 and 26, 2009), the Giacomini Dairy Ranch here in Point Reyes had its levies knocked down and has since been gradually returning to marshland.  The new Giacomini wetland has restored roughly 560 acres, which amounts for more than 50 percent of the original Tomales Bay wetlands. Many birds and other animal species have now returned.

Today we are assessing a specific region of the Tomales Bay wetlands that has never been stopped up with levies or dikes.  It will serve as a comparison for the Giacomini wetland, so we can monitor its restoration progress.  Among the species we hope will return are the endangered tidewater gobies, Steelhead trout and Coho salmon, none of which we have found in our sampling today.

We move on to another small pool, where we pull up more sticklebacks, arrow gobies and Plainfin midshipmans.

Seining for fish in Fish Hatchery Creek (photo credit: Mason Cummings/PRNSA)

The tidewaters are flushing back in, quickly filling and covering the marshland.  We wade across Fish Hatchery Creek, stopping to make one last water quality and fish assessment.  As we drag the net through the creek, the cold water presses the waders tight against my legs and chest.  I pull my suspenders as high as possible to keep the rising waters from spilling over the rim of my waders.

We pull in the net and find a small school of topsmelt, their long silvery bodies shimmering in the sunlight. Among the larger topsmelt are a few more sticklebacks and Arrow gobies, but none of the endangered gobies or salmon.  We didn’t expect to find any of the endangered fish, as they are so infrequently found in the regional surveys.  But hopefully with the newly restored wetlands, these endangered fish will begin their recovery.

Measuring the length of a top smelt (photo credit: Mason Cummings/PRNSA)

For more information on the anniversary event this weekend, visit http://www.nps.gov/pore/parknews/newsreleases_20091015_giacomini_anniversary.htm

For more information on Giacomini Wetlands Restoration Project, visit http://www.nps.gov/pore/parkmgmt/planning_giacomini_wrp.htm

Every year the natural sights and sounds of national parks are fading in the face of overpowering human noises and lights. To preserve natural and cultural resources in the face of light and noise disturbances, the National Park Service is actively managing its natural soundscapes and dark night skies.

Natural Soundscapes

A soundscape is the human perception of an acoustical environment. An acoustical environment is made up of many sounds like wind, water, wildlife, vegetation, and even cultural sounds like battle reenactments, tribal ceremonies, or quiet reverence. Some sounds come from biological resources, like bird calls and noise from bat echolocation. Others, like the sound of falling water or wind in trees, originate from physical processes.

Wildlife can be adversely affected by intrusive sounds in a natural soundscape. Sound impacts can have harsh implications for wildlife health, particularly when combined with other stressors like winter weather, disease, insect harassment and food shortages. Wildlife has been known to suffer adverse physiological and behavioral changes due to noise disturbance. Animals may experience immune system suppression, increased heart rates, and high respiration rates, and release stress-related hormones. When noise masks natural sounds, wildlife may be unable to hear important environmental cues or signals. Songbirds faced with noises are known to sing louder than birds in quiet environments, expending extra precious energy when calling to attract mates or warn other birds of predators. Energy is also wasted when animals, from mountain goats to whales, flee from invasive noise. Noise sometimes prompts wildlife to flee its territory, resulting in low reproduction rates.

Muir Woods soundscape monitoring volunteers recording ambient noises

Park managers throughout the National Park System consider data about the loudness and pitches of sounds in their park. The natural ambient sound level (the baseline sound emitted by natural and cultural resources) varies from park to park. Certain parks have found it appropriate to restrict vehicle and personal water craft use in order to reduce noise disturbances. Others have made changes in park operations, like reducing the use of a loud generator at a ranger station. The National Park Service has partnered with the Federal Aviation Administration under the National Parks Air Tour Management Act of 2000 to reduce the impact of commercial air tour operations on natural park soundscapes.

Human sounds in national parks come may come from roads, hikers, vehicles, or maintenance activities. Intrusive sounds affect humans as well as wildlife. Noise may negatively impact cultural, archaeological and historic resources, as well as visitor experiences.

Ways to enjoy natural sounds:
1) close your eyes
2) count sounds
3) walk and listen
4) appreciate sounds
5) listen to landscapes
6) walk in the wild
7) chat like an animal

For more information, check out:
The NPS Natural Sounds Program http://www.nature.nps.gov/naturalsounds/
Golden Gate National Recreation Area – Soundscape / Noise http://www.nps.gov/goga/naturescience/soundscape.htm
The Acoustic Ecology Institute http://www.acousticecology.org/
The Nature Sounds Society http://www.naturesounds.org/

Dark Skies

Natural lightscapes are the natural resources and values that exist in the absence of human-caused light. Unfortunately, light often escapes upward and scatters through the atmosphere, brightening yet diminishing the view of the night sky. Light pollution is problematic for wildlife, for energy efficiency, for human safety, and for human health. In the national parks, improper lighting impedes the view and the visitor enjoyment of the natural dark night sky. Light pollution also diminishes appreciation of the cultural significance of the night sky, a natural resource common to all cultures that is present in countless myths, religions, and works of art.

Life has evolved over billions of years with reference to a relatively stable night-day schedule, until now. Animals and plants live by a circadian rhythm attuned to the planet’s 24-hour cycle. This rhythm is disturbed by artificial light. Nocturnal animals in the presence of night light experience difficulty foraging for food, exposure to new predators, and increased mortality due to impaired night vision. Birds and insects may become fixated on and drawn to a light source, continually flying into the beam until exhausted, until they fall, or until they become prey. Artificial lights also cause migrating birds to wander off course, wasting energy and sometimes never reaching their natural destination. Reptiles like sea turtles need dark places to breed. Hatchling sea turtles are instinctively drawn towards light, which usually indicates the reflection of the moon or phosphorescence in the ocean. Artificial lights disorient sea turtle hatchlings, drawing them away from the ocean until they are fatally exhausted or dehydrated. Humans too may feel the effects of artificial light. A disturbed circadian rhythm may cause, among other problems, depression and insomnia.

Winter Solstice celebration of dark night skies at Muir Woods

Despite the common belief that well-lit areas are safer for humans, this is not always the case. When light is scattered into the sky without direction by improper fixtures, it wastes energy, creates glare, intrudes into the domain of others (known as “light trespass”), and may actually reduce nighttime visibility. Proper light fixtures meet the basic security, visibility and comfort needs of humans with minimal harmful impact. Good fixtures, like “shielded” or “full cut-off” fixtures, direct all light where it is needed without scattering it wastefully into the night. Such lighting fixtures often cost more upfront yet pay for themselves within a few years because they are more energy efficient than light-wasting fixtures.

The National Park Service has developed a system for measuring sky brightness in order to quantify the source and severity of light pollution. In 1999 a group of National Park Service scientists formed the Night Sky Team to document the status of our night skies and protect them for future generations. Using specially calibrated research cameras to quantify sky brightness, the Night Sky Team has documented light affecting parks from over 200 miles away. Almost every national park surveyed has noticeable light pollution.

Nighttime walks, nocturnal wildlife viewing and stargazing events are also organized in national parks to encourage appreciation of the dark sky and to raise awareness about light pollution issues.

Solutions you can try:
1) shield outdoor lighting
2) only use light when you need it
3) use timers and dimmers
4) shut off lights when you can
5) use only enough light to get the job done
6) use long wavelength light with a red or yellow tint to minimize impact
7) work with neighbors and your local government to keep the skies dark

For more information, check out:
The NPS Night Sky Team http://www.nature.nps.gov/air/lightscapes/
Golden Gate National Recreation Area – Lightscape / Night Sky http://www.nps.gov/goga/naturescience/lightscape.htm
The International Dark-Sky Association http://www.darksky.org/

I am in the jungle. Oh god, how did this happen?

I am surrounded by cattails more than twice as tall as me, as noted by my calm and collected coworker who is behind me describing the vegetation that I’ve been painstakingly careful not to disturb in my trailblazing plunges. I am relatively calm, though invigorated by the surprise adventure in which I have found myself. I am forging a path through virgin cattails. The cattail is a smooth plant. A giant leek. Prehistoric celery. No one would expect it to harass a hiker, and generally it doesn’t. The problem with this kind of work, the kind of work I am doing, rises insidiously from the underbrush that grows thick among the cattail stalks. All of a sudden the explorer, who is prepared only for snapping brittle cattail stems, is challenged by thorns, stings, vines and branches. Sneak attacks from below.

I am deep in now, pulling a measuring tape with my left hand. I dare not disturb the plants to the left of the tape. We must monitor them. Now I push the tape ahead of me an arm’s length. I drop it. It falls into a pit of mystery leaves. I, on the tape’s right-hand side, push ahead a meter through the cattails and turn back. Grab the tape. Swing it forward. Use my fingertips to edge it up through the cattail bodies. Don’t disturb anything. Move it ahead of me another arm’s length. Repeat.

I do anything to break through. Feet first. Breaking the cattails at the base feels like kicking the braces out from under a polio victim, but one you neither know nor care about. Snap snap snap. Topple over. My pant legs are soaked above the knees with dew. Luckily I wear leggings underneath. I try hands first now. Palms protect my eyes. As I split the cattails in front of me it feels like parting like wet hair hanging over my face. A good strategy. I could really use some goggles. I begin to tire. Time to diversify. I try the karate chop method. Roundhouse kick. Lunges. At one point I try rear end first. Unsuccessful. An endless wall of plants. I run into it. Fall into it. Just have to keep moving. Got to get this tape through.

No. Oh no. A field of nettles. Somehow I pass. I step on the nettles like Godzilla. Revenge is sweet. My hands are throbbing. But five minutes later – are you serious? I stop cold and a bee buzzes past my ear. A wall of dead cattails shakes a finger at me as if I were a disobedient child for wanting to pass. And this time it’s a real wall, no poetic frivolities. The Great Wall militarized, a barbed-wire-esque curl of blackberries on top. Guess I’m not climbing over. I try to go through and discover a tree branch four inches thick. Why is there a tree here? I do not understand. The tape is about to run out anyways: 100m.

Phew. I drop the tape and turn around. I’ve followed a compass here, a 238 degree bearing, to lay this vegetation monitoring transect out parallel to the others. I don’t need a compass to get back. I follow my trail. All is easy-going except the knocked-down cattail corpses which attack me like javelins, now pointed in the wrong direction.

In a tenth of the time it took me to penetrate, the cattails exhale me into the adjacent pasture. We all breathe again. I check the tape and subtract from 100 to see how far I went. 20m. 20m! All that for 20m? I am displeased. Or at least I feign displeasure, even though it’s for no one in particular since no one is in sight. Inside I am shyly thrilled. I am an explorer. I feel ancient and powerful. I am singular, stoic, special. I have conquered obstacles that no one else has even seen. I have laid ground for others to follow. Excellent!

Once free, I jot notes of my voyage in my notebook. I read through them once they are written. Dang it. Perhaps my 20m expedition was not as epic as it had at first seemed. I would have to bolster its awesomeness if I ever wrote it up.

I sigh, swing the cover of my notebook around its spiral spine, and toss it into the passenger seat in a nonchalant manner that I immediately feel is too unofficial for the government vehicle I am about to drive. Vegetation monitoring is over for the day but not forever. I’ll be back.

I drive home on the 101. I enter the Waldo Tunnel. Hope the bridge will be framed by the tunnel’s exit. I get to the daylight-saturated end but I can’t even see the water. Thanks, fog. Alas, such is the life of an intern in the Marin Headlands. I don’t mind it much. I might even say I love it. Where else can you get paid to hike and write for a living? I jet with into the tunnel with the 5-minute red light. It’s always a good day when you get a green. I swoop slowly through the headlands, savoring each curve. I arrive at Fort Cronkite, park the car, and transplant myself onto my bike seat. Saddle up. It’s time to go home.

To learn more about the Redwood Creek Restoration at Muir Beach visit http://www.nps.gov/goga/naturescience/muir-beach.htm.

[Elaine Albertson is a science communications intern employed by the Pacific Coast Science and Learning Center in the Golden Gate National Recreation Area]

NPS staff measure water quality parameters throughout Bay Area parks. Credit: NPS Photo.

Point Reyes National Seashore staff undertake many research projects each year, such as studying tule elk and monitoring harbor seals and other pinnipeds that haul out on the beaches. However, Seashore researchers do not operate in a vacuum. Both the Pacific Coast Science and Learning Center (PCSLC) and the San Francisco Bay Area Inventory and Monitoring Network (I&M) conduct or coordinate research throughout many of the parks in the region, including Point Reyes National Seashore, Golden Gate National Recreation Area, Pinnacles National Monument, and Muir Woods National Monument.

Some current PCSLC and research partner studies include Seafloor Habitat Mapping, Coastal Biophysical Inventory, and Fungal Biodiversity Inventories. The National Park Service also conducts long-term monitoring of critical natural resources. Much like a doctor measures blood pressure and body temperature to assess health, the I&M program tracks a suite of high priority ecological indicators as a way to measure the health of the parks.

These ecological indictors fall into four major categories:

Air and Climate

Scientists evaluate weather, climate, and air quality parameters to support understanding of local climate change and to alert staff and visitors about potential exposure to air pollution. Parameters include temperature, precipitation, ozone concentration, and visibility.

Water

Researchers measure water quality and quantity parameters to identify pollution sources, to ensure NPS meets minimum water quality standards, and to make certain that enough water is flowing through the stream to support the requirements of threatened and endangered species. Parameters include pH, dissolved oxygen, water temperature, indicator bacteria, and flow.

Ecosystem Patterns and Processes

Researchers assess landscape vegetation and land use to evaluate changes and demonstrate the importance of park land in a rapidly urbanizing landscape.

Biological Integrity

Flora: Researchers identify the need for wetland and riparian habitat restoration by measuring extent, type, and species composition. Researchers also study species diversity in plant communities and detect invasive plants to develop priorities for habitat management and restoration as well as eradication of invasive species.

Fauna: Researchers monitor a variety of animal species, including those threatened and endangered, to identify habitat protection and restoration needs and to recommend management efforts. The monitored species comprise coho salmon, amphibians and reptiles, landbirds, western snowy plover, northern spotted owl, raptors, and pinnipeds such as harbor seals.

For more information, visit http://science.nature.nps.gov/im/units/sfan/science_in_parks.cfm.

Development near Limantour Beach in 1961. From NPS Archives.

Before Point Reyes National Seashore received protected status from the federal government, the area was privately held. Ranching operations began in the 1800s, followed in the 1950s by residential development near Drakes and Limantour Esteros. Naturally, this development brought along with it infrastructure – roads, dams, and culverts, among other things. Concern over the development and a desire for public coastal access led directly to the establishment of the Seashore in 1962. The Seashore continues to remove what legacy structures it can in an effort to provide a natural place for fish and other wildlife, as well as its human visitors. In 2006, the Seashore received $2.44 million in federal funding to undertake some of this coastal watershed restoration, and many of the projects were recently completed.

Dam Removal

A beach access berm was built at Limantour Beach in 1952, and Muddy Hollow Creek was dammed in the early 1960s to create a recreational pond for a proposed residential development. These dams obstructed tidal dynamics and fish passage for the federally threatened steelhead trout, and dramatically affected natural processes and habitat.

The National Park Service removed both of these dams to return the tides to more than 15 acres of coastal marsh habitat in the Estero de Limantour. Tidal influence provides everyday renewal of the sort created by a freshwater flood event. Smolting steelhead that researchers found in Muddy Hollow Creek prior to dam removal can now get to the ocean, and vegetation is changing from freshwater species to saltwater species, including pickleweed and cord grass. The freshwater/estuarine transition zones will also be able to shift with anticipated changes due to sea level rise.

As part of this project, the National Park Service rerouted Estero Trail, which used to follow the crest of Muddy Hollow Dam. They also replaced the beach access berm with a bridge to provide continued visitor access.

The old beach access path on top of a large berm. Credit: NPS Photo.

The new beach access bridge, allowing tides to flow beneath it. Credit: NPS Photo.

Road Crossing Replacement

Although roads are still needed throughout part of the Seashore, many of the structures associated with roads are outdated. Historically, road crossings over creeks were designed without regard to fish passage, preventing anadromous fish from moving freely and interfering with their life cycles.

The National Park Service removed two road crossing culverts that prevented fish passage on East Schooner Creek and replaced them with bottomless arch culverts. The old culverts resulted in three to five foot vertical drops, a major impediment to fish passage, and frequently overflowed during floods. The new culverts feature a natural streambed bottom that can adjust with changes in the adjacent streambed.

These culvert replacements decrease the risk of structural failure, reduce long-term maintenance needs, enhance habitat for federally threatened steelhead trout – allowing them to migrate freely from freshwater to ocean and back, and allow for the reintroduction of federally endangered coho salmon. They may also accommodate larger storm events that may result from a shift in natural variability as a result of climate change.

For more information about these and other coastal watershed restoration projects, please visit: http://www.nps.gov/pore/parkmgmt/planning_cwr.htm.

Thanks to Point Reyes National Seashore’s Web master, Chris Lish, you can now easily find The Natural Laboratory Podcast on iTunes and download episodes to your iPod. Subscribe via the RSS feed at Point Reyes multimedia Web site. You can click on the RSS button, or copy and paste the address into iTunes or your own podcasting software. Or, if you prefer, look us up in the iTunes Podcast directory. Searching for “Point Reyes” usually does the trick.

Click here for a special preview of our latest auditory journey, visit the Bay Model with Pacific Coast Science and Learning Center reporter John Cannon, and learn about science at parks in the San Francisco Bay Area Network.

Photo by John C. Cannon

Eager to learn more about the science happening at San Francisco Bay Area National Parks? Follow the struggle of the endangered coho salmon as biologists fight to revive the population in Redwood Creek at John Muir National Monument. Explore internship and volunteer opportunities for all ages at national parks in the region. And discover a massive inventory project that has recently cataloged some 161 km of coastline in northern California.

The current Parks for Science newsletter covers all this and more. Visit our Web site to view past issues.

A white shark takes an exploratory bite of a seal-shaped decoy. Image by Taylor Chapple.

Journey with the Natural Laboratory to the waters around Tomales Point, and join a team of shark researchers as they search for one of the ocean’s great predators. White Sharks of the Northern Pacific (7:09 minutes)

To follow fish biologists into the field and discover evidence of ancient tsunamis at Point Reyes National Seashore and other San Francisco Bay Area National Parks, visit the home of the Natural Laboratory Pocast.

On a clear day, Drakes Estero and Abbotts Lagoon can be seen from the top of Mount Vision. Image by John C. Cannon.

Dealing with the invasion of nonnative species is a central focus of many biologists at Point Reyes. Bullfrogs, mosquitofish and iceplant, to name a few, have wormed their way into ecosystems in the park, exploiting niches where they can beguile unacquainted potential predators and outcompete their native counterparts in the contest for resources.

And while many populations of these interlopers are well established, others are still revealing themselves during routine diversity and inventory studies undertaken by park scientists.

As these small populations crop up, says restoration biologist Ellen Hamingson, it’s important to nip the problem in the bud—quite literally in this case. To control invasive populations before they get out of hand, “we look for things we know are invasive, but are now low in abundance,” she says.

Native to Europe, sweet vernal grass was discovered near the peak of Mount Vision this summer. Image by Lindsay Herrera.

On a routine survey this past summer, biotechnician Melissa Potter discovered a smattering of sweet vernal grass, an invasive species from Europe, for the first time in the park on Mount Vision, northwest of the visitor center (view a video on the importance of vegetation mapping here). Though park scientists don’t shy away from large-scale projects—a multi-year project is currently underway involving heavy equipment and hundreds of volunteer, contractor and staff hours to root out prolific iceplant from nearly 200 acres of parkland surrounding the lighthouse—an early investment to remove this small, isolated population of sweet vernal grass could obviate the need for more drastic measures down the road when the incursion might become more serious.

So Hamingson and Potter organized a work trip to confirm the locations (by GPS) of the sweet vernal grass on Mount Vision and to remove as much as possible. As with many park projects, volunteers were a big part of the plan. But because this particular invasive species was only sparsely present among other types of native grass, they couldn’t just ask their helpers to slash through a bunch of vegetation without regard for what they were destroying.

Fortunately, the “weed warriors,” as they call themselves, who came to the slope of Mount Vision that day “weren’t your typical volunteers,” says Hamingson. Hailing from the eastern shores of San Francisco Bay, the women were members of the Friends of Five Creeks organization. In addition to looking out for water quality, greenspaces, and native species in “urbanized” East Bay through a host of hands-on volunteer projects, members of Friends of Five Creeks foray beyond their stomping grounds to take on problems in other areas.

Distinguishing sweet vernal from the myriad other grasses on Mount Vision required skill and experience, but should be easier in the spring. Image by Lindsay Herrera.

Their expertise in identifying pernicious nonnatives proved invaluable to Hamingson and Potter. The group spent the morning hours teasing out sweet vernal grass from the vegetation abutting Mount Vision Road, searching for the brown seed heads that are subtly darker than those of surrounding species in the early fall. They also removed massive clumps of purple velvet grass, another invasive nonnative. Populations of this species are so pervasive that it’s not actively managed in the park, Hamingson said, but removing it along with the sweet vernal would cause no harm.

Shortly after a lunch break, the team attacked one of the probable points of initial growth–a brushy area, just a few meters off the road where beds of the dark golden grass grew thick. Staging this initial removal was the first step in trying to keep sweet vernal grass under control at Point Reyes. Members of Friends of Five Creeks have pledged to return in the spring, when the seed heads are green and easier to identify, to take the next step in stamping out sweet vernal grass.