Dwarfed by giants of the old growth forest, we search for clues of the inhabitants there. A line of tiny holes drilled in a western hemlock trunk signal the presence of a red-breasted sapsucker. A silvery trace meandering across the trail leads to a monster of miniature proportions: a banana slug. Enveloped in slime, propelled by a giant muscular foot and peering at the world through stalked eyes, its rasping radular mouth seeks its next victim within the forest litter. Leaves tremble at its advance. Dead or alive, large or small, all is prey to the decomposer of the forest floor.
Meanwhile in the clear sparkling waters bursting forth from Lake Eva, a torpedo-shaped form darts beneath the dead-fall of a Sitka spruce. Moments later it emerges with an iridescent fish in its mouth. It is several seconds before we realize the mysterious shape is a river otter. The thrill of personal discovery leaves us exhausted at the end of the day. But not so fatigued that cooperative feeding humpback whales could not draw us to the deck as the light disappeared.
