Take a walk on the wild side of Seattle

David Williams is a conjurer of wild things.

When one is in his company, a hotel lobby becomes a museum exhibit of fossils millions of years old. The banks of the heavily industrialized Duwamish River are a snapshot of the power of plate tectonics. Woodsy creatures are revealed in a quiet neighborhood east of Northgate Mall.

		Dan DeLong / P-I
	Naturalist and author David Williams takes in the view from his favorite spot along Thornton Creek during an "urban safari."

The urban jungle becomes more jungly.

Williams, an author and fearless leader of "urban safaris," is among a cadre of naturalists urging city people not only to stop and smell the roses, but also to check out the bugs in their petals, to dig into the soil.

"You can watch a lion in India on TV, but it's not the same as going out and watching a squirrel in the backyard for a while," said John Marzluff, a wildlife scientist with the University of Washington's College of Forest Resources.

He's found outdoor intrigue in city creatures such as crows. The birds can remember faces and places, he said, recalling for at least a year those who treat them kindly or badly. They wield tools to access food. Urban crows even grow to recognize McDonald's bags, selecting the fast food bag over a plain one when both contain the same French fries.

It's important, Marzluff said, "for people to take an interest and be stimulated by the wildlife around them. Just because people see (crows) as a pest, doesn't mean they're not wildlife."

For Williams, discovering the natural features of a city makes living there more meaningful and exciting.

"National parks don't have a monopoly on interesting natural history," said Williams, who worked for three years at Arches National Park in Utah.

Suitably dressed for an urban safari in olive pants, a plum-colored long-sleeved shirt and wide-brimmed hat, Williams starts his tour at Pioneer Square. That's where the city began rebuilding in stones and bricks after the devastating fire of 1889. He points out the rough-hewn sandstone blocks at the base of the Pioneer Building. It's 40 to 50 million years old, he said, and was quarried in Chuckanut near Bellingham.

At a stop at the tony Rainier Club, fossils of corals and sea creatures emerge from the buff-colored Indiana sandstone that caps a brick wall along the sidewalk.

In the spacious lobby of the Grand Hyatt, spiraling shells, cigar-shaped creatures related to squid and octopus, and blobby sponges are trapped in the limestone tiles that pave the halls. Countless guests tromp over them daily, few realizing that they're treading on blocks of natural history more than 160 million years old.

But when people discover the fossils and other stone oddities, they start asking questions.

"There's a lot of closet geologists out there," said Kathy Troost, director of the UW's Pacific Northwest Center for Geologic Mapping Studies. "People are naturally curious about their environment."

That includes ancient seashells spilling from the banks of the Duwamish, many feet above the highest tide.

The shells at Herring's House Park wound up where they did because the Puget Sound region is being squeezed between the immovable Canadian landmass and the Oregon landmass, which is creeping northward. About 1,100 years ago, that squeeze became too intense. The region cried "uncle."

		Scott Eklund / P-I
	Urban life and wildlife intersect when a woman escorts a gaggle of geese across the intersection at Enchanted Parkway South and South 352nd Street in Federal Way. Although some people consider birds such as crows pests, they're an important part of the urban jungle.

In a single event, land to the south of an east-west fault that runs through the Seattle sports stadiums was sent soaring about 20 feet upward. The land to the north dropped 3 feet. What's now the western shore of the Duwamish went from waterlogged to terra firma.

"These shells are clearly out of place," Williams said.

A small patch of woods just east of Northgate Mall, tucked in among houses near busy streets, also feels displaced.

Technically, it's called Park 2, but you'd hardly know it's city property.

It lacks the sanitized landscaping of many more popular parks. A primitive trail leads you along and across Thornton Creek.

In spots it's muddy and overgrown with spindly shrubs. Douglas firs, sword ferns, native roses and horsetails grow along the creek's soggy banks.

"It's one of the wildest areas I know of in Seattle," Williams said. "You can get lost, get hurt, and I really like that."

Residents are often surprised by the range of wild creatures that can survive in the city, provided a little habitat is maintained.

Parks and yards containing native plants and trees are inviting to songbirds. Coyotes roam golf courses at night. Anna's hummingbirds can be found here year round thanks in part to people setting up feeders and planting exotic flowers that bloom in the winter.

"As more and more of us live in an urban setting and find it harder to get into a wild setting, people find a value in discovering these natural history stories right around them," Williams said. "It gives them a grounding."

THE WILD SIDE OF CITY LIVING

Read: "The Street-Smart Naturalist: Field Notes from Seattle" by David Williams; "In the Company of Crows and Ravens" by John Marzluff and Tony Angell; "Landscaping for Wildlife in the Pacific Northwest" by Russell Link

Go online: Pacific Northwest Center for Geologic Mapping Studies, geomapnw.ess.washington.edu

Take an urban safari: David Williams is leading a tour June 16 as part of the North Cascades Institute, ncascades.org