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through the pith to see how the vegetation was truly responding to the contamination. The foliage that had returned to the area had still been compromised and would need to be studied closely.
    She wasn’t feeling confident about the trees along the river bank, though, not after boring into several to examine the core. She had not only been studying their age, but the discoloration of the wood. The outer rings had an unnatural rust color. Her cursory inspection of the root system showed damage to the mycorrhiza and she didn’t really see any way that the trees would recover, but she had been surprised before. The resilience of nature continually amazed her.
    When she got back to the lab and tested the core samples and analyzed the results, she’d have a better indication of the magnitude of the damage. She was hopeful that the poisons would filter out of the soil and with transplanted seedlings the river bank would return to its once lush existence. If the transplant was unsuccessful the future of this area was anyone’s guess.
    The fertility of the soil was another concern altogether. The hazardous chemicals had leached well into the subsoil. On first inspection, the soil texture hadn’t seemed to change all that much, but the death of the flora in the area told a different story. The soil that enabled the vegetation to absorb water, nutrients and oxygen through its roots was now carrying harmful chemicals. The earth had endured a violent biological attack that would have gone largely unnoticed had it not been for the danger to the human population. The South Croix River was a minor tributary to the Columbia River. Had the spill not been contained before reaching the Columbia River, the effects would have been disastrous. As seriously as she took the poisoning of the plant life, just thinking about the possibility that those toxins could have reached people was unimaginable. The damage wouldn’t have come close to the scale of the Gulf oil spill, but would have been devastating nonetheless.
    The toxins would be filtered and dissipate over time, but their presence would be enough to affect growth for years to come. As she looked around, she was once again sickened by the attacks of terrorism waged on the environment by man. Train tracks had no business running this close to precious woodlands.
    She continued to take notes when a noise startled her and she abruptly stopped to listen. For a wild, fleeting moment she hoped that it was the ranger. When she turned around she let out her breath. The only creatures to join her today would be the chipmunks playing tag on the tree branches behind her. Normally she would have been more attuned to the noises surrounding her and not nearly so jumpy. She tried to convince herself that the only reason she wasn’t paying more attention was because she was focused on work. The ranger had certainly gotten her attention.
    She spent several minutes watching the chipmunks in amusement. They didn’t seem to have a care in the world. It had been a long time since she had felt that way. Her social life consisted of spending time with Stacey and her sister, but when she wasn’t with them, she was working. Since college, she had been so focused on her career it left her very little time to meet anyone. Sometimes the loneliness made her wonder if the sacrifices she had made to advance her career were really worth it. The truth was she had spent far more time working than was actually necessary. She longed to find the love everyone around her insisted she deserved and would someday find. It was ironic really. She had been on the receiving end of plenty of pickup lines from men. But for reasons she would probably never understand women didn’t generally pay her the same attention, at least not the women she would have preferred. That is until she met Captain Elaine Thomas who had looked at her in a way she had always imagined. It was almost inconceivable that a woman of Elaine’s caliber had