You can't fault Gerald Weber - Geology at Point Año Nuevo

May 2, 2013, 5:42 pm

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Sedimentary, my dear Watson!

No matter what your focus as a naturalist -- plants, birds, animals, whatever -- understanding the geology of the place where those things exist is, well, foundational.

I've wanted to want to like geology for a long time, and with recent encounters with local experts -- including Gary Griggs, distinguished professor and author of the Santa Cruz Sentinel column Our Ocean Backyard -- I'm coming pretty darn close to actually enjoying it!

On Saturday, I explored some coastal features along with my classmates in the California Naturalist Program, which is hosted in our area by the UC Santa Cruz Arboretum. Our able and witty leaders were Gerald (Jerry) Weber, geologic consultant, and Hilde Schwartz, senior lecturer at University of California, Santa Cruz.

Gerald Weber -- I believe that's the Año Nuevo Creek fault line behind his right shoulder.

At Point Año Nuevo, Jerry told us how he discovered an active fault in the late 1960s when studying for his PhD -- and thus prevented PG&E from building a a nuclear power plant at Point Año Nuevo, where elephant seals come to breed each year. Other factors played into the decision but still, Jerry saved the day, in my book. PG&E had sent geologists to inspect the area earlier, and they totally missed the signs that Jerry had spotted that day. (As he told us with just a little professional glee.) I'll try to convey what Jerry told us those signs were as we stood near the place where Año Nuevo Creek flows to the sea.

For one thing, you can see uptilting strata that are being dragged up by the earth's movement along the fault.

Hilde Schwartz shows us the evidence for the Frijoles fault that Jerry discovered.

Here are those rising strata in fluvial deposits that are only around 10K years old, indicating the fault is active.

You can also see that the layers of rock - Purisima formation at this point - are offset on either side of this creek mouth area. (We could see these areas of offset but I don't have pictures.)

Grapic showing the Frijoles fault and the Año Nuevo Creek fault

The same area, with classmates clustered around a fault line.

And here you can see how the river backfilled its channel when sea levels changed - the fluvial deposits.

Jerry and Hilde show us where the Purisima formation meets the rubbly material that flowed in from the river

This was but the last fact-filled stop on our field trip. I cannot remember now if the fluvial deposits occurred because the land rose or the sea fell or vice versa, or what it had to tell us about the fault activity. I may have some of the other details a bit muddled too - I'm sorry if so. Even the tip of the iceberg of what there is to know, which is all the dynamic duo were presenting really, was causing my brain to erupt with facts like a volcano! But now I'm motivated to learn more.

For some other accounts of similar field trips with Jerry, here is a link to an NPR article and here is an account of a Sierra Club field trip.

The main point Jerry Weber wanted to leave us with was this: Here in the San Francisco Bay Area and adjacent Central Coast region, we think of ourselves living between fault lines which shift and cause earthquakes. Instead, Jerry wants us to realize that this whole area is a wide borderland between two tectonic plates, a mishmash of stressed and fractured rock squished between the Pacific and North American plates.

Oh dear! To repurpose the old Chinese curse - may you live in interesting places!

In another post I'll show you toilet bowls. Not real ones - rock formations of course! And more about marine terraces... and maybe even the coastal prairie habitat that exists on them. But it's time to get ready and go to Hilde's lecture tonight, part of the California Naturalist Program. She'll talk about fossils ... and even without trying, everybody loves fossils, right?

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Instructions for the House Sitter

May 5, 2013, 8:31 pm

≫ Next: May Flowers in the Country Mouse Estate - Reseeding, Resprouting

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I'm planning several trips these summer, but I'm lucky to have Mr. Mouse or a house sitter here at all times. A lot of my garden is on Techline drip, and the front garden can get by for a few weeks without watering. But the pots, both inside the house and outside, need a little attention periodically.

1. In the house:

Water upstairs twice a week, 2 small watering cans full.
Water downstairs twice a week, 2-3 small watering cans full, or use the large green watering can maybe 1/2 full.

2. Outside:

2.1 The succulents in the terracotta pots need water once every week at the most. They are tough, and prefer to be dry. Consider adding some water to the hanging birdbath when you're there, the birds will appreciate it greatly, and it's fun to watch them drink and bathe.

I tried tomatoes in these pots once, and I'm sooooo happy I've replace them with succulents.

2.2 The black pots and the two planters with the mini Japanese maples need water twice a week.

It always feels funny to me to water more in the shade than in the sun. But the CA natives that I have in the shade (and the Japanese maples) are from habitats where they get more water.

Ferns like moisture, and Rudbekia California, in the background, is from mountain meadows and streambanks. I really enjoyed the big yellow flowers, so it's worth the extra water - and I actually never use very much. My new Italian spray head (shown in the first picture) has served me well - I can adjust the volume at the top, the spray density at the other end, and lock and release the flow. It cost a bit more, but I think it will be worth it. And the nice lady from Lee Valley Tools who was selling it at the SF Flower and Garden Store said I can return it if it breaks down really quickly. So far, though, I've been very impressed.

When you're in that area, add a little water to the bird bath, and to the small pot in the flower bed right across from the sunroom.

2.3 Before you turn off the hose, water all the blue pots at the side of the house. These also need water about twice a week because they're shade plants that get a little midday sun.

Finally, water the succulents that hang on the fence in the pockets and the green wall contraption.

I'm not yet completely sure whether they need water that often, but it doesn't hurt to give them some, and it takes very little time.

And that's all, really. When I'm here, I might spray a little water over the other ferns or the ginger. But these are all California natives, so the worst that can happen is that they go summer dormant, only to start over green and beautiful when the rains start again in the fall.

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May Flowers in the Country Mouse Estate - Reseeding, Resprouting

May 7, 2013, 8:17 pm

≫ Next: Gardening with California Native Bulbs

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I've been enjoying a few blooms in particular lately. Most of them are blooms of plants that I propagated from local wild. And most of them are in the sunny pool garden...

Poppies golden poppies, Symbol of our state!! From purchased seed. Here with ornamental sage, and local native Stipa cernua, nodding needle grass in the background. Poppies are growing everywhere this year.

I've been harvesting the copious seeds of the nodding needlegrass, and also Stipa lepida, foothill needlegrass - another locally native needlegrass, with shorter awns. I'm leaving plenty for the birds. I think next year I'll grow more S. lepida, the foothill needlegrass.

I grew four different kinds of locally native bulbs from wild gathered seed, with varying success. My fault entirely - I forgot to feed the bulbs in the bulb boxes after harvesting the bigger ones, and the ones I planted out - probably didn't get enough water, or got eaten by gophers. Of the ones planted out - Fairy Lanterns, Calochortus albus did very well - as shown above, seed pods developing. Fremont's star lily - not so much. One plant grew, of the bulbs I planted out. And one fritillary, Fritillaria affinis (I was glad to get an ID on that one!) Soap root plant is doing great though.

The plant that's captivated me this year is Eriophyllum confertiflorum, golden yarrow - not a true yarrow. It brightens up so many spots around our property. Does best around here with a little shade, and some water - but it also grows on the arid and sunny chaparral slope down near the road. It's a perennial - just cut it back a bit for the next season.

Also I've been very happy to see that the hairy honeysuckle, Lonicera hispidula, that's growing through the golden yarrow here is doing so well. I grew this plant and others like it from local wild seed several years ago, and I'm enjoying how they sprawl around the edges of the garden and clamber up the fence here and there (they're not very tenacious climbers).

And I'm very happy to see that lupines large and small are reseeding all over the place. They are just starting to bloom. I'll be curious to see if these Lupinus arboreus pack it in after one year, as they did last year, or if they will be perennial as advertised. I also have seen a lot of the little annual lupine, L. bicolor.

Alum root, Heuchera micrantha, second year in its pot there. Just lovely! They are returning where I planted them - doing better with a little shade and water than in sunnier areas.

Over in the shady bed, things are looking interesting - and a bit chaotic. Right now Mimulus guttatus, seep monkey flower, is bursting out all over. I really love them - but if they dry out in the sun, they really wither big time.

The Verbena lilacena "De La Mina" is coming back after being pruned back hard last year. This is a nursery bought native that the butterflies love.

And here is a butterfly to prove it - The Variable Checkerspot or Chalcedon Checkerspot (Euphydryas chalcedona). It's been wonderful seeing their caterpillars and pupae too.

Well, that's it for now - I just wanted to share these native California blooms that make me feel so very happy. I'll be writing about a special garden bed I'm putting in, next time. Apart from enjoying the reseeding plants, I've mostly been weeding like crazy everywhere I can. But today - I was overjoyed to see that I've got seeds of local wild western columbine, Aquilegia formosa finally germinating - the first time I've had success with them - I hope I can bring them on!

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Gardening with California Native Bulbs

May 12, 2013, 10:15 am

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Triteleia ixiodes 'Starlight' - Pretty Face in Town Mouse garden

Town Mouse is going to be posting about her garden bulbs so first we thought it would be good to share some general info about growing native California bulbs. Some of this material was published in an article I wrote for the Santa Cruz Sentinel.

Growing tips:
California native bulbs are easier to grow in containers than in the ground -- both because bulbs are tasty food for burrowing critters and slugs, and because the bulbs must be kept dry when dormant in summer. Most bulbs like to be in full sun to part shade.

You can plant (or replant) bulbs in the fall, at a depth of three times the length or width of the bulb, whichever is greater. Or - generally three to six inches. Root end down!

A recommended potting mix is: 40% potting soil, 40% sand, 20% loam. Use pots that are at least eight inches deep.

Allow to dry between watering (as needed only) during the wet season, and keep dry during the dry summer season.

Fairy lanterns, Calochortus albus - gorgeous! Unpredictable in the garden.

It’s also useful to know that native bulbs do not like to grow among tall plants. In the vast wild-flower meadows of former days, they evolved along with grazing herds of antelope and elk that kept the vegetation low.

(Native people also used controlled burns to promote the growth of edible bulbs and for other reasons to do with support of their lifestyle (as we would say today). Because of native peoples' land management techniques, California had a lot more flower meadow/prairie landscapes than we see today, and they were rich with interesting and diverse life. Those prairies have been steadily closing in with shrubs and woodlands (or being converted to ag. uses). But that's another story.)

One flower in an umbel of Fremont's Star Lily, Toxicoscordion fremontii - they grow in the chaparral here, and also are common in our coastal prairies such as those near the UC Santa Cruz campus.

After blooming and seed set - gather seeds for sharing, and remove dried stalks for appearance sake. Bulbs in the ground disappear while dormant in the dry season, so keep that in mind when designing your garden plantings.

One bulb that is fairly easy to grow in the garden, though, is Meadow onion (Allium unifolium),

Meadow onion, Allium unifolium, starting to go to seed (sorry this photo has the wrong file name btw)

Meadow onion is not so readily eaten by animals, though gophers may snack on it, and it will spread -- if not irrigated in summer. Plant in sun to part shade in lean soil.

Soap Plant - usually pollinated by moths in the evening

Soap root plant (Chlorogalum pomeridianum), is another easy-to-grow bulb that can survive in the ground. Its tall spikes of small white flowers bloom from May to August and open in the late afternoon for pollination by moths. Soap root bulbs were used by native Americans to make brushes (using the fibers surrounding the bulb), for soap, and also to stun fish.

Ithuriel's spear, Triteleia laxa - kind of an odd color, maybe to do with the camera

Other native bulbs you can try in containers include these:

Elegant brodiaea, Brodiaea elegans
Blue dicks, Dichelostemma capitatum (ex. D. pulchellum) - blue. I had a few of these pop up unexpectedly in my garden this year! Why? I don't know!
Ookow, Dichelostemma congestum, bluish/purple - stalks can be three feet tall.White triteleia, Triteleia hyacinthina
Pretty face, Triteleia ixioides, a lovely creamy color (see first photo)
Ithuriel's spear, Triteleia laxa, generally blue/violet
Marsh Triteleia (also known as long-rayed broodier) Triteleia peduncularis
Other Calochortus genus bulbs - can be tricky but are very showy

Calochortus blooming in Town Mouse garden - maybe Ms T Mouse can let us know which species?

I've also grown local native bulbs: Fremont's Star Lily, Toxicoscordon fremontii, Fairy Lanterns, and (through sheer luck) Fritillaria affinis, checker lily.

Checker lily, Fritillaria affinis, in a Country Mouse paw!

Wishing you fun with native bulbs! Through spring you can enjoy their blooms - and plan for more plantings in the fall.

References:
CNPS Grow Natives blog post on bulbs

Wild Suburbia bulb post

Pacific Bulb Society - pages on each species are especially helpful.

You can also use our blog label "bulbs" to find more of our posts.

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Joy of Bulbing

May 15, 2013, 9:00 pm

≫ Next: Late Answer to an Unfortunate Exhibition

≪ Previous: Gardening with California Native Bulbs

I almost titled this post "Why don't Bulbs Read Books" - because I'm actually breaking the number 1 rule for bulbs in my garden - plant in containers.
I have in a container:

Colochortus luteus 'Golden Orb', the yellow Mariposa lily, above, which really does need perfect drainage.
Erythronium Pagoda, a 50% native trout lily, that really does need more water than my garden offers. I planted about 10, and most of them come up with shiny glossy leaves, but only the one in a pot, watered twice/week, blooms.

The rest of my bulbs are in various places in the garden - some years they so spectacularly well, and others, well, they seem to at least survive. Most of them. Here's what we had this year.

Triteleia 'Queen Fabiola (above), which I planted mostly in the front garden, usually does spectacularly well. This year, though, it's been mostly dry since the big rainstorm in December. I got a decent amount of leaves, but very few flowers.

In contrast, Allium unifolium has outdone itself this year. Big flowerheads in several locations in the garden, starting an attractive light purple and still looking good when faded to white. I put these bulbs in 2 years ago and thought them a loss initially, but there they were, a delight for all.

Also quite impressive is Dichelostemma ida-maia 'PinkDiamond'. At least 1 1/2 feet tall and very attractive to hummingbirds - just a bit showier than its cousin the red and lime green species.

Also quite spectacular this year is Triteleia ixiodes 'Starlight' - I planted quite a few of these bulbs this year and have been delighted by their pretty faces popping up in different locations in the garden. Fairly long blooming, this is definitely a winner. What's even better is that nobody thinks they're Agapanthus - and I get that comment a lot for Queen Fabiola.

So, how can these bulbs do all right in my clay soil, with mostly pretty poor drainage?

Where possible, I've planted them at a bit of a slope.
More importantly, I've planted them in areas with no summer water
Finally, I've probably lost some, and there are good years and bad years for the different species

If you have a "normal" garden that receives regular water, I urge you to follow the advice of planting in pots. On the other hand, if you have areas where your California natives grow happily without water, you might be fine planting in the ground. As for the critters, they seem to mostly go to my neighbors gardens, where fruit and vegetables are tasty treats (and they will not eat the Allium).

Let's hope it stays that way...

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Late Answer to an Unfortunate Exhibition

May 22, 2013, 8:40 pm

≫ Next: Yay! I'm a California Naturalist!

≪ Previous: Joy of Bulbing

At this year's SF Flower and Garden Show, one exhibit stood by not featuring plants, but featuring opinions. "Wanted Weeds" had reams of paper for people to comment on an idea that wasn't so very new - summarized in their garden description like this:

This garden provokes and inspires conversation, questioning our values around European invaders. The garden will be mobile as beds of weeds roll around the expo floor. When we think of weeds, we think tenacious, invasive, opportunistic…all negative judgments. However these villains can be virtuous host plants, nectar sources, and medicinals. We place our natives on a pedestal; we have a somewhat pious attitude about what should survive and thrive. Do we desire a pure white nature? Perhaps this fantasy is not worth perpetuating? Maybe changing our attitude about weeds is the answer and the nature that we should look towards.

I found the collection of weeds that were chosen quite interesting. I seem to remember yarrow - well, why not. But there was also dandelion, which I could live without, and the dreaded Ivy, which likes to smother everything in its path. This odd combination of naturalized, relative benign exotics and a clearly invasive exotic high on the Don't Plant a Pest list made me wonder whether the folks who put in this "garden" really thought about this question before provoking others to think. The group, urbanhedgerow.com - a collection of instigators, fine artists, and inspirators (whatever that is) does mostly art projects and might shy away from science.

So, here's some suggested reading, friends:

Invading Species Can Extinguish Native Plants Despite Recent Reports to the Contrary - see http://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2013/01/130109162030.htm
Invasive Plant Species May Harm Native Grasslands by Changing Soil Composition - see http://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2012/12/121219092817.htm

(And, just as an aside, I also think a native habitat with its astonishing biodiversity and change over the season does look more attractive than an area of ivy - at least here in California.

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Yay! I'm a California Naturalist!

May 25, 2013, 6:07 pm

≫ Next: Hillsides covered in blooming chamise

≪ Previous: Late Answer to an Unfortunate Exhibition

I spent a marvelous day today with my fellows in the California Naturalist Program at the UCSC Arboretum. We were wrapping up a 10 week program by presenting our "capstone projects."

Such a variety of wonderful projects there were, too, all to do with sharing nature with others and promoting understanding of our local area's natural treasures. I'll write about them another time. This is just a quick post...

But in the meantime, you can read all about the California Naturalist Program -- which is a statewide program that YOU may be able to participate in if you live in the state -- in an article I wrote for the Santa Cruz Sentinel. It was my "capstone project" for the program:

California Naturalist Program offers learning with a huge dollop of fun.

I urge you to read the article - not because I'm puffing myself - but because the program has been so FANTASTIC! -- and I hope to blog more about different aspects of it over the upcoming weeks.

It's Memorial Day Weekend here in the States. May you enjoy barbecues with friends and family -- and give some thought to the military people who have given their all.

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Hillsides covered in blooming chamise

May 27, 2013, 10:57 am

≫ Next: Dad's Memorial Garden, Planted

≪ Previous: Yay! I'm a California Naturalist!

Blossoms of chamise, tiny but exquisite

I live among a patchwork of plant communities: redwood, mixed-evergreen-forest, and chaparral covered slopes. With vineyards, orchards, corrals, homes, and gardens mixed in.

Right now the chaparral slopes are highlighted like one of those museum displays where you push the button to light up something on a map.

Chamise-chaparral slope near my home. It is facing south, and you can see a north-facing slope in the distance, covered by mixed evergreen forest

That's because all the south-facing slopes are covered in a pale cream sheen of chaparral blossoms. In the Santa Cruz Mountains, they blossom in May.

The type of chaparral we have here is known as chamise chaparral. It's the most common type of chaparral in California. As you might guess, the main component of this type of chaparral is chamise, Adenostoma fasciculatum.

Lots of other chaparral shrubs and small trees make up the mix, like manzanita, toyon, coyote bush, coffee-berry, and more. At this time of year, though, you wouldn't know it.

I recommend a set of gorgeous chamise photos by Pete Veilleux, which you can view here: Adenostoma fasciculatum - Chamise.

Pretty as it is, I have mixed feelings about chamise, which is also known as "grease-wood."

That's because of its known high flammability, combined with its proximity to my home, and other homes in these here hills.

In fact chamiso is Spanish for firewood!

So every couple of years, when I do my summer chaparral thinning and dead-wood removal tasks, I single out the chamise for coppicing. Chamise is a stump (or burl) sprouter, so I'm not killing it. Its roots stabilize the slope. And I also enjoy its fresh green growth -- which in May is covered with wonderful tiny creamy flowers that the bees feast upon.

Maybe I should do as the Native Americans did -- use the tough hardwood that I cut for making tools. Native people made clam-gathering sticks, arrow shafts, digging and reaming tools from the wood. * I wonder what I could make from it?

The Latin species name, fasciculatum, was given because the needle like leaves sprout in bundles, or fascicles.

And as Bert Wilson at Las Pilitas Nursery's fire page says, if you water lightly throughout the summer, every two weeks or so, the plants absorb enough water to significantly reduce their flammability.

Besides, it wouldn't be much of a chamise chaparral without any chamise, now, would it?

* Plants of San Luis Obispo, Matt Ritter. Kendall/Hunt, 2006.

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Dad's Memorial Garden, Planted

May 30, 2013, 11:47 am

≫ Next: Telling Fat from Slim False Solomon's Seal - and a bit of a botany lesson

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A few posts ago I mentioned I was working on a special little garden and would write more about it soon. Well, I was writing about my dad's memorial garden. My dad passed away in April. We miss him, but how can we feel bad -- 97 years of full life, and an easy passing. Can't complain.

We enjoyed having Dad live in the cottage next to our house. For the ten years he lived there, he fed the hummingbirds, gave 'em as much as they wanted -- sometimes a gallon of syrup a day! I'm feeding them now, much less, and planting hummingbird favorites around the cottage to provide lots of nectar.

As well as feeding the hummingbirds and caring for Duncan, his dog, Dad liked building computers -- lots of them! -- and also taking pictures of birds at the bird bath he could see from his window.

Dad's photo of a visiting black-headed grosbeak. You can view an album of his pictures here: Santa Cruz Birds.

So I decided to add some new plants to the area around the bird bath and put his ashes to rest there.

Dad's memorial garden - work in progress. Ribes nevadense in foreground.

Because I'm filling the bird bath every day or so, I can give this area some extra water. So I'm trying a few plants that need more water, or can tolerate it.

Ribes thacherianum, Santa Cruz Island gooseberry

The soil in this area is not the best -- compacted and a lot of clay. It gets sun from mid morning to mid afternoon, with some shade from trees. I'm growing some shrubs to fill the gap behind the garden, but they'll take a few years to fill in. I'll also tidy up the existing shrubs in a month or two.

Ribes sanguineum, pink flowering currant

Blossom of the pink flowering currant - R. nevadense is similar.

Of course I hope the hummingbirds will enjoy a lot of the plants. Here's a list of what I put in:

Three different flowering currants - from this year's CNPS spring plant sale:

Ribes sanguineum, pink flowering currant: Likes partial shade, occasional to moderate water, depending on where it's growing -- can also take regular water.
Ribes Thacherianum, Santa Cruz Island gooseberry. Likes part to full shade, occasional to moderate water. Dark pink to white flowers. It's rare in the wild.
Ribes nevadense, pink Sierra currant -- the high mountains version of pink flowering currant. Flexible as to water -- can even grow with its feet in water. Later flowering than the others - listed as April to July, and can take sun to partial shade.

Also I planted an Australian Grevillea, because my dad lived in Australia for many years, and hummingbirds enjoy their nectar.

And a mixture of other local wild flowers both just growing there, and some I had to hand from spring planting, mainly:

Alum root - Heuchera micrantha
Golden yarrow - Eriophyllum confertiflorum
Ruby chalice clarkia - Clarkia rubicundum
For late summer nectar, our local California fuchsia, Epilobium canis.
Bush lupine, Lupinus arboreus
Seep monkey flower, Mimulus guttatus
I also planted a tiny coffee berry seedling just downslope - Frangula californica.
And a wart-leaf ceanothus, Ceanothus papillosus, also on the downslope.
Also a mystery sedge which is growing really well in another garden area. it is really nice and green.

Mystery sedge!

Some of what's just growing wild. Rough leaf aster, Eurybia radulina in foreground not blooming yet

You'll have to check back next spring to see what all this can develop into, and its value to wildlife.

And here is Dad's great granddaughter, who used to light up his eyes with a smile. She will surely develop into a great gardener, if I have anything to do with it!

Helping plant the garden -- my younger daughter and granddaughter

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Telling Fat from Slim False Solomon's Seal - and a bit of a botany lesson

June 2, 2013, 8:55 am

≫ Next: Dara Emery's Seed Sowing Schedule (and Stories from Reality)

≪ Previous: Dad's Memorial Garden, Planted

As I walk the dirt road where I enjoy wildflowers and (con permiso) collect seeds, I encounter Maianthemumracemosum, false fat solomon's seal, and Maianthemum stellata, slim false solomon's seal. They are also known respectively as feathery false lily of the valley and starry false lily of the valley. But I haven't been sure which is which.

(Why the name false solomon's seal, you might ask -- I certainly did: the foliage is similar to the plant Solomon's Seal, polygonatum biflorum. And how did that plant get its name? Apparently the seal of Solomon is, sort of, visible on the rootstock, in the circular scars left by the stem after it dies back.)

I used to think that the difference was how fat the leaves are, but then I saw some fat leaved plants and some slim leaved plants, with similar flowers and fruits. So.... Hm... Time to get clear on this.

Google led me to a page called Vascular Plants of the Gila Wilderness - which taught me that the flower cluster - or inflorescence to be all botanical about it - is the telling part:

Maianthemum stellata - inflorescence is a raceme. A raceme looks kinda like a display of lolly-pops with their ends stuck in a central pole.

Maianthemum stellata - starry false lily of the valley (Source: Wildflower West - photo I have is blurry)

Maianthemum racemosum - inflorescence is a panicle. No, not a little panic -- a panicle is like - um - instead of lolly-pops coming off the central pole, smaller poles come off the central pole, each with its own display of lolly-pops.

Maianthemum racemosum - feathery false lily of the valley. It does look a lot more feathery!

It seems so clear to me now! How could I ever have not known this! -- Isn't that always the way with these things? Once we get the facts straight it's like we just perceive things directly -- yah, that's a junco and that's a chestnut backed chickadee, and that song is the spotted towhee. No information processing involved -- I find this quite amazing!

Knowing the botanical terms is helpful when you want to describe something without resorting to lolly-pops. I just Googled inflorescence types examples and looked at the images - worth many thousands of my words! Here is a basic one:

Source: Ohio State University Plant Facts Inflorescence page.

BTW, I planted some seeds of M. racemosum last fall, and I wrote about their interesting double-dormancy life cycle in this post. I'm not hopeful of success as yet. So I've collected seeds again, and this time I'm going to try and plant them directly in the ground - protected by in a mesh basket with a cage over - where I think they could grow naturally -- but don't -- on my property. We'll see!

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Dara Emery's Seed Sowing Schedule (and Stories from Reality)

June 7, 2013, 9:59 am

≫ Next: California Coastal Prairies - Part 1: Not your aaaaverage prairie!

≪ Previous: Telling Fat from Slim False Solomon's Seal - and a bit of a botany lesson

Lovely oily seeds of western columbine, Aquilegia formosa

It was back in 2009 that I tried for the first time to grow western columbine, Aquilegia formosa, from local seed, using a prescribed seed mixture as explained in this post.

That lot failed.

So did the next year's lot.

Last year I didn't try - till in September, I read that putting seeds in the fridge a few days was helpful, so I tried again, using seeds gathered in 2010 and some gathered in 2012. The 2010 seeds germinated - this spring! I did not record when they germinated, but I potted them on May 17th.

One of about a dozen - first success in germinating western columbine!
Note record keeping on label -- Need to put in a spreadsheet!

In his classic small book, Seed Propagation of Native California Plants, Dara Emery gives us his seed sowing schedule based on his experience at the Santa Barbara Botanic Garden. He itemizes the last date you can sow seeds to ensure (generally) that you can plant out when fall rains arrive. He doesn't itemize the earliest sowing times so I'm not sure when those are.

Dara Emery's Seed Sowing Schedule

By Mid-March: Most shrubs and trees
By July 1: Dudleya, Eriogonum, Heuchera. Min night temp 60-65F: desert shrubs and cacti
By July 15: Most herbaceous perennials, Mimulus aurantiacus
By September 1: Coreopsis maritima
By October 10: Lupinus
By October 15: Iris, Arctostaphylos, Dendromecon
In Late October: Annuals:

I bolded his general rules, and listed his exceptions, and used chronological order. In the book, the above is written as if he just wrote it down as the thoughts occurred to him and didn't have a decent editor. So I've organized it like I might have if I had been his editor.

The bulk of the book is a massively useful table with "recommended treatment" for seed of each species. In another section he explains the treatments - ranging from ice to fire to scarification by acid.

BTW, after many Google searches I have to conclude that this little book is out of print - I recommend you snap up a used copy ASAP, because it's an invaluable resource.

The other must have book for propagators is Growing California Native Plants by Marjorie Schmidt - now available in its second edition, much prettier than the first.

But I confess that - though I refer to the books always - I also just sow seed on impulse, as I did with the columbine. And as for growing media, I try to think about how things are happening out in the real world, and how I can mimic that or just do it -- because the seeds I grow are all native where I live and locally gathered. More organic material for woodland plants, more sand for chaparral plants - like that.

Around here, Western columbine grows at the edge of the woods and in dappled shade.

So I potted up the seedlings in a little richer mix than, say, blue witch, Solanum umbelliferum, which grows in the lean chaparral soil.

Right now I use organic potting mix in place of pure peat. It contains peat but also other things, so -- less peat. If I could get on board with composting -- WHEN I get on board with composting -- I'll switch to compost.

In case you don't know: peat is a non renewable resource that is basically "mined" from bogs where it took a long long time to form, from sphagnum moss that's inhibited from rotting, due to anaerobic conditions. It's mined a lot faster than it forms.

I hope these little plants thrive and I can plant them out with the rains in fall. With luck, they will reseed and spread, appearing each April to June, and disappearing till the following year. They are said to be deer resistant. Not sure about bunnies, but where I'm going to put them is not a bunny haven.

I plan to grow them on the neglected north slope, the woodland side of our property - and I'll have more to say about that part of the property other posts.

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California Coastal Prairies - Part 1: Not your aaaaverage prairie!

June 11, 2013, 1:31 pm

≫ Next: Small mysteries resolved - and a new bird encountered in the chaparral

≪ Previous: Dara Emery's Seed Sowing Schedule (and Stories from Reality)

Spring Wildflowers on the Carrizo Plain.
Spring 1998, after a heavy El Niño rain season. Located North of San Luis Obispo, off Highway 58 east of Elkhorn Road. Photo by Lisa Marrone. Image taken from this CalPoly page.

When I was little I'd go with my mother to the fabric store where she would root through colorful remnants in the bargain bins -- for way longer than I found enjoyable, I might add. Those bargains were surplus pieces, the ends from large bolts of cloth. All that we have left of our colorful California prairies, though, are the remnants.

Prairies once filled the huge central valley of California, and many places up and down the coast. But no more. And what is left are mostly degraded by the invasive mediterranean grasses that are now iconic of "California's golden hills." Or worse - are paved over.

You'd be wrong to think that a California prairie is made up mostly of grasses. This mistake was brought to us by the preconceptions of East Coast and Midwest botanists, whose idea of a prairie was based on those found on the Great Plains of the Midwest. In California, it's quite the reverse. Surveys of remnant prairies found that:

"The number of native wildflower species was far greater than the number of native grass species."

This quote is taken from the CNPS quarterly, Fremontia Vol 39 No. 2 and 3 combined issue devoted to the topic "California's Prairies and Grasslands." Download a full-color PDF of this wonderful issue (or any other) here.

Those botanists thought John Muir was smoking a non-native weed maybe -- but he was accurate in his description:

The Great Central Plain of California, during the months of March, April, and May, was one smooth, continuous bed of honey-bloom, so marvelously rich that, in walking from one end of it to the other, a distance of more than 400 miles, your foot would press about a hundred flowers at every step. Mints, gilias, nemophilas, castilleias, and innumerable compositæ were so crowded together that, had ninety-nine per cent. of them been taken away, the plain would still have seemed to any but Californians extravagantly flowery. The radiant, honey-ful corollas, touching and overlapping, and rising above one another, glowed in the living light like a sunset sky--one sheet of purple and gold, with the bright Sacramento pouring through the midst of it from the north, the San Joaquin from the south, and their many tributaries sweeping in at right angles from the mountains, dividing the plain into sections fringed with trees.

From John Muir, The Mountains of California, Chapter 16, The Bee-Pastures. Quote taken from this page in the John Muir Exhibit section of the Sierra Club web site.

It's true that coastal prairies tend to have more grasses than inland prairies. This is because of our more sandy soil. Prairies occur more typically on clay soils, whose poor drainage favors shallow rooting plants over deep rooting ones such as bunch grasses, shrubs, and trees. Coastal prairies feature deep-rooting bunch grasses and other grasses. You'll still find an abundance of flowers in spring, though.

(Not that there's anything wrong with native grasses -- far from it. I love native grasses. Visit the California Grasslands Association to find many native grass enthusiasts, classes, and etc!)

At the end of March, I was on a field trip to a coastal prairie area known as Marshall Field, on the UC Santa Cruz campus. We also wandered into a similar area in nearby Wilder Ranch State Park. The trip was part of the California Naturalist course I completed this spring.

It's easy to walk past amazing things in the degraded landscape. But beauty is there - not only vegetative either - here's a lovely little garter snake someone found.

Yours truly with garter snake. Looks just like a lot of grass in the background, but it holds jewels.

In these areas, I took photos of these flowering plants. You can find these elsewhere too. But as you can see - most forms growing in this prairie habitat are rather short.

Rare dwarf form of Fremont's starlily, Toxicoscordion fremontii

Annual - Witch's teeth, Hosackia gracilis

In the Iris family - Blue eyed grass, Sisyrinchium bellum

California goldenbanner, Thermopsis californica

Triteleia hyacinthina, white brodiaea

Brodiaea terrestris, dwarf brodiaea

Triteleia ixiodes, prettyface

Owl's clover, Castilleja exserta

I forget what this is!!

I'm interested in developing prairie type areas in my native plant garden. I plan to write more about this, and related thoughts on how native people managed California prairies, in future posts. In the meantime, you might enjoy an excellent series of posts documenting a High Sierra gardener's meadow - Sierra Foothill Garden blog's Meadow category of posts.

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Small mysteries resolved - and a new bird encountered in the chaparral

June 12, 2013, 11:05 am

≫ Next: And now for something completely different....

≪ Previous: California Coastal Prairies - Part 1: Not your aaaaverage prairie!

Vermivora celata. Image is from Las Pilitas: http://www.laspilitas.com/images/grid24_18/5614/California_birds/Wood_warblers/Orange-warbler/p1040658-Orange-crowned-warbler.jpg

I'm pretty stoked! It's a beginning birder sort of stokedness... Sitting outside in the mornings, I watch and listen. I sit in the garden, at the top of the chaparral slope. Lately I've been wondering: what's that warbling, descending in about a major or minor third, repeating. And what's that little olive green bird?

It follows the bushtits, gleaning insects from the underside of leaves and crevices in the shrubs. I have photos of the bushtits, but not the little olive bird. I took these the other day while sitting in the same spot. They move fast and acrobatically - so it's hard to get photos of them, even though there are at least thirty in a flock. They pass over the chaparral shrubs like a softly twittering cloud:

Bushtit, Psaltriparus minimus

Bushtit on manzanita

Bushtit on Toyon

Cotton ball - no wait - Bushtit! on toyon

Bushtit on coyote brush

Sweet little bushtit

I was thinking: Maybe the warble is a junco with an interesting change of pitch? Maybe the green bird is a warbling vireo?

Not till I asked Randy Morgan, experienced birder and legendary naturalist, while on a recent field trip did I get ahead in my search. Olive green, I told him, with a pale eyebrow marking:

"Oh - Could be an orange crowned warbler," he said.

"'Twas not orange," said I.

"Well, you wouldn't actually see the orange!" quoth he.

"Well, then... how is a person to know? " I wondered.

But today I saw not only the little green bird and saw him open his beak and go (using the sol-fa notation) "Meee-Doh" over and over ---- But also I SAW the orange crown! Orange crowned warbler, Vermivora celata! What a little beauty! How dare they call him "drab!"

 I just love it when these frustrating little mysteries are so wonderfully resolved. And now when I hear that descending warble I know - oh, he's just down the hill there. Sigh of pleasure! 

↧

And now for something completely different....

June 16, 2013, 8:06 pm

≫ Next: New thug in town - Dittrichia graveolens. How to get rid of it. And how to tell it from native Madia

≪ Previous: Small mysteries resolved - and a new bird encountered in the chaparral

Traveling can broaden our view of the world, and I've found that especially true of a recent 11 day, 160 mile hike in Franconia, organized by the Sierra Club.

And, while others exclaimed about the churches and half-timbered houses, I got a least as excited about the meadows. Above, a meadow covered in salvia, which seemed to thrive on the magnesium rich soils of Upper Franconia.

More common are the buttercups and Sauerampfer (Rumex acetosa). I used to nibble on its leaves when I was a kid, and still enjoyed the flavor even now.

I was especially happy to see lily-of-the-valley in the wild. They're hard to grow in gardens, and impossible to grow in areas that don't get sufficient frost.

And the graceful bellflowers covered some of the meadows with their pale, beautiful blue.

So pretty, so dainty, and so dependent on lots of moisture.

It was a bit of a shock to come home to the garden and to find that the beautiful spring flowers were all gone, that a lot of clean-up was needed. Several of the plants I had added to the garden in early spring did not survive the unusually high temperature and lack of extra babying in the last month. And yet, as the plums and peaches are ripening, as the birds gratefully come to visit the freshly filled birdbath, as I discover some blooms, I'm starting to make friends with my California garden again.

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New thug in town - Dittrichia graveolens. How to get rid of it. And how to tell it from native Madia

June 21, 2013, 6:06 pm

≫ Next: Learning from the Garden

≪ Previous: And now for something completely different....

Young Dittrichia graveolens, stinkwort, showing "Christmas tree" form

So I recently learned what that sticky smelly plant on my neighbor's grassy hill is. It's a very very bad weed! -- Dittrichia graveolens, commonly known as stinkwort. As editor of our local CNPS chapter's newsletter, I received a timely article from a member which solved that little mystery. The plant shown above is growing on that grassy hill today - but it won't live past tomorrow!

The content below pulls together two articles from the upcoming newsletter, text reused with permission, photos used with permission too. (Nice thing about the blog -- more room for photos.) It's good to spread the word widely about this widely spreading weed.

Wanted Dead or ... ... DEAD!

DITTRICHIA GRAVEOLENS, a.k.a. stinkwort, is a new invasive non-native plant to watch out for, first recorded in the early 1980s in Santa Clara County. It is a late-summer to fall annual that germinates over a prolonged period from May to September, putting it out of sync with the seasonal development—and control methods—of other non-native warm season annuals in the Asteraceae family.

Last year's skeleton still shows the "Christmas tree" shape. Surrounded by seedlings.

At maturity, the plant is the shape of a perfect Christmas tree. The tiny dandelion-like flowers are yellow and have ray and disc petals.

Stinkwort seeds have fluffy cobwebby filaments like dandelion seeds. Photo credit: Toni Corelli

The seeds are also dandelion-like and cobwebby. The seeds are wind-borne and sticky. They adhere to vehicles and heavy equipment, promoting dispersal along roadways and onto well-intentioned reclamation sites. Stinkwort is unpalatable to wildlife and livestock, and can cause them problems if ingested.

Buds, flowers, foliage of stinkwort. Photo credit: Toni Corelli

The flowers and foliage of stinkwort are like those of native tarweeds. See below for tips on telling them apart.

In small infestations the best method of control is hand pulling the young plants, preferably before they start flowering. If plants of Dittrichia are pulled when in flower they will continue to ripen seed even after they’re uprooted, so they should be bagged and disposed of and not left on the ground.

Uncontrolled, Dittrichia can convert large swaths of land to worthless monocultures.

Click here to view the California Invasive Plant Council page on Dittrichia.
Click here to view a wonderful poster on this scourge, from the Cal-IPC site.

Native Tarweeds

Madia elegans with (closed flowers of) Clarkia rubicunda in my garden. Both are local wild natives where I live.

Tarweeds are warm season annuals in the Asteraceae family. Madia elegans (common madia), Madia sativa (coast tarweed), Madia gracilis (slender tarweed), and Anisocarpus madioides (woodland madia) are a few of our more common local tarweeds. They occur in disturbed areas, grasslands and woodland habitats.

Woodland madia, Anisocarpus madioides. Photo credit: Pete Veilleux, East Bay Wilds

Madias range in size from about six inches up to six feet tall. Their foliage is heavily glandular (sticky!) with a sweet fragrance. The flowers are yellow, with disc and ray flowers. Madia elegans flowers are showy and can have brown in the disc and base of the ray petals. Flowers range in size from small to large and showy.

These tiny flowers sit atop a large plant! Madia sativa, coast tarweed.

Wildlife relish the seeds, which are dark and up to half a millimeter in size. Native people ground the seeds for pinole, a kind of flour.

This is probably Madia Sativa. Possibly Madia gracilis, slender media, which looks like M. sativa, but is smaller.
It has to be admitted that most Madias don't have a very garden-worthy form, including Madia elegans. Better with other things in front, or in the far off.

Madias can resemble the non-native, invasive Dittrichia graveolens (stinkwort). Both have similar yellow flowers and glandular, sticky foliage and stems. The main difference between them is that the Madia receptacle (where flowers are attached) bears scale-like bracts that subtend (occur below) the disk flowers, while the Dittrichia receptacle bears minute hairs among flowers. In addition the fragrance of Madia is light and sweet, whereas Dittrichia has a strong odor of camphor.

So - Weed early and weed often!

Lovely blossom of Madia elegans -- to end on an upbeat!

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Learning from the Garden

June 23, 2013, 6:47 pm

≫ Next: You have to see this...

≪ Previous: New thug in town - Dittrichia graveolens. How to get rid of it. And how to tell it from native Madia

I was touched by a recent post at Gardening Gone Wild about cultivating patience in the garden. But coming back from almost a month away, I found my garden had other lessons to teach.

The back garden looked messy. And after seeing so much green for so long, I found the brown leaves of the hummingbird sage a little jarring. But when I watched the finches on the lavender, I was happy again. The garden was teaching me to accept things as they are.

The front garden was a different story. With so little rain this spring, my unwatered side strip had sort of looked OK when I left. But when I returned, the hummingbird sage in that part of the garden was mostly dead.

To make things worse, I had probably waited too long to pull the overly rambunctiuous Phacelia. As a result, some of the plants had not survived. They didn't look good before I left, but were now well and truly dead. The garden is teaching me to take responsibility - and, I hope, to learn from my mistakes.

And after I'd been home for maybe a week, it all seemed magical again somehow. The monkeyflowers in the morning light. The Towhees jumping to get at some more grass seeds. The tangle of succulents, sage, and yarrow that seems to be flourishing.

The garden teaches me that things change all the time. What's happening in my life is changing - and how I perceive it is changing as well.

Thank you garden!

↧

You have to see this...

June 27, 2013, 7:47 pm

≫ Next: Orchids closer to home - Stream Orchids on Loma Prieta

≪ Previous: Learning from the Garden

I'm still not quite done with my trip to Europe - I still can't believe some of the amazing plants I saw this year. Above, a lady slipper orchid. The parents of our trip leader found this gem for us, it was actually to early in the season. The assured us that in June, some of the hills would be filled with these beauties, and people came in buses to admire them.

Also beautiful, though not yet in bloom, was the orchid above, which reminds me quite a bit of our native stream orchid.

And finally:

Here's a Knabenkraut, a dainty little orchid that grows, just like the others, in the magnesium-rich soil of Upper Franconia.

And with that, I promise the next post will be about native plants again, and maybe even about the garden.

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Orchids closer to home - Stream Orchids on Loma Prieta

July 2, 2013, 6:00 pm

≫ Next: Loma Prieta Red White and Blue flowers - they're in my garden too!

≪ Previous: You have to see this...

Epipactis gigantea, stream orchid, on Loma Prieta

I've been enjoying Town photos from her recent epic hiking tour in Germany - including those lovely lady slipper orchids.

I also saw some wonderful orchids recently, in our own neck of the woods -- pictured above.

This was on a hike, a couple weekends ago. I and a few friends and some other folk joined Randall Morgan, locally revered naturalist, CNPS Fellow, and subject of accolades besides -- that don't seem to have affected him a whit other than to make him feel a little awkward about it all.

Randall Morgan

If you are local you can join in one of Randy's upcoming hikes, as posted on the Santa Cruz CNPS web site. (I also wrote about him here if you want to know more about Randy himself.)

The hit of the whole trip of course was that large patch of stream orchids in full bloom, near the top of the highest peak in the Santa Cruz Mountains (at 3,791 feet).

Same patch of stream orchid - showing more

SFGate has a nice article on them here. Says you can grow stream orchid in your garden, under a variety of conditions, though it prefers humus-rich, moist soil in morning or filtered sun. Another interesting fact: "The lower lip and tongue move when the flower is touched or shaken, leading to the alternate name chatterbox orchid."

They were growing to the right (as you face it) of this spring. Unfortunately I didn't find out what the stonework and piping were about...

There was a lot more to relish on that day's hike. I'll post about it another time...

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Loma Prieta Red White and Blue flowers - they're in my garden too!

July 4, 2013, 3:16 pm

≫ Next: Loma Prieta Hike Part 3 - Wildlife and wonderful plants and wandering thoughts

≪ Previous: Orchids closer to home - Stream Orchids on Loma Prieta

Summit of Loma Prieta showing whatever you call all that electronics stuff up there.

This post is about the rest of the walk led by Randall Morgan that I wrote about last - those fabulous stream orchids!

Loma prieta means dark mountain, and it was the epicentre of the 1989 Loma Prieta earthquake that shook us all up quite a bit. You can go to the epicenter of that earthquake in the Forest of Nisene Marks SP.

We hiked the high flanks of Loma Prieta at a leisurely botanists' pace, along gravel access roads for the most part. I enjoyed seeing some plants in the wild that don't grow wild around my neck of the chaparral and forest - but that I have planted in my garden.

Loma Prieta is higher -- we were hiking at about 3000 feet above sea level - and farther inland than my home, which is at 930 feet elevation. So the plant community up there is actually quite a bit different. I was surprised to see some plants growing there that don't grow here wild -- and that I have planted in my garden.

(My three rules for buying California native plants are: 1. not locally native, 2. won't hybridize with local natives, 3. won't escape the garden. These are good rules if you live in a wild area like I do. Also I'm propagating local natives and don't want to alter the gene pool if I can help it).

For example, heartleaf penstemon was thriving on the rocky slopes along the trail:

Keckiella cordifolia, heart-leaf penstemon growing on a rocky slope on Loma Prieta

Keckiella cordifolia growing in my garden on a sunny mound.

In my garden heartleaf penstemon thrives on neglect and no water on a sunny hummock. It's growing tangled in with a sprawling thicket of Encelia californica, coast sunflower, which is a southern California native. This is good because heartleaf penstemon has an arching form and can be a bit scraggly all by itself. Back of border is good.

Hummingbirds love heartleaf penstemon. In fact this year an Allen's hummingbird "owns" the patch and guards it jealously from a low branch of a nearby small bay tree.

Another one I haven't seen growing wild here is pitcher sage, Lepichinia calycina - it was growing in many places on Loma Prieta, and nearing the end of its bloom.

Lepechinia calycina, pitcher sage -- another one that is grown in native plant gardens.

Fragrant pitcher sage, Lepechinia fragrans, is the southern version. L calycina is whitish whereas L. fragrans is pinker and also a bit fuzzier. Maybe a bit more fragrant? I'm not sure. Both are shade lovers, but actually mine gets quite a bit of sunlight. You can buy these also in native plant nurseries.

Lepechinia calcyna in my garden

As you can see it from the bottom of the photo, it does get woody - you have to whack it right back each year and it will regrow effusively.

And for my (sort of) blue plant --

Monardella villosa, coyote mint, on Loma Prieta

Actually it does grow wild near me but I didn't know that when I bought and planted mine. Also I have not been able to propagate our local ones, which are sparse and hard to find. If I can propagate our local ones then I'll switch to those.

Coyote mint is deer resistent and a great one for butterflies and other pollinators. It grows in full sun to partial shade starting in early summer and continuing - well, it's blooming now in July.

Monardella villosa - coyote mint - in my July garden

I find that in "regular garden conditions" - richer soil and some water - mine get very leggy. I did whack them back and the second year they have lots of flowers. However the stems are woody, long and floppy. Where they are dryer and have more poor soil they are not so floriferous maybe - but are also more compact. Have to strike a happy medium I guess. At least they are willing to grow under different conditions.

Well that's my red white and blue for Fourth of July -- And I still have some more fun native plants to share from this hike to Loma Prieta, next time I post.

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Loma Prieta Hike Part 3 - Wildlife and wonderful plants and wandering thoughts

July 6, 2013, 7:52 am

≫ Next: A Tale of Two Hummers

≪ Previous: Loma Prieta Red White and Blue flowers - they're in my garden too!

As we walked an experienced young tracker was paying less attention to the plants than to footprints and scat at the trailside. Not so pretty as a flower but fascinating to help build up a picture of life in the wild.

Maybe I should have opened with a prettier picture.... But this was as interesting as any flower. Fox maybe? There were fox-like prints nearby, according to the tracker on the hike.

Squint to see the spotted skunk foot print, two small round pads behind and five toes with claw mark in front of each.

She recommended a book... Mammal Tracks and Sign, by Mark Elbroch. Oh my - so much to learn!

Later that day I had my own experience of "tracking" -- it helped me figure out that a raccoon had been in the cottage! Not only did he (or she) make a mess of the dog kibble we keep in there, but she (or he) also left a little hand-shaped footprint, just inside the dog door we forgot to close up!

There's a reason they call raccoons bandits - and it isn't just their mask!

I'm also trying to learn about birds as well as plants, so on the hike, I was trying to stay close to our leader Randy Morgan, to benefit from his observations along the way. Randy is a great birder. I told him about one bird I've been trying to ID:

Me: It is way h,igh in the trees and
Randy: Oh, and it sounds like this -- he whistled the three note song - that's an olive-sided flycatcher.
Me: (mouth agape) Yes! You're right.

He liked my observation that it sounds like a whistled version of a California quail's call (commonly rendered by the word Chicago). I didn't even get to my astute observations that it seemed to have a band of white down the front and a large-ish head. Well here's a photo so you can see the bird itself, from the All About Birds page:

Olive-sided flycatcher

We also saw a flash of a blue grey gnatcatcher. Now I don't remember the small voice it had. But fortunately you can get a good look and listen on it's All About Birds page.

Another very cool non-plant event on the trip was a whiptail lizard crossing the trail. It looked to be at least 12 inches long. Here's a picture from CaliforniaHerps:

Whiptail lizard (not sure if it's the coastal species or not)

She stopped for quite a good long time so we could all get a good look. I think they pay them extra for that. I didn't want to risk frightening him off so I didn't raise my camera for a shot. I read the following interesting fact in an article (which may not be there now, but I read it in a Scientific American article by Katherine Harmon):

Since the 1960s scientists have known that some species of whiptail lizards need a male even less than a fish needs a bicycle. These all-lady lizard species (of the Aspidoscelis genus) from Mexico and the U.S. Southwest manage to produce well-bred offspring without the aid of male fertilization.

Wow!

Here are some other photos from that day...

Oh, I would also like to mention that Dylan Neubauer was along on this trip and helped me with a lot of IDs and also gave me some tips for identifying different local oaks, which I might write about another time. A former student of Randy's, she has risen to prominence in Santa Cruz County as a botanist par excellence, and, with Randy, has been updating the county's checklist, An Annotated Checklist of the Vascular Plants of Santa Cruz County, California. So locals, don't buy a copy now -- wait for the updated version, out soon!

Wow! Clematis lasiantha, chaparral clematis

Looking um. west? we saw Mount Umunhum.

Interestingly, there is a plan to convert the former military installation on top of Mount Umunhum into an open space preserve - and some controversy about whether to keep the cube-shaped radar tower on top (just visible on the flat peak at the right side) or remove it. (See this page for more.) My initial gut feeling is to keep it as a historical monument. I visited my sister who lived in South San Jose in the late 60s-early 70s. I remember seeing the radar scanner going around on top of this box. I found it terrifying that they were actively "defending" against the Soviet threat. And yet to my bafflement, people in California would ask me if I felt afraid living in the U.K., being so close to Russia and all!

But I probably am swinging towards the other view - remove that temporary abomination on the land and return it to its native state. Sort of native state. There is no "returning" really. The past is a foreign country as 'tis said.

Umunhum is a transliteration of a name that means Hummingbird's resting place in the Ohlone language. Or maybe Amah Mutsun is the more current name for the local native people. Or maybe that's a more specific sub-group within the Ohlone people. I'm still getting all that straight. Back to the flowers...

Collomia grandiflora - same family as Indian paintbrush. Found in most parts of California.

Hoita strobilina, Loma Prieta hoita - a rare native plant. It has leaves of three, something like poison oak, except the leaves are oval. Pretty lupine-like flower.

This species, Eriophyllum lanatum or woolly sunflower, has single flowers. It is related to one that I grow from local natives -- Eriophylum confertiflora (common name: golden yarrow though it's not yarrow). The one I grow has multiple flowers on the inflorescence. We also saw some apparently natural hybrids of these two.

This pretty is squirreltail grass, Elymus elymoides, or possibly Elymus multicetus

I resisted the urge to collect! Probably seed pods of Fritillaria affinis, checker lily.

We entered an area of serpentinite, which is our state mineral actually.

There was a movement a while back to remove serpentinite from its status as our state mineral because it has some sort of asbestos in it -- but it was all a flap with no scientific basis. Yes there is some asbestos component and no you can't inhale it and get cancer from it without really really trying to get that powder out to inhale it for many many years. I think it's the state rock because it's associated with gold deposits - or because at one point they thought they could mine it for asbestos and make money -- but better to think it's because of the unique flora that grows on serpentine. Here's an interesting article about all this. Edgewood park on the Santa Clara Valley side of the mountains from me has interesting serpentine grassland plant communities. Here's a Bay Nature article on that.

Rambling on with the hike, and this post! ...

A view from the trail. Sorry - not sure what exactly we're looking at - just gives you an idea of the chaparral up there.

Silverpuffs, Uropappus lindleyi, nestling in shrubs. Very shiny pappi. Flower is dandelion-like.

Nutmeg - Torreyana californica. Some expressed the thought that the trailside whacking was a bit extreme here and mourned what must have been a nice big shrub (or small tree) now stump sprouting here. Lovely foliage.

Oh I think this was a white version of coyote mint which is normally bluish purplish.

Venus thistle, Circium occidentale. A pretty raspberry color. Isn't it funny how knowing something is "good" makes it more pretty? I do try always to admire the beauty of weeds such as bull thistle. And then I yank them.

And this is the fluffy seed head of the venus thistle. Much relished by wildlife. Much like the seedhead of the bull thistle ;-}

Um... That's the thing with hikes - so many new flowers and things. More Hoita strobilina maybe? Darn!

Elymus glaucus, blue wild rye, tall and slim grass in the foreground - bit hard to see.

Nice elegant grass. I thought. Until I looked up its entry on Las Pilitas Nursery website which ends "We grow it primarily for the garden designers that do not read this." I'm idly looking for warm season grasses that might look nice in the garden, and that are locally native. I don't see any around my immediate vicinity though.

The interesting foliage of Indian Warrior, Pedicularis densiflora, a plant that is hemiparasitic on other chaparral plants, and has a lovely raspberry colored flower. Not often successfully grown in a garden. The physical connection is apparently not discoverable (cue the twilight zone music!).

Indian paintbrush, Castilleja affinis, is also said to be hemiparasitic though it can also survive on its own. Las Pilitas likes it for a garden plant. I have seeds of Indian paintbrush, gathered locally! I'm looking forward to trying to germinate them soon.

A shot from the roadside, near the end of the hike - looking over to Morgan Hill and, I believe, Henry Coe State Park, where I really really must go sometime, and if I do - I'm sure I'll find lots there to share in another post.

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Wanted Dead or ... ... DEAD!

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