Tag Archives: mulefat

A Walk, a Wall, a Wash: Tujunga

Unusually dark, almost black squirrel. Portola seems to point to that squirrel; his gesture is a message for the Indians! Hallo; Portola didn’t explore California in a ship. Nor did he wear a Conquistador’s moro. Hmm..I suppose it’s meant as Portola, the embodiment of Cortez, still in the eighteenth century savaging the continent, still seeking Califia and her gold-banded viragoes. Hmm… the art made me think. So I guess the squrrel was just a McGuffin?

I went over to check the the other side — and sort of cheered up…

Growing up and through the arms of a sheltering white sage, I found a saltbush. I had just seen one on Sugarloaf last week, and tried to research the species name by using the usual head-banging method: stabbing words into the search engine, which you think would describe the plant to a botanist, if you were trying to think as botanists think. Chaparral erect shrub; numerous spikes cones inflorescences small yellow flowers; leaves dull green like oak but pointy spiny spiked pike-shaped lobed; September flower. Try! If you pull up saltbush I’m a Dutchman. I finally gave up and went to check the Linnaean for mulefat; and up came a random nature page that said it featured mulefat — but not showing mulefat at ALL. But there was a saltbush in the corner of the shot, and they, mentioned it the caption. So now I know! You too. Check out the fabulous leaves. They’re soft, not sharp at all.

Like almost every plant in the CFP this could easily be a prized garden ornamental. I went to Home Depot today on a yard-redo-job, and in their entire enormous garden wing, they had NOT ONE CFP plant for sale, except the remote possibility that some of the succuulents might be CFP cactus. But they didn’t even carry cholla! (I doubled right back to the Theodore Payne Foundation, nevermind the traffic, and got the right plants for a California garden…) My California Initiative PLANT YOUR FUTURE! STATEWIDE, NO SALES TAX ON CFP PLANTS! Write your assemblyman. California plants hardly need water and don’t need any fertilizer or soil amendments WHATSOEVER. Every nursery in California should have them on prominent display, instead of their fifteen aisles full of butterfly bushes and pesticides and hi-nitro jump-juice that are poisoning the world. A CFP yard is practically free and brings butterflies and birds and bees TO LIFE and TO YOUR DOOR; a ‘conventional’ garden (lawn; plus your normal hyper-toxed beds-and-borders full of showy exotics) is expensive and KILLS LIFE DEAD. It’s as simple as that.

The tan-yellow veins in the schist were dazzling with mineral sparkles in the afternoon sun; but the sparkle never comes out in photos. Gold-bearing ore? Gold Creek is a Tujunga Tributary.,.

And Then, California Does This…

FALL COLORS DEPT.

They don’t want folks in here for a very good reason: this is LA’s water supply. But it is important for citizens to connect with the divine places. If you’ve got limber knees and honor the sagebrush and ask Chinigchinich and know the right access points to pull over for an hour — ah! que cela suffise. Big Tujunga Canyon, on a breezy bright November day. This is Scorpio time, the best of the year.

I

The Painted Ladies

About half the size of Monarchs, the Painted Ladies still share all their dazzling colors and patterns.

Vanessa cardui, which is a great name for a “painted lady,” say, in a Nathaniel West story.

Our wet winter triggered a grand migration of Painted Lady butterflies. With wildflowers along the coast at maximum fecundity, the gaudy flutterers decided conditions were ripe for an epic, multi-generational flight from southern Mexico, through the green, super-blooming hills of California, up to the Pacific Northwest. (Multi-generational, meaning, when one generation gets tired, they stop, mate, lay eggs, then die. When the next generation is born, it stores up yellow fat, then takes off to gain another 200 miles north. Apparently they span the globe, like this.)


It was unsettling to drive today: every car length put twenty striving aeronauts in the path of the windshield. You could see them surfing unseen currents, north, north, ever north, against a stiff northern wind. They dodged cement mixers, traversed freeways, streamed through parking garages, reeled away from glass towers with incinerator-ray reflections, and slogged over acres of nothing-but-rocks corporate landscaping. The lucky ones found the Sepulveda Dam Wildlife Refuge, with a banquet in bloom, and plenty of leafy nooks to make the next generation of striving caterpillars and lay down the old exoskeleton. Sticky and fresh, the mulefat blossoms beat out the golden-currant bells, 10-1. Those bugs love that mulefat.

Sepulveda Basin in Bloom

The native plants at the Sepulveda Dam are in full-out gorgeous summer bloom.