The Natives

When I wrote the last post a month ago, and never got around to posting it, I sincerely believed the worst of the southern California summer was over. Fortunately for me, I didn’t know what was coming – life is merciful that way. It’s over now, but our heat wave was really too much. Today, we are sitting outside after having our lunch in the shade, and perfectly comfortable. What a blessing.

As you might imagine after the dismal previous post, I have nothing to write about in my garden. I intend to sow some seeds soon, and hope for a better Fall. But here are some interesting and unusual things I thought you might enjoy.

I loudly called Wolfi (it was not a scream) to come to the bathroom. This handsome fellow was there and did not appreciate our efforts to relocate him to a more welcoming place. Tarantulas are nearly harmless, and Wolfi has nearly convinced me they are cute. We first saw one on the driveway a few weeks ago, and removed it to the entrance to the hills. We hope it was not he we saw a few days later, having been stung by and now being dragged across the path by a “tarantula hawk”, one of the less-appealing insects I have encountered. More recently Wolfi found a scorpion in the office. How do these creatures get in our house?

California buckwheat (Eriogonum fasciculatum) is one of my favorite native plants. Here it is in late summer, when the flowers, pink to white in spring and early summer, have gone to seed and turned tumbleweeds (Salsola tragus) are the most frequent. I will try distributing buckwheat seeds there.

We picked up some paddles that had fallen off a huge cactus fence (Opuntia littoralis) nearby. They appeared dead, but did grow – after a few months little baby paddles sprouted! Most of them became prickly pears, first blooming as a lovely yellow flower that was gone in a day. A few formed new paddles.

One of the most surprising joys of this summer was the discovery of one very productive elderberry tree, way back in the hills. Claire, Lucy and I took a long route one morning on our walk, and discovered it just as its fruits were frosted at the peak of ripeness. We must have collected 10 or 15 pounds over the next couple of weeks. We froze some (and discovered that the fastest way to get them off the bush is to freeze the bunches whole, then knock them off gently onto a cookie sheet while still frozen) and will be able to have them on cereal through the winter. Their antioxidant and virus-

fighting capacity is legendary – evidently they work better than tamiflu! To me, the wonder of a fruitful bush/tree (this one is over 10 feet tall and the radius is probably 15-20 feet) in a canyon that saw its last rainfall 3-4 months previous is mind-boggling. My melancholy at missing our yearly weekend of visiting the Miller farm and hiking Gap Mountain for blueberries with the Weigels was at least partially eased by this discovery.

I'll finish with one last uninvited guest, who left without us being able to make their acquaintance, but left behind the evidence of their visit (toes included for scale). Maybe it was a rat snake?