algae – PolliNative

French Fire plume growing fast

It is going to be a bad fire year. We have already had three fires near the house and the French Fire burning right up to the edge of town. I have more air traffic than normal – big planes and helicopters – flying to one fire or another. There are so many all around the region and state. It has been stressful to say the least – and hot. Even if you are in air conditioning, the heat weighs on you. What I have found is that when there are many contiguous days of temperatures over 100 degrees F, the heat just stays. Nothing has a chance to cool down. This includes the human body. There is only so much it can take before you begin to see changes, and that tolerance level is different for everyone. For me, it gets to be too much after a couple weeks, again, even when I am in air conditioning.

I notice it in people all around me as well. Some guy took the time to yell at my mother-in-law and I, for example, for standing too near a crosswalk. It seems we inconvenienced him by 5 seconds in that he had to decide if he should stop to let us cross or not. The heat is getting to people, and they are acting crazy.

The heat is bad enough, but when you look out your window and see sticks where lush plants and happy flowers used to be, it is can be depressing. The grasshoppers have receded from their population of billions, but they are still here in the 1000s. I won’t be able to release my lone milkweed survivor until there are nearly none. Yesterday, I counted 9 on the cage, but there are thousands still in the grass all around. I feel badly for her gorgeous, nectar-rich flowers that have bloomed with no butterfly, bee, fly or moth to use it. Even if pollinators were near, the flowers are behind screen, only able to bloom because they were imprisoned. What a great day it will be when I release her stems, leaves and petals.

Hoppers catching a break from the sun under a rock holding the screen box in place

I am seeding more plants now, a little too late in the season for some, in the hope that I will have some more life out there, even if I have to plant it myself. My goodness — seeds are a miracle in this life. I am so grateful for their puny-sized, packaged progeny, patient and planning their emergence. Seeds, I love you.

As I lament, I must also recognize the resilience of the life that is left. Acorns are emerging. The songbirds continue to stay. Large raptors and vultures soar. Lizards dart from one location to the next, while the California Toads move at night, leaving their poop behind. Small frogs have begun to show themselves, emerging from the tendrils of willow roots and debris in potted plants. Dragonflies have been more visible at the house, and not just in the creek where there is still running water. A beautiful green snake took up residence near the toad pond (presumably because dinner is very near and fat). Even a cool hopping insect that looks like a leaf was hanging around on the Polaris. Life is all around and abundant – and some that were eaten will return.

Water Still Running

The creeks are still running. They are providing much needed water access and sustenance for the plant life adjacent to the creeks.

Unfortunately, the amount of nutrients in the water from cattle dung and the heat are causing algae to bloom. Algae is an interesting life form. It can be toxic. Its decomposition can suffocate life in the water, but it also provides a significant portion of oxygen on the planet, much like forests.

I don’t know if the green algae on the creek is harmful, but I don’t mess with it – – except to throw rocks into the spring and puddles to break up its thickness, and open some holes to the water underneath. This is in part some of the reason I fence out cattle, to decrease the amount of excess nutrients going into the water. I cannot help upstream, but I can decrease the overall amount as it moves through my ranch at least.

Riparian Oak Seedlings Still Alive

I am overjoyed to report that the oak seedlings in the riparian areas still have leaves. I did see some damage to the leaves, but that is all. The grasshoppers did not fully destroy them as they did the very young plants I planted.

I learned recently that what looks to be like a young oak can actually be decades old. This was mind blowing. Given this, perhaps the small oaks in the riparian area have developed a more mature protective element to their leaves and bark that prevented more predation. I know that what I call seedlings are actually many years old since I’ve been protecting them for over a decade with downed branches when the area was open to grazing. Their smallness is a product of grazing and drought. It has been a huge relief to see them grow last year and this year in response to more water and protection.

This success is all the more important as I continue to see decline among the adults on the hillsides. On my walk yesterday, I heard a horrible loud crack. I looked in the direction of the noise and saw movement in one of the grand oaks on the south hillside slope from the house. Then, I saw an entire branch fall. It continued to crack then crash down.

I was horrified, sad, angry- oh, how I grieve for these crucial lives. I keep thinking, “What can I do better?” I don’t use much water at the house. I put water back into the ground. I am slowing water. I guess I need to do more dirt work and create little moats below and above groves of trees, outside their drip lines, to capture water as it runs down hill during rain events. The work cannot begin until the soil is moist again. The metal edges of tractor buckets can cause a spark, and this whole place is filled with dried out, tall, European Grasses. Another year going by; the clock ticking on what can be done and if it will be too late to help. And, the cost – it will be all on me to cover with no program to help.

Breathe. Deep in. Full out. Repeat…Repeat. Reminder: you can only do what you can do. Much is out of your control and so much larger than you. You are not absolved of responsibility, but the full responsibility is not yours and yours alone. Stay healthy. Keep your joy and continue working at a pace you can sustain.

Extreme Heat is Not an Acceptable Norm

I know the extreme heat is a key factor in the death, piece by piece, of my oak relatives. It causes the death of thousands of people per year in the United States, and that is increasing. We cannot accept this as normal. If we love this incredible land, ocean, waterways and sky, if we love our children, then we must be intentional in our actions. I know this issue, like the oaks falling apart, is larger than one person. If we each contribute something, then things can get better. We have seen this happen already with the butterflies. Acting together, many planting milkweed and more nectar plants, have helped bring the monarchs back from the brink of extinction on the west. Although we have more to do to stabilize the population, we are on the right track.

Every choice we make as individuals makes an impact. You don’t have to deprive yourself at every turn; what I am suggesting is that we have to understand that our individual choices have consequences. In knowing this, we can make informed choices, not let guilt-aversion act as a barrier to good action and understand that we are each important change-makers in how the future is shaped. This is big; I know. Please don’t loose your sense of hope. It is some of the most powerful medicine we have. Aho.

January and February have been nice. Although I’ve still been out monitoring and planning, I have not had to do as much physical labor. The rest has been welcome. Last December and November, I planted the Xerces Grassland Habitat Kit – over 200 plants and perhaps 1000 seeds. Certainly, this is an effort of love for the land, love for butterflies and bees. This week feels more spring-like, so I am outside again performing maintenance labor. While out pulling grass and straightening gopher baskets already planted into the ground, I saw the first butterfly of the season. What incentive!

The monarch overwintering count has been encouraging, with the number of adults just over 330,000. This is up from the 260,000 last year. We all need to recognize, however, that these numbers are nothing compared to what their population should be. Monarch and other butterflies were in the millions in most of our lifetimes back in the 1980s. Please continue to do everything you can do to build habitat and make conditions livable for these relatives of ours.

Rains Bring Flowers

As I’ve performed my walks about the ranch, the smell of nectar hangs in the air. It is so sweet. My mind turns fuzzy – like that “in love” brain block. I am intoxicated from the smell. It is no wonder February is the month we celebrate love. I try not to admit that the fuzzy head is from a histamine reaction – allergies. The sense of being in love with the world is too pleasant a thought.

I follow my nose and am led to small, low growing white flowers. There are millions of them in all the areas without much grass. These are the first wildflowers of the season to emerge.

In just a week, there are more blooms. Arugula, not a native plant, but very prolific (and delicious), begin to blossom. There are thousands of plants with many flowers each. Then lavender….then brodiaea…and soon many more.

Water

Weeks after the major storms, the arroyos are still running, albeit a trickle, but still moving. The creeks are running well, but slowing. Pockets of algae are beginning to form. Algae occurs when there is significant nutrients in the water – typically the result of fertilizers farmers use and livestock. Here, it is the result of cattle poop. The cows were rotated to the north just after the big storms. The algae began to show last week. It is one of the down sides of cows. Algae can starve water of oxygen and make it inhabitable for other life. When it gets think, I try to open up holes on the surface of the water to allow movement and oxygen absorption. It is a losing battle of course. Unless I remove it after it forms, it just grows back again.

The force of the water was so tremendous, it blanched rocks – making the rock surfaces white. The torrent also deposited a remarkable amount of rock and sand into the creek channels. In some locations, the height of rock piles increased by 6″.

Water has receded reveling sandy edges and bars

Although it was shifted around during higher flow times, the bulk of my rock check dam held. It retained the sediment, which built up behind it. It is absolutely stunning how much rock and sediment flowed down even on small creeks.

Rock check dam. Note the sediment behind and to the right

Fire

I attended the Southern Sierra Miwuk Traditional Ecological Knowledge program, which was two days. The second day, we worked on using fire to make the ground and specific plants healthy. I am not too comfortable around large fires – small fires ok – but large are a bit daunting. With each experience, I get a little more comfortable. I would like to have a burn at the ranch in fall and target eliminating medusa head and promoting some of the riparian native plants.