gardening – PolliNative

Fall is in the Sky on the Ground and in my Nose

Tarweed, with its most incredible of smells, is bursting all around. Its first blooms tell me that Fall is near. Acorns are dropping, some with the almost neon green of youth and others with the dark brown of maturity. The wind has been knocking them out of the tree, too soon for some and just right for the others. Then, we have been witnessing the nightly spectacle of a thousand ravens fly from the valley to the foothills on their dusk time commute to roost safely somewhere up hill from us. David and I have been sitting on the front patio to watch this massive nightly migration. You can hear the wings flapping before you see them. It is incredible. We are waiting to begin seeing the tarantulas. This is the one harbinger of Fall that we have not seen yet. Probably soon!

Seed Collecting

For the past couple months, I have been seed collecting, storing up for next year. I’ve shared when I’ve had an abundance and left most for the birds, other wildlife and propagation. I plan to do a burn to rejuvinate the land and clear thatch of medusa head. These seeds will help make a good start.

Guzzler Work and Visitors

David has been busy at work on the metal building to be used to shelter tanks and collect rain water for the guzzler. I oversized it to eventually include a larger volume tank that will irrigate my next project of establishing a field of native grasses. For now, the shed holds a smaller 1,500 gallon tank to keep fresh water in the wildlife guzzler. We installed stainless steel mesh gutter screens to improve the quality of the rainwater catch. Although we took the flat area to hardpan and David and I both raked the ground to clear rocks, there were still quite a few rocks embedded in the hardpan. In order to prevent water tank punctures from those rocks, we chose to install a rubber mat floor to be a barrier between the tank and the rocky surface. Remember, water weighs 8.34 lbs per gallon. Full, the tank will weigh 12,510 lbs. That would be a lot of downward pressure onto those rocks. I want to say a very public “Thank you” to David for his tremendous work on building this building for me. It came out great and will yield up to 2,302 gallons of rain water in an average precipitation year.

We plan to build a wooden structure to cover the tank that will be linked to Guzzler 2 in the near future. Why wood and not another metal building? We are planning to build on a slope. Metal buildings need a flat surface. With wood, we can place the post on piers that will level the structure.

You may wonder why all this effort to feed some guzzlers that already have their own catchment system – wildlife and drought. We barely made it through a normal precipitation year last year with water in the guzzler. There was an inch left, and it was getting use. We lived through the drought and saw so many insects, birds and animals desperate for water. I remember placing a bird bath in the middle of the drainage during a drought. I would haul water to it and fill it up daily. Bees, flies, dragonflies and birds all flocked to it in large numbers. I never saw bees aggregate like that. It stayed with me. When I learned about guzzlers that came with their own escape ramps built in to prevent animal drownings, I started to plan them across the ranch. I also thought about how I could retain the creek water longer as well, thus the rock and log drop structures. Water is life. You really understand this during a drought.

Animals have been using the guzzlers even when the creeks have water. I am so grateful for the opportunity to make a difference in their lives and return some resource where it has been over-drafted by human activity. The guzzlers have seen so pretty cool activity over the past several weeks.

Currently in Bloom Plus Cool Seeds

There is ample nectar but not many nectar users around the house. I’ve seen some silver native bees, european honeybees, hummingbirds, and a few mournful duskywing butterflies – oh and ants too. That is about it. Still no monarchs. I check the milkweed daily and nothing. If we do not get them again, that will make three times in a row we’ve not hosted. That makes me very sad.

Not pictured are verbena, and basil. Both are in bloom. We also have a good volume of tarweed. The air smells beautiful.

More Wildlife

Oak Seedlings Update

I’ve continued watering through the season. Most of the seedlings are doing great. I’ve begun to remove the screens that saved them from grasshoppers. It seems like they feel a freedom. They come out and just feel tall and happy. It has been an emotional up and down process with some being eaten by the hoppers early on – but not so much that they had no chance to come back. In all, four seem to have been stunted by the attack. As long as they are still firmly in the ground, I will hold hope that they will come back next year. In a big shock, one of my healthiest, happiest oaks developed a thick, disgusting fungus. I took off all structures around it to give it more air. I hope the sun will kill it off. So far, it has not resolved. She is strong, and I am hopeful she will survive this.

The seedlings will be dropping their leaves soon. I still need to surround the naturally recruited seedlings, which had dwindled in number from gopher predation, with a coir pad. This will help limit grass growth around it and aid me in identification of where they are at. This is helpful so we don’t weed whack them next year.

Oak seedling with roots eaten by gophers

Transition

We began this post talking about the transition to fall. I began writing it in mid August as I was seeing signs of the change. Now, here we are well past the fall equinox. It is definitely fall – more storms and temp drops. In addition to the seasons, life continues to shift for me. My father, who I’ve cared for the last year and a half and who has lived with me for over a year, moved out to become more independent with some support in a larger city. I found myself missing him emerging from the room that was once mine, which I gave to him, and me saying “Good morning! Sleep well?” Always up first, I would be sure to have water ready for a hot cup of tea, and medications organized. Caring for someone takes organization. It is process on top of process to ensure wellness. I don’t miss the horrors of his illness and the mental, emotional and physical exhaustion, but I do miss the camaraderie. Fortunately, he is not far away. He is thriving, and we visit him at least weekly and call several times a week.

Last week, my beloved old lab Bibitrix also moved on. She had an injury that was not healing fast enough, and her body got sicker and just gave out. There are few blogs that do not contain at least one sighting of Trix – in foreground or back. She has been my steady companion for nearly 11 years and the most “solid” of all my fur babies. No issues, just enormous love, tail wags when I entered the room, closed eyes as I stroked her head. Just sweetness in a 60+ lb package of black fur. I am glad she is no longer suffering. She lived a charmed life being loved by all and benefiting from our family’s active lifestyle – traveling here and there, seeing relatives that spoiled her, swimming in gorgeous mountain waters, hiking across open rangeland and forests. She had a babysitter that would bake her organic chicken for dinner. Most nights, she ate better than me. Oh, I am taking a deep breath now to stave off tears and sigh. We love our animals so deeply. They are innocents we protect and support. It is the cycle of life, and we are never really ready to close the loop.

I love you with all my heart and miss you so much. May your spirit be frolicking in open lands, swimming and getting lots of belly rubs and food – your favorites.

Flowers, Oaks and Rangeland Care

We have gotten lucky. The grasshoppers have not stripped everything. Their population exploded, especially near the riparian areas, then, all of the sudden, they abated. The hoppers had started eating their way up the hill. They hit some of my outlying plots hard, but then stayed away from the habitat closer to the hilltop. The oaks planted on the lower Spring Creek area and those down hill from the hilltop were not so fortunate. They were eaten, but quick action with screen boxes saved some. Several have come back and are leafing out again. I gave out a loud yip when I saw that. I had felt so dejected. I still lament the loss of the other trees. It is difficult to get a blue oak to grow under my specific conditions – heat, grasshoppers, gophers. Every year lost is one year less with young trees. I have to do better.

Since my last post, I have been focused on watering the oaks every five days. Having this cadence seems to be a recipe for success. It helps me not only keep them hydrated, but to trouble shoot any issues they may be having. The remarkably cool weather, for a July, has been helping give these trees a chance. I love them so much, and want them to thrive.

Lower Spring Creek: Bottom center right, oak comes back from hoppers

With the hoppers having abated, David and I have been slowly releasing the plants we covered in screen boxes. They have done very well. We are keeping the oaks in screen boxes just in case. I will plan to lift those in September. Thank you again to David and Sam for making those so quickly!

Blooms

Blooming on July 13 when I began this post and mostly still blooming now are pacific asters, datura, sunflowers, matilla poppy, California poppy, narrowleaf milkweed, California fuchsia rabbit brush, black-eyed susan, marigold, sulfur buckeye, and worm wood. There were a couple small blooms on the white sage, basil and other garden items.

Yellow flower is a magnet for fly type pollinators

Ranch Maintenance

One of the things I love about living on a ranch is that there is always something to do. David and I finally got to the fallen trees and water gaps on Odom Creek. After one of the last major storms this past winter, high winds blew down several branches and dead trees. Two fell on the Odom Creek riparian exclusion fence, making the fence slack. High waters from a rain event took the tin blocking cattle access through the water gaps (areas where the creek flows through between two stream banks under a fence crossing the creek) and deposited them downstream. I retrieved them soon after the storm but did not replace them until several months later due to other issues requiring my attention.

With the tin down, it opened a small pathway for cattle to get into the exclusion. Grass and creek plants that typically grow inside the exclusion area were nowhere to be found. Adding to this was the large number of grasshoppers near the riparian areas this year. Thistle, which the cattle normally leave alone due to their spiky, tough exterior, were stripped to skeletons. Both contributed to no vinegar weed (another favorite), less watercress, no milkweed and no thistle nectar.

Wildlife

Although I’ve not see as much wildlife as I have in the past, there have still been some beautiful encounters. Running across the road in the near area, and sadly no photos, I have seen coyote, a bobcat and bunnies. Below are other friends.

Seed Collection

As plants begin to die back and set their seeds, I have been out collecting. I never collect more than 10% of what is available. I share with the birds as well as leaving plenty to grow the next generation.

Rainwater Catchment Building Continues

One of our ongoing projects has been to create a fresh, ongoing supply of water to the wildlife guzzlers. Recall, we built a small overhang over the guzzlers to catch more rainwater than if they were left out on their own with their beveled tops. The overhang also acts as shade to decrease evaporation from the unit. Some years, the water captured lasts the entire year. During droughts, the water has run out by late August. To prevent running out, but to also inflow more fresh water, we are building a larger rainwater catchment up hill to gravity feed into the guzzler. The tank is 1500 gallons and will be under a metal building to protect it from sun exposure and heat gain. David has been working on it and will likely be done a week from this post. I am very excited to keep water flowing throughout the hot months. The guzzler has become a very busy place with ground and song birds, raccoons and one feisty feral cat. Thank you to the Natural Resources Conservation Service (NRCS) EQUIP program, US Fish and Wildlife Partners Program and Point Blue Roots Program for believing in this work and supporting it.

Ranch poodle Pongie plays on the supplies

Fire Danger Ever Present

Living in the new norm of ever present fire danger feels unsettling. When I was a child growing up in the Sierras, fires were part of life, but rarely major conflagrations. There was more water then and less people. I never worried, and I don’t recall my parents worrying the way I do now.

This year and last, we had a nice, steady stream of rain events that kept the soil moist longer into the summer. This year, in fact, David and I both noticed that all the oaks look healthy and happy. Their leaves have stayed on and are a vibrant green. Fresh, well-formed acorns are setting now. July has been much cooler, and that has helped the mature trees too.

Even with these positive signs, I still cross my fingers that a major fire will not rip through the land. Through my work in natural resources, I can see the massive investments by the state in fuels reduction and stewardship. Communities are working hard, year-round to be better care-takers of the land. The problems of over 100 years of fire suppression, population growth in wildland areas, more efficient ag tech to suck water from the land and climate change shifting temps into record levels are all massive issues to overcome. The pace and scale needs to be even greater – and as importantly, if we do not tackle the root causes, we will be constantly fighting an uphill battle. Stewardship, care for the land, being in good relation is not work; it is life. It is an ongoing relationship where a thoughtful existence results in abundance and health in an environment where we can all live – nature relatives, humans – and thrive.

Relationships

My hubby and I at the Sierra Foothill Conservancy dinner

We need each other.

As the monarch needs the milkweed, and the milkweed needs the soil, and the soil needs the rain, we rely on systems that work together so that we may live.

Recently, I was hit by a car. I was riding a rental bike, like I’ve done for years in nearly every city to which I travel, and a distracted motorist saw me too late, hit the breaks, but still made impact with the bike sending me into the gutter of the road. I don’t remember from impact to lifting my head up from the ground, but as I lifted my head, the breath knocked out of me, the sting of air making contact with my insides, the smell of blood, I was in disbelief. How could this happen to me? I am so careful.

To walk across a street, to ride a bike with traffic, to drive through an intersection, these are all acts of trust, a dependency on others, a relationship where you rely on others to understand the gravity of responsibility and a determination that laws will be followed. Sometimes our relationships break down, rules not followed, predictable patterns altered, one side exploits the other taking more than is given – the balance that makes life possible can begin to shift.

While there is beauty across the ranch, nectar in all colors, shapes and sizes, there are not many insects using them, particularly butterflies. There were mostly cabbage butterflies this year nectaring on the wildflowers. I saw two yellow swallowtails. David saw one orange butterfly (He couldn’t identify it, though I hoped it was a monarch.). And, just the other day, I saw a checkerspot. Not much of a list compared to years past – especially when there is so much nectar around. Last year, I understand; we were decimated by grasshoppers. There was nothing – but this year – there is so much.

The following photos were taken largely in late April and early May when the grass was still green – and when I still had full use of my legs and hands. At this time, late May, the hillsides are yellow from young grass turned to hay and the water ways have shrunken and drainages dried. I am healing, but poor David is having to do my work and his.

Oaks Surviving

Most of the planted oaks are surviving. We lost two of the 19 seedlings. The areas with acorn plantings – none of them came up. The acorns were all taken. However, there has been a blockbuster of natural recruitment (oaks emerging naturally from acorn). While weed eating, David found one hundred emerged oaks around one of the grandmother blue oak trees. We have looked at other nearby oaks and found more seedlings. Evidently, there is the right combination of moisture, acorn and soil conditions to allow for massive propagation. Don’t get too excited. Most of those babes will get eaten. With vigor, David flagged the seedlings so he could keep an eye on them and continue to pull grass as new shoots grew, but he quickly saw that these seedlings were also delicious meals for gophers. We are going to try to cage some of them and water them – especially outside of the enclosure where the cattle graze.

No Monarchs – Again. But, Bumbles Return

Sadly, the California Milkweed has remained pristine, no telltale bite marks, yellow stain or caterpillar poop. The north facing plants are still blooming with just a few beginning to set seed pods. The south facing plants, reliable hosts for traveling monarchs, are fully spent and well into setting seed pods. The only reason my spirit is not completely crushed is that the crotch bumble bees still reigned supreme on the hill in the milkweed plots. I even saw some down the hill near the cow clover. They seem to be increasing in number slightly.

With the survival of my old white sage plant from the grasshopper incursion, its blooms have brought back a myriad of bumble bees and small pollinating flies. The onions are blooming as well and have encouraged micro pollinators into the yard. I love seeing those very small, hard-working insects. More lady beetles have been around, but not in numbers I’ve seen before. Of course, house flies seem to be abundant every year, and this year is no exception.

With the second lowest count of monarch adults since the history of the overwintering count, I perhaps should not have hoped for a visit. This would be the second time in a row monarchs have bypassed the ranch. I understood skipping us last fall on their way back. Truthfully, I didn’t want to be here. All the stripped and murdered plants, grasshoppers shifting around like flakes in a snow globe, it was all too sad. But, I stayed. I had saved one large narrowleaf milkweed with a screen box my husband made. I kept watch on that plant for the entire summer to make sure it was still available should the monarchs stop back on their way to overwinter. Like a child at Christmas, I waited for an orange, black and white Santa to come, gifting their eggs to hatch and a sense of fulfilled purpose and hope. But, Monarch Santa never came, and I questioned my work. How could I do better? How can I make the habitat more resilient?

Birds and Other Wildlife

The bird songs have been incredible this spring. I finally set up my hammock, and when I have time, lay in it and listen. There are audio devices available now to hang in trees, record and send back to the vendor for a list of birds present based on the songs. Very cool. I want to do that.

Even though I don’t have a value-added product I sell from the ranch, I decided I wanted to become an Audubon Certified ranch. This is a badge that tells consumers that your ranch adheres to a set of protocols that promote more sustainable ranching practices – and certainly promote better habitat for birds. I already follow and perform many of the practices they outline, so I think we will be a good fit. I applied to do this because I want access to more expertise on bird habitat and become a better birder. One of the things I am really excited to work on is improvement of quail habitat. They are so cute. I want them to thrive here.

There has been quite a bit of action around the wildlife guzzlers. Raccoons at both Guzzler 1 and 2, and birds at Guzzler 1. There was even a family of five raccoons that visited. Check out the photos below to see who stopped by.

I also had a wonderful encounter with a hawk. I called to him, and he came. I talked to him as he circled me 8 times. Wow, was he a beauty.

While walking in the grove, I saw a large bird in a tree. I tried to get good photos, but by this time, you know that is not my best skill. After showing them to a friend who knows much more than me, he thought it was a lewis woodpecker. I know we have those, so I believe him!

When David and I went to check on Guzzler 2 and cut up the downed tree across the road, we noticed that there were hundreds of what looked like little baby toads hopping around the Odom Creek riparian area. I had Dave stop the Polaris and keep it parked at the top of the hill, so we didn’t impact (read: squish) this incredible hatchery of hundreds of amphibians. We had to haul all the equipment by hand across the creek and up the other side, deal with the tree, then move on to the Guzzler 2 to troubleshoot the camera and weed around the guzzler. Fortunately, David is incredibly strong. He hauled all the chainsaw equipment, and I, with my bum leg and bum right hand, carefully carried the bag of game cam equipment.

Lots of beauty all around us.

Land Stewardship

Work on the land is never done. Type A folks and list makers, don’t feel panic. Feel joy. Ours is an ongoing relationship of commitment and love. What a sense of accomplishment you feel when you see the land around you look healthier, smell wonderful, and host so much more wildlife. You did that; you are fulfilling your responsibilities as a species with your particular brain, hands, food needs and knowledge. Chiokoe uttesia weweria. Thank you relative.

It has been difficult to fulfill these responsibilities for me as of late due to the accident. But, prior to that, there was considerable weed pulling and whacking, monitoring milkweed, watering the planted oaks, and watering native plants to give them a good start.

Wanderings

You just keep moving. There is always so much to do, so much to accomplish and commitments to fulfill. There can be little time to reflect on the “what wases” and “what could have beens”. Walking is where I reflect, and that has temporarily been taken from me. Sitting in my hammock, my bum hand, ankles and leg in sight, unable to perform some of the simplest of tasks, learning to use my left hand for more than is typical, my emotions stir. They shift, float round and round, then settle in to a simmer. What emerges is the knowledge, clearer than ever, that we are all part of one larger whole. In Indigenous circles, we talk about “All one nation.” or “All one people.” How many times I’ve used that statement believing it from a scientific point of view, not the philosophical or the practical. Sitting, as I was, not useless, not helpless, but more in need – not as useful as I’d like, the thought of how much help I have already needed and would continue to need was acid simmering, a dull pain then realization – “all one people”.

I thought about the man that hit me, the man that helped me, the first responders, the unconcerned officers, the hotel staff most of whom were kind, our friends that came to the rescue (Carol, Sean and Ernest, then Josh to check my wounds), my boss Nancy whose compassion and understanding is simply inspiring – and blindingly effervescent, my husband’s love for me. How remarkable a life is it to see such consideration and care. It is not that I think I don’t deserve the kindness of others; it is simply uncomfortable for me to cause any imposition. I know everyone has challenges they are dealing with, and I don’t want to be one more weight. But, how I cried at the love shown to me and to David. How I sobbed feeling David’s arm reach around me to provide support when my leg didn’t want to work, and the care with which he changes my bandages, ignoring the blood, goo and scabs as he navigates the myriad of bruises to delicately place a clean pad with antimicrobial cream over the broken skin he has always loved to touch. We are all one people not just in DNA ways, but in the need we have for one another – not just to receive care, but to provide it.

My accident could very easily have resulted in a worse outcome, as the left temporal lobe area of the helmet, scraped and cracked, would indicate. So, the bandage changes, the leg support, the running around watering oak trees, pulling weeds, planting plants – they are all a joy for him because it could have been so different, something that is too dark to think of, but close enough to see the shadows of what could have been.

As with everything in my life, I see it as a metaphor or a parallel with the life of the monarchs. There are so many who care. They see the changes, the damage, the need for help, and they jump in, an ocean of people whose relationship with this beautiful insect leaves a trail of life in the form of habitat, improved policy, and human relationships that bring joy. We all need each other because we are all one living organism – all of us – monarchs, bees, dogs and trees. We are all relations. We see the shadows too dark to contemplate, and thankfully, some refuse to imagine a life without monarchs – and so we work, together, caring for one another, healing and hopefully, leaving what is broken more intact, enough to support millions of butterflies, and every life, once again.

I started this blog post with a photo of David and I. This relationship is my skeleton, my skin, my connective tissue, supporting everything I do. The center of my story, however, is the land – in bwia ania, my land universe. It is my heart, one of my deepest relationships. This beautiful planet, with all its environs, is the reason we are all here. It gives us food, air and water. Let’s be a good relation, in good relation, with her and one another.

Sunrise after a storm at Tawim Bwiapo (Place of the Hawks)

Miracle

It is probably overstated about “miracles happening every day” – a bird making a nest, the bloom of a flower, someone loving you unconditionally, bridges holding millions of tons and planes staying in the air – all seem like miracles. Something I’ve not seen is an oak seedling come back from the devastation of plague level grasshoppers stripping everything, even the bark, from the plant… but now I have. The very first oak seedling I planted last year, shockingly, has re-sprouted leaves.

When I went around to reuse the baskets I had painstakingly planted in winter 2023-24, I carefully examined each little seedling hoping against the odds that there were survivors. They never got to grow much. Their inner layers had been exposed, stripped bare of anything that looked like a plant. In addition, the summer was long and with brutal heat.

Like a careful pediatrician, I would gently bend their tiny branches to see if there was any moisture and life remaining. All of their little limbs broke off. I would gently tug their trunk to see if there was any give. Sadly, most of them pulled right out of the ground, gone from the strain. There were a few that refused to give, and I left them there. This year, in those baskets, instead of placing a new seedling, I lightly covered an acorn. I thought, maybe they needed a friend to share the energy for one life. When I got to the seedling I planted at the base of my beloved now dead oak, I saw what looked like a couple green and red buds on the trunk. I took my glasses off and wiped them thinking maybe I had some gunk on them. I put them back on, looked closer, almost putting my face up against the basket. Oh my goodness, YES!! Resiliency!! She was alive and producing some leaves. A miracle for sure!

I have also been monitoring the other oaks closely. So far, they all appear to be doing well. They all have leaves. The baskets where I only placed acorn have not sprouted anything. One site, it was clear that the acorn was taken. I replaced that one acorn with two, and will hope one of them makes it to germination.

David and I have finally got all of the oaks caged. When the cows return from the south end of the ranch, the oaks are now protected. I had planted them well before the caging was done, and some of them had been stepped on or bent from hungry cow heads exploring their ability to access the tasty acorn and tree. The trees are small enough that the tallness of the basket protected them. That said, I needed to do a bit of reshaping before caging the area around the plant. We followed a new protocol for caging that Alex Palmerlee, an oak expert in Butte County follows. We used much stiffer cow panel fencing at at length of 8′ and a height of 50″ secured to two t-posts. Previously, we used no-climb fencing at a thinner gauge with a much larger diameter. The thinness required three t-posts to secure. I think this new method will require less resources and be more resistant to pushing in from the cows, thus OK to have a shorter diameter. Thank you to my long-suffering husband for doing the major share of the caging work. After I maintained the oak planting site by weeding, re-situating coir pads and “fluffing” the baskets back to their original shape, David would follow with the caging. I had already set out the t-posts for him, and he brought the panels. We make a pretty good team.

Straightening oak basket from cow step-on

The weather is beginning to warm. There is still water running in all the creeks and drainage’s. The soil is still moist. However, soon I will need to follow a watering regime to ensure oak the survival of these babies. Fortunately, I have not see any grasshopper nymphs like last year. Crossing my fingers that hoppers will not be a problem and that these trees will have time to become established.

CA Milkweed Shockers

Monitoring the Ca Milkweed patches is a good workout. Walking up the super steep grade ensures my legs and heart are getting the blood and movement they need. So, I was not sure if it was the workout or that when I got near the top of the hill a milkweed was missing, that was the cause of my heart was racing over 100 beats per minute. I was panicked. After seeing the pile of loose dirt mounded up where my gorgeous mature milkweed always is, I began looking for all the other ones. Visions of gopher mounds clouded my mind as I frantically ran from one location to the next. Most of the others were intact. Another small one was missing, but another one popped up on the other side of the patch. For the mature, large milkweed, I think the gophers had been gnawing on it for a while. That is probably why it was so small this year. Then poof — gone.

Something else remarkable has happened this year. The CA Milkweed on the north facing slope has emerged only 10 days after the south facing slope. For the past several years, there has been between 3 weeks to 1.5 months between emergence’s. I counted five on the north facing slope and only seven on the south facing slope. As I look for them, I weed around them. The grass is a lot of rye this year, and it is really tight against the milkweed. Hopefully, giving them some space will help and enable to monarchs to feel their eggs will be more protected. Perhaps it will not be a big year for milkweed, and we will need both sides available for the monarchs.

I installed a game camera up on the south facing slope looking at (now) one milkweed. I am hopeful to catch a monarch landing on the milkweed. I installed it over the last weekend, and went up the next day to check the card to make sure it was capturing images and pointed in the right direction. It somehow got shifted and was only catching a piece of the milkweed on the very left side of the frame. I fixed that. Hope it stays.

While up there on Sunday 4/6, I was treated to some amazing things. First, the scent of the cow clover and all the vetch. Second, two or three large crotch bumble bees buzzed me and then went about their business nectaring. They let me know who is in charge. Finally, a gorgeous, large harrier was floating across the surface of the ranch looking for dinner. Just incredible. Currently, only a few of the Calif Milkweed blooms have emerged from they duff protection. As more get released, they will add to the extraordinary perfume, a siren song, to all pollinators.

Wildflowers at Massive Scale

Wildflowers never disappoint. They are up and at a massive scale. The air is thick with nectar, especially when you walk through a cow clover patch. So sweet! With the flowers come the insect relatives. I love them so much.

Time

Each day, I try to make it to the top of the hill to check the Ca milkweeds. The girls are aging and sometimes stay at the bottom of the hill. They are my joy. Along the way, I straighten baskets, fix twisted screens, weed around milkweeds, and pick up trash, like Mylar balloons. There is always something to do here that can help. When I eventually sit down to write this blog and share the things I have seen, done or learned, it takes time. I started this post over a week ago, and the land has changed significantly since then. Water has soaked into the ground leaving puddles behind. Some flowers have finished their bloom and others emerged to replace them. Small pollinators are out in droves, and were not out just a week ago. Even in the photos, you can see my clothing move from jackets, to sweaters to tank tops. I will try to move these out more quickly, and perhaps it will help me make these posts shorter and more current. Do I say that each time? We began this blog discussing miracles.

It is a goal anyway.

Water | Oaks | Tornado Warning!

I ate two bars of chocolate for breakfast, and I was lit. No one said I was perfect – eggs, oatmeal, too hard for me to think about preparing that day, and I succumbed to the ease of – go to the fridge, grab a bar, open a wrapper, and eat. Then, again. Not proud, but true.

Lately, the intense investment of time, energy, thought and emotion over the last 12 months are catching up with me. My dad is improving; though there are still back-slides, he can do more for himself. As a result, I collapse into a heap of less usefulness and find myself tired all the time, getting out of routine, or filling those moments of routine with non-dad items long ago neglected.

This transition period is messy. Some days my brain is so out of sync I cannot put two words together thoughtfully. My diet of chocolate, peanuts and jam and, if I had some energy earlier in the week, basic salad, is not the finest to promote optimal brain function. Some days my husband will take pity on me and make me a smoothy, or an egg. This day, I am up earliest and on my own. Chocolate it is. Caffeine and I do not mix. I know this. I am hungry, lazy and just love the taste. Jitters take hold, and my plan to plant more oaks just got an accelerant.

Oak Planting Nearly Done

I planted all of the oak seedlings except one, planted all of the riparian oak acorns, and planted half of the elder oak acorn. The rest of the elder oak acorn I saved for acorn flour. I checked the plantings done earlier in the month and February. The cows got their snouts through the fencing on one and pulled the coconut coir. I put it back. Some of the flags were askew. I straightened them. I placed flags on others. I weeded away from new growth in the already enclosed plantings. Maintenance is important to ensure better outcomes.

Lots of worms in the dirt. This was the only larval one

Red are oak seedlings. Blue dots are acorn plantings

After one of the storms, I saw one of the seedlings I planted had its basin filled with standing water. Too much water, and oak roots can rot. One of the challenges of selecting a site is that I am considering access to water over the long term. As such, I have been planting near the creek or near a spring flow. One of the upstream oaks on Spring Creek is planted in a flow. It is west facing with other oak shade. The soil is predominantly clay. Excellent conditions for water accumulation.

I lifted the coir pad, stuck my finger in the mud and created a channel to allow the standing water to flow out of the small basin I try to place around each planting. It mostly worked to alleviate the stand. Water is everywhere, and that section, because of the flow, is already saturated. However, I was able to get the water down low enough so it was not submerging part of the trunk. The weather will be dry this week, and I anticipate the remaining standing water will be gone within 24 hours. I will go back and recreate the basin wall for the next rain event.

While out checking the oaks and maintaining their planted areas, I was quickly caught up in a storm. The wind was ferocious, bending the oak marking flags to almost 90 degrees. Fortunately, I was in my final section, which happened to be nearest the house. The rain started to pour. While I had a jacket on, I was wearing shorts (I know. I’m crazy). The wind whipped at my exposed legs, and then it started to pour. I typically traverse the ranch on foot to limit soil impacts from the quad or truck. I finished with the oak I was working on and bolted up the hill, through the gate, around to the front of the house, sloshing in mud (I had my muck boots on), mud splattering across my legs. Finally, I got to the front door – a soaked, muddy mess. Although I was almost denied entry to the house by my family, it was ok. I love this life.

Checking New Log Check Dam

I was excited to see that the new, poorly connected log check dam was still in place after one of the storms. It was doing its job, pooling water behind it, slowing the runoff just enough to really soak the soil. Then, the large storm came with 2.25″ of rainfall. I checked the dam again. It was not there. The rocks I put in place to help the log were still there acting as a smaller check dam and pooling some water. I walked down stream and found the log. It was caught up in a tangle of branches, leaves and gunk about 60 feet downstream. Not to be deterred, I pulled it out from the makeshift dam and began to pull it toward its original location. The cedar log, typically lightweight, was heavy with absorbed water. David, who was walking with me then, took pity on me and picked up the log with the flick of his wrist, to show off, and returned it to its place. We will need to secure it much better in the coming days.

Gates Shut. North Field Belongs to the Milkweed Now

One of the best investments I’ve made in the last couple years is the cross fence to protect the California Milkweed. It is a critical, early emerging plant essential for post-overwintering monarch survival. Three of the four communities of plants are protected by this fence. In addition to protection of the California Milkweed, excluding the cattle during prime wildflower season has resulted in 40 acres filled with wildflowers of all types, sizes and colors. This means I have unbelievable amounts of nectar without having to plant another plant across a huge swath of land. Not only are the colors dazzling, the smell hangs in the air. It is like drinking perfume.

I think because of the weather whiplash, the California Milkweed is stunted. They are not their normal size for this time of year and are already producing flowers that will bloom in about a week. As of 3/20/2025, there are only four of the possible 21 emerged. Given that this past overwintering count of monarchs has been the second lowest on record, perhaps there will be fewer butterflies floating this way, and the stunted plants will be sufficient. I have not had an opportunity to place a camera up on the hill. The last time I tried, there was no signal for my special game cameras. I think I will use it in analog mode and grab the photos off later. This way, there is something up there as soon as possible.

While I am on the hill checking each milkweed and looking for more emerging, I decide to take a break and sit, contemplate things. Out of nowhere comes Taawe (Hawk). They decide to come for a visit, flying close and low. Taawe is close enough to hear me, so I speak in my language. It’s an original language of this continent, co-evolved with the many relatives from this soil. We’ve all shifted around following a cycle of movement south to north, west to east, and back again. Taawe understands me; it circles, flits, plays with elevation, but always above me. It circles away. I call to it. Taawe circles back. We play this game for a few circles, then I lay back down on the cool grass, the smell of soil and moisture in my nose. It flies to the east, and I say “Chiokoe uttesia in weweria. Ito te vitne.” “Thank you my relative. See you soon.”

Guzzler Install Complete

It took David nearly six days over two and a half weeks, but the guzzler is finally complete. We still need to build a fence around it to exclude the cows and build out the tank portion of the system to feed more clean water to the unit over time. Currently, there are stock panels attached to the overhang structure to keep the cow away from it as best as possible. Panels are ok since the gaps in them are large enough for most animals to move through. They are too small though for larger animals like deer. It is a priority for me to complete that fence to maximize its utility. The storms have filled the unit, and it is ready for wildlife to drink from. THANK YOU David!!

Dangers Realized

Although I have relaxed more with the fencing in place, catastrophes can still happen. Three times now I have gone outside to find cows where they shouldn’t be. Once, they jostled the gate open to the far north field. They jostled the gate open to guzzler 1, and yesterday I found them in the Spring Creek exclusion area. The wire gate had been squished down. In all cases, my heart sunk with concern that all I worked for could be lost in one accident with a poorly structured gate lock. Things were ok with the far north field. The Ca Milkweed was fine, and not too many of the blooms were up to be eaten. Guzzler one sustained significant damage. The solar panel connected to the game camera was severed. The wire had been snipped and stomped on. The stainless steel mesh over the gutter was folded up on both ends in tortuous fashion. Fortunately, we have an extra panel with wire and more gutter screen. We can fix that. I have yet to assess the damage to the exclusion area where large lupines, oak seedlings and larkspur are all just getting ready to develop blooms. It would be a catastrophe of large proportion if much of that was destroyed. In all cases, I secured the gate locks with a carabiner (cannot be licked open), twisted wire (cannot be jostled open), and a second loop securing the wire gate.

Cows are not my only problem. The other day when I was assessing the Spring Creek planting areas, I opened the caging of a small oak to thin grass that had grown around it. I was on my knees peacefully pulling the grass away from the oak when I heard a thrash across the creek. It was a single wild pig. She was small, about 250 lbs, and had been laying in a hollow between downed tree limbs. She must have been assessing me for a while. There were at least 15 minutes that transpired as I walked, dogs at my feet, into the area, then to the caged oak, and then the time it took to open the cage and sit there for a while pulling grasses.

I immediately got to my feet and watched her run downstream, then across the creek, under the fence, up and over the hill. I didn’t think much of it until I followed downstream and found upturned soil from pig rooting, hoof marks sliding down the creek banks, a missing seedling from the slide, and then I worried about all the acorn I planted. Could she have rooted them out and eaten them? All that hard work for nothing? Pigs are non-Native and are very destructive. As a lover of all life, I have long pondered what to do about this issue. I hate the idea of killing them, but I may need to seriously consider that. With them in this area as often as they are, I may not ever be able to make headway on habitat. The survival of my Native relatives, monarchs, bumble bees, grasses, oaks and milkweed are paramount to me.

Wildlife and Flowers Abound

In addition to the pig and worms, I have seen interesting bugs, a ground squirrel, lots of various types of song birds and raptors, frogs, a silver bee, and most excitingly a couple swallowtail butterflies. I did not get a photo of them, but they are beautiful. It flew over me when I was lounging in the garden.

Water Everywhere

My neighbor said to me the other day that she has never heard so many frog songs in her entire time owning her ranch, which has been longer than me. They have been loud, joyful and seemingly from every direction. She thought it was due to my work. I don’t know if that is true, but I cannot help feel a sense of happiness that perhaps I contributed at least a little by creating lots of eddies, moist areas and long lasting puddles with the check dams. Thank you Kim for noticing that something was different.

Small rock check dam doing its job. Note the wider size upstream (foreground)

Tornado Warning

Tornadoes have never been a California staple. For all my cognitive years, I’ve not heard of anything like this until the early 2000s when there was a funnel cloud sighting in Livermore. In the last three years, we have had a real tornado in Santa Cruz, a warning in San Francisco, a warning in south Mariposa, one for some other counties in the Valley, and now, on Tuesday, March 17, 2025, two in one afternoon, both in my vicinity. This is not normal.

David looked at the radar and saw the first cell would be well north of us. He said not to worry. I was of course still worried and making a plan in my head – a California girl with no tornado experience except The Wizard of Oz, Day After Tomorrow and some documentaries I watched a million years ago. I remembered that you should take shelter in a room without a window, or a place with the most framing, or possibly in the middle of the house. Who remembered? Like most Californians, we don’t have a basement — and we are on the top of the hill to boot.

I had just started to calm down when I heard my phone beep loudly again. It was another tornado warning. David was home by then and looked at the radar. It appeared that the severe storm cell was going to be headed straight for us. I ordered everyone in the house to shelter in the laundry room, and to bring the cats and dogs. I called my neighbor to encourage her to move from her RV into her home.

The cell reached the house 15 minutes later. The thunder was remarkable, booming so loud overhead and shaking the house. Then, the hail fell, hitting our metal roof like an angry teenager slamming a million doors over and over. In just 10 minutes, the storm had moved on. Light filtered through the clouds once more. Besides the ground being littered with hail stones, several of the long dead oak trees toppled. I found one across the cattle road a day later. Chainsaw work is in my future for sure.

I feel grateful that mother nature is warning us instead of simply squishing us. We have an opportunity to act, to care, to show respect for all living things – to change the course of our life and be in greater balance. “How can I respond even more than I am already doing?” is the question I ask myself regularly. Two tornado warnings in one afternoon? What will it take to wake people up to care? For me, I am going to double down on milkweed, consume less, choose even less packaging, fly less, walk more … and … look into building a basement.

Frog Songs|Blue Oaks Planted|Guzzler Install

Sierra Tree Frog thinking about climbing the sliding door

Every day, I am treated to a symphony orchestra of such precise, crisp quality that I am moved emotionally. Each diverse player is always in-tune, and the music is in stereo. No, I’ve not traveled to San Francisco or Los Angeles. I step out on my front porch to a noisy, bustling world — first the rushing creeks after the rain, then chorus frogs with their undulations in 360 degree splendor. The coyotes cannot be left out. They join from far distances and close, their songs carrying across arroyos and hills. A mourning dove enters the symphonic experience just at the right time, then a muted tink of the rustle as a light breeze moves through the oak branches, playing the leaves like keys of a piano. Like a horn, a screech owl hoots, or a barn owl screeches. California toads croak, then trill. Finally, my own heart plays a role keeping time, threading through this musical soup, a genius blend, warming and nourishing, rich and whole.

Guzzler Project

Construction of Guzzler Two, which is located on the east section of the ranch, has begun. David made a mistake early on in the dimensions. Although he fixed it, we lost half a day putting us behind timeline and up against the recent rain storm. He got the posts sunk and cemented and the headers on, but was not able to get the rest of the joists, roof and gutter on. It was disappointing, since we have a week of rain. However, I have to give us both a break. Life has been challenging. There was no time to start earlier. We have so many projects, medical appointments for dad, work and catch up for work from the last several months as well as other volunteer responsibilities. I remind myself that we just can’t do it all.

I am grateful for the time we can dedicate. At least the guzzler is up, and has a beveled lid that is designed for rainwater catchment. There is a ramp built in, so we will get some water in and have a working unit for animals.

In 2015, the big flood year, the road to the area east of Odom Creek on the ranch was washed out. I would access via foot or ATV. We initially began to stage the materials on the west side of Odom Creek, but David had a feeling he could make it in the truck. I thought this should be a big “no”. Besides the fact that this is a newer truck David uses to commute with, I try to limit motorized vehicles on the ranch simply because their impact on the soil. Everything we have is electric, so I am not concerned about emissions or oil leaks. The weight and act of rolling across the ground over and over has consequences. This is why I stay in my tracks as much as possible when servicing plantings.

Well, when I left to plant oaks, David measured the area, measured the truck, measured the area, measured the truck and decided to go for it. He texted me some photos, and I was shocked. The truck made it. I thought that perhaps making one trip with the truck instead of five with the ATV might be better. I walked the route first trying to make sure there were no frogs or other wildlife, then I allowed myself and/or David to roll through the water and on the bank again. I am trying to do what I can to mitigate damage and hoping the guzzler will make up for any damage we may be causing rolling our vehicles back and forth.

Blue Oaks Continue to be Planted

I have accelerated my work getting seedlings and acorns in the ground. With the challenges of life, I’ve not had enough time to spend. Fortunately, the ground was still soft from prior rains. It was easier to work with. Most seedlings required gopher protection. This means digging 18″ +/- holes in which to place specially designed cages with soft wooden bottoms that are long enough to allow the lengthy oak taproot to grow. The wood bottoms have holes for drainage and root movement. Conceptually, the soft wood bottom will rot in a year or two, opening up more space for the roots to thicken and become resilient.

In all, I planted close to 60 acorn along the creek and in five cages left over from last year. For the seedlings, I planted three along the Spring Creek, three in the new grove near the driveway, and four near the house. I will be planting five more down slope from the house in an effort to repopulate two areas with oak die-offs. Those will take a little more time since I will be creating a trench above and below each seedling to capture more rainwater. This will help increase soil moisture near where the roots can access it. I still have a pile of local oak bark to fill the trenches and absorb more water. The next step for all of the oaks outside the exclusion zone will be to build a fence.

New Log Drop

I created a very informal log drop further down stream on the Spring Creek. Again, the goal is to slow the rushing water from increasingly aggressive storms to try to retain the soil moisture and give the land more of a chance to recharge ground water. I also placed an oak behind the log drop to, hopefully, provide more moisture for the oak to thrive longer in dry conditions. The soil has a lot of clay, which retains moisture. There are groves up and down stream from the oak planting area, so I think the soil can work for these oaks.

Wildflowers are Up

The wildflowers are in full display, with more blooming each day. There are so many colors – blue, purple, orange, white, and of diverse variety. I also saw my first butterflies on March 1 (possibly buckeyes. They were brown) and heard a large bee. Spring is happening whether I am ready or not…I’m not. The air is smelling like nectar. In another few days it will be heavy with the perfume of a million flowers.

Odds and Ends

The joy of living here and caring for the land is immense. There is always so much to see and experience, even 22 years later. I pick up garbage that floats through the creek, blows down the hill or floats in the air. It seems we are always finding mylar balloons. Please don’t purchase them. They are trash and end up at my place. They can kill calves who do not know what they are and eat them.

While planting oaks, I heard a whoosh near my head. Two redtail hawks in their mating ritual, dove and sped back up high near where I was working. It was incredible to see and hear them so close. Getting an early start to the day allows us to see so much wildlife. We saw a huge group of turkeys. They are large and interesting, though they are not native. They eat the eggs of quail, harming their populations. I wish a bobcat would control their population more. People think they are cute and feed them just a few miles down the road, but they are very destructive. I would rather see quail than turkey any day. The lady beetles are out. They are really beautiful. I used to see them incubate in tree bark as a child. We had so much abundance then. The other evening at dusk, as David and I were finishing our work, we saw a great blue heron flying to the east. I hope it stopped at the neighbor’s pond and decided to stay a while. We used to have a mating pair that would return each year. They had their nest in a tall bull pine on the neighbor’s property. It fell one winter. When the couple returned the next year, they did not stay. The male would come back year after year with no mate. What a loss.

Planted an oak I found among my nectar plants

Probably the most exciting thing I have seen in a long time was a golden eagle. It honored me with its presence on February 27. I was looking out the living room windows, which look to the east. I saw a massive bird fly down the hill. It circled the tree near guzzler 1 then flew back over the house. I dropped what I was doing and flew outside. It was about over the house then, so I rushed around the side of the house to get another glimpse. It was massive with long, dark fingered wings and gorgeous white patches underneath. It flew north west, presumably to the Merced River, which is close by.

I screamed. David thought I was crazy. I couldn’t stop telling him about it. My goodness, it was gorgeous. David finally protested after the third retelling, and I said, “Now you know what it feels like when you tell me constant ‘bug in the compiler’ stories about your tech issues.” “Touché.” he said.

We are doing something right when an eagle comes to visit. We work hard to be good stewards and good ancestors. Thank you eagle for letting us know.

This is what it looked like, but it all happened too fast to get a picture.
Photo credit: RaptorResources.org

Another Winterless Year

Like last year, and perhaps one or two others, the winter has been short -maybe two weeks in total. Although we’ve had some cold days and rain storms, less than 3 weeks have had frost, and some of those frost days were only in the arroyos, and spread across the hills. No snow this year or last. When I first moved here in 2003, we reliably had 2 to 4 snow events per year. I am at a fairly low elevation, so when I say “snow events” I mean snow that is 1 to two cm deep or simply snow that does not stick. As a child growing up an hour north, we had snow every year. This is not normal. The years not only are getting warmer, they are staying warmer longer. In fact, we’ve had far too many warm days this “winter” when it should be cold.

Wildflowers that used to come out in March, which itself was slightly early, now come out in February – and even this is shifting fast. I spotted my first wildflower the first week of February. I am terrified of the day that I begin to see them in January.

The second week of February, the short white wildflowers are appearing, with many other buds waiting to open. These are what I call the super nectar flowers. There a typically millions of them, tight and close to the ground, that make the air smell so sweet.

These shifts in bloom time can be devastating. All of us animals depend on cycles when our foods emerge. We cannot have mismatches, when flowers appear too early and bees and butterflies appear at the regular time only to find that their nectar sources have already bloomed and are gone. Or, the weather turns cold again after being warm, signaling the flowers to bloom and trees to leaf, then killing the emerging buds. I have seen this happen before. Both scenarios are destructive. Having diversity among nectar plants is critical, but even with this, it still decreases the available nectar impacting population sizes and potentially health.

Large Storm is Destructive

We did have a good storm the third week of February. It rained 2.25″ in a few hours. This was enough to over run roads, creek banks and surge in a destructive way. Some of the tin panels I use along the fence line to block the openings across the creeks from cattle got disconnected and moved downstream. The force of the water surge on Odom Creek actually tore the bottom wire apart, snipped it right in half, tearing the tin off and floating it downstream. Fortunately, I found all the panels that were torn off. David and I will reattach them. They need to be in place to prevent the cows from accessing my oak seedlings and other plantings.

Slate Gulch Rd over run, but not washed out

The surge also twisted up vegetation on the fence lines. Sadly, I found the young willow I had been so excited to see. She was ripped out of the ground, roots and all, taken downstream and deposited near the fence line where I found her on her side. I lifted her upright after scratching a pathetic, shallow hole with my foot. I did not have a shovel with me when I went to assess damage, so my foot was all I had. It was not much of a hole since the ground in the creek is rocky and thick. Still, I placed some of her long roots back into the ground, carefully, hoping that they will be resilient and allow her to grow once more. She is a willow after all – strong and prolific.

California Milkweed Emerges!

The California Milkweed has emerged two to three weeks earlier than 2024. I saw the first leaves on Feb 9 this year and noted that last year it was the last week of February.

The cows have been on the hillside with their calves, so I went to check on the plants. I noticed each of the milkweeds had a snip taken out of one leaf; they had been grazed. Most likely, it was a calf testing out the green fuzzy plant. The snips appear to be spit out and located near the plants. Definitely not a tasty meal for anyone except a caterpillar. The plants are growing rapidly, and will be fine. The cows are on the south part of the ranch currently. I will be shutting the gates to the north field in a week before they return, excluding them from the far north field.

Larger 10 days later but snipped from grazing

Grass Nirvana for Cattle

The grass is super lush around the house. Oh, and the cattle are eyeing it every day. Particularly, there is a group of mamas and babies that rotate to the front gate in the afternoon each day to see if I will let them in.

When I have time to watch them, I will let them in for an hour or so to have them help trim the grass without impacting my native plantings. You can see how much they love the verdant blades. They move their heads to the left and right greedily eating without a break. When I can no longer watch them, I usher them out, gently pressuring them to move toward the gate. There are a couple of ladies who never want to leave. They stop to take bites. I have to shift closer. They move, stop again, grab a bite. I move. They move…and so it goes. They snort their disdain, but eventually they kindly acquiesce.

People ask me why I don’t use the dogs to move them out more quickly. The ladies have entered at my invitation. They are helping me, and I respect them. The dogs can be a blunt instrument. I am gentle and precise. We walk out slowly together.

Guzzler Project Moving Forward

With my dad doing better, I have had time to focus on my guzzler projects. The two new tanks were delivered and will feed each guzzler when installed. I had planned to have 1,000 gallon tanks, but the cost was nearly identical to the 1,500 gallon size. It seemed ridiculous not to purchase the larger volume size. With the additional volume, I may also be able to use some of the water for irrigation around the tank area.

In my last post, I mentioned having the second guzzler delivered. With all the main elements here, I am ready to get the materials needed to cover them and link them together. David, my ever patient husband, will be building the overhang structures to cover the tanks and catch the water. The overall concept is for wildlife to have access to clean and abundant water, especially during times of drought. My original guzzler is doing great and a variety of animals have used the water even with the nearby creek still running. We had a good rain year in 2024, so the guzzler stayed filled throughout the summer and fall, but barely. The water really got low and began to get murky. These tanks will allow me to provide ongoing fresh water to wildlife through abundant and lean times.

Odds and Ends

It was a joy to have cold weather and storms, with the most recent one being very large. Water is life, and life is omnipresent and happy when water is around. After the storms, I check my dams to see how they are doing. Everything is holding in place, even my little rock check dam. You see the water, when the creek is running slowly, backing up as intended. I will be placing another dam below that one to slow more water and hopefully spread it out a little to soak the ground and make it more hospitable for oaks.

With water also comes ducks, geese, egrets, herons, mushrooms, mayflies, and green grass. This is such a pretty time of year.

We are generally above the fog line, but every now and then, the fog rolls in. I don’t mind. It keeps the soil moist and the temperatures down. The fog is pretty too.

Sometimes I lay down, listen to the birds, feel the cool ground on my back, smell the air, look at the sky. I did this when I was young, and it was happiness. The key is time – to think, relax, breath and connect. Anyone can do this anywhere, a park, a back yard, a patio with your potted plants.

Joy is possible and necessary even in a time filled with bad news. All we need to do is look around, smell, hear, touch, and especially, feel.

Overalls Back On

It has been a rough ten months months, especially the last few. My father’s illness has become nearly all consuming, now an irregular regular part of my life. For months, my overalls have hung in the guest bathroom, a reminder that I still have other commitments, patiently waiting for me to have time to really dig into work.

Fortunately, at the end of December, life was a little more stable, and I got to slip on my beautiful overalls once again. Ooooo, they felt so good – worn in cotton canvas covering my skin, enveloping me like a human sized garden glove. Those overalls are my absolute favorite piece of clothing.

California Milkweed Seeds Planted

I shuttered with delight as I walked out into the cold air, overalls on, before the sun came up and with all intent to finish planting before the rain began. At a time in the past, one of the biologists told me that there was some evidence that 2 to 3 year old California milkweed seed had higher germination rates. In 2023 and 2024, the seed pods I saved from the ravages of the grasshoppers were intended for planting a year or two or three later. The 2023’s were maintained in a cool, dry, dark place for a nearly 2 years. The 2024’s were were maintained the same, but for just two seasons. I brought them both with me, including my trusty small rake.

I made my way up the steep slope to the California milkweed site to plant seeds. My goal is to expand the number of California Milkweed plants. I want them to spread all the way across the hillside acting as a welcome roadside respite for monarchs, a first or second stop on their great migration. I looked for new spots to plant. Last year, I planted the 2022 California milkweed seeds, and I wanted to avoid those locations. I chose the area of the single plant community near the dead oak. There were many spots near rocks, and along the same belt as the existing plants. I try to emulate what I see in nature hoping it provides a better chance for the seed to establish.

I started out raking the ground open, but quickly decided I needed to get more personal with my work. The gloves came off and the rake set down. It was me and about 300 seeds, many still connected to the fluff they are born with, meant to sail on the wind to spots further from their home. And, further from home they were — about 100 feet. I took off the fluff, made a hole with my finger and planted three to ten seeds per hole – depending on size.

It was so nice to see them after so much time. By this time, they are good friends – family, companions to me inside my home. Every seed is a treasure, embodying the past, present and future all at the same time. We all depend on this seed. When they grow, they will feed bees, flies, beetles, spiders, and yes, monarchs. Those animals will cause their own shift in the ecosystem, ending up causing my and your food to be produced. You cannot avoid being humble in the presence of such importance. All you can do is say, “Chiokoe uttesia weweria. Ne enchi nake.” “Thank you relative. I appreciate you” – and tuck them into the soil that will be their forever home, if we are lucky.

It is a joy to be out on the range in cold weather a light wind blowing. I came without the dogs this day, but I was not alone. The low growl and then pant of the bulls on the ranch, like teenage boys, following the ladies around, trying to get their attention. What entertainment – watching a bull make such a ruckus! The story unfolded down the hill from me. I watched him lower his head and call out. The ladies ignored him and began to slowly walk away. He followed behind them, hoping for some attention. The hill got too steep I think, because he stopped and she kept on going. Oh so sad. The next time I looked up he was standing alone looking up the hill wondering where the ladies went and why they were not totally impressed. Don’t feel bad; they will eventually get together and a new tranche of babies will dot the hillside.

The birds also keep me company. Their songs are beautiful, but they also serve as an alarm for me. I know when they stop singing the weather is about to get bad. I am, after all, racing against the weather to plant these seeds. I want them to be in moist soil so they have what they need to begin to grow when the weather gets warmer and the soil heats. I start to see drops on my leg and on the bags. The drops come and go. It isn’t until the birds stop singing that I decide it is time to go. The rain is coming down steadily. The seed bags are soaked. I didn’t get a chance to plant the 2024s, but all the 2023s are safely tucked in. Mission accomplished. I head back home.

Narrowleaf Milkweed Planted

Since early 2024, I’ve had a 40lb bag of narrowleaf milkweed seeds. My intent was to plant them all last winter. I was was able to get about 1/3rd into the ground, but I ran out of time. With the rains taking a break in late December 2024, I made plans to seed the riparian exclosure areas. It had been some time since I was in the mid-section of the ranch. It was a joy to be out there on the creek. Over two days, rake in hand, I was able to plant the entire stretch of Spring Creek, even beyond the exclosure, and the entire stretch of Odom Creek inside the exclosure. Fun, but I now have a stiff neck!

I changed the type of planting sites to, hopefully, give the seeds different opportunities to establish. The existing milkweed on Odom Creek I have found just off the main area of the water flow, but in the creek bed. I have also seen the showy milkweed I planted thrive up higher on the creek bank. With this observational experience, I chose a variety of locations up and down the stream, closer and further away from the water, uphill and downhill, in disturbed areas and in areas with existing grass growth, next to rocks, away from rocks, in sandy soil, in clay and in loam. I hope something will establish!

I also tried a couple new things in the Spring Creek site. There was an area where the cattle had trampled wet earth, many wet holes, ridges and the like. I used the holes in the disturbed ground as moist areas to plant in, then I raked the area smooth again with the seeds within the soil. We will see…

On my walk up stream, I found a few cowpies in the creek. This is not good. It adds significant organic matter/nutrients into the water, which promotes algae blooms when the temperatures warm, diminishing the water quality. I scraped some earth up the bank, put seed in, covered it lightly, then took the cow pie out of the water and placed it on top of the seeds. I got this idea from a California Association of Resource Conservation District conference session in December. It was a session on oak recruitment on rangeland with Kurt Vaughn and Alex Palmerlee. One of the tools they used in providing nutrients to acorn plantings was a slurry of cowpie and water. The audience could not stifle their amusement as the guys discussed the delight they had in mixing cow poo with water to make a mulch. Definitely gross to some. If it works better, what an abundant resource on ranches.

Acorn Gathered for Tree Planting

While I did not have time to gather acorn for flour making, I did have a chance to gather about 200 for planting across the ranch. I harvested from the grand old oak near the house and the smaller oaks in the Spring Creek riparian area. I am planning to do a combination of seedlings (16), and the rest will be plantings of acorn. I do not want a repeat of last year when the grasshoppers ate all my back-breaking work.

Storms Bring a New Guest

During the December storms, a new guest showed up that I’ve never seen here before. It was a pigeon. The pigeon had bands on its legs, so we knew it belonged to someone. Every time we tried to get close to look at the bands, it would fly away from us. David built it a roosting box and attached it to the underside of the carport. I made it a little bed. It stayed with us a week. At first, it roosted on the truck under the carport. Then, when we were working outside and had the garage open, it decided the garage was better and roosted on the ceiling beams. At dusk, the bird would perch on the gutter outside my office window and stare at me. I would come outside, and it would fly to in front of the garage door. It was saying, “Hey lady! Open the door so I can roost for the night.” It was really neat at first, but then we saw the piles and piles of poop on the vehicles, patio and in the garage. After the bird stayed several days after the storms were over, David felt it was getting too comfortable. He hatched a plan to see if it really wanted to stay or if it was just being a bit slow going back home. The plan was to prevent it from roosting inside to see if it went back to roosting under the carport. The pigeon didn’t stay. It decided to go home – or find another temporary housing situation. We are definitely suckers for animals, so it is probably good it didn’t stay.

Catching Up – So Much More Accomplished

In addition to the seed planting, I have also gotten more plants from Ron Allen at Mariposa Native Plant to install. With the help of David, we set up another game camera. It was super fun to climb a tree. In the end, we decided a fallen tree trunk was the better view. The cell signal is not the best there, so we may yet move it again.

The new guzzler for the back of the ranch also arrived last week. It will help make water available to wildlife when/if the creeks run dry. They have been extremely helpful to wildlife during the late summer and early fall times when water is not as plentiful. We have gotten some fun photos of visitors to the guzzler. My favorite design element is the built in ramp. This way, no one drowns.

As noted in the passage above about narrowleaf planting, an oak branch had fallen on my exclusion fencing. The storm had also knocked down some branches and trees across the neighbor’s section of the cattle road. David and I ended up doing a bit of chainsaw work too.

I worked with a few Tribes and Indigenous led organizations over the last month. I volunteered with the Southern Sierra Miwuk Nation to install plants for their massive restoration work on a village site. In November, members of the Tubatulabal Tribe (Eastern Kern), including Tribal Chairman Robert Gomez came to Catheys Valley to pick up their Xerces Habitat Kits. The kits were generously picked up and stored at a friend’s farm, Raw Roots Farm, so the Tribe did not have to drive so far north to pick them up. The Tribe is undertaking a major restoration effort themselves and wanting to start a farm to feed their people.

Finally, the 108 blue oaks from Butte County acorn arrived for California Open Lands, a nonprofit led by Mechoopda Tribe member Ali Menders-Knight. I had ordered them last year for my restoration efforts, but when a catastrophic fire burned through their lands in Butte County, I knew that those seedlings were for them. The acorn came from grandmother trees in that area, and would now need to head home to heal the land. How serendipitous.

David places a later to help me get into the tree

Tending the Monarch Habitat Plots

Every year, I think I am going to trim grasses early and place coir pads around the monarch plants so that I can find them in spring and not mow over the baskets. I never do. BUT, this year is different. I got to at least one plot already, and I am staged up to do the others. For the plants whose roots run, like milkweed, I will remove the coir pads close to emergence time to allow for more plant material to emerge.

In working in the plots, I am finding that many of the plants are dead. The grasshopper killed them, and my hopes that there may be some vestige of life are dashed. I am seeing some come back, but the majority, so far, are gone.

Using my trimming tool to cut the grass from around the baskets

Weather is Too Warm

It may seem wonderful to some, but the weather is far too warm. After part of December had rain and cold temperatures, the weather shifted to warm days, cold nights and no rain. This is extremely concerning. Things I have never seen are occurring. I found a gopher snake on the patio. It is usually too cold for them to ambulate. Flies are in the house. A marigold, verbena plant and goldenrod are in bloom. They are fall weather flowers. A broad leaf milkweed is still alive. The lupine are already up. I am used to them emerging in February or March. There has been almost no frost on the ground. We need that to kill some bugs, like grasshopper larvae, to maintain balance. I saw an adult grasshopper in December. Terrifying. Life needs to sleep, and the deep cold helps facilitate that. We need winter.

Random

For every hour I spend outside, I am inside two. Not only do I spend hours at my computer writing this blog, I have to work on ag reports for the county, water rights reports for the state. I am so behind in implementing grants I have for water storage and tree planting projects, and I need to get the materials and supplies together for those. David and I went to check on the site of the second guzzler. We had to go through a forest of downed branches to get there, which made me remember I also wanted to plan a prescribed fire in my enclosed areas. There is so much planning, research and writing.

As I always say, I am not complaining. It is an honor to be a land steward and to get to work on this land every day. It is such emotional and sacred work for me that I often write about my feelings, or stories of something that happened. It was a tremendous honor to be asked to write an essay for the new book, Roots and Resilience: California Ranchers in Their Own Words (Nevada Press). I also submitted a piece that was accepted for inclusion in Zine Magazine, a publication of the Women, Food and Agriculture Network. Both are available for sale. For those that love to read, or love stories of nature, these are really wonderful books filled with good stories and creative writing. Full disclosure, I receive no financial benefit from the sale of these books. I am recommending them to you because they truly are good and interesting reads.

Wanderings

My thoughts have turned to Los Angeles County every day – the people, animals, the land, sky and water. David and I have many friends who live in the area, and some are evacuated. My heart breaks for the entire situation.

There have been many messages sent to us by our planet – like the disappearance of the monarch butterfly happening now from our western life, the erasure of towns, cities under water, pandemics, our children being born with lower lung capacity and having diseases at younger ages and at higher rates, such as diabetes, asthma, colorectal cancer. We are not well.

It has long perplexed me why as a species we are so willing to trade the beauty of this land, the health of the water and air we need to live, the songs of birds, animals and insects that bring us joy, and even the very lives of our children for extreme convenience, to preserve the ability to amass wealth and power for a handful of humans. Where is it that the values our grandparents taught us were lost? Why is it we are so willing to be sick? Where did we lose site of the real treasure, of what is truly important?

As I care for my father, and see him struggle to be well, it makes so clear the importance of how one lives life and the joy we find in the most simple things. I was raised in a good way by parents who wanted to be better than their parents, who themselves wanted to be better than their parents. I am grateful for their teachings and those of my grandfather. Low consumption, care for all things, no waste, fight for what is right, simple is ok, you don’t have to be conventional, dancing is joy and many others.

Let’s each of us do our part to help all of our relatives – the two legged, the winged, the ones with fins, the four-legged, everyone. They need us; we need them. We all need one another.

Endless Summer

A rare day in September when the clouds came and temperatures went down, but otherwise, hot and dry

It is October 24th, and we are still seeing 80 F + days. My body is tired of being warm. Surprisingly, there is still water in the seep and in the spring creek, but their reach is far less than just four weeks ago.

With the exception of the temperature, autumn is all around us. The ground is littered with leaves, webs float through the air only to get tangled among the grass, and tarantulas are out looking for mates. Sadly, the grasshoppers ate much of the tarweed on the west side of the ranch. Consequently, the air is not heavy with their perfume, one of my favorites.

Sunrise is moving well-south on the horizon

When the temperatures cooled, more animals and insects came out or at least appeared more active. I hear coyotes singing much more since the nights cooled. More raptors in the air, more bees and of course, the spiders. David and I installed a game camera on the wildlife guzzler overhang to see who was using it for water, and a large hare climbed up the wood pile and down the ramp to take a sip. That was exciting.

There is also considerable activity on the milkweed plants. I have looked at them daily for signs of monarchs, but there has been nothing. It has been too hot, and now the window is closing. The plants are winding down, and seed pods are opening. I did see a remarkable sight however. It was lacewing eggs. The lacewings love aphids, of which there are many on milkweed. They lay their eggs perpendicular to the stem of the milkweed and place the egg on the very tip. A special shout out to friend and bug knowledge bearer extraordinaire, Sean Werle. He helps identify the many things I do not know.

The other day, I was washing dishes and looked out the window to the east. I saw some large black specks on the side of the hill. I thought, “Oh, that’s where the cows are now.” As I looked, I saw them move much more agilely than a cow. Then, the shape was wrong as they made their way further up the hillside. I ran to get my binoculars and confirmed what I thought; it was wild hogs. There were several adults that had to be 400lbs and a lot of babies. My neighbor saw them too, and they counted 20 in the unit. They had been down in the spring creek ravine. I wondered what havoc they were engaged in. After they were well-over the ridge, I walked to the creek and found the entire lower half of it rooted out. All the vegetation was gone and the soil turned up. Where it was dry just the other day, was now wet with the removal of the plants and grasses. On the bright side, there is more space for animals to find water along the creek. On the down side, how can I ever expect to re-vegetate that space with oak saplings and milkweed if the pigs can come in and destroy all vegetation in an hour or less?

Wanderings

Oh the heat. Each year, it seems to get worse on some level. I feel so bad for the nature relatives that depend on us to use our sense in maintaining this beautiful world. I cannot tell if this year is more miserable than the one before. With the grasshopper incursion and my father’s illness, everyday is just something to move through – not much time for soaking up the joy of stewardship.

Although there is a great deal on my to do list, my priority is my family. Dad has been in the hospital twice since I last wrote and the list of medications, doctors, support staff and paperwork grows exponentially. I only have time for the ranch “must dos” and not the “wish list”. With good medicine, a will to survive and a little luck, Dad may get more stable, and a predictable schedule will be established. Until then, I will look longingly across the ranch and at photos of times past wishing for the best of health for all of us – monarchs and mammals, dads and daughters – all of us.

100th Post

It’s early Sunday morning. The sun is not up. I’ve been up doing chores, feeding animals, opening windows to allow the cool air, laden with scent, into the house. It is barely light, getting lighter. The birds start to sing. First one chirp, which leads to two then it all begins. I step into my boots, dogs at my heels and head out – pulled, then lightly pushed by the cool air now gently swirling in the house.

The ground is soaked from the dew. My boots collect the moisture along with leaves and purple pedals from the thousands of small flowers, close to the earth, lining my path. I check the milkweeds. They are stretched into the air bolstered by days of sun as they break through the invasive grasses that block the light. I examine the space to see if more are there. They are, and I breath, grateful for the resilience of these plants.

Heading down the hill with the symphony of birdsong the nectar of those thousands of flowers hits me. The grass nut flowers, tall with trumpeted light purple petals in a starburst formation cover the hillside. Among them are hints of dark purple, tall and narrow larkspur. Yellow Mariposa lilies are beginning to dot the hillside – more than I’ve ever seen here. The popcorn flower has nearly abated making room for more purples, filaree and small lupine – the large ones almost ready to burst.

As I get closer to the drainage, the temperature turns cooler, a function of the cold water that soaks the earth and continues to trickle. Walking along the drainage there is more larkspur, orange fiddle neck and now some new yellow seep monkey flower. The birdsong is penetrated by the flap of wings. A single bird flies overhead. Even though it is small, it is quiet enough to hear the displacement of the air with each flap. This is why the morning is magic.

I cross the swale pond and walk into the grove. The bullfrogs floating on the water surface dive beneath the murk, and those on the banks give a chirp as they jump into the water. The nectar scent is replaced by the sweet smell of wet bark and earthen musk. With every step, I stir up more smells of wet soil. The oaks are green, and full of leaves, which I hope portends of a mass of yummy acorn in the Fall. They look happy as I examine the check dams. The soil is still moist in the drainage fork. Good. The water is still running in the spring creek with some nice deep holes. Good. I note invasive thistle growing in my mini wetland and make a mental note to bring the weed eater down there later. With my mother-in-law, I planted milkweed seed. I am hoping to make this new sedimented area more diverse, not just a thicket of Italian thistle. Thistle is nectar rich, and the pollinators love it. There thousands of stalks allover the ranch. Taking out this little section will not impact nectar availability. I hope to get a glimpse of the quail I saw the other day, but I don’t. It is too early for some.

I exit the grove to check the open section of the spring creek. My boots are wet up to mid calf. Despite the work of the cows, the grass has grown taller with last week’s rain. The first section of creek is still running, filled with grass and small, open stands of water. More seep monkey flowers emerge. About halfway down the open section of creek the water stops. I hear the last drips into a small pool just downstream of my old, small, rock check dam. The flow is underground now. It leaves a creek bed of moist soil the rest of the way to my property line.

As I veer back to the trail, turning west now on the open grassland, the sun is up over the east mountains and hits my back. The warmth is a familiar hand across my back comforting me as I walk. I notice the humidity now, so thick. The full force of nectar is back, clinging to the water molecules in the air, which fill my lungs. I think of all those molecules that comprise this Spring cocktail of life and know that my body will know what to do with all the constituent elements as my lungs expand and contract. I breath even deeper now, filling myself with this ancient food.

There are still no raptors, ravens or vultures in the sky. This time is for the songbirds to flit and sing with less concern of being a meal or their eggs being a raven’s meal. I link up with the cattle road and make a turn north, fully surrounded by the large expanse of grassland. I hear the unmistakable song of the meadowlark, deeee, de de de deee, then as the sky brightens, coyotes begin to sing. As I get closer to the driveway, there is the distant rumble of cars on the road, which is a quarter mile away. The sun has woken humans up too. I continue the last leg of my walk, Millie by my side and Beatrix taking the short-cut through the grassy hill. I feel grounded and filled. This walk is a ceremony of connection, an acknowledgement that we are all together, living for one another.

Monarchs Are Back with Babies!

There is no more gratifying symbol of the success of the work here than the habitat being used. This is especially true when monarch caterpillars are present. On Monday, 4/22, I walked the steep hillsides to check on the California Milkweed plots. Fortunately, I had friend and biologist extraordinaire Deedee Soto at the ranch visiting. It was warm that day, even at the end of the day, so we sweated as we made our way up. The first plot, all the plants looked healthy, but there was no evidence of monarch use. We made our way down hill, crossed the drainage, still spongy with water, and then started our ascent. Again, this is a steep slope. Deedee and I walked slowly, taking breaks. Mille and Beatrix were with us, but about halfway up, I turned to say something and did not see Beatrix. Where was she? Evidently, she gave up, went back down to the spongy drainage and laid in the coolness of the grass and soil spectating our ascent. I rolled my eyes, slightly jealous, and the rest of us continued upward.

At the plot, our efforts were rewarded. Six of the 13 plants had caterpillars. I screamed with joy to Deedee. It just came out. Fortunately, she understands and doesn’t think me strange to be so excited about this tiny yellow, black and white creature. Because of Deedee’s high skill, and youthful eyes, we counted 28 caterpillars of varying ages, from the first instar to the third. Caterpillars go through five caterpillar stages, with #5 being the largest, before they transform to chrysalises. Twenty-eight is a great start! There could be more though. Caterpillars are very crafty, having the super power to hide in plain site. Two other plants had evidence of monarch use, but we could not find any caterpillars. I whoo hooed from the hilltop. The monarch mamas had found this patch of California Milkweed a hospitable home once again, trusting this place with their future.

All Oaks Planted

If you are a regular reader of this blog, you may remember that my neighbors, Ric and Kim, are extremely generous, allowing me to use their electric Polaris for my habitat restoration work. Those vehicles are extremely expensive, and we are so grateful for this kindness. It makes life much easier. I was reminded of this last week when Ric had his vehicle back with him for some work, and I was still engaged in blue oak planting. Undeterred, I regressed to using my cart and hand dragging around my tools and plants to continue planting. I got three more blue oaks planted, but goodness, I was sweating.

The good news is that two of the earlier oaks are thriving, and the seedlings I’ve been protecting in the Spring Creek area for 15 years are finally appreciably growing.

Wildflowers and Wildlife

Beautiful small frog on willow root thatch

Fire Keeping

Nellie, the previous Pollinator Program Coordinator for the Southern Sierra Miwuk Nation, attended a traditional cultural gathering the other weekend and educated participants on pollinator plants. She gave the group a packet of milkweed seeds with tobacco and sage as part of the mix. Nellie said that when we planted the seeds we would be making an offering at the same time. I nearly cried I was so proud. I agree. Planting is a sacred act; it is bringing us closer to fulfilling our responsibilities as stewards of where we live and connecting us to place in a way that is intimate. She is keeping the fire of knowledge of traditional practices, values and connection and sharing those with others who are continuing on their road back to a reciprocal relationship with all our relations.

Five Years and Three Months

It has been five years and three months since I read the New York Times article about the plummeted numbers of monarch butterflies. It made me sad and angry that monarchs could very well be lost in my lifetime. I did not want to imagine a west without this beautiful and important native animal. I still remember that day in January when I read that article. I thought, “Ok, I am not willing to let that happen without a fight. What can I do about this?” So, I got to work learning as much as I could about monarchs, their migration, lifecycle, what they needed to survive. I learned who the key organizations were leading the charge and that there, gratefully, was a significant focus on this issue. I knew I had seen monarchs before, but it made me consider how long it had been since I’d seen any at the ranch, or even in town. I went back through photos. It had not been for ten years – not since before the 5-year drought.

The first people I reached out to were the Southern Sierra Miwuk tribal elders. I asked them about the monarchs and the western slope of Mariposa County and what they knew of the populations, plants and timing. I then reached out to some older ranchers to gauge how often they had seen monarchs and what they remembered from their grandparent’s stories. It was clear. The elders shared about times of abundance, with fields of butterflies, including monarchs, all over the milkweeds that particularly grew in the riparian and marshy areas. There were more flowers then and more milkweed to support hungry caterpillars and butterflies. The ranchers told me of less abundance – of having seen them as children, but not as many now. With this information, I knew this area had supported flocks of butterflies, and that it could possibly be that way again – at least Taawe Bwia, my ranch, could be an oasis.

To get plants, I reached out to Mariposa Native Plants (Ron Allen and Bev Andalora). I knew them in the community, and Ron had already been gaining a reputation as a “milkweed whisperer”. From the information I gained online, to Ron and Bev’s knowledge, we created milkweed plots. I started with two diversified plots, and both were ravaged by gophers. I started over, placing the plants in mesh baskets instead of chicken wire cages. That worked, but it was expensive. While I was committed to the project, I could never have scaled it as big as I have without the Mariposa County Resource Conservation District (Melinda Barrett). She was a wealth of knowledge, and I changed the composition and structure of the milkweed plots to “pollinator islands” based on her guidance. She was able to help because there was significant funding from the Wildlife Conservation Board, and the California Association of Resource Conservation Districts, as the intermediary administrator.

I was fortunate to have the thought partnership of Xerces Society partner biologist Deedee Soto, who shares my passion and commitment to conservation work. Truly, without her expertise, I would not have as much success. She is a genius with plants – propagation and ID. At this time, Xerces also began their very useful habitat kits (Thank you to Jessa Kay-Cruz and Angela Laws!). Not only did it provide all the plants needed for a successful pollinator island, it taught people about the plants, bloom timing and diversification. I still have the very first plant list with bloom times. It was such a great resource, and what a great idea.

I received tremendous support from the National Resource Conservation Service (NRCS) John Grimes, Jesse Baum, Prospero, and so many others in the NRCS ecosystem. Farm Advisor Fadzayi Mishari provided input on conservation issues early on in my land stewardship and organized important educational opportunities for the ag community where I was able to learn a great deal.

Point Blue Conservation partner biologist Elena Kromer wrote my first conservation plan. While it took a very long time to get done, she listened carefully to what my concerns were and designed a plan that addressed many of them. This process connected me further into Point Blue, where I was able to join their carbon sequestration and wildlife resources study project and access their Roots grant program (Cati Mong). Also of essential help were the classes and resources from Monarch Joint Venture. They offered the first online class I took that brought me from knowing almost “0” to knowing much more. I was able to take that knowledge and advance it through the Pollinator Partnership Pollinator Stewardship Certification program, where I earned my certification in Summer 2023. Most recently, I was also able to qualify for the California Department of Fish and Wildlife Partners Program with many thanks to biologist Rosie Gonzalez and her colleagues for smoothly navigating me through the process.

Last, but not least, I want to acknowledge my dear family, friends and readers of this blog. My dad, Alan, and dear friend Daniel donated funds early on that helped me purchase more plants and supplies. My mother-in-law Sheila sends me fun butterfly-themed gifts. My brother Vance, and sister Sarah, who actually read this blog early on, encouraged me. My neighbors Ric and Kim who let me borrow their Polaris, and early on Ric helped considerably with fencing labor. My nephew Ashtin and niece Desiree have helped with the branch fence early on. My other mother-in-law, Liz, has helped me work the ranch each visit, planting seeds, digging channels and holes. Dear friends Melanie, Molly and Jen have worked side by side with me to build rock and log check dams. Friends in the community and on social media, readers of this blog who have sent words of encouragement, recommendations, shared knowledge, ignored my typos, and encouraged my writing, you all kept me going especially when I had set-backs. Finally, my beloved spouse, David, who without him nothing is possible. From his emotional support to physical labor, and financial partnership, he has been there for me and this dream of changing the course of monarch survival, to create a place where they can be assured of food and shelter along their epic journey. Chiokoe uttesiavu. Si se enchinakiavu. Thank you. I appreciate you all.

Free T-Shirts?

To commemorate my 100th post, I am having a PolliNative t-shirt giveaway. If you like what we are doing here and want to represent via a beautiful organic cotton shirt with a heartfelt message, here is how:

Make a comment on this blog with no more than three sentences sharing about what you are doing to help our pollinators thrive.
Everyone who submits a comment will be entered into a random drawing for a tee-shirt. They are expensive, so I can only give a handful away.
Comments must be in no later than May 24th.

Thank you, reader, for everything you do to make our planet a healthy place for our children and for all our relations. Si enchi nakiavu (I appreciate you all).