Southern Sierra Miwuk Nation

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.

Everything is Gone

We knew it was going to be a bad year this year when the grasshopper nymphs would bounce up like a solid wave with each step across the fields. There are billions of them, and I am powerless to do anything about it. The time to plan was several months ago, but I didn’t. I didn’t have time or energy to build screen houses and boxes. It is not an insignificant task – so I resigned myself to the possibility that my beautiful pollinator gardens throughout the ranch would be no more. What I did not expect is that they would also consume the oak seedlings that I painstakingly planted across the front of the ranch. That made me crumple inside.

Oldest and strongest oak seedling stripped

David raced to build me a few screen boxes last week. For him, they take about 3 hours each – much too long to build enough to save plants. In the end, he built two – one with plastic screen and one with metal screen. He used what we had for the window screens. Unfortunately, as you can see in the image above, the plastic is not durable. The hoppers can eat through them. We tried to save a sage, a narrowleaf and two other nectar plants. The purple sage nearly died last year. I figured if it was not covered, it might not live through another ravenous incursion. The narrow leaf is the largest, most mature. Last year, the monarchs chose this one and a few others on which to lay their eggs. I am trying to have something for the monarchs when they come back. The other two nectar plants will likely get eaten. There is no box to hold the structure. The screens are pinned around the plants and thus, open to being shifted by the hoppers. It will likely just slow down the inevitable. I am not sure what I will have by September for monarchs to feed on — maybe tarweed and seep monkey flower if I am lucky.

We are still watering. The roots are alive, and will need strength to make it through this onslaught.

I am loathe to post photos of before this plague. It hurts to see the beauty of this place. I worry about all the bees that used these plants for food and lodging. What will become of them? It is important to see all the life these plants supported before they were ripped to shreds. Again – all of the plants below are now gone.

Milkweed – a Race to Save the Seed Pods

I have been traveling for work much of April and May. As the hoppers continued their death march, all I could do was hope from afar that it would not be as bad as I thought. Over the phone, David would prepare me for the worst. “Hey HB”, he would say. “Don’t freak out, ok? The grasshoppers are taking everything down. Expect that when you get home.” Guilt would creep into my dreams. I was not around to protect the California Milkweed seed pods. When I returned in early June, I ran to the close plot to gather seedpods. To my horror, most of the plants, seedpods and all, were completely gone. Stems were stripped. Please understand that this is early. Last year and the year before, the hoppers did not decimate things until late June and July when the pods were more mature. I thought I had time. Operating off this data, it shocked me to see the California Milkweed like this. My stomach sank as I ran from corpse to corpse looking for any sign of seedpods. I was going off location memory as some places only the absolute bottom of the stems were left. Luckily, I found a few with pods remaining.

It was getting hot, and I was running over the unshaded hillsides. I moved as quick as I could up the steep slope to the large section of California Milkweed. I did not expect to find much – but – to my joy and surprise, several of the older large plants were still intact. And…two had a large number of seed pods. With relief, I harvested them to continue my work of spreading their seed when it was safe.

In all, I gathered 13 pods. I left three immature pods on one stem, and will go back for them in a few days. They might have a chance – but they really were not ready to be pulled off.

Abundance in the Creeks

The last few weeks I took several biologists and a documentary filmmaker (Ian Nelson) across the ranch to showcase some of the stewardship work we have been doing. While in the riparian areas, we were able to witness an abundance of buckeye butterflies, great nectar plants, and a new cottonwood seedling. Shockingly, however, the grasshoppers are in the creeks as well. This is highly unusual. They tend to avoid wet places, and the creeks are still flowing with plenty of water. One biologist thought cattle got into the exclusion areas and ate the plants in the creek. I said, “No, this is grasshopper devastation.” She looked closer and saw the filigree in leaves and stems from a billion little mouths taking bites. She was shocked. As such, even in the excluded areas, there is no seep monkey flower, datura, or other riparian broadleaves. Even the thistle is eaten. Fortunately, the buckeye trees were still in bloom and a few other species had blossoms. As we approached some intact plants, we saw a diversity of native bees, including bumbles. My heart swelled. Now I knew that the bumbles had a place to find food. Phew!

Beautiful Reciprocity

Prior to the destruction, I had the honor to go to New Mexico twice for tribal events. The first time, I went to learn about riparian restoration at the Santa Clara Pueblo – the Poeh. We planted 100 trees and plants on their tribal lands after learning from their work.

My second trip was incredible, having been invited to present a case study on my pollinator work to a pollinator tribal summit at the campus of the Insititute of American Indian Arts (IAIA). Shana, the Southern Sierra Miwuk Nation Pollinator Coordinator, was invited as well. She presented and did an excellent job. There were US government agency leaders and over 15 tribes working on or wanting to start some type of pollinator habitat work. It was an incredible opportunity and experience. I met so many passionate people and enjoyed the beautiful weather of Santa Fe.

I also attended a ceremony of remembrance for the ancestors slaughtered at the Tubatulabal Tribe on their recently returned lands in April. It was moving. They are working to restore the lands to traditional uses. They want the ducks back, which is the meaning of their name – people of the mud duck. To bring ducks back you need water and insects. I helped them complete their application for a Xerces riparian habitat kit and learned in May that they had been awarded the grant. So grateful to Xerces for this habitat kit program and to the Tutbatulabal Tribe for everything they are doing to live in right relationship with the land.

I am also involved in the California Jobs First initiative and was recently appointed to the California State Fair Board. In all places, I am hoping to ensure an Indigenous perspective is at the table informing decisions – and hopefully, helping resources move to Indian Country, which has, for far too long, suffered from significant under-investment.

To be given guidance, opportunity, learning – they are gifts. They help advance my ability to be of service in this climate changing world. As such, I need to ensure I use these gifts to provide a benefit, to be helpful in a meaningful way – not a way that just I want, but a way that serves a greater good. This is reciprocity.

Don’t Get Down – Get Planting

As the landscape around the house is converted from blooms to straw, I made plans to continue to build habitat in Sacramento. While on a trip, I met Brenda Marsh. As people do, we discussed our work and involvements. When she learned about the severe decline in insects and pollinators, she asked if I would help her make a pollinator garden at her home. Of course I said yes! She lives in Sacramento. Since she is busy working and travels quite a bit, she does not have much landscaping – mostly an unwatered crabgrass lawn and some beautiful trees.

I did a little planning figuring out where the plants would go and in what configuration, and then I asked Ron Allen at Mariposa Native Plants what he had available. In the end, we got 20 plants, seven milkweeds and thirteen nectar plants. I convinced David to help me (I told him there was a great lunch in the deal for him). He is great with irrigation systems. David pulled together some irrigation supplies and off we went.

Much of Brenda’s neighborhood is sterile with lush green lawns and some exotic nectar plants. Still, while we were working there, we saw a big yellow swallowtail butterfly and a white sulfur fly by. Two blocks up and around the corner, there is a house with a wonderful native plant garden. It was bursting with life. This meant that there would be some nice islands pollinators could hop to without fear of pesticide and herbicide use. In all, it took about 4 and a half hours, not counting travel time. Thanks to Brenda for being part of the solution!

My next plan is to help a lady in Clovis plant a large pollinator garden within her nine acres. I met her on the plane on my way back from Santa Fe. She had no idea about the horrific decline in pollinators and was anxious to do something. These are examples of why we need to be talking about this work, what is happening in the world and that there are solutions people can be a part of. Media is great, but the person to person connection is most effective. Those relationships are durable treasures that can spark incredible change. We need to be connected to one another and in reciprocal relationship with the earth now more than ever.

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).

Rain and Gophers Impact Milkweed. Wildflowers. Education. Bumbles. 99th Post -WHAT?!

Popcorn flower in foreground with a kaleidoscope of color beyond

The smell of nectar – that is how I started my previous blog post. It is 10 times as intense now. As I walk, I breath deep, then deeper. I want my all the tissues in my body to remember the scent and oily feel of this sensory gift the plants are giving. They get something too of course – pollination, genetic distribution, a chance to live again next year through their progeny. A life well-lived, whether insect, flower, or mammal, is a life of reciprocity.

Almost daily I make my way up the steep hills to check on the California Milkweed. It has been raining, and I want to see how everything is impacted. I am not entirely sure why, maybe curiosity, for there is very little I can do to help them. Their lives are in nature’s interconnected tendrils, a thatch of inter-dependencies, of which I am just one piece – with agency – but not as effective as I would like.

Breathing deep (and labored from the grade), I finally get to my destination, the large community of plants. There are four things that become immediately clear: 1. something has been here before me. The dogs are sniffing tightly around the milkweed. I get nervous. 2. The leaves look a bit rough from moisture, the delicate, velvet-like fuzz drooped just a little, a dusting of white mildew on the body. 3. Flowers are already beginning to bud. It seems early, but what I have learned over the years is that the CA Milkweeds are truth-tellers, future-readers. I imagine them with their crystal balls beckoning me to sit nearby and listen to a reading of the future. The future they are predicting is a spring done early and longer summer. After all, we only had five days of real winter here – only 5 days the ground frosted over. 4. After my typical count, I finally see it. Plants are missing. I move around the space counting again. There were 10 of 17 at site one. Seven of 11 at site two. One of 1 at site three, and 1 of 2 at site four. There were 10 plants here the other day. I am missing two, no three plants, and I see that there is a new one that has emerged – so technically, there should now be 11. The cows were up there just a week before, but there is no sign of browsing, no trail of pulled stems and leaves remaining from an ill-conceived tasting of a bitter, toxic treat. It doesn’t make sense anyway. With all the thick, delicious, moisture-rich grass, there is no compulsion to try something that smells of bitterness. Among the missing is one of the largest, oldest plants. I get on my hands and knees to look closer. I see a hole. The gophers got them. What kind of gophers are these? They like the thick, bitter milk of the milkweed, the dense poison of the root? Before my heart sinks, I see one small leave still there. It’s adjacent leaf is bit off at the stem, but nonetheless one leaf and stem has survived.

One thing I have learned is that these plants are resilient and fast growers when the conditions are right. There are two large mature plants that can be egg-laying sites for monarchs. Remember, monarchs are choosy. They like to lay eggs on plants that are more mature, so there is sufficient food for their brood. There are others still emerged and growing. The rain and cool temps have slowed them, but it has also slowed the migration of the monarchs. It has given special time for the crotch bumble bee to make a meal of the emerging flowers before more hungry competition arrives. Then, the other plants, impacted but not dead will bloom and sprout, replacing the leaves and stems of the earlier sprouted mature plants after they are eaten by ravenous caterpillars. There is a wonderful balance to everything, and I have, we all have, our roles.

Education

Giving and receiving is how balance is created. You learn. You try. You teach what you learn from trying. I have shared how remarkable Shana, the Southern Sierra Miwuk Nation Pollinator Program Coordinator, is. She has a natural affinity and relationship with plants. The tribe has been doing a great job of offering cultural education classes for tribal members and other Indigenous residents. A couple weeks ago, Shana was a presenter on plant propagation at an Indigenous botany class. She presented with Jeanette Acosta who discussed the uses of pine. It was an outstanding program. Shana and Jeanette did a great job, and I learned so much. It is wonderful to see her learning and teaching.

Showing where to cut plants for propagation

A group of us also attended a workshop at UC Davis on traditional tule stewardship and its relation with limiting bug-borne diseases. It was fascinating. The presenters were Diana Almendariz, Maidu-Wintun natural and cultural history expert, and Geoffrey M. Attardo PhD, professor at UC Davis. It was one of the best presentations I have ever been to – a Sunday well-spent!

Diana with daughter Christina demonstrating weaving a tule mat. They were incredible!

This month, Shana and I will be attending a tribal pollinator co-management workshop in Santa Fe where we will learn and share. It was a tremendous honor to be invited to contribute and connect. I am looking forward to learning and building a larger network of stewards across the land. I have an additional trip to Santa Fe for a restoration workshop. We will be learning from Santa Rosa Pueblo people and others about their stewardship work and learning through helping.

Frogs, Toads, Birds, Bumbles and Butterflies

There is so much wildlife. The small brownish-white butterflies are all over the wildflowers. I saw the first painted lady, a pair actually, yesterday. There are more large bumble bees around than I have seen in over a decade. They are flying from flower to flower and then directly at me, sending me the message that I need to leave their food zone. I try to get a photo before I heed their wishes, but they are moving too fast. I leave and go back to my office to work. The songs of hundreds of birds blend beautifully each day outside my office window. Adding to their chorus are the chirps of frogs, toads and grasshoppers. The music is joyful. Chiokoe uttesiavu weweriam (Thank you relatives)!

Wildflowers Abound

These flowers are a lifeline for so many creatures. They are only possible because of water. So far, we have had just over 16″ of rain, spread well over the rain year, not in a few big gushers. This is just above average precipitation for Hornitos, and follows an abundant rain year. It has been pleasant to see this “normal” distribution of moisture, growth and blooming. I was concerned the milkweed and other flowers might be damaged by last weeks cold storm. They weren’t. We did not get snow, but the snow was close to our elevation making for beautiful views. I would have loved a snow storm like last year in January or February. Snow helps slow things down and distribute water slowly.

3 miles down the road at higher elevation

More Oaks Planted

My mother-in-laws were visiting again, which provided a wonderful opportunity for another set of hands to plant the oak trees. We planted four together along the drainages. Although I use the existing pattern of oak trees as a guide for where to plant, I am concerned that the soil in one of the drainages is a little too clay-like. One of the biologists once told me that trees can change an entire system if they take root by bringing up moisture, shading soil with their canopy and bringing more types of life to an area. Everything I do is an experiment based on logic and observation. The plants and land know where they can survive, where they should be. My role is to help them survive by watering during their initial first two years of life in a changing climate. If they make it through, my role then becomes one of monitoring and maintenance.

While oak planting, I also brought dried elderberry seed to plant. Last year, I gathered elderberry from an old grove near the Tuolumne River to help the Southern Sierra Miwuk have enough stock for an elderberry syrup making class and for elders. I saved a little for me and dried some seed for planting this year. We will see if there is enough moisture to make this plant happy. I planted them near the small spring.

My 99th Post!

Whew – 99. I am on the edge of triple digits. The next post will be a celebration and reflection. I continue to be astonished by this journey, the wonderful plants, animals, insects, amphibians and humans that I meet. It has been a huge amount of work, but I am grateful everyday for this opportunity to steward – even if my back, shoulders, feet, legs and arms are sore. It is worth every ice pack!

Wrapping 2023 and Welcoming 2024

Pollinator Program Coordinator Shana leads her team of volunteers

When people ask, “How was your holiday season?”, I reply, “Absolutely fantastic.” Not only did I have waves of family and friends, who I love, visit, but I was out with my Southern Sierra Miwuk Nation pollinator family as well. I can think of few ways more precious to spend my time than helping care for our Maala Bwia (Mother Earth) with others who care deeply about our butterfly, bee and plant relatives. I also love to watch Shana, the Pollinator Program Coordinator, work. She is so knowledgeable, organized, a terrific problem solver and hard worker.

In December, I helped her and several other volunteers plant Xerces Society Habitat Kit plants in the Oak Fire burn scar. Shana has collaborated with several property stewards whose land was burned over, and some whose entire homes burned completely, to repopulate the land with native pollinator plants. It was incredible to see the scale of the fire from the ground. We had to dig through layers of ash to plant – giving the natural world just a little head start and hungry life forms, looking for food, a place they can count on. It was also very encouraging to see so many native plants regrown, including oak seedlings sprouting. Like my people, the plants are resilient.

Shana going through plant lists and paperwork with land steward Kathleen

This work is sacred; it is living in reciprocity… giving your time, energy, and attention to supporting the life of others – human, insect, plant, mammal or otherwise – that support you. As Indigenous people, we can feel moved to honor someone for their contributions — and, as a people, we are so talented, creative, resourceful and generous. It was in this context that one of the Pollinator Team members, Trisha, gifted a gorgeous doll to Shana, which Trisha had made. The medicine in the doll was so palpable. Like Shana, the doll is a warrior. Trisha even made a miniature spear of obsidian. Wow.

After taking the photo, I was talking to another volunteer, then turned around to see Trisha extending a doll to me too. I was shocked and so honored that she would gift me such a beautifully made item. The doll she gave to me was a wood gatherer. I love it. She is a powerful piece as well, with her carefully crafted wood bundle on her back, wood wrap on her front and an expertly carved miniature hatchet with a blade of stone on her hip. She is so cool. Thank you Trisha for your thought of me and being moved by the energy we all posses to make things better for our relatives. Aho.

We did this work in December, so gifting was on the mind I suppose. One of my favorite relatives, Pete, surprised me with a gourd canteen gift that he grew and prepared for carrying water. Pete (Mescalero Apache), and his wife Jakki (TX Cherokee), are close friend-family. We are probably even biologically related somewhere. My grandfather told me how Yaquis and Apaches are cousins. I found out later that indeed, my Yaqui people used to hide the children with the Apaches when we were being hunted. Likewise, when the Apaches had their fights, they stored their children with us. How sad that this was necessary, but what a beautiful act to protect one another’s future. Reciprocity again.

It is difficult to express how grateful I was to receive both these gifts; truly, it was overwhelming. Compliments are difficult for me. The work is its own reward. Fortunately, we had a lot of work to do, so I could put the energy from my heart, swollen with joy, into planting. Chiokoe uttesia Pete, in weweria. Thank you Pete, my relative.

The Hilltop Freezes – Finally

We need things to freeze so life can rest. Freezes also help retain balance by eliminating population overages [Think: grasshoppers]. For the last four days, there has been a crystal white coating of frost on the ground. Troughs and baths have a solid shell at the top. My breath has been visible as I go about doing my morning chores. Just a few weeks ago I could still go outside in a tank top for a little bit, but now a large jacket is required attire. The rain has come more frequently, and I am wishing for snow.

Beatrix puzzled by the solid sheet she encounters

With the cold weather, I will admit that I have felt more sluggish – wanting to curl up with a blanket, book and hot cup of tea. Although the pace is slower, there is still work to be done. I have the cross fence going in to protect the California Milkweed. My cattleman’s son, Chaz, is helping me with that. He does great work. I am still planting a few native plants, and doing quite a bit of seeding. I received 10lbs of narrowleaf milkweed seed that I am sowing. I also just received my order of California seed mix for habitats and meadows, which contain native grasses and wildflower. With the rain and easy ground to work, it is a fantastic time to plant seeds.

When my mothers-in-law were visiting for the holidays, it was great. I had an extra set of hands to help. For regular readers of this blog, it will seem as though every guest to my home is put to work. I promise; they are always asking to help. Liz is a wonderful helper too. Every time she visits, she is up for working on laborious tasks. She helped dig two trenches one year for rain catchment. She helped build up brush piles and move wood another time. This time, she helped me plant milkweed seeds. It is not too intense of work, but it does take time to give the seeds a quality head start. Sometimes, you can just broadcast seeds, throw them out in the area you want them to grow. This can work, but does provide easy pickings for birds, and you are just hoping there were more seeds than bird pecks. What Liz and I decided to do was to create a small disturbance in the soil with a rake, toss the seeds in the new furrows, then rake back over the soil in the opposite direction. Using this method, the idea is to cover the seeds with soil, decreasing the possibility of “feeding the birds” primarily and planting seeds secondarily.

We did broadcast milkweed seeds in the arroyo around the rock and log drop structures given that the seeds would fall into deeper spaces between the rock into the soil – those spaces being like a deeper furrow. We chose this area because the rocks will slow runoff, and soil moisture will last longer in these spaces. This should give the milkweed roots more moisture longer to use for growth.

Monitoring

Monitoring the various conservation practices and the general health of the ranch are my favorite activities. Walking the hills, valleys and cliff sides, crossing creeks and breathing in the smells of the Earth bring me happiness. I make sure the guzzler and catchment system are functioning, the rain return in place and that the rock and branch access “ladder” for small creatures is built up to the top. I look at the creek beds and banks for changes, the health of the trees, the clarity and volume of water, what animals are around, pick up any trash that has floated in (by air or water) and take note of anything else that seems interesting.

Wanderings

My garden is continuing to provide gifts despite the cold weather. Tomatoes, peas and arugula make for a wonderful salad in January. We still have small tomatoes beginning to grow. I don’t know how that is possible with all the leaves dropped. The peas are still blooming as well. There were two delicate purple flowers, the beginnings of pea pods. Maala Bwia is also continuing to provide a show of magnificence. Every day I am able to capture gorgeous photos.

We live in such a beautiful place, and on a beautiful planet. Daily, I am very conscious of my good luck. As with Yin and Yang, it compels me to consider the struggle, war, hatred and hard times all over the human world. At the very moment I take a deep breath and smile at seeing the sunset, on the other side of the world a woman my age is exhaling through sobs – sobbing for a life, a person, a land she loved now bombed to oblivion.

Each of us have times of suffering – some more than others. We pray, bargain, make wishes for peace. I know each time I make a wish it is for peace. In truth, peace is a difficult concept, even a fool’s errand. A favorite philosopher, Vine Deloria said “Peace is not possible”, that humans were by nature “violent and greedy”, that what we should aspire to is “respect”. If we understand the innate worth of one another and all things, how is it that we can harm or exploit? This concept was transformative for me as a young person. It aligned with my experiences, the hate that I did not understand, the hate that made me hate, which makes me less of what I could, and should, be.

Like the wood gatherer doll Trisha gave me, I would pick up memories, and experiences that would fuel me, things that I could burn to keep going – the lack of resources of my family, one stick; the desire to contribute to my people, another stick; the need to protect my nature relatives, more sticks. But, there was more – whispers from from my ancestors saying, “Never forget they made your mother go to the back door of the restaurant to purchase food to make her feel like she was nothing.” and, “Never forget they told you, as you stood holding your little brown brother next to you, that you couldn’t swim in the pool, which your parent’s rent money helped pay for.” and, “Always remember that things were taken from you – relatives, knowledge, songs, relationships, language – the things you are crying about when you don’t know why you are crying.” and…

My DNA was built both on the resilience that was necessary because of the hardship, as well as the hardship itself. Inside those helices are where the echos “Never forget” live. And, I do…I do remember everything my grandfather told me, my mother, all my other relatives. It is a warning of what’s possible as much as it is a memory. So, yes, I keep it, but I cannot let it define me. I can’t or else it would consume me. It is the kind of power that converts hate to atrocity. I don’t allow it to kill my potential, my joy, optimism and love. This is why the concept of respect is powerful. Peace is perfection, but respect is achievable. Anger is so deep, what weights it down, keeps it diluted, and allows the light inside to beam, is the knowledge that there is value to the pain and, believe it or not, in those who give it.

Respect. Without it, there would be no end to the fighting, the anger and pain — and that is no way to live. You cannot grow things when you are killing them too.

Light in darkness as the moon rises and shines

Gifts

Gifts come in many forms, and it is often wonderful to receive them. I certainly hope the lovely readers of this blog have had a holiday season filled with pleasant surprises. For me, there have been more than a few thoughtful arrivals in my mailbox and at holiday gatherings. My favorite gifts, however, are not purchased – with the possible exceptions of Milky the Cow and Hoppity Horse when I was 8 years old.

Gift of Purpose

One of my favorite gifts is the opportunity to steward this land. Every day, I consider my time here precious. On Christmas, I was given the gift of being able to plant what (I hope) will be iconic sentinels on the hill – blue oaks. If you are a regular reader, you will know that, last year, I lost two 200 year old oaks from a combination of drought and age, and that their loss tore my heart into a million small pieces.

If you know anything about blue oaks, you know they grow slow. This is why, at least in California, there are rules to protect these majestic beauties from being cut down in a thoughtless moment of caprice. To look at them, to be present within their sphere, is to be transformed. They are majestic with their large size, accommodation of a complex ecosystem and tortuous branches reaching out wide from their trunk decorating the air with smell and statement…this is my place; I am here.

I have attempted to plant blue oaks over the years – acorns carefully placed into the ground, tubes to prevent predation of roots and delicate branches, seedlings in root balls of ancient, dead trees. All were eaten by gophers, stepped on by cows, or never germinated. Now, I am planting seedlings in baskets and protecting them further by an external fence. They will be watered regularly in the first one or two years. Maybe this will work. I have lost years with these set-backs.

Planted oak #2 in flat area near the driveway

There is an urgency because many blue oak woodlands are in decline. Even on my ranch there are few young trees. You can find seedlings in the creek banks and many adults, but there are very few young trees to take the place of the old. How horrible to live in a community with no young. I feel sad for the adult blue oaks with no youth to mentor, to raise and watch grow. I want to be sure there are forests of blue oaks for the young of my species, so together they can breathe, marvel at one another’s beauty and rely on the common sense and decency built into each of us for respect – knowing that we need one another.

Digging 18″ deep in the crumpled former canopy of my beloved late oak tree

Gift of Life

Cattle also provide us gifts, perhaps not of their own free will, but by their lot in life. In this passage, I will be honest with you about our food system. If your heart cannot handle this information or you do not want to be sad at this time of joy, please skip to the next section. I won’t judge you. I get it. Living with it, as I do every day, it is impossible for me to avoid. Having a break can be helpful for the empathic soul.

This Christmas, my heart has been split, one side celebratory of the season and the other focused on a downed cow. While I was gone visiting family, evidently bulls were rough with Cow #253 as they attempted to breed. According to my cattleman, this is not a rare occurrence. Cows can be harmed in the process, and can have injuries. Most convalesce and recover in a brief time. Unfortunately for Cow #253, her injury appears more severe. It has been preventing her from being able to stand. She has been laying near my upper gate for days.

She was not there when I left for a party at a friend’s last week, but she was there when I returned the next day in the evening. Cows bed down at night, and I did not think much of it except that she was by herself – which is not usual. I made a mental note. She was there the next morning still laying down. Very unusual. I had talked to my cattleman several days before. There had been respiratory illness in some of the calves. I thought, maybe she was sick. I took a photo, sent it and called him. He came out that day to take a look and bring some hay to her. She was healthy, but unable to stand – hence the botched breeding theory. He would give her pain meds and other medical help and would wait a few day to see if she would be able to stand.

In my comings and goings, I kept him informed. He came back another couple times I think. Christmas was the first day I have been fully home, and it gave me the opportunity to keep a closer eye on the situation.

I woke early Christmas morning and looked for her. Sadly, she was still there laying nearly helpless on the ground. To my horror, a bull was there too, sniffing her rear and eating the hay that had been brought for her. I put my jacket and boots on, dogs at my side, and strided quickly toward the pair yelling at him to get away from her. He stood his ground, but I was undeterred. She had suffered, presumably due to his clumsy greed, and I would not have that again. He was stubborn, but retreated, remaining in visual contact. As I began to climb back up the hill, he headed back toward her. It was a dance I was uninterested in dancing. I went full force back toward him, yelling, dogs pushing him away. Finally, he surrendered and headed east away from us.

El Toro looks at us longing to return – Not while I am here!

I approached her. Oh my, she was a beauty. Large, healthy coat, big beautiful engaged eyes. My presence was viewed with suspicion. Cows get handled so much in their lives, and these encounters are often painful, such as branding, doctoring or emotionally, when their calves are taken from them to be fattened by another operation then sold to the feedlot before they become food and fiber products. If a cow does not become pregnant within a couple breeding cycles, she herself is sold off to the feedlot and joins her many calves before her as hamburger, steaks, dog chews, shoes and car seats. While there is diversity in the timing, methods, inputs and level of respect, fundamentally, cattle is a business. A cow’s only value is in calve production. That is the honest long and short of it.

So Cow #253 tolerated me. She flinched as I approached her even closer, inspecting her on all sides. I cooed to her, talking sweet and telling her how sorry I was that she was in this situation. How could I help her? I was wishing I had a hoyer lift to help her stand and see what malfunction was hidden underneath. She mooed at me as she tried to stand. Pain? Frustration? I saw how much she was trying and trying to stand, to move from me and continue her life of grazing, and calve raising. But no, she could only drag herself a few feet one direction or another; I could tell by the patterns on the ground, the absence of grass, the splattering of feces. All I could do was keep her company a little at a time, fill her water vessel that the cattlemen had left, but was now empty, and hand her hay that was well out of her reach. I encouraged her every time she tried to stand.

By the end of the day, I was convinced that the only help would come in the form of a bullet. As much as I hoped she would miraculously get better, that nothing was fractured or broken, I began to theorize that those rough bulls crushed part of her. In the business of cattle, there is no financial incentive to heal fractures or breaks. Often, those types of injuries are difficult to heal even if it was desired, and with no guarantee the animal would have a pain-free life. She is less costly dead than putting more time and money into her. This realization, as I texted my cattleman the words “She is still down and is frustrated. It’s been 4 days.”, placed a deep weight in my stomach.

I hear the gunshot. It is done. She is no longer suffering.

Last night, a small group of cows laid near her, and it probably brought her comfort. She is being dragged to the south part of the ranch as I write this – part to spare me the sight and smell of rotting flesh and part to keep things clean for the public lest they see the cost of their beef.

Even though cattle are foreigners on this native landscape, brought as familiar food and fiber by colonizing forces, they are sentient creatures and deserve respect. I love them because they are alive. Cow #253 and I communicated. I tried to meet her needs, to help her; I will mourn her passing. As a person who uses leather products, takes medication with bovine ingredients, and feeds a small amount of beef products to my dogs, I am part of the demand for her meat, bones and skin – and am always grateful for her gifts. After death, her body will nourish countless wildlife – coyotes, vultures, eagles and worms. It will give me a great show in the air, as I watch for who has caught the smell of carrion and dives down to feast. Chiokoe uttesia (Thank you) Cow #253 for feeding my relatives, may you graze peacefully somewhere in the energetic unknown.

Gift of Friendship and Labor

We have had a total of 1.7 inches since Oct 1. There is no standing water, but the springs and creek are still running from the remarkable last rain year. When the rain comes, we are ready. In November, my college best friend and her daughter visited. It was joyous. Among many fun things we did on the ranch, we built up last year’s successful rock check dam hoping for more sediment gain and soil moisture retention. Last year, the benefit was incredible with standing water and flowers in the typically dry arroyo through September. Dry areas 20 feet up stream (above the grass and flowers) and just below the rock check dam told me what I had done worked.

Sediment back up from natural branch dam

Gift of Beauty and Food

The weather is still temperate. Although it has finally gotten cold, there has been no frost on the hilltop. We still have a variety of blooms, one or two butterflies, a small number of bees and tomatoes! Yesterday, I saw a very large painted lady butterfly. A little pink throated hummingbird balanced on the edge of the tomato cage watching me as I filled the cart with water for the downed cow. I was able to see it clearly and had time to observe it closely. It was beautiful. So many small things bring joy.

Gift of Service to Community

In November, I joined the Southern Sierra Miwuk (SSMW) in helping at their cultural burn on the Mariposa Creek Parkway project. I helped Ray Gutierrez start the fire traditionally using air and friction between soft and hard woods. That was exciting! There were many agencies helping and so many friends to catch up with. One of my favorite people of all time, elder Bill Tucker, was there. As usual, he lead me on a hike through some dicey territory looking for grinding stones. We found many. I love him!

The plants we planted the month before looked healthy. I took this opportunity to straighten out the gopher baskets and coir discs. I have also been helping Shana Saucido, the SSMW Pollinator Coordinator, plant the Xerces habitat kits in the Oak Fire burn scar. No photos of this yet, but we still have many plants to plant. I am very grateful for the opportunity to serve my relatives and the local First Nations.

Gift of Knowledge Through Art

November and early December, David and I traveled to Quebec City. There was a powerful exhibit of Indigenous art at the Fine Arts Museum (Musée des Beaux Arts). We don’t take large trips often, but when we do, I always like to learn about the places we go and whatever knowledge First Nations people want to share. The fine art Native people produce is extraordinary and the specific stewardship stories are inspirational.

Gift of Time for Reflection

I have had some very nice blocks of down-time over the holiday season to reflect on this work and what is next. Seventeen monarchs last Fall, more crotch bumble bees than before, enough toads to populate a pond – all from having the right native plants. As long as the plants, butterflies and bees continue to show up, the work will be a success. Shana from the Tribe has taken this project and scaled it up with an effervescence and zeal only possible through a deep love of this work. What a gift for me to see even more habitat installed as yet another Indigenous young woman is inspired by a small but remarkable orange, black and white life. Life is full, wondrous and leaving me thinking about what is next.

Although I am still working out the details on my next step, I will be sure to share it here. One thing is for sure, it will involve a drawing for free t-shirts at the time of the 100th post. More information soon. Thank you for going on this journey with me, for sticking with the project during sad times and joyful. Thanks for reading, providing feedback and encouragement. It is unlike me to share so deeply, but I have found that I learn so much from you when I do. Chiokoe uttesiavu (Thank you all).

Warm November Means More Butterflies, Bees and Blooms

California Hairstreak nectars on a basil flower

It should be much colder than it is. We are in the 70s every day with overnight lows in the 50s. It feels like Southern California weather. The storm that came in overnight was warm with very little actual water. There were only a few drips in the rain gauge – not even enough to make a 1/16th.

Butterflies, a wide variety, continue to visit. Yesterday, we had a large bumble bee and several silver native bees. They were attacking the poor bumble to get it to leave the flower. The bumble persisted though and got its nectar. Fortunately, there is nectar for all these creatures. The basil continues to have flowers, albeit many less. There are pacific asters, california fuchsia, verbena, black-eyed susans, a little bit of tarweed and dove weed left, marigolds (now that the life sucking beetles have moved on), peas, pumpkin, goldenrod, stevia herb, a few arugula, and one sunflower about ready to bloom, believe it or not. Lots to eat, so there is much activity including honeybees and small native bees and pollinating flies.

More Check Dams

We have used the cooler weather to build and shore up more check dams. We had rock and logs left over from the rock and log drop structures we put in last month. Fortunately, I had a very able-bodied and willing friend visiting last week. Jen is a total country girl who lives in a city. She has worked on a variety of natural resources projects including riparian restorations. Lucky me! Jen was able to provide additional guidance on the much more informal installation of the latest check dams. They are my hurried, poor girl’s version of the real thing, but they will work to slow water run-off. Don’t be scared to visit; I don’t put all my friends to work here. Jen was super excited about slinging a pick ax and using the chainsaw. My kind of woman!

While in this section of the ranch, I also checked on the Spring Creek. I opened the gate after a year to the riparian exclusion area to let the cattle graze. The flowers were almost gone, and there was plenty of feed to distract the cows from the oak seedlings. The cockle burrs and thistle were high, grass abounded, and the creek filled with water plants. After just a week with the gate open and only a few pairs (cow calve pairs), the area was grazed well with the thistle and cockle burr stands knocked down. The creek was opened up, and water was more exposed. The oak seedlings were all doing well and brush piles still standing. This is range management – timing grazing where it will do good for both cows and the ecosystem.

Working in Reciprocity

In addition to work on the ranch, I have had other opportunities to expand habitat. The Southern Sierra Miwuk Nation (SSMN) has a wonderful project in partnership with Sierra Foothill Conservancy and the Mariposa Arts Council to restore a large segment of Mariposa Creek in downtown Mariposa. It is a gorgeous section of creek front that had trash and an overgrowth of invasive plants, like Himalayan blackberry. They have cleaned up the property with fire and litter removal to prepare the site for adding back native plants. I appreciate all the work SSMN is doing to be good stewards in keeping with their values, and the opportunity it provides me to give back. This past week was the planting, and I was so excited to participate. Being in community with so many good people and friends is healing. I even got to work with Shana Saucido the Tribe’s new Pollinator Program Coordinator.

One of my favorites: Elder Tuck and his daughter Debbie

I picked up the SSMN’s Xerces habitat kits in Lockeford the other week. I was able to fit all of them in my truck (Whew!). Now Shana has about 1,000 plants to get into the ground! Thanks to Andrew Gliken of Raw Roots Farms for picking up all the hedge row kits the day before. All of it would not have fit without his help!

I also had the honor of being asked to teach at the Oka Uuchum – Ancestral Teachings gathering on native plants and pollinators. I partnered with Deedee Soto from Xerces and Kristie Martin, one of the previous Pollinator Program Coordinators, to provide an hour and a half walk, learn and plant circle. We had one of the largest turnouts of the gathering, and, in reciprocity with the land that was hosting us, we planted a pollinator garden. As I began my portion of the talk, a monarch flew through the crowd. I am not making this up. I almost began to cry and quickly had to compose myself. I said “Amand te tevote base’eboli weweria! Chiokoe uttesia (Acknowledging you butterfly relative. Thank you.)”. We do this work for all relatives, especially the children and the wild creatures. The monarch came through to remind us of its beauty, its importance, its magic – and it is worth fighting for. Keep building habitat y’all!

Gratitudes

The last few weeks have been rough. Everything came to a head. Major projects for work, the ranch and volunteering were all due around the same time, plus life changes in family situations with a cousin, a sister, a parent. On top of all of this, my dear friend Pando passed away. I had been visiting her in her care home since February. I know she was not happy. Almost overnight, she went from alert to dying. It took her almost 4 days to “get her wings” as she would say. As we all know, death is part of the bargain in life. Still, it leaves a hole and moves you to contemplate your own life. What I realized is how happy I am. It is the joy of digging in the dirt, helping the planet in some small way, meeting people with the same love, living in the Sierras, having work with clear and direct purpose, being in love with the person I live with, having people who love me, having animals to care for, and working with people who value my contributions. The media tries to sell you despair, envy, greed, copious consumption; don’t buy it. We each have choices, so choose to make a difference in some small way. Tell someone you love them. Hold hands. Say “yes” to that friend or family member you’ve been rescheduling. Rescue and care for an animal. Plant milkweed and watch it grow.

Butterfly Explosion

If I was in a dream, I would not know the difference. Real life has been unbelievable. There have been so many butterflies here, it is like a multicolor, zigzaggy snow globe. Painted ladies, west coast ladies, white ones, yellow sulfurs, hairstreaks, buckeyes, and so many others. There have even been additional monarch sightings! I’ve not been able to identify all that have fluttered and flitted their way around the plants and around me as I make my way through chores, a large, joyous grin across my face.

Not only butterflies, but bees are still abundant. We are getting european honeybees as well as a variety of native bees. One floated in front of my face today. There are still dragonflies, and a plethora of two types of beetles are eating my garden and flowers. The most fun has to be the toads. All the babies are now full size. When I near the toad pond, I catch a glimpse of pickle-textured eyeballs just above the waterline. They quickly dip back under as I walk by or lean in to get a closer look. The toads are soiling the water into that creamy jade green color. I add fresh rain water daily to try to stay ahead of the muck.

The warmth has continued during the day, even as the overnight temperatures have dipped into the 40s. There are still a myriad of flower blooming – pacific aster, goldenrod, butterfly bush, black-eyed susans, maybe one or two sunflowers, marigolds, tarweed, doveweed, vinegarweed, california fuchsia, verbena, and from my garden, basil, pumpkin and arugula are also bloomed.

Webs have been flying through the air with their cargo of precious spider babies. They land everywhere. Meanwhile, the tarantulas are moving about. There are not as many as last year. I’ve counted 22 so far. I have seen two other very large spiders and captured an image of one of them. The other was a wolf spider – the largest I have seen of that kind – and I have seen some very large ones. Sadly, I did not get a photo of that one. They are really beautiful.

Water is still running on the ranch. Odom Creek has considerable volume and continues to fill the neighbor’s pond. The spring on Spring Creek is continuing to produce, but the water runs only about 100′ before disappearing. Remarkably, the soil area behind the rock check dam is still green. The cows are back and have eaten the vegetation in that area, but it is still moist and producing new shoots of grass.

One of the down-sides of excluding cattle from the riparian areas has been the proliferation of thistle and cockleburrs. While the cows may not eat them, they trample those plants at the start, so they don’t get as good a foothold in the flatter areas. Seeing the cockleburrs up close brought back memories of talks with my grandfather. How he hated cockleburrs. He told me how they would slice into him as he crawled through hedgerows and fields trying to avoid being killed in WWII. It was after he moved from Omaha Beach into the hillsides trying to take out the bunkers that were slaughtering allies on the beach. He said they would stick into him and get into his clothing making him miserable. What a plant.

We had a Fall storm that was 1/2″ in just over an hour. My rainwater tanks filled more allowing me to extend my ability to irrigate as the weather turned hot again. I checked the guzzler, and it worked perfectly, as designed. It also filled that tank more providing fresh water for wildlife to access.

Note the water levels as indicated by the scum line. You can see that the rain filled the tank higher than the most recent scum line, which is below water level. You can also see how high the water once was by the highest scum ring.

The rain in late September was welcome and left the air clear, soil moist and made for dramatic skies.

Pollinator Education Continues

I have been continuing my pollinator education work. I joined members of my Yaqui Tribe at Indigenous People’s Day in Sacramento, where I included pollinator materials and plants at the table. I was also honored to be asked to teach with my pollinator team friends, Kristie and Deedee, at the recent Traditional Lifeways gathering. We discussed native plants, seed collection, medicine and food uses, pollinator relatives and then we had everyone plant native pollinator plants in an area we chose before the event. It was an incredible experience. As I began to speak, a monarch flew through our gathering of people. I nearly lost it. This is exactly why we need to plant as much habitat as possible – to bring back their population from the edge and to ensure that the next generation has the magical experience of seeing this large, bright butterfly as a regular part of their lives. Oh, I also completed my Pollinator Stewardship certification program and passed. The Pollinator Partnership conferred my badge – I am an official Pollinator Steward!

Yaqui relatives bring people around the healing drum

Up Next

This week I will be picking up the Xerces Kits for the Tribe’s Pollinator program and for another farmer here locally, Raw Roots Farm. I shared plants with them last year. They had a profusion of monarchs this year. I am so excited by their work. I am still waiting for clearance to build the cross fence from NRCS. I have my vendor and materials – all I need is NRCS to green light the work. The cross fence is to protect the rare california milkweed stands during caterpillar time. I am also waiting for a grant from Point Blue Roots program to begin my guzzler work. I am placing another one in the back 40 with a rainwater tank and catchment structure. I imagine I will be helping the Tribe’s Pollinator Coordinator plant plants this Fall. So…I am never without stewardship work to do.

Wanderings

Rest-time is Over | Flowers Emerge | First Butterfly Spotted

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

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

Rains Bring Flowers

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

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

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

Water

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

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

Water has receded reveling sandy edges and bars

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

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

Fire

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

Wanderings

Planting Seeds for the Future

A. Californica seeds from 2021 ready to go into the ground

Cold nights and winter rains provide a nice rest from the typical pace and scale of stewardship work. It is very pleasant to sit with my mug of tea staring out the east facing window while still in my pajamas. I am in no rush, as I am in the spring, summer and fall. I can lounge a little and contemplate the future I am attempting to create for monarchs, pollinators – really, all living things. At some point, reverie must turn into action, so I pull on my overalls, turtleneck with flower embellishments, slowly bend to pull one wool sock on, then the other. No searing sun in recent weeks, so choose to warm my ears instead of protect my skin. The best choice is the knit cap my mother made – a pink crocheted masterpiece. Finally, I put my rubber muck boots on. I prefer to work in these – easy on, easy off and waterproof. It has been wet, and soggy ground is everywhere, even between storms.

The past few weeks, I’ve been working on impromptu, small check-dam structures to slow storm run off, A. Californica seed planting, infrastructure checks and garden clean up. Soon, I will find the energy to deepen troughs dug two months ago and create more mini swales.

Playing in the water is fun. The next gallery shows my work building a mini check dam across the bottom of Spring Creek. The concept of the check dam is to slow water runoff to prevent down stream erosion, and give water an opportunity to sink in to recharge ground water stores. Another benefit is to build up sediment behind it, which helps decrease the depth of a section of creek that may be unnaturally steep.

Starting with a line of rock across a narrow section of creek

Rain (Destruction + Rebirth) Continues

Water is both a destructive and a life-giving force. The recent series of storms have required the evacuation of towns, soiled water sources, torn up creeks and rivers, and resulted in loss of life. However, this water will also help start seeds, fill up low reservoirs, clean up debris in stream beds, and bring life to many a creature just waiting for the right amount moisture, like frogs. We have not had an abundance of frogs for several years. The ground has been too dry and standing water too warm. As you can imagine, with all the water across thousands of open acres, the frogs sing an amphibian anthem to life and water. Oh how I love hearing their cacophony of croaks and chirps.

The rain has also filled my rainwater tanks, which will keep new pollinator plants alive when temperatures soar past 100 degrees later this year. Although it is a soggy, muddy mess out here, I am filled with gratitude and joy. Chiokoe uttesia va’am (Thank you water).

The Xerces plants are doing extremely well with all the rain. Some of the mature plants are looking over watered, but still very healthy.

Stewardship: More Than Just Brawn

There are many types of “seeds” one must plant to produce a better future for our non-human relatives. Last week, Tara (Southern Sierra Miwuk Nation) and I provided comments at the California Wildlife Conservation Board meeting in support of a grant opportunity that would benefit Mariposa County and fund the Pollinator Team for another five years (The Board voted “Yes”!!). I have written and co-written grants, sent written comments on policy changes and tried to work with my county on pesticide/herbicide use reform. I also continue to learn so that I can be more effective as a habitat restorer and as an advocate. In December, I attended the Intertribal Agricultural Council conference – very cool. In February, I will attend the Community Alliance with Family Farmers (CAFF) Small Farms Conference. I am also thinking about getting certified as a Pollinator Steward. It is a little expensive and not entirely in my career area, but it is something I enjoy. Thinking about it.