wildlife guzzlers – Heather Bernikoff

Adding a New Initiative

Dead blue oak tree and great habitat for bats, birds and many other species

It happened on Thursday, and I saw it too. I was walking my route checking all the log and rock dams when there was a popping sound. The dogs looked to the northeast, so I did too. I didn’t see anything. The sound was not immediately identifiable, and I continued walking. When I was at the edge of the grove, the sound came down the drainages. It was a loud crack. Oh shit. Fear sent adrenaline through every channel in my body all at once. The dogs looked back in the direction from which we came and took off running full speed to investigate. It was clear the sound was well behind me. My body eased. I swung around just in time to hear another crack, and then thud. I caught sight of the branch of a long dead, once magnificent, tall blue oak drop to the ground. The dogs realized the seriousness, and ran even faster back to me. It was a jolting reminder for me to be extremely careful and vigilant as I walk the range, reading the trees and never going under branches that are angled down towards the ground.

Turning tail to head back full speed (two dots at the end of the green. Oak is the gray tree behind the dog on the right, through the branches in the foreground)

We had a doozie of a storm four nights ago, with .75″ of rain and wind so ferocious, my kelpie Millie was trembling against my body, unable to sleep. With the rain and wind, it is almost guaranteed that the trees will be impacted. Branches loosened from bark and trunk through death and drought are vulnerable to the moisture and wind. Gravity then finishes the job, dropping the large, tortuous branches, and sometimes entire trees, to the ground. It can be very dangerous.

How did the ranch get this way? I try not to take it personally. I have lived on this land for 21 years. Since that time, we have lost almost 300 blue oaks. Some, I think, were at their expiration date, but most have been pressured by drought. Leading up to the 5-year drought that began in 2011, I noticed the loss of several grand old trees down slope from the house. However, it was not until 2016, the year just after the 5-year drought that entire hillsides, ridges and even some near the creek died. It was a horror. I did not know what to do. I called experts, who looked for signs of disease. There was none. They were perplexed, but they were just learning as well that this was happening all over California. It brought me some small bit of comfort to know it was not something I was doing to cause their deaths. Still, I was distraught at their loss and anxious to learn more about what could be done.

A New Passionate Work

Given the recent blue oak die-off, I am committing to now work hard toward restoring some of the population of blue oaks that died. I understand that there is not sufficient moisture to sustain replacing the oaks 1:1. I am proposing to restore a portion of them, probably close to 1/3rd of the lost oaks. This means I will need to plant at least 120 seedlings, anticipating that some will not make it. I will need to continue to protect the seedlings in the creek banks – hoping they will grow more. As I have reported in this blog, three I’ve been protecting for 10 years, before the riparian exclusion fence, have stayed nearly the same size all those years. With the groundwater recharge work I am doing and adding some trenching work around oak planting areas, I am hoping that I can retain enough moisture to help bring some baby blue oaks to maturity.

My plan: I have already ordered 103 oaks for next year, and have received 22 to plant for this year. Holes will need to be dug close to 18″ deep to loosen the soil and make space for the 18″ cages, with 6″ of the 18″ of cage being above ground to deter overland gophers, etc. About 92 of the seedlings will be planted in special cages. Ron Allen of Mariposa Native Plants conceived of a stiff gauge cage with a soft pine base that has small holes in it. The holes allow for water flow but mostly for oak roots to penetrate. The soft pine will degrade quickly allowing for the tap root to get bigger without any pressure. The cages will be able to be removed after a few years or will degrade over time. The other 28 seedlings will be planted either near the creeks where there are less gophers or using 15 gallon mesh shields. New seedlings outside the exclosure area will get 3×4 fencing around them to protect from cattle and a coconut pad around the planting site to discourage grass competition. Inside the exclosure will be coconut pads, some cages depending on proximity to the creek, but no extra fencing. Those planted outside the exclosure area will have some trenching dirt work done to help contain run off and retain moisture.

Fortunately, I have some NRCS funding that will help cover the costs. There will likely be significant cost overage with the dirt work, which I will need to cover. I also have a Partners grant through Fish and Wildlife, but it is limited. Because all of these government funds pay you after the work is done, I will need to float this project from my personal money for a year. I almost always need to cover planning, reporting and labor costs personally despite any grant funds. This is why, when I work at a large scale, it has to be a passion project. I have to be willing to spend my own money.

It is important to share how all of this work gets funded, because it is part of the challenge but also shows the changing nature of the Farm Bill and other government policies that have been trending more and more to support of these critical efforts. We need support for butterflies, trees, groundwater recharge and so much more to build resilient ecosystems in the face of climate change. We need to pay people for their time to do this work. It produces jobs, connects people with one another, protects communities and puts money into local businesses. What I do on my ranch impacts my community, my region and beyond. What you do in your yard, on your patio, what you buy, how you travel, what you wear, it all matters. You make a difference. Work like this is worth our time and money.

Running Water

With the consistent and productive rain storms, all of the drainages and creeks are fully running. Although we had water all year in Odom Creek and Spring Creek, the water was not running the full length of the creek. It would run from the springs and then stop 50′-100′ or so downstream. Now, everything, including the arroyos, are running. The air is wet and the smell is green, life-filled. There has been a boom of Sierra Chorus frogs, which I’ve not heard in large volume in a few years. This year, it is an incredible performance each day and night. I love it. I hear the toads too, with their deeper, slower chirp. I have seen more blue herons around the area with their easy to spook nature, 6′ wing-span, and dinosaur look. I hear flocks of birds before I see them, 20 to 50 birds flapping in unison overhead. There have been flocks of over 100 birds in the last several months too, weary travelers on their way south, stopping for a good rest, meal and shelter. That they choose this place, that they can find what they need here, makes my heart swell with joy and puts more smile lines on my face, the sign of a life well-lived.

With the running water, I am able to see how the log and rock drop structures are doing. They are working as designed! I am seeing sediment and water pooling up behind the barriers. Yet, the barriers are permeable enough to allow water to more slowly flow downstream. Water is backing up and pooling even well upstream. The longer the water stays back, the more time it has to soak into the soil and the fissures underground. I am so proud of this work. I know the swale pond moisture resulted in the nearest oak having a bumper crop of acorns two years ago when all the other oak trees nearby, or not near a more prolific water source, had less. I will be putting game cameras nearby to see who uses the water source, but I need to figure out more ways to document the impact of this work.

Monitoring and Managing

When projects are done, they still need to be monitored and maintained. The guzzler continues to work as designed. I ensure that the rock and branch pile for small animals to access it is solidly in place. Every now and then I find the pile altered, so I build it back up. With all the rain, the guzzler is more than full. It has been overflowing, which will provide another year of fresh water for wildlife.

Yesterday, I was adding to the brush piles David and I built last year. As wood degrades, small branches need to be added to maintain size and a safe harbor for the animals that make them their home. I quickly built another pile as well. With the large storm coming, I did not want all the smaller oak branches left over from the large oak tree that fell in the creek last winter to be swept downstream. They were perfect for a brush pile; I just did not have time to build one the past few months.

Back and forth, I carried or dragged the branches from the spread pile 40 steps in each direction. It was a great workout. Even in the coolness of this weather, I began to sweat. At the beginning, I looked at the large, spread out pile of branches and wished I had a crew of two more people to help. “Many hands makes light work,” I thought to myself. I greedily looked at my dogs, lounging in the grass, happy, staring out at the beauty. I wondered if I could fashion a harness and have them help me drag the branches. Well, too little thought too late. It was just me there – so I started. An hour later, the entire space was cleared, and the beginning of a brush pile had been started. I felt good for finally getting the work done to make yet another space for birds to make a home.

David is staying on top of mowing the grass this year. Last year, keeping the grass short resulted in many more wildflowers. It also helped with managing the planted areas. This year, we are going to be even more vigilant with weeding and mowing. It is certainly a lot easier to see the plants and straighten the baskets with the grass lower. I also love seeing the diversity of mushrooms that emerge with the moisture. They are such remarkable living things.

It continually shocks me how early the wildflowers arrive. Winters keep getting shorter. There were a few days in January where the temperature went to 71 degrees. Although my cattleman loved it for the grass growth potential, I was horrified. It needs to be cold now so everything can rest. The grass grew, wildflower buds emerged, and there were a large number of bumble bees, native bees and european honey bees.

Cross Fence Complete

After two years of protecting the california milkweed with my body, I finally got the cross fence installed. It has been a huge goal to get this section of the ranch fenced off so that we can manage the grazing more closely. I worked with my cattlemen to determine how we would use the new field, what made sense for his grazing schedule and what my needs were. He had mentioned cross fences several years ago, and that stayed in my memory. If the amount of acreage and timing were right, it could be helpful to his operation and keep the monarchs with their host plants safe from trampling or taste testing. The new field will be very helpful with his aggressive grazing rotation. We will close the gates sometime in March, depending on milkweed and butterfly schedules, and keep them closed until the plants seed in July. He pulls most of the cows off the ranch anyway in May or June to bring them to high country pastures. Ideally, the field will have good quality and quantity of feed for the cattle to return to later in the year. Like anything, we will monitor the situation and adapt the plan as nature and human needs dictate.

Up Next

I will be installing a second guzzler on the east side of the ranch. Both guzzlers will have a larger rainwater catchment system attached to the guzzler tub. Essentially, it is a tank under an overhang with a gutter system and return for water to access the tank. There will be a pipe connected to the guzzler with a float valve to ensure that there is always water available in the guzzler for wildlife. In this way, I am able to provide year-round water without creating a more extensive infrastructure or depending on myself to transport water from tanks at the house all the way to the far side of the ranch.

Of course, planting blue oaks will be a focus this month and next. The planting season for blue oaks is December through April. I hope to get the remaining 19 seedlings into the ground no later than early March. However, those 103 seedlings will be arriving in December 2024. I think I am going to plan a fun tree planting party for December or January 2025 – with good work, food and music. Maybe you will consider joining me? Keep an eye on this blog for more details about how to participate if you are interested.

This is the 97th blog post since I started a large scale focus on habitat. Only three more posts, and it will be the 100th. Admittedly, I look back on the body of work, both physical and written, and am astounded. I can’t believe how much has been accomplished since the start. The work has been transformative – for both plants and person. There will be a celebration and some readers will win organic cotton Pollinative t-shirts. More details on this as we get closer. I hope you will celebrate with me.

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).

Toad-a-palooza. Forward Progress Despite Carnage All Around.

A good friend floats in the basil seedling basin

Despite the ongoing carnage wrought by the grasshoppers, I try to focus on the good things, like the myriad of frogs and toads in the garden. They are so cute to watch, and I know they are eating the grasshoppers. Although there are not enough of them to make a dent in the population of billions, I think the reason the willows and potted plants near the trough are only partially eaten is because Erma and her children live there. Yes, I said children. Guess what I saw…small toads hopping around! Our dear Erma is a mama. Before we get too sentimental, it is important to know that toads eat frogs and that they each eat their own. But…let’s hope each one of them focus on eating the abundant hoppers.

Rock and Log Drops Installed

I am so grateful that the log drop and rock drop structures were finally installed. They were planned in 2021, approved for install in 2022 and finally done in 2023. It took so long, but they are in, and I love them. The idea is to slow runoff from storms so that more moisture seeps into the ground water fractures and stays deep instead of in the first few inches. Secondarily, the rocks will capture sediment to build up to the level of the creek banks over time and become a more lush location for plant life. Keeping sediment from washing downstream also helps to keep the water clean as well as eroding the banks more. There are many benefits, and I am excited to see what they do in next year’s storms.

RCD and Fish & Wildlife Visit

Some of my favorite people came to look at the log and rock drop structures and some of the other projects I have on the ranch. Melinda Barrett from Mariposa County Resource Conservation District and Rosie Gonzalez from Fish & Wildlife were pleased to see the progress being made and some of the benefits of the riparian fencing. After checking out the structures, we explored Odom Creek, Spring Creek and some downstream check dams. I really appreciate their extensive knowledge, so was grateful they were interested in seeing the status and outcomes of some of the practices I have been doing. Flora and fauna are thriving in Odom Creek. There are no grasshoppers in that area of the ranch and plants are still in bloom. We saw abundant California Hairstreak butterflies, Buckeye butterflies, some Red Admiral butterflies and native bees. We saw a doe on the hillside, which is rare even in the more forested midsection of the ranch. I found a narrowleaf milkweed covered by expended thistle that seems to be doing well. I was wrong about what I thought were black oaks. It turns out they were fig trees. They were next to a willow seedling. There was even one fruit on the young tree. We walked to the property line and found abundant watercress. Yum! The water in the creek is still running well. There are many deep pools for animals to propagate, water and soak.

Wanderings

The Pain of Loss

I keep telling everyone that I have turned a corner in my emotionality, that I am not as broken as in years past when the hoppers have brought their deadly visits. I say I have finally put these losses in the category in which they belong, the one that says, “That’s the cycle of life.” In some ways, I have. However, the more I walk amongst the skeletal remains of plants, who were, only a week ago, strong, vibrant and filled with foliage, the more I feel that knot in my stomach. No, I am not crying, but it is because I have shed all the tears I can. The loss of my great grandmother oak in December took all the tears from my body, which has made me numb to all the other sadness that prevails here lately. It is my nature to be happy, so my psyche automatically attempts to buoy itself with the goodness I see – the mass of bumbles, native bees, abundance of toads, frogs, the cooler June, the still flowing water, the running of milkweeds and other native plants. But I also see the back-breaking work, the expense and the hope of help for monarchs all going down the esophagus of the grasshoppers. It isn’t just the plants that are now shriveled sticks, no leaves to turn the sun into energy and joy, that is me too for now.

Bright Sides Despite a Spring Without Butterflies

Looking on the bright side – that has been my reflection for the last month. I have come to terms with the fact that the monarchs skipped me this year. I’ve heard reports from many friends and readers that they have spotted a monarch or had multiples in their gardens. All sightings have been friends/family closer to the coast or higher in elevation. They skipped me. I can’t blame them. It has been very cool here. It seems that many hung out in gardens on the other side of the coast range for days waiting out the weather. Then, they were able to cruise another 100 or so miles, past me, to just up the mountain. Oh well. I am glad they are surviving and making their journey.

Maybe they will stop on the way back – or next year.

We have so much gorgeous milkweed – at least four different species – narrowleaf, ca milkweed, showy and woolly pod. They are all healthy, strong and growing well. I thought, “Well, maybe someone will get some use from them”. We have had only a handful of butterflies, which I mentioned and identified in my last post. I’ve seen just one other since, a painted lady (I think – since they flit so fast). No butterflies…but…something else just as exciting – bumble bees, and almost 30 of them at one time!

I believe this is a bee hole. Note the constructed sleeve

As I have reported in a past blog, bumble bees are in decline. They are ground nesters and susceptible to disturbances in soil movement. Pesticides and herbicides also account for their decline. Something else I noticed, when the sage was in full bloom, and attracting all types of pollinators, the European honey bees seemed to gang up on the less numerous bumbles and push them away. While they found another flower to harvest from, it made me wonder if all the bee boxes everywhere aren’t causing some problems. My neighbor two parcels south always has a person drop over 30 hives each year for several months. I love honey, and honeybees, but as with anything, scale is critical to consider as we think about policy and our own choices about how we steward land. I have a rogue honeybee hive in a nearby creek too that I love to visit. There is something marvelous about a group of animals that escape their human serving bonds in an effort to become wild, and live on their own terms. It is about living in balance; we all need one another to thrive. It is a partnership, a relationship that is multi-directional, not ones’ needs more than another. We must respect one another to make things work for all of us. Again, it is all about scale.

Not only are the bumbles using the blooms, I’ve seen more tarantula hawks than ever flying around, enjoying milkweed (and other) blooms.

A tarantula hawk finds something interesting on one of the spent flowers

The tarantula hawks are big, with a long nose, deep black coloration, a large abdomen with stinger and small (as compared to their body size) orange wings. As I was walking the ranch, they seemed to be everywhere I went. When they fly close to you, you pay close attention. They are not aggressive, but can sting humans if provoked. I have heard from others around here that their sting is extremely painful. I pay them much respect. Their name holds a grim tale for one of my favorite creatures on the ranch, the tarantula. If you want to learn more, this Natural History Museum site seems a credible source.

Bad News: Grasshoppers

It is a horrendous year for grasshoppers. They are not yet fully grown and have caused significant, heartbreaking destruction. Sixty percent of the Xerces plants I painstakingly planted have been eaten. Some are making a come-back, but they will not stand a chance. All I can hope for is that their roots were strong enough to return next year. Fortunately, some of the early blooming nectar plants already grew, bloomed and seeded. So far, all the new Xerces milkweed has remained untouched. I don’t hold out hope that they will be spared. The hoppers ate the Ca Milkweed down to sticks the year before last.

The hoppers are also shredding my existing, mature plants. They murdered three of the four big leaf maples last year. Only one emerged with leaves, and sadly, will likely be finished off this year. The sages that are further from the house have been mangled as was the buddleia. The further from the house, the more decimation there is. They are plague level. While there are natural predators all around, there are not enough to keep them in control. A friend at the Tribe told me that their ancestors used to use fire to round them up and eat them. I am thinking about starting a grasshopper farming operation. Insect food is the trend for the future!

I began collecting seed pods from several of the plants so that the hoppers did not eat them before they could spread. You can see in some of the photos below, the hoppers are already taking a bite into the seed pods. Fortunately, the pods are the last of the plant they will eat, which gives them time to mature and me time to collect them. The Ca Milkweed is critical.

Good News: Milkweed Spreading

Another “bright side” is that many of the older milkweeds are beginning to spread. It has taken four years, but they are established. For Xerces and Ca Wildlife Board (via Mariposa County Resource Conservation District), funders of my increased scale for planting, this is a great return on investment. I know I will have nectar plants with the prescribed grazing and riparian exclusion during blooming times, but previously, milkweed was much rarer on the ranch. Now, through these investments, milkweed is established in greater numbers and places on this rangeland…and they are doing it without supplemental water. This is a huge win for pollinators, since rare bumblebees seem to love the flowers as well as monarchs.

Maintaining Habitat

Most of the work I do is not as exciting as planting new, healthy plants. It is straightening gopher baskets, re-piling rocks, checking water, fixing fence, cutting grass and limiting or removing invasives – among many other things. The cool weather has given me the opportunity to work longer and more hours into the season to get things done. Recently, I checked the wildlife guzzler. It is still filled with water, though it has decreased a bit. There is evidence of birds using it. The cows knocked down the panels, and the calves can get in, so the rock and branch ramp to the guzzler was disturbed. I re-piled the stones and branches so that smaller creatures have access the guzzler. I also cleaned out some leaf material from the water.

Another not real sexy task is removing seed heads and flowers from the thistle. With the rains, it has really taken off this year. I have had to travel away from the ranch several times this spring, which has meant that the thistle has already bloomed, and some are already gone to seed. Dressed in my canvas overalls and rose gloves, I took out probably 300 heads from the creek out of a million. It is important to use a thick plastic bag that seals. Thistle is so sharp, it can slice through a regular plastic bag and release the seeds you worked so hard to prevent from spreading. For this effort, I used an empty dog food bag with a Velcro closure. It worked great. While I was cutting off bloom and seed heads, I saw a bumble using the thistle blooms. It made me feel slightly better for being so derelict in my responsibilities. At least in those areas, there will be a few thousand less chances for spread.

Befriending a Toad

There have had been many frogs and toads around the ranch. While I have not seen many of the small tree frogs (that used to hang out on the doors and windows) in the last 15 years, I have seen several toads near the house each year (maybe that is why I don’t see the small frogs). Amphibians are remarkable animals. They live in and out of water and eat a significant number of insects per day. I am particularly grateful to the toads. They eat grasshoppers, and I have one lovely lady that is protecting my medicine and tea plant area. Her name is Erma (pronounced Air-d-ma, the Spanish way, but I linger on the “air” part trying to make it sound like a “ribit”.). I think she has been in that same location for several years as she can burrow in the ground to avoid dry conditions for quite some time. The area Erma is occupying is watered regularly with rainwater I collected over the winter. There is also a trough in that section I keep half filled with rain water. I still have two Xerces willows in pots in the trough. Their roots are extensive. The leaf cutter bees seem to love their leaves, so I kept a couple at the house instead of planting them in the creek. Erma loves soaking in the trough. I find her clinging to the willow roots or just on the escape ramp, her eyes and nostrils barely out of the water. She is so beautiful.

In years past, the toads would defecate on the patio. Their poo is quite large and slimy, as you might imagine. I have not seen any poop on the patio for a few years. Erma, it seems, prefers to poo in the water trough. Even though fresh water is added daily, it became a creamy jade green with floaters. Ick, I know. I wasn’t sure if I should clean out the trough, or if she preferred it, um…highly organic. I believe, for my elevation, it is beyond the breeding time. I did not see any tadpoles when the water was less green, so decided to dump the water.

What an effort. I have rocks in the bottom for habitat and to create various depths. No way was I able to lift it, not even David is strong enough, and I did not want to tip it and disturb Erma. That meant I had to use a bucket to bail the water out to a level where it could be lifted. What a messy muck. The water would splash up hitting my face and clothes. Then, I would walk it over to a planted area, bucket full, to release the load. I was thinking that dispersed, these nutrients would be good for the plants and soil. Back and forth, I walked bucket sloshing with the green goop. David sat at the patio table, feet kicked up on another chair, coffee in hand, enjoying the “zen” of my repetitive movement. I don’t mind him watching me work. I enjoy the company. It was a beautiful morning. Finally, I was near the bottom. David put his coffee down and helped me take the trees out, move the rocks and pots away from the site. We lifted the trough to the other end of the patio where I dumped the rest. I rinsed the rocks, escape ramp and roots of the muck. The trough was replaced, and everything put back. With newly rinsed buckets, I began walking back and forth from the south rainwater tank refilling the trough. It was done. All the while, Erma was watching me from her spot under the sage in the dirt. Her throat was pulsing as she stared, which is not something I see her do often. I don’t know if that meant she was happy, anxious or just digesting some bug. No matter, she will have a fresh trough of water for her soaking…and pooing enjoyment.

If you want to learn more, here is an interesting citizen science resource I found that covers amphibians. From this site, there are other credible links to official resources.

Erma hanging out in the green muck before cleaning

Blooms Continue

One of the keys to high quality habitat is to have plants that bloom throughout the year. Currently in bloom are buckwheat, sage, lavender, showy milkweed, sunflowers, primrose, yarrow, verbena, gum weed, salvia, Mexican sunflower, and I just found one black-eyed susan. In the creek, the yellow flowers are still in bloom – and of course, thistle. On deck is more sunflowers, buddleia (if the hoppers don’t get it first), narrowleaf milkweed and golden rod. These all have unopened buds.

Excluded Riparian Areas Doing Well

The Odom Creek riparian area excluded from grazing this year is continuing to do great. The black oak and cotton wood seedlings that showed up last year are thriving. There is plenty of yellow flowers in the Spring Creek. Both are still running, but Odom is big and still cold from snow melt. Walking near it you feel the temperature change. You also feel humidity from the evaporation. David found small frogs hopping in the creek and burrowed in the dirt. A young redtail reprimanded us for entering her domain. The mass of rushing water really changed things on the creek. It opened up some of the more narrow upstream passages. I don’t see the massive narrowleaf milkweed, or any of the other milkweed I found last year. The water may have rushed the roots away. There is a massive pile of sand and rock deposited from the storms. Maybe something new and good was brought downstream. I did see many datura and found some vinigarweed beginning to grow (Love that stuff!). Generally, all of the oaks have never looked better. Their leaves are full and deep green. The blue oak seedlings in the exclosures are continuing to do well. Gads, they grow so slow though!

Unusual Visitor

When David and I arrived back home the other day and let the dogs out, a little piglet emerged from the north water tank area. I think she saw our chubby lab Beatrix and thought it was its mom. We were in shock. This has never happened in the 21 years we’ve been here. Immediately, we began looking around for mama pig. Wild pigs are extremely large and intelligent. The last thing we wanted to do was get in between a mom and her baby. David, being the sweet giant he is, immediately went into the house, cut up an apple and tried to give it to the baby. It charged him, and he gave up. I said, “Let’s just leave it alone. Mom is either watching us right now, or she left it because there is something wrong with it.” I thought about what I might do if it was orphaned, and decided I would let nature take its course. They are non-native after all. We went into the house. When we came back out 15 minutes later, it was gone.

Sows (female pigs) leave their drove (or herd) to have their babies. We found the area where it appeared the large mother bedded down. I don’t know if she birthed her babies close to the house, but it seems she felt safe enough obscured in the tall grass, David had yet to cut, to have her family close by us dogs and humans. I take that as a compliment. Wild pigs are non-native and very destructive to the ground (If you look at an early blog post “Wild Pig Attack”, you will see how they ripped up one of my first pollinator plots.). However, it is a privilege and wonder to see anything as unique as this.

Planting Seeds for the Months Ahead

I spent the morning the other day cleaning up, repotting, and planting seeds in the seed tray. I seeded marigolds, black-eyed susan, coneflower, and road-side sunflowers. I also put in some seeds for my garden – spinach, tomato, basil, carrot, radish and dill. I have been eating out of the garden -lettuce, arugula, peas, chives, mint and onion – and want to continue through the summer. I planted a lot of basil. My sister enjoys making pesto, and I greatly enjoy eating it. I plan to bring her the 18 seedlings for her cooking pleasure.

Wanderings

Bright sides. This September, it will be four years since I began this habitat journey. I will save my full reflections for an anniversary post, but, despite the heartbreaks, stickers, and injuries, this ride has been one of the best things I have done with my abilities. I have learned incredible things. One is to chill out and look on the bright side. This spring we have not had many raptors, which is highly unusual. In fact, it has never been that way in the open grassland part of the ranch. The sky has has never seen a day without a red tail. My ears have captured the bouncing chords of p-eee-ahh, p-eee-ahh and brought them inside my head, and then to my heart, every day. There is a family that lives on the hill. They soar with their babies about now, in threes and sometimes fours, if one from the previous year makes it home. My ranch is named after them…Taawe Bwia, or land of the hawk, in my native language. Where are all the taawim (hawks)?

During the deluge this past winter, the drops turned to torrents, cascading downhill, filling every hole and then coming out every hole, spiraling, like eddys, when in the flats. I remember seeing air bubbles coming from the holes. I thought it was from the energy of the movement. But, maybe it was from what lived below.

As I look back on the blog posts, the imprints of my memories, thoughts and emotions, I see much disdain for the underground relatives, the gophers, moles and voles. Whatever was taking down my plants – I resented. While I always respected their right to live, to have families and feed their families, just as I do, I was still distraught. All the work, the expense, the hopes and desperation I had packaged in my heart, my singular focus on doing my part to help the monarchs survive, it blocked my senses, the whispers from my ancestors, telling me u betuku bwia weweriam, empo Heather hikkaha. Hikkaha (The under land relatives, Heather you listen. Listen.). Last year, I began to hear. I made peace. I remembered that they are aerating the land, allowing water to go deep to roots, allowing other creatures, like bees and snakes to have homes when they are not there. They are teaching me what belongs and at what scale. They are helping me access soil so I don’t have to dig, and they are bringing in yo’oem (my ancestors), the hawks to me. They give their lives for Taawe. The gophers have been so generous, and I have been so ignorant. Without them, their size and numbers, Taawe cannot be here – and that is a tragedy. Taawe eats mice, lets me know to be alert when something is passing through, reminds me how we are connected to above and below, and reminds me that I am seen, even when I think I am alone someplace or in my mind’s space. I am part of something.

Today, as I walked among the yarrow that is finally spreading beyond the cages, I saw a bloom wiggle, then drop. A crunch, crunch. Another wiggle, then drop more, then one more time and crunch, crunch. I did not try to interfere. I did not growl. A slight smile crossed my face. I said, “Take what you need.”

Taawe will be home soon.