Zim Zim Falls 2023

With my "Island" project behind me, and yardwork "kind of" caught up on, I decided to make a break for the hills and do some exploring at one of my favorite hiking spots which I was introduced to by my dad years ago.  It is about an hour-and-a-half drive, winding up into the hills and alongside Lake Berryessa (a major reservoir that supplies Solano County), to it's North-most point, where Zim Zim Creek feeds into it.  The hike is, I think, about 6 or 7 miles total and usually there is nobody else out there, or perhaps one other person, in my experience, so that is pretty cool.  On top of that, it is an absolutely gorgeous area with a pretty big waterfall.  It was so exciting to see this place in the middle of Spring after a wet winter.  Often times I tend to go there in Winter, it seems, and that is nice.  But this was like another dimension!  (A math teacher in high school once told us that Time is the 4th dimension, and that seems like a fitting way to think about how drastically altered one location can be at different times of year, and in different rainfall years).  It had sprinkled a little rain that morning, but the sun was out and it was a warm and humid day.  

Flowers abounded!

Buckle up, flower fans. . . 

Scorpion Weed (Phacelia sp.):

Unidentified daisy

Silverpuffs (Uropappus lindleyi) were everywhere

 

Tidy Tips (Layia Platyglossa) were ever-so chipper and well-kempt, lining the path invitingly:

Not a flower, but rather an exploded stem of some annual plant, dried up from the previous season.

A beautiful day . . .

A spider's web caught the morning rain.

I rounded a bend in the path and was confronted by a sea of deep purple!  At first I thought they were lupine, as there were many lupine in bloom, but then I realized they were a type of delphinium (aka larkspur).  I stood there, slack-jawed, in awe, probably looking like a complete dork, scratching my chin trying to think how to capture the beauty in a picture, when suddenly a woman appeared on the trail behind me and I had to compose myself momentarily.  She was friendly and excited to be out on the trail and headed for the Falls.  She was the only other person on the trail that day.

Larkspur

There was also a little swath of taller delphinium, looking similar to the kind sold in the horticulture trade.  I wondered if these were a naturalized non-native... I will have to look into that.
I spotted one white one amidst all the blues.

Who spilled paint all over the place?!?

Much of the "paint" spread over the hillsides consisted of vetch, a legume, member of the pea family, similar to flowering sweet peas that are an old-fashioned favorite of the home gardener.  I knew that photographing this entrancing purple shade would be futile, but I tried anyways... Maybe a little man-made focal point, such as this rusted old trough, would help the color pop?

Or maybe a little contrast from the ever-amusing oak trees with their interesting shapes and fallen limbs...

Two of the most abundant flowers out that day: Vetch and Ithuriel's Spear (Triteleia laxa), a member of the Asparagaceae family which grows from bulbs and goes dormant by summer time.  The bulbs were an important food source for Indiginous people.

Ithuriel's Spear:

A white morph of the purple vetch

A different species of vetch

Speaking of legumes, vetch was not the only Fabaceae (botanist lingo for "legume") out in force.  Lupines and clovers also were going off:

Pink, white, and yellow Lupine... (although, I think the white may have just been another morph, not it's typical color).  I think these types of lupine are called "Chick Lupine"?:

Lupine

A smaller species of lupine

This lupine was growing a bit higher up, right by the Falls

A massive colony of yellow lupine adorning this eroding bank along Zim Zim Creek

I am guessing this, too, is a lupine.  It was quite small.

And also in the Fabaceae family, a pretty little Rose Clover (Trifolium hirtum).

Another clover, with a curious appearance.  Bull Clover (Trifolium fucatum), a native to California and Oregon.  The flowers inflate as they mature.  The leaves of clovers were another important food source for indigenous people (maybe the seeds too?  I'm not sure.)

It was nice to see some milkweed popping up.  There are many species throughout North America, and the world.  There are a dozen or so native to California, and they are the host plants for the Monarch butterfly's larva to hatch on and feed on.

Wine Cup Clarkia (Clarkia purpurea)

Chinese Houses (Colinsia heterophylla) named for it's tiers of flowers, somewhat resembling a tiered pagoda:

A handsome little grass.  iNaturalist says it is Bulbous Bluegrass (Poa bulbosa)

And a handsome little beetle doing important beetle stuff in this Yerba Santa flower.

The second half of the hike begins a little ascent into a more dry, rocky hillside microclimate, rather than the creekside meadows of the first half.  Here is where the Falls are first visible.  They were gushing pretty good!

...and looking back the way I came:

My curiosity was piqued by these extra-long and wiggly-stemmed blooms, somewhat resembling the common wildflower called "Blue Dicks" (short for Dichelostemma, the botanical name for the genus):

Well, it turns out these funny flowers are indeed one of four species of Dichelostemma.  They are Dichelostemma volubile, aka "Twining Snake Lily"!  Pretty awesome discovery for me.  Their unique growth habit of emerging from their underground corms and extending a leafless stem 3 to 5 feet, often winding around larger plants as a way to hold themselves up high for pollinators, made them very photogenic:

Approaching the falls . . .

There were a lot of interesting plants in this area, such as Diogenes' Lantern (Calochortus amabile, which translates to "lovable, beautiful grass"):

I'm hoping I can time a return visit to collect the mature seeds of these guys and some other flowers.

The always-stunning Indian Paintbrush (Castilleja sp.):

New growth of Scrub Oak and a pretty little grass seedhead.

Little stream lined with Seep Monkeyflower (Mimulus guttatus) and California Poppy (Eschschlolzia californica)

Fringed Checkerbloom (Sidalcea diploscypha), a member of the mallow family, Malvaceae:

Yet another white morph of a flower that is typical a different color, a white Ithuriel's Spear (Triteleia laxa).

Descending to the falls, I spotted this Checkerspot butterfly, not sure exactly what species (Euphydryas sp.)

A lovely peach-colored species of Indian Paintbrush (Castilleja)

I was scanning the area for a good lunch spot.  Apparently, a squirrel found this rock a suitable place to enjoy some Grey Pine seeds.

Yes, I think this spot will do just fine for my sandwich-consumption venue.

Oh!  Hello.

Apparently the common name for this one is "Most Beautiful Jewelflower" (Streptanthus glandulosus ssp. glandulosus):

Western Spicebush (Calycanthus occidentalis) getting ready to bloom.  Another in-"scent"-ive to revisit this hike soon!

What's this funny little geophyte?  I have no clue!

I think this was the exact moment I got my poison oak rash on my arm, trying to get a photograph of this Bee Plant (Scrophularia californica) which lay on the other side of a thicket of the poison.  This Scrophularia had really brilliant scarlet flowers.  I have a scrophularia that I started from seed with different colored flowers growing very happily in my yard, and would love to gather some seeds from this specimen when they are mature.  But I will have to be very careful if I do.

Lunch time over, I began my ascent back up toward the main trail to start heading back.

There were some gorgeous Canyon Live-Forever (Dudleya cymosa) in bloom, especially loving this rock outcropping:

On the same sunny slope adjacent to the falls, there was also Chaparral Clematis (Clematis lasiantha), a vining member of the Ranunculaceae family:

Back on the main trail and this quail sentry had his eye on me, making sure I didn't pose a threat to his "bevy" (that's the word for a group of quail--I just looked it up).  Quail make me think of Grandma Williams.  I think she had a particular fondness for them?  Who couldn't, really--they are adorable!

Along the path there was a patch of Chia (Salvia columbariae), the seeds of which were used by indigenous people as a food source, to make porridge, mush, cakes, and many other things.  Hopefully I can find some viable seed for these on a return trip.  These specimens are all in the process of dehiscing (going to seed), so their actual flowers, which are a light blue/lavender color, have already fallen off:

Pincushion plant (Chaenactis sp.)?

Chaenactis with Ithuriel's Spear

Dainty little nightshade of some sort.

I always look for this one Currant bush that is by the bank of Zim Zim Creek.  It had just a couple little flowers on it this time.  I love the fragrance of its leaves and have used them in brewing beer before.

Longhorn Seablush (Plectritis macrocera)

Unknown seedhead

Sticky Cinquefoil (Drymocallis glandulosa), a member of the rose family, Rosaceae, like strawberries, which have similar-looking flowers. 

A species of Ceanothus in bloom near the trailhead.

Well, that about wraps it up for this floral odyssey!

It was a spectacular day with many first-time plant identifications for me.  It was extremely peaceful.  I love immersing myself in nature and just soaking it all in, and I had a lot of fun photographing.  

Like I mentioned, I hope to return in a couple weeks or so to see how things have changed, what is blooming as the season progresses and the soil dries out and things heat up more.  And hopefully I can gather seed from some of the plants I saw blooming on this visit and try growing them at home.

Thanks for tuning in!

California Newt (Taricha torosa) puts one foot in front of the other.  No slope is too steep to deter this little trailblazer.

Island of the Sun

I am excited to have finally landscaped this 15 ft. diameter circle in the middle of my driveway.  It is a hot spot in the summer, fully exposed to the Sun until maybe about 4:00 when a nearby Live Oak and Atlas Cedar start to cast some shade.  I wanted to plant it with extremely drought-tolerant specimens that I wouldn't have to worry about keeping watered (although, as you'll see, I did plant a citrus in there--that will be the one plant needing regular water, but it should thrive in the warmth, getting all that radiative heat from the asphalt).

Anyway, I had been wanting to do this for a long time.  The soil there was very poor and clay-like.  All that was growing there were some oregano and narcissus bulbs that my great aunt and uncle Freda & Marven must have planted decades ago.  As well as a large shrub which I didn't recognize and a couple salvias and a few other things that I had planted.  I dug up and saved what I could, replanting most of the plants.

This is my Before picture, although I had already dug up the pre-existing plants and begun loosening the top layer of soil in preparation for a delivery of soil conditioner that will help improve the drainage and break up the clay...

5 cubic yards of soil--woohooo!

I methodically worked my way from the middle to the edge of the circle, digging a little trench and "shaving" off layers of clay-soil with my shovel, mixing in the fresh conditioner as I went along.  This was day 1's progress.

The two outdoor cats I have taken under my wing, Angus and Dartanian, LOVED their new playground!

I spent about 3 weekends digging.  I "double dug" the area, which is a method where you dig a hole, move that soil aside, and then dig another layer deeper, making your way in that fashion.  The hardpan clay was about 18" down and felt almost like sculptor's clay--terrible for plant roots to grow in.  I wanted to make sure the area was really well prepared so the plants would flourish.  You only get one chance to really thoroughly amend your soil before planting, so I wanted to do it right.  I am proud to announce that my back did not give out on me!  I have been making a point to stretch regularly and do some basic core exercises and it has really paid off this Spring.

I was nearing the end of my soil-prep phase when I had the unfortunate experience of finding a dead deer in my yard... It seemed a few days since it had died, and there was a vulture beginning to eat it.  I saw no apparent injuries, so I didn't have any clues as to its cause of death.
I decided that since I already had dug a massive hole, I may as well keep it local and give the deer a proper burial, rather than call animal control.  I made this extra-deep deer-shaped hole in the center of the island.  I used a tarp to drag the body and also threw some lime on it, which I read would prevent odor.

The next morning, look who was on top of the barn, warming their wings up and looking for their unfinished meal. . .

The soil amendment phase finally completed, I got to start on the fun part!  I made a little improvised retaining wall about 2 feet high at the lower end of the circle (the driveway is on a slant).  I used pieces of reclaimed cinder block that I had around.  Since I am planting some plants that are acclimated to drought and living on slopes, this raised mound will be good for them, ensuring that their roots don't get smothered and oversaturated with water in the rainy season, which could lead to disease and rot.

And then the even more fun part: planting!
In the foreground is an unusual species of manzanita called Arctostaphylos gabilanensis with blue-green leaves.  Behind it and to the right are four Octopus Agaves and three White Sage.  There are a couple little purplish-colored aloes in there too.  On the left, in the 15 gallon can, is a Blood Orange tree, which I am very excited to be growing.  There is one by the bowling alley near my house and in the winter I collect the fallen fruit.  I thought it would be nice to grow my own.

More progress... this is just about at the finished stage.  I laid those slabs of ceramic down so that on hot summer days, one could recline back on them under the shade of the blood orange tree... we'll see how comfortable that turns out, or not!
Wire cages are in place to ensure deer don't destroy the plants before they have a chance to get established.  I anticipate removing these cages after a few months, hopefully.  I also brushed some cayenne pepper powder on some of the uncaged plants, just to send a clear message to the wildlife that this area is not a salad bar.

I use some decaying wood to stabilize the sides of the mound while the soil settles.  Also, buried wood is a good way to retain moisture, I think... sort of a half-assed hugelkulture (a method where twigs and logs are buried beneath the planting bed to create extra soil life and moisture retention, as well as just breaking up the clay soil).

That little green and red succulent in the middle of that pile of rocks is a Dudleya farinosa that I grew from seed collected on a hike.  Dudleyas are native succulents that are adapted to living on rocky cliffs and receiving no summer water.  Their common name is "Live-forever" due to their long lifespan and hardiness in the wild.  I hope it does well in this spot!
On the right is an "Old Man of Peru" cactus.
The cow skull was a gift from my Dad and Gail.  I think it adds a nice focal point to the landscaping.  I also liked how the sand makes a more desert-like effect.

Here are three madrones.  Two grown from seed (kinda hard to see, but they are there), and one purchased at a nursery (the tall one).  I have read that madrones are difficult to plant, often succumbing to fungal disease.  A few strategies I read about to mitigate this risk are 1) good soil drainage, of course 2) planting at the right stage, before the plants are too mature 3) collecting soil from a mature specimen and adding that to the planting hole to inoculate it with the beneficial myccorhizae (fungi) that work in symbiosis with madrones, and 4) keeping them in the same directional orientation while in their containers and in the ground.  Oh, and also 5) "Plant 3 if you want 1!".  So, I did all these things... hopefully I have success with at least one of them.  Madrones are one of California's most majestic plant species, in my opinion.  They are like tall tree versions of manzanitas, with silky smooth orange trunks that squiggle their way up toward the sun.

Octopus agaves on the left.  A big white sage at the top (native to Southern California, highly aromatic, loved by bees, and also used ceremonially by burning "smudge sticks" of the leaves).  And on the right is another species of Dudleya succulent that I purchased from work.  I planted it in the eye socket of another one of the cow skulls from Dad and Gail.  We'll see if it likes that situation--fingers crossed!

I planted about 20 native milkweed plants (Asclepias fascicularis) throughout the Eastern-facing side of the mound.  I grew these from seed after learning that this particular native milkweed species is apparently the most popular choice for the Monarch butterflies to lay their eggs on, in our region.  Previously, I had grown Showy Milkweed (Asclepias speciosa) and never had any Monarch butterflies interested in it.  I am excited to see how these ones grow and if they attract butterflies.  They should be very drought tolerant as well (they're called a "weed" for a reason!)

Bird's eye view

In foreground there is a Mangave hybrid I bought called "Lavender Lady".  I couldn't resist it's purple rosette.  It should tie in nicely with the purplish aloes planted nearby.
Behind that there is a Silver Dollar Eucalyptus.  Branches of this plant are common in floral arrangements because of their interesting bluish silver-dollar-shaped leaves.  I don't know what to expect as far as the mature height of this plant.  I may have to end up removing it if it grows too rampantly, we'll see. . .

Fabiana imbricata, a native to the dry slopes of Chile and Argentina.  This fascinating-looking plant is, believe it or not, in the tomato family, Solanaceae!  It should love this sunny spot on a raised mound, perhaps reaching up to 8 feet tall and becoming covered in these tubular little flowers in Spring.

That's a wrap!

It was a big undertaking for me, right in the middle of the Spring rush (at work, and also in my yard), but I am happy I went for it, finally.  I stare lovingly at the Island of the Sun as I pass by it daily.  I came across that name for it in listening to a podcast about Inca history.  I am curious to do more research on it, but apparently that was the name given to some islands in the middle of the high-altitude Lake Titicaca.  It seemed fitting!

Sunday Snapshots

My good friend Eddie was in town to celebrate his birthday, hooray!  After a night of pizza and movie trivia (which I am quite poor at), we did a little hike up to Lake Marie in Skyline Park.  It was a beautiful day.  I didn't take very many pictures.  Just a few:

Trillium

Gooseberry

Cloud

Back at home, Dartanian with a toupee