Natural History Journal

The rain is falling, the wind is blowing, and on a day like today, I am (for once) content to be indoors.  The storm is doing a number on the autumn leaves, which are fluttering wildly down from trees to lay in thick tapestries of color on the wet earth.  We've had several weeks of glorious color, trees ablaze in crimson and gold, and I have happily followed the progression of autumn from the golden quaking aspens of the high Sierra, through the magical scarlet dogwoods of mid-elevations, all the way down to the mellow-hued riparian willows and riotous colors of introduced ornamental trees which grace neighborhoods of the Central Valley. But now, with Thanksgiving leftovers [hopefully] gone and sodden leaves blanketing the ground to become next year's mulch, it's time to turn our attention to the winter season and all it entails: sparkling snow in the Sierra, mysterious tule fog in the Valley, stalwart conifers and their intricately beautiful cones, resplendent red berrie

The light was fading, the temperature dropping, and the visitor center restrooms were closed at the very worst time restrooms could be closed.  We had been in the car for quite some time, and I had been counting on these restrooms. My traveling companions were in no hurry to leave the breathtaking Mono Lake overlook and Mono Basin National Forest Scenic Area Visitor Center  (the official, lengthy title), despite its unfortunate and very definite status as "closed."  I, on the other hand, had been there before.  Restlessly I told myself I'd seen all the sights, read all the signs, etc. etc., and was impatient as only a woman in dire need of a restroom can be.  My husband kindly scoured the map for an alternative stopping place, and eventually our group piled back into the car.  Shifting into drive, I hurriedly left the deserted parking area, bound for relief elsewhere. It was at that moment, leaving the visitor center parking lot on an otherwise empty road through Grea

Fall is not exactly peak wildflower season.  Most of us have our hopes set on brilliant fall foliage this time of year, while simultaneously peering beyond to the hints of a wintery wonderland and snowy pines just on the horizon.  But California's seasons are unique, due to its Mediterranean climate, and even during this quiet season of senescence, a few flowers are still blooming along the coast. Seaside daisy ( Erigeron glaucus ), pictured above and below, is a hardy perennial at home on the dunes and cliffs up and down California's rugged coast.  These beautiful little daisies are also excellent plants for a low-water native garden, and are commonly available at nurseries that sell native plants. Coastal weather in the fall is often sunny and clear - ideal for strolling along the winding pathways that lead from Monterey, around Point Pinos and south to Asilomar State Beach.  This two or three mile stretch is just about one of my favorite walks anywhere! Pictur