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Mt. Baldy
Environmental Education |
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GROWING UP FOREST WISE Mt. Baldy Environmental Education offers programs for every age and for every season
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Signs of the Seasons30 AUGUST 2005 Rick and I took a little stroll along the dike south of the bridge and saw the largest Tarantula Hawks we'd ever encountered on the scalebroom which is just beginning to bloom. On the four-point Sting Pain Index, these giant wasps score at the top. They have iridescent-blue bodies and red-orange wings, the females have curly antennae while the males are mostly straight.
24 AUGUST 2005 Watching birds on the ridgeline I see distinctive colors backlit by the sun which make identification easy even though the birds are faraway: the red tail of a hawk, the salmon-red wings of a flicker, the thick whitish tail band of a pigeon, the white wing patches of the acorn woodpecker. Following Bear Creek through the Village, I come across a vision so stunning, I call this the best butterfly day ever. The stream is lined with red valerian, also called Jupiter's beard from the profuse, plumed seeds some of which have already formed. Dozens and dozens of Pale Swallowtail butterflies feast on the nectar of this plant, a beautiful contrast in color, the cream-and-black butterflies against the deep rose pink of the valerian. Cabbage butterflies with yellow underwings, painted ladies, golden-colored skippers and a Coronis Fritillary all take part in this banquet as well. A family of Mountain Quail parade through the undergrowth and a Ground Squirrel dashes across the stream. I marvel at the beauty of it all.
22 AUGUST 2005 In Bear Creek water still flows merrily down the stream this wet year. With such steep walls shaded by tall trees, little sun penetrates the deep cut of the canyon this time of day. An early Black-throated Gray Warbler gleans insects in the canyon oak. A frisky, noisy colony of Acorn Woodpeckers inhabits Old Glory, the largest bigcone spruce. Band-tailed pigeons flutter their wings in the sky and coo in the distance. Stephanomerias, particularly the blue-leaved, purple-flowered chicory kind, provide the most color with California aster gearing up for a later show. I sense the heat building up toward midday. Wafts of hot air descend the slope in open areas and penetrate the shade like opening an oven door in the dark. The dried grasses smell like fresh hay. The bay trees give off an envigorating perfume. Update on the pond: Nothing alive but four fat frisky mosquito fish. No wrigglers, no beetles, no swimmers. The pollen has sunk to the bottom. Dry brown sprays of incense-cedar float on top. 15 AUGUST 2005 Two Nuttall's Woodpeckers in the canyon live oaks at the beginning of the Icehouse Canyon trail played catch-me-if-you-can crawling up the tree trunk, their black-and-white striped backs blending well with the shadows on the trees. SIX white-breasted, rufous-backed Canyon Wrens in one mile, four together in the first spot and two much farther up but separate, called from perches on top of boulders as they bounced from rock to rock and dived for cover in the spaces in-between. One dark gray southern Pacific rattlesnake slithered across the trail at the nettle patch. The weird thing today was the weather. Driving up, there was very dense fog. Lights needed. Pace a crawl following the center yellow line and the white boundary line. Fifteen minutes later in Icehouse Canyon the cumulus were forming overhead and I heard thunder in the distance. The trail was pockmarked from overnight hail and the rocks had puddles on them. 11 AUGUST 2005 It all started one sweltering day when the gray squirrels followed Steve around while he was watering. They were drinking the drips from the hose and sipping at the puddles. One squirrel was so hot it splayed out in the water. Steve left the faucet in the pond dripping a bit to fill the bottom about three inches and draining enough to keep the water from rising any higher. First thing that happened was the surface became speckled with yellow from all the pollen drifting off the deodar cedars. Next came the wrigglers. Then the mosquito fish. A little girl got so excited at seeing the little fish. Oh, a fishie, oh, look at the fishes! Next time I came up there were water striders and beetles. All around in the trees were Steller's jays, at least three at once, young ones whose bills and crests are not as large as the adults, a small flock of starlings, some house sparrows, chickadees calling in trees above, mourning doves pecking at the grass seeds on the ground below. 4 AUGUST 2005 July's flowers have turned to August's seeds. No need for brilliant hues now, no need to advertise to insects, the prevailing color of the seedheads is buff. Creamy California everlasting seedheads sprinkle the slopes like clusters of polka dots. Virgin's bower drapes over the sumac like fuzzy balls on a string. Waves of flaxen wild oats sparkle on the verges, while tall beige stalks of giant needlegrass hang out over the cliffs swaying in the breeze of a passing car. California buckwheat in full bloom, some of the white masses already turning pinkish-orange, attracts myriads of insects. Chamise flowers dried to a warm caramel look particularly lovely on the slope leading down from Cow Canyon Saddle.
Buff, in the sense of polished, blazing star greets the morning sun, a gift for early risers. The large, lustrous lemon-yellow flowers close by noon. Blazing star loves disturbed areas like roadcuts, landslides. Like the blazing star, I, too, close down at noon, not wanting to be operating on "steam" power in the hot and humid weather typical of this time of year. |
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Mt. Baldy Visitor Center, P.O. Box 592, Mt. Baldy, CA 91759 Phone (909) 982-2829 (visitor information), (909) 982-2879 (education staff), FAX: (909) 931-7130
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Brian the Bighorn says: "Don't be sheepish. Come by and visit!"
