Melica - a graceful grass.

This is a graceful grass. I hope you agree that the contrasting colors on the flower are rather attractive.

Melica is the genus, but I'm unsure of the species. I have it narrowed down to a few but I guess I'm too lazy to key it out. I can appreciate it already without knowing everything about it -- exactly what it is called -- but I fully admit this is only justification of my lazy botany habits. I do plan to fully figure it out, but this may not happen for a while.

"Melic" means melodious in Greek. Most of the members of this genus have the common name "onion grass." I don't understand either name.

Melica sp., Marin, March 2013.

I found this individual growing next to a GGNRA fire road that is about a 20-minute walk from our place. We're lucky to have open space so close. We are nestled in a valley that probably once had a great deal of this grass growing here. I am not certain, but I think that ecologists believe it is being usurped by the similar Ehrharta erecta, a weed that dominates similar habitat -- cool, perennially shaded soils in Coastal California. 

Per the California Invasive Plant Council, E. erecta has a uniquely imprudent history of becoming an invasive plant -- it was brought here from South Africa in the mid-1900s and cultivated in Berkeley and Davis as an experimental grass. I guess it performed. I will spare you any photos of it -- I have a very hard time wasting frames of film on nasty invasive plants, strongly preferring natives due to my profession.

Also in the frame are poison oak (blurry in the background, but I remember it being there) and morning-glory (heart-shaped leaves in the foreground), two other natives that are significant components of the system where I took this picture. This was growing along a creek canyon filled with oaks. I am about to walk Bear Dog there now. I will listen for its melody, and search for its onion scent. 

Paintbrush

Franciscan paintbrush, I believe it is called, and this plant only grows in California. Adorned with tropical tones, Castilleja subinclusa stands out rather freakishly from the background coastal scrub and grassland. It seemed alien where I found it, while hiking with Catey on the north side of Dias Ridge in the Marin Headlands, belonging rather in the Costa Rica jungle clinging to a towering tree.

I laid on my belly for this shot, as if I were hiding from some extraterrestrial invader stalking me on the savanna. 

Franciscan paintbrush, GGNRA (Marin County), March 2013.

I don't know much about indian paintbtrush, but there are several in North America. The genus Castilleja host paintbrushes and owl's clovers, all of which are hemi-parasites: meaning they use chlorophyll as well as the sugars of other plants, connected at the roots, for survival. 

Looking for more information about this species, which I did not find, led me to poke around iNaturalist.org for the first time. If you're not convinced of nature's intrinsic beauty and mystery, I encourage you to visit. Check out this incredible slime mold picture, for starters. 

And more from the same photographer: click here. Wow!

Mission afterbar makeout

This is not very nature-oriented (in the sense that this blog is dedicated to), nor necessarily characteristic of things American. It's a long exposure of some people making out after bar time in the Mission last fall. For reasons I don't remember now, I went wandering out late-night with my camera and a tripod at 3am or so, to see what scenes the Mission would provide. I had to go no further than just around the corner from my pad to witness this activity.

I know it's a little voyeuristic of me to have taken this, but I think it's worthy of celebrating. And, the subjects truly didn't seem to care. I set up a tripod, made a few adjustments, and took two 10-second exposures.

I wanted to capture blurred car lights ("light trails"), the sense of motion in the shadows of a bar's facade, silvery wet streets. The making-out couple is hidden just enough to make the scene seem private and seductive. It also adds the mystery of anonymity -- especially not even seeing the person against the wall enough to be able to identify their gender.

Mission Afterbar Makeout, 2012.

But the cars passing make the scene seem sort of ordinary.

Shortly hereafter, the two ladies were joined by a larger group. All walked together down to Mission Street, where one got in a cab with friends, and the other watched the cab go.

Spring changes and new arrivals

Local birds are beginning to nest. As I type, a Western scrub-jay is selecting shreds of coconut hulls from the flower basket lining that hangs over the back patio. It's off to weave those into a nest somewhere. A pair of chickadees has taken a liking to two birdhouses we've hung on the fence, obtained at a recent estate sale in our neighborhood. Perhaps they recognize these houses from their past and are assessing their new locale. They gather the fibrous root matter of Chloragalum pomeridanum that sits staged in the yard, ready for us to plant. They take it in small quantities and disappear into the house with it. They are benefiting from Catey's and my planting delays. But the chickadees are having to compete with crows, which have been raiding the same root matter this morning, either for to line their own nests, or to eat. They are acting fast and eating a lot.

When I'm at home these days, it's difficult for me to focus on the things I "need" to go get done away from home. Having a hummingbird feeder, two suet feeders, and a seed feeder with black sunflower is one thing. But, now, with spring here, nesting activity is becoming a constant draw of my attention. Are the Hutton's vireos singing from the backyard oak going to build a nest on one of its thousand branch forks for me to find? The regular pair of purple finches, whom I can hear crunching seed on the bird feeder when I sit in the kitchen -- where will they nest? They sing in the trees around the neighborhood. Are these California towhees I see going to start gathering nesting materials, or are they just foraging...and ditto for the golden-crowned sparrows?

The yard bird list is at a plateau of 33, with the last three birds to date added on 16 February. Spring migration will be starting soon. What will be the next bird to be noted? I am curious whether next door's palm will invite a hooded oriole to nest. Will stopping-over sparrows follow the cues of locals and visit my feeder? I just realized I don't have a song sparrow on my list, but I heard one sing across the street this morning. Come on over and be #34, I invite him.

One of the things I "need" to go do, and I'm about to do so, is go buy more bird seed.

And find ways to stop feeding the squirrels -- and seal up the gaps in the fence to keep that rogue cat who keeps visiting OUT.

Snow geese, La Conner, December 2012.