Las Flores Canyon after the Storm
On the Edge
At the entrance to the old estate, patches of brome grass (Bromus diandrus), bent over with the weight of the water, paint broad strokes of bright green over the big meadow. Eucalyptus shiver in the brisk breeze and shake off large drops of water from globose blue-green leaves. Fragrant acacia blossoms, like small yellow powderpuffs, sweeten the air. On the pebbly old road, puddles of dark water reflect the scudding clouds above.The trail at the end of the road is dry, its ritual dustiness abated by the rain, and crumbly, its alluvial composition, rapidly draining. Here the everthirsty California sagebrush sucks up moisture into its leaves growing and swelling, soft and succulent, along the stems. The slightest brush against the aromatic foliage leaves a lingering perfume. Flame-colored bracts of Indian paintbrush glow against the wet, pale-orange granite. Ceanothus display branches heavily laden with blossoms and slow, cold bees.
Into the Canyon
Entering the canyon, the trail narrows, becoming spongier upon encountering coast live oak with new glossy, lime-green leaves overlaying dark leathery older ones, dripping with water, and poison oak, similar in color and texture, but with its characteristic three-part leaflet now recognizable beneath, now overgrown enough to need dodging past on the trail. Wallflowers (Erysimum capitatum), living up to their name, decorate the steep canyon sides, like a sculptured living wallpaper. Water gurgles below.Oak roots provide convenient handles to cross washouts on the thinning trail. The air chills, smelling damp and earthy. Clumpy mosses, ochre and emerald, and feathery ferns, sequined with raindrops, weave a multi-textured tapestry over the rocks. More rocks, less trees: The canyon contracts.
High Water
The path descends abruptly to the stream below. Spicy bay trees scent the sharp air. The stream slides swiftly over the rocks, rushing away over a tumbling cascade. The trail ends. No boulder hopping today. The water is high, clear and cold.Far up the canyon, encircling the yucca and manzanita, freshly fallen snow glistens and sparkles. Pristine. Pure.
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Bailey Canyon
Upper Trail toward Jones Peak
White: The achromatic color of highest brilliance. From starry white flowers underfoot to filmy white clouds high above, white is the color of the day. White flowers on shady trails
Sheltered under the shade of coast live oak (Quercus agrifolia), small white flowers shine, tiny stars against the damp dark earth--miner's lettuce (Claytonia perfoliata), petite pastel-pink-to-white flowers, succulent round leaves, and its frequent companion, common chickweed (Stellaria media), dainty notched petals, soft oval leaves. Purple-stemmed, triangular-leaved, with clusters of bristly milky-white flowers, the much taller eupatory (Ageratina adenophora) clogs the stream beds and covers the boulders.White flowers on sunny slopes
Out in the sunlight, the white flowers glow larger. Honey-scented, snowy-white, sweet alyssum border the trail as it snakes steeply up the hillside. Incised, ivory blooms of the vine-like nightshade (Solanum douglasii) peep through the greenery. Papery flower heads of pearly everlasting rustle in the hand. A closer look at the rampant wild cucumber vines reveals white flowers of two kinds: males at the top of the stalk and the female attached to the small prickly fruit near the base. A female cabbage white butterfly, distinguished by the two black spots on the upper wing from the male who has only one, flutters by.White plants on rocky cliffs
Where greenery diminishes and reflective rocks dominate, leaves and stems are white as well. Rattlesnake weed (Chamaesyce albomarginata), so named for the chalky white margins surrounding the crimson flowers, blooms now on the hottest south-facing trail cuts. The descriptively titled, chaparral whitethorn (Ceanothus leucodermis) is many times white: long bony spines, thin ghostly-greenish-white bark, leaves frosted white underneath, flower buds bluish-white like the bloom on Concord grapes. Ashy-leaf buckwheat (Eriogonum cinereum) looks fresh from a visit to Mt. St. Helens, the gray-white color and felty texture of its leaves resemble ash so closely. Bleached gray skeletons of last year's deerweed lie in mounds in the distance.Countershading
The tree swallow swooping after insects in the afternoon breeze, uses white for protective coloration called countershading. Its blue back matches the brackish water it favors, when seen from above. But when observed from below its pure white belly is almost invisible against the filmy cirrus clouds forming in the brilliant sky.
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