Waiting for rain

This is a piece I'd wanted to make since visiting San Miguel Island, part of Channel Island National Park. The dark creatures you see are dormant giant coreopsis that spring to life in late winter after some rain and produce bright yellow blossoms. I encountered a spring on my way up to this spot that is surely visited by San Miguel island foxes. It's a dream of mine to camp nearby and linger so I can see this subspecies of Urocyon littoralis, the last I'll be able to "catch" not having Navy clearance.

It's still funny to me in a not at all ha ha sort of way that some think southern California doesn't have seasons. It most definitely does. I'm always thinking about what's coming in and going out of bloom in the parks away from our airports and patches of green dominated by grass and palms. The "no seasons” mentality is a challenge because many who've moved here from elsewhere are sometimes quick to think that a native plant that looks tired during the summer is dead. Nope, they're just dormant in many cases. Would a Midwesterner chop down a maple in the winter just because it doesn't have green leaves? For the most part, no.

Waiting for Rain. Transparent watercolor and powdered soft pastel on 300lb hot press paper. 14" x 19" (36 x 48cm).

Walking while (overly) aware

I wonder how many people have passed this live oak in Los Peñasquitos Canyon Preserve over the years without pulling knives on it and inviting pathogens for a picnic? Weak appeals to tradition could be made to justify new arborglyphs, none of which hold much water when we’re talking about trees in nature preserves; what these clowns did is no Chumash “scorpion tree.”

***

There’re still flowers to see in San Diego other than invasive mustard and ice plants despite our minimal rainfall over the winter. I enjoy the hunt.

brownspined pricklypear (Cylindropuntia californica var. parkeri), Los Peñasquitos Canyon Preserve

red-shouldered hawk (Buteo lineatus), Los Peñasquitos Canyon Preserve

lanceleaf liveforever (Dudleya lanceolata), Los Peñasquitos Canyon Preserve

coyote (Canis latrans), Los Peñasquitos Canyon Preserve

climbing milkweed (Funastrum cynanchoides var. hartwegii), Torrey Pines State Natural Reserve

San Diego barrel cactus (Ferocactus viridescens var. viridescens) with pink sand verbena (Abronia umbellata), Torrey Pines State Natural Reserve

sacred datura (Datura wrightii), Torrey Pines State Beach

San Diego goldenstar (Bloomeria clevelandii), Louis Stelzer County Park

delicate clarkia (Clarkia delicata), Louis Stelzer County Park

San Bernardino larkspur (Delphinium parryi), Louis Stelzer County Park

A cherrypicked view from Kumeyaay Promontory at Louis Stelzer County Park sans enormous powerlines.

This is on the way to our trash and recycling bins. I suppose it's my version of a container garden. It started a couple of years ago with some Calorchortus weedii var. intermedius bulbs from Telos Rare Bulbs. Wildlife kept eating the emerging leaves, so I chucked in some Opuntia prolifera cladodes that had fallen from the one I planted at the end of the driveway. The Eschscholzia californica is a volunteer from elsewhere in the yard. Maybe next spring will finally be the year for that C. weedii.

This is probably not my last post about cacti...

There don’t seem to be gloves thick enough for handling some of them. That’s why I frequently wear none to maximize my dexterity and instead use my BBQ tongs when I’m repotting them or moving them in the garden. They still nail me sometimes and I’m a little scared of my coastal cholla because we’ve had some disagreements. The funniest is certainly the time I flipped a fallen piece of it into my face with my hori-hori and it stuck to my chin. That’s probably the only selfie I should ever have bothered taking and yet I was too preoccupied with getting the cactus off of my face to think to.

San Diego barrel cactus is much tamer comparatively speaking and I adore this species. I’ve got buds on mine and many in the preserves are in flower. Toward sundown one can watch solitary cactus bees find blossoms to curl up in. This one may or may not have moved on after I saw it faceplant late in the day. Only one is visible in the shot below, but this flower had many Argentine ants swarming it and others nearby. Said invasive species makes life hard for the native pollinators and the cacti as well. These ants think nothing of attacking other small living things and I’ve wondered how often these bees get a restful night's sleep when the former are present (someone who studies them for a living surely knows).

San Diego barrel cactus (Ferocactus viridescens), Diadasia sp. and Argentine ant (Linepithema humile) in Los Peñasquitos Canyon Preserve

My golden cereus began blooming for the first time and it’s a hit with the native bees in particular. A friend of mine who was in school at the Rancho Santa Ana Botanic Garden (now the California Botanic Garden) brought it down the 15 from their nursery for me as a single stemmed plant. It’s grown its heart out since being planted and is now quite large with many branches.

Bergerocactus emoryi and Diadasia sp.

Here’re a couple of other recent beauties for the fun of it. The crimson one was purchased as Trichocereus ‘Fuente de Sangre’. Taxonomists have since said, “Um, actually, Trichocereus is really Echinopsis.” It’s chilling near some eastern Mojave buckwheat (Eriogonum fasciculatum var. foliolosum) and Aloe aculeata. Aloe peglerae and Aloe dorotheae are nearby with the latter being almost as bright as this flower. Wildflowers bloom around their skirts in season.

Echinopis ‘Fuente de Sangre’

There’s nothing wrong with spritzing one’s flowers for a photo op, but nature did it for me that morning. I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s the last time we see rain other than fog here until fall.

Echinocereus chloranthus

Parodia uebelmannianus f. flaviflorus

Echinopsis ‘Edwardian Lady’

And here’s one from the garden for those who can’t be brought over to the spiny side unless roses are involved. As part of our ongoing hillside project, I added a San Diego mountain lilac (Ceanothus cyaneus) in a one gallon pot last fall. If it survives its first hot summer (and the Argentine ants don’t farm mealybugs and scale around its roots) it should do well from there desiring no supplemental water. That’s a big “if,” but I planted it with a black sage (Salvia mellifera) and placed some large rocks around it in an attempt to keep its roots cool.

Egression

This is my latest mixed media painting that I'm pleased enough with to share here. I've noted that it's in my best interest to keep my inspirations to myself for relatability’s sake. That way viewers and potential patrons can see whatever places in my landscapes they wish. But… I have no business sense and I like to prattle on about my favorite places, so I will add that I made this piece after returning from Santa Cruz Island, part of Channel Islands National Park.

Robin Street-Morris. Egression. Transparent watercolor and powdered soft pastel on 300lb hot press paper. 14" x 19" (36 x 48cm).

Please click or tap on the image of the painting if you’d like to purchase a print.

Every day is Earth Day

It hurts to watch organisms we love dearly die, particularly when it wasn't their time to go. And it’s difficult to be in the company of people who don't accept that anthropogenic climate change is the real deal.

Mule deer family in the yard

Hi there.

The Stare (Owl Moon VI)

Halloween is a summer away, but any time of year is a good time for me to celebrate two of my favorite things: owls and the Moon. This is a long running series that I return to when I feel like it. I recently took note of the boxes of Prismacolor pencils in my studio closet that hadn’t been touched in years and thought why not? There are less used colors in there from high school (cringe).

While I obviously took a lot of artistic liberty with it, this mixed media piece was inspired by an actual owl encounter in Tecolote Canyon. If you live in San Diego, you may know that this lovely park is on the other side of the 5 from Mission Bay and Sea World. I plan on paying a pair there a visit today and seeing if I can’t find an owlet or two. They were definitely nesting when this male eyed me sternly.

Robin Street-Morris. The Stare (Owl Moon VI). Transparent watercolor, colored pencil and soft pastel on 300lb cold press paper. 13” x 13” (33 x 33cm).

Please click or tap on the image of the art if you’d like to own a print.

California Native Plant Week

Homeowners nearby got California Native Plant Week started a little early by having a magnificent laurel sumac chopped down. I'd have been thrilled had it come with our house purchase instead of the acacias and ecosystem-altering saltcedar that's since been replaced with a bush rue. I'm hoping our immediate neighbors don't feel pressured to do the same with their lemonade berry; it's trimmed up into an open shape the fire department feels is acceptable for creating a defensible space and isn't going to be responsible for our homes burning down if disaster hits this canyon. Palm fronds grazing our homes’ roofs and embers landing in leaf-filled gutters are another story. Those things are easily addressed without leveling more habitat and making our views hideous, though the powers that be already accomplished the latter at least somewhat by festooning the canyon finger with colored tape last fall urging us to do the former.

I dried my eyes, blew my nose and headed down to Los Peñasquitos Canyon Preserve to escape the sounds of the chainsaws that were giving me chills and to remind myself of what made me want to live in this area in the first place.

Peñasquitos Creek riparian zone

Mountain lion snacks doing some pruning

It and other discarded masks left with me along with the usual wrappers and plastic bottles.

Parish's nightshade (Solanum parishii)

Coast prickly pear (Opuntia littoralis)

Sycamore and willow holding paws

I learned that our San Diego chapter of the California Native Plant Society is to have a new mascot based on Dudleya pulverulenta. I could have painted one at its plumpest, but liked the contrast of the curled leaves and lush center of this one. It shows how well adapted they are to surviving our dry season while remaining beautiful. The inspiration for this piece is growing near a narrow path that dips low next to a bridge that’s part of a multiuse trail in Los Peñasquitos Canyon Preserve. One day, I was standing in said spot photographing it and a guy on a mountain bike shouted down to me asking if I was going to move any time soon. He wanted to take the more challenging way down rather than riding across the bridge. I told him pleasantly that I wasn’t finished and that the path I was on is for pedestrians and equestrians. He retorted that he didn’t see any horses. I suggested he ride across the bridge which he proceeded to do while calling me a few choice words women tend to not appreciate. I’ve learned that trail usage signs do little to stop cyclists out there and that if I stand my ground on the pedestrian/equestrian trails they ride around me into the plants, so I’ve given up on that approach.

Chalk Dudleya (Dudleya pulverulenta). Transparent watercolor and soft pastel on 140lb hot press paper. 13” x 18” (33 x 46cm).

(Please click or tap on the image above if you’re interested in purchasing a fine art print. )

Wherever we rest our heads the vast majority of nights is our home. Unless we’re camping (or homeless), we leave the preserves and parks and return to our apartments, condos and houses at night. The plants and animals in them have nowhere else to go, thus it’s my opinion that we owe them the right of way when we’re in their home.

California poppies (Eschscholzia californica) and white sages (Salvia apiana) are putting on a show in our yard as are many other sages and wildflowers.

Island fox "hunt"

What I'm most hoping for when I visit Channel Islands National Park is to see these pint-sized apex predators thriving in their home and ignoring us.  The ranger who met us at the pier for orientation mentioned that some of the foxes are so tame they'll get up on the picnic tables to join us for lunch.  My husband knows how much I love them and wondered aloud what my reaction would be if one hopped up next to me and begged.  As tempted as I might be to make a little friend for the moment, I would not share my food with an island fox. Everything I’ve read about them has taught me that it's in their best interest to forage for native fruits and hunt insects, island deer mice and reptiles. Even snakes.

This fox was wandering around the campground sniffing for dropped snacks and sat down in the sun before curling up to take a short nap as I came closer. It got up again after it drew a larger crowd.

One person wondered aloud if it was breathing.

After walking about a mile from the campground into Scorpion Canyon, I caught sight of alert, cinnamon-colored ears glowing high on the canyonside. Unlike our fox sighting on Santa Rosa Island, we had more time to linger and observe its behavior without fear of missing the boat back to Ventura.

These are heavily cropped 400mm shots of it hunting a snake, quite likely a Santa Cruz Island gophersnake judging by its slightly spotted underside, but I can't say for certain. It cached its prey after biting it behind its neck while shaking it furiously and then continued hunting. There's quite likely a den nearby with fox kits on the way given the time of year.

Santa Cruz Island fox (Urocyon littoralis subspecies santacruzae ) spotted!

Prey located…

The pounce!

Even shooting at 1/400 second, its forehead and ears are ablur here because it was shaking that snake so hard.

You might be able to see faint markings on the unfortunate snake’s underside if you’re checking out this post on a quality monitor.

It appeared to nibble for awhile and then cache its kill.

The hunt continues.

The recovery of this species is a conservation success story and you can read about it here if you're unfamiliar with it. If you'd like to help continue research efforts, consider sending Friends of the Island Fox a few bucks.

Santa Cruz Island has inspired a number of my mixed media paintings. Clicking or tapping on the images of them below will take you to prints of them at Pixel.com.

Anacapa Vista. Transparent watercolor and powdered soft pastel on 300lb cold press paper. 14" x 19" (36 x 48cm).

Two Ravens. Transparent watercolor and powdered soft pastel on 300lb hot press paper. 13" x 19" (33 x 48cm).

In Search of Island Foxes. Transparent watercolor and powdered soft pastel on 300lb cold press paper. 13" x 19" (33 x 48cm).

A flying jewel

I spent some time today appreciating the peridot sweat bees (Augochlorella pomoniella) and other pollinators moving between plants blooming in our garden. There are over 20,000 different species of known bees in the world. They’re all of intrinsic value and important to humanity’s survival as well.

Augochlorella pomoniella working Leptosyne maritima

They were interested in Echinocereus triglochidiatus as well. Claretcup cactus (just one of its many common names) is a favorite of mine. The blossoms look like embers when one catches them backlit.

Northern harrier

I'd have thought I was watching a short-eared owl hunting if I didn't know our birds of prey fairly well. Their methods are similar and northern harriers have a pretty flat, owlish face for a hawk. They seem to really like Lopez Canyon which connects to our canyon and don't appear to be as bothered by the established invasive mustard as I am. An enormous striped skunk was foraging busily nearby and the hawk did take a brief look, but who in their right mind would tackle that?!

This would make a fitting profile shot for me if I were still able to stomach social media.

Long Shadows in Lopez Canyon. Transparent watercolor and powdered soft pastel on 300lb hot press paper. 15" x 19" (38 x 48cm).

Here’s a slope cleared for the purpose of creating defensible space for a home backing up to Los Peñasquitos Canyon Preserve. Nature abhors a vacuum and the invasive plants that renew annually take hold and reseed heavily when we don’t stay ahead of them. I spend more time than I’d like weeding in order to keep the worst of them at bay. At least it’s “yoga” in the company of wildlife with the scent of my Cleveland sages and others nearby to cheer me on.

I can’t mention Hawaiian short-eared owls without including a shot of one soaring within a Haleakalā National Park cloud. These are moments one never forgets.

Can't live on nectar alone

If you observe Anna’s hummingbirds for awhile, you'll see them collecting spider webs and lichens for their nests, picking insects off of plants and even catching them midair with all of the maneuvers you'd expect from birds capable of flying backwards. They're the only ones who can do that without help from wind. I recently paused along Peñasquitos Creek one evening to watch this male adding some protein to his diet.

Nesting out back in the big Peruvian peppertree is another Anna's. It's the one plant on the slope I didn't replace with a local native. All of my plantings are doing great with many sages and bladderpod already in flower to nourish the hummingbirds and others. I hope she and her young luck out with the invasive Argentine ants. A nesting attempt on our property line last year ended with the hatchlings being swarmed shortly after the eggs hatched. The California Argentine ant supercolony thrives on our addiction to incessant irrigation.

A few moments in Wilderness Gardens County Preserve

This is a species that results in muffled squeals when I find one. Everything about it is beautiful in my opinion. I wasn’t exactly thrilled with myself for having left my macro lens at home.

California Peony (Paeonia californica)

Kumeyaay Ehmuu (Bedrock Mortar) with Oak Leaf and Acorn

These are used by native people to grind acorns and other foods.

Discarded Butt

If this action had resulted in an inferno, would it really have been a “wildfire?” Careless arson is more like it. And the native plant “fuel” would be blamed.

Blue Dicks (Dichelostemma capitatum) with Buffalo Gourd (Cucurbita foetidissima)

Coyote Stare

It was a brief encounter and wonderful as always. Coyotes who aren’t fed by humans will be out of sight shortly after you see them.

Fingertips (Dudleya edulis) and Chaparral Yucca Remains (Hesperoyucca whipplei)

I planted this very combination in our backyard years ago and both have become huge. Sea dahlias (Leptosyne maritima) have woven themselves through the chaparral yucca and are currently blooming; the latter will send up a large inflorescence at some point, bloom profusely and then die. Sculptural hardly covers it.

A heartfelt thank you to the people who saved this land for the native plants, wildlife and us to enjoy respectfully. Some “things” are irreplaceable.

Wave-formed still lifes at Torrey Pines State Beach

Spiny Mole Crab Carapace and Pacific Sea Gooseberries

Syringe

Chip Bag and Giant Kelp

Eccentric Sand Dollar

Hook

Microplastic

Weathered Straw and Pacific Sea Gooseberries

Bottle Cap

Wing

T-End Fabric Fastener

Bones

A new piece and an exhibition announcement

My latest mixed media painting.

Empyreal Mist. 2021. Transparent watercolor and powdered soft pastel on 300lb hot press paper. 14" x 21" (36 x 53cm).

Juror Paul Glenshaw of the Smithsonian Institution selected two of my landscape paintings for inclusion in the 2021 Art on Paper exhibition at Maryland Federation of Art’s Circle Gallery in Annapolis, Maryland. This was one of those times when I found myself admiring every piece included in the show as I scrolled through the gallery of accepted work.

As is typically the case, the paintings I’ll be carefully matting and framing to send across the country were inspired by personal moments in nature.

Passage XI (Comet with Venus). 2020. Transparent watercolor and powdered soft pastel on 300lb cold press paper. 15" x 20" (38 x 51cm).

Sea of Fog with Green Flash. 2020. Transparent watercolor and powdered soft pastel on 300lb rough press paper. 14" x 19" (36 x 48cm).

Fragrant evening-primrose (Oenothera cespitosa)

This is the first one of the year with more blossoms on the way. I’m thinking of placing my camera trap facing the next round of buds when I see them beginning to open. Maybe I’ll catch one of its pollinators, the spectacular white-lined sphinx moth. This species isn’t native to the coast, but I couldn’t resist it. It’s well-behaved in the garden and I pluck spent blooms.

Fragrant Evening-Primrose (Oenothera cespitosa)

A white-crowned sparrow's last sunrise

At least he didn’t know the Cooper’s hawk was coming (not for long, anyway). I witness predation events pretty frequently around here. My only wish, since the hawks need to eat as well, is that Artemis would show up a bit more quickly to dispatch prey with her painless arrows, but that’s not how the natural world really works.

The yard has been purposefully turned into a bird garden. There’s a lot of evergreen cover for passerines to hide in when flushed, so the raptors aren’t always successful. For levity’s sake, I’ll share that I felt one of these birds bomb so close to my head while I was planting a native buckwheat at dusk last week that I felt its beating wings over my head. It spared me its talons, no doubt realizing that my bouncing ponytail as I wielded my hori-hori wasn’t one of the California ground squirrels living below the fence after all.

Los Peñasquitos Canyon Sunrise with Mount Laguna

Cooper’s Hawk with White-Crowned Sparrow

Her Desher

In anticipation of Perseverance landing safely on Mars today, I headed back in time with this mixed media piece I made in 2004 titled Her Desher, as "the red one" was known in ancient Egypt. I’ve made quite a bit of celestial-inspired art since my days of watching the shuttle launches and playing with my space LEGO. There’s very little indication that I’ll be growing out of this behavior. And I still have said LEGO in case I feel the urge to celebrate that way.

Robin Street-Morris. Her Desher. 2004. Transparent watercolor and colored pencil on 300lb hot press paper. 8.5” x 11” (22 x 28cm).

Mars made a more recent appearance in The Conversation.  It was visible above a moon cast red by a climate fire in San Diego's East County.  The crows are locals who had paid a visit to the back fence that afternoon while I watched the smoke billow.

Robin Street-Morris. The Conversation. 2020. Transparent watercolor and powdered soft pastel on 300lb cold press paper. 14" x 20" (36 x 51cm).

Gray whales and Mylar balloons

San Diego is located along the eastern North Pacific gray whale population's migration route between their Baja breeding and summer feeding grounds in the Arctic. A perfect day of mine is sitting on a bench along the Guy Fleming trail at Torrey Pines State Natural Reserve and watching them swim by with my binoculars in hand or going out to see them from the vantage point of a boat. My latest piece was inspired by a sighting of a healthy cow and her newborn calf while on the Privateer with San Diego Whale Watch. She clearly didn't make it to the nearby birthing lagoons in Mexico. Said species is in the midst of an unusual mortality event, so it was particularly uplifting to see this pair of whales doing well.

Robin Street-Morris. Baja Bound (Gray Whale Cow Calf Pair). 2021. Transparent watercolor and powdered soft pastel on 300lb cold press paper. 13" x 20" (33 x 51cm).

And, of course, there were the usual Mylar balloon sightings. I get it. They're shiny and the perfect last minute party touch we spot while checking out at the grocery store. I've seen so many floating on the water and stuck in trees and powerlines that I must admit to fantasizing about popping every last one of them while standing in line. That action would likely earn me a court date unlike the manufacturing of these sea turtle chokers that look like jellyfish once the paint sloughs off. But that's how our society works, right? If you must buy these balloons, please pop them and put them in the trash once the festivity is over in an attempt to keep them from entering the food chain.

They’re doing it right with limited capacity.

Acorn Woodpecker with starling flight

European starlings aren’t native to this country, but I appreciate them anyway. Their beautiful murmurations are grand enough to make the news at times. This photograph captured a more subtle flight. At the far left you can see an acorn woodpecker watching them jockeying for position among the branches of a California sycamore filled with woodpecker nest cavities.