Native Bulbs in a Chickenwire Ravioli, Anyone?

I grew some pretty Triteleia laxa "Queen Fabiola," AKA Ithuriel's Spear, in pots last year (see above) . They were leftovers from a CNPS propagation session. The plants bloomed wonderfully - these are about the easiest bulbs you can grow. Then they obligingly made a lot of little baby bulbs for me to plant this year.

Thanks to the propagation group, I learned that you have to keep the bulbs dry all summer, so I put aside the pots containing this treasure in a safe dry spot.

Recently the propagation group planted their triteleia bulbs, and so did I. They are actually corms, but I'm not going to belabor the point.

Hairy little beasts, aren't they? Maybe I didn't keep them quite dry enough.

Bulbs (and corms and tubers and rhizomes- oh my!) are generally yummy food for wildlife. We want to support wildlife, but we also want to grow plants. The wildlife can have the seeds and the nectar, a few leaves, and the insects that live on the plants.

Like this bushtit (Psaltriparus minimus), one of a flock that recently descended on the (non-native) cape honeysuckle blossom (Tecomaria capensis) that's right behind the bulb planting area. They gleaned insects for a happy few minutes, while I watched:


I'm too prone to chocolate box plantings, one of this and one of that. This year I'm trying to make bolder mistakes! groups and drifts of them! So I want to try a drift of Ithuriel's spears on the mound (an old lawn heaped up and decomposing for over a year now).

I contemplated making many tiny chickenwire cups for each tiny corm, because despite Duncan's best efforts we do have gophers in the pool garden.

And then I had another idea. Will it work out? I don't know, but this entire project only took me an hour and that ain't bad. Here are the easy to follow steps:

1. Dig out the planting area four inches deep and lay gopher wire. I figured the bulbs are about an inch tall max, and the general rule seems to be to bury bulbs three times the height of the bulb [update: I've since read that 4 inches is recommended!], so I first laid my strip of gopher wire diagonally on the mound to get the dimensions, and dug out three inches deep or so, to that shape. Then I pinned the gopher wire in the space, using a few of those longish u-shaped staples that are cheap.

2. Put the soil back, leaving the edges of wire sticking up, and plant the bulbs.
I planted them pretty close, about 4 inches or so, and tried to be random. I'm not sure I quite got the random thing down.

2b. Optional - Add rock phosphate.
It's good for bulbs because it's low in nitrogen. I don't understand these requirements but I did read them, and moreover I believed them. Unfortunately I forgot to put a little in with each bulb so I just sprinkled some on after. I'm not sure how much, I just boldly sprinkled where nobody has ever sprinkled before.

3. Roll out chicken wire to cover the same area and cut to fit.
I forget now where I read that it's a good idea to cover the planting area with one-inch mesh chicken wire, but it makes sense: keeps things from scrabbling the bulbs out from the top, and the mesh is wide enough they can grow up through it.

4. Crimp the two halves together, and staple.

Doesn't it look good enough to eat?

5. Add a bit more soil and mulch and you're done! With nothing to show for it!

BTW Cutting gopher or chicken wire is not an easy task. It has always been something I dreaded actually because it hurts my delicate little hands. Well - the little part is true. Tools are generally made for large hands, and especially with wire cutting devices this is an issue.

But I have found a tool that not only cuts the wire efficiently - it doesn't cause pain !

It's a Midwest Upright Snip (I'm sure other fine brands are available). And even though I still have to use two hands, I don't need a third or fourth hand to hold the chicken or gopher wire in place while I cut, because the handles stick up, out of the way of the wire. I'm in heaven!

Now, look who was watching me while I worked - I don't know what kind of spider it is - a crab spider? a jumping spider? It was about three-quarters of an inch in size including legs, more or less. This page has a lot of good spider photos for visual ID, but I didn't quite see this guy. If anyone knows, can you please leave a comment?

Is Anybody Reading Our Blog?

Here's a conundrum: One of us mice writes a post that's quite fascinating and educational (like, for example, the recent post on native irises). The other mouse sends an excited and congratulatory email. Then we wait for comments -- surely someone must share our excitement! But maybe not. Maybe noone is reading this! Oh no! We're boring! Noone loves us! -- Ah, relief, a comment. Another comment. Mmmm, must be the holidays.

And on the one hand we honestly don't care that much. After all, it's partly about recording what we buy and plant, and besides, we read each other's post. But it's kind of nice to know someone out there is having a look, and maybe they'll divide their irises now, or order some seeds to benefit pollinators. We were both teachers some time long ago, and that probably sticks.

But how can we know whether anybody is reading? Blotanical and Diane from Elephant's Eye to the rescue. On Monday, I thanked Diane for her pick of the Iris post and remarked that we wondering whether anybody is reading. "Oh, just look at the stats," she replied. "What stats?" And here's her answer:

From your blogspot dashboard you can click Stats (that is a recent development) Blogger stats are immediate, right up to 'Now' which is the last 2 hours. Then I use StatCounter for the long term trend - How is my blog doing?

Amazing! We had so many visitors! And they looked at the Iris post, but also at the post about the dusky-footed wood rat. There are many options to display the information, it's just very exciting. Thank you, Diane, and thank you Google.

 

 (First mouse picture from Wikipedia, the other two from The Baldwin Project, Bringing Yesterday's Classic's to Today's Children.)

Divide Native Irises In November and December

Regular readers may recall my Great Iris Dilemma. Basically, I need to get rid of my nursery-bought Iris douglasiana, because I'm propagating local native irises, and they hybridize easily.

Fortunately, last week was the monthly session of the local CNPS propagation group, and guess what: we were dividing iris. I got some takers for my Iris douglasiana! They will come and help me dig them and give them excellent new homes! I am very grateful, and can now let these plants go without guilt!

When I was new to gardening, and needed to divide my Douglas iris plants, I Googled: "when to divide irises," and came up with "July." I divided in July. They died. Don't do this.

The bearded iris varieties have different maintenance requirements than our natives. Divide native iris in late November or early December (December in Southern California). The general rules are:

• Divide your native irises every three to five years, in November or early December.
• Dig em up, and pull them into separate rhizomes (that's the tuberous part that grows along or just under the ground), or small clumps of two or three rhizomes.
• Replant them as soon as possible. Don't let the roots dry out.
• Plant so the rhizome lies along the ground, so the top of the rhizome is still visible. Don't bury them.

Irises are easy to care for. The Society for Pacific Coast Native Iris has a good page on Iris care here. You can water them year round. They like a bit of leaf mold. They will tolerate sun near the coast, and need some shade inland. You can tidy them up by removing dead leaves. You'll enjoy blooms often as early as January. Mine don't bloom for very long, but they are in the shade much of the day.

The irises we were dividing last weekend had lingered too long in pots. Basically they were leftovers from the last native plant sale.

After we hacked and smashed them apart into big clumps - which was hard work - a volunteer rinsed them off. Rinsing is advised because in pots, they can harbor harmful bacteria and other organisms. It's best to give them a fresh start.

Below you can see a nice and clean clump. Your planted iris may not have such long white roots. The new roots should be a couple inches long at least.

In the photo above, you can see that the growth will be in the direction of the person's hand. The next photo shows this more clearly - the direction of growth in the shot below is away from the person's hand:

If you are planting iris in a pot, be sure to allow for it to spread in the direction of growth. Plant the non-growth end near the side of the pot. Don't try to plant them in the middle of the pot, and don't try to plant them so the leaves are upright.

Do be sure, however, that the white roots are all under the soil. It's OK for the leaves to be at an angle, if that's what it takes to get the white roots buried. And keep the top of the rhizome slightly above ground, level with the ground. Or anyway not buried. I'm not exactly sure how far apart to plant them - use your judgment to give them some breathing room, but plant them close enough that they will make a mass display when they fill in. Or you can plant them in smaller groups, in a meadow planting, for example.

The volunteers worked happily together for a couple of hours and got a tremendous number of potted irises divided and repotted. I hope they will sell well at the next CNPS plant sale.

And off they go, to the protected environment of the nursery's shade house, to grow and thrive.

For the Native Plant Novice: When?

If memory serves, the actual question of the native plant novice on the Yahoo! group had to do with timing. I believe s/he had bought a few plants, and wasn't sure when to put them in the ground. Wait for the rains? Wait until after the worst of the frost? So, here are a few musings regarding the question of timing. My answers are based on my personal experience here in the Valley of the Heart's delight, and on information I got from books and from talking with people.

You might also be interested in the information about garden activities that Barbara at Wild Suburbia has in her sidebar. And you can buy the book Care and Maintenance of Southern California Native Plant Gardens from CNPS (rip-off alert: on Amazon, some sellers offer the book for over $100; do yourself a favor and buy it for $30.00 from CNPS). Much of the information applies to Northern California Gardens as well. The book is bilingual Spanish and English.

When to Plant CA Native Perennials and Shrubs. Most CA native perennials and shrubs are most likely to thrive if you plant them right before or during the rainy season. That is especially true for plants that grow in sunny locations. If the plant blooms in late winter or very early spring, like the Arctostaphylos pajaroensis above, I would err on the side of planting a little early (October/November). For all others, any time during the rains is great. I had the front garden planted in October, but the ground is so hard that time of year that I could not have done that by myself. I had the back garden planted in early January. It got quite cold, and I was worried, but the plants didn't mind.

When to Plant CA Native Bulbs. Just today, I finally I put in half of the bulbs I bought. I'm a bit embarrassed to admit that they all came from Holland. I ordered from John Scheepers; 20 Brodia ixioides Starlight, two different native Allium and a native Fritillaria. I would have preferred to put them in a little sooner, but we only just had the first decent rain, and I was unable to get holes into the ground until now. Regardless, November or even December is fine for native bulbs, and it's a joy to see them explode into bloom in the spring.

When to Sow CA Native Seeds. California offers an abundance of annuals, important for pollinators and other critters in the spring. Seeds are available, for example, from Larner Seeds and from the Theodore Payne Foundation in Southern California. Here's what Larner Seeds has to say about sowing annuals:

Traditional planting time is October and November, but wildflowers are adaptable to many different planting regimes. We sow as late as April on the coast. Seed sown in the spring will usually require some irrigation till the seeds have germinated and made early growth. Some afternoon shade is helpful. Here on the coast, we sow seed in four inch pots through the year for regular planting in the garden.

If you enjoyed the most recent post by Country Mouse, you'll see that she's a step ahead of me and has her 4 inch pots all ready.  I've been delayed by my battle with the bulb(s) but hope that I'll have a chance to put in a few seeds before the end of the year.

When to Prune. Pruning times are probably most confusing and somewhat counter-intuitive. Many perennials and shrubs are summer dormant, or at least semi-dormant, and it's best to prune them in summer. Ceanothus, for example, benefits from pruning in August or September. If you wait until October, you might be cutting off the buds, and might have few blooms indeed come spring.

Other shrubs are winter dormant. For example, Styrax californicus (snow drop bush), shown in the first picture of this post, delights with golden leaves and can be pruned when all leaves have dropped. Sambuccus mexicana (Western elderberry) also drops its leaves and can be pruned or even cut to the ground mid-winter.

When to Enjoy Your CA Native Garden. It's starting to sound as if there is no rest for the weary CA gardener. Pruning in summer, sowing and planting in fall, transplanting and more pruning in winter. But actually, I find that for a more informal garden like mine, there's plenty of time when I do nothing for weeks on end. Instead, I take little forays into the garden, camera in hand. I try to capture the bees and birds, the raindrops on the spiderweb or the lizard basking in the sun. I'm thrilled to see the first native currants bloom in January, and happy about the last of the Epilobium (California fuchsia) in late November. There's a surprise in the garden every day!

Sowing (More) Local Native Seeds

Some construction work continues in the greenhouse - but I've moved in anyway :-D Hooray!

Last week I gathered some seed, and I looked through my messy seed collection, and decided it was about time. So here's what I sowed. This is another five-posts-in-one post. I just don't seem to be able to pace myself.

Epilobium canum - California Fuschia

Out walking Duncan, I felt very lucky to find a few late seeds of Epilobium canum. These particular plants grow on a steep bank (see above picture) that gets sun only part of the day, I think around noon, but not full afternoon sun.

A couple seedheads were completely sprung open, some fluffy seeds still left. So I know those were ripe. Some other seed pods felt hard but were not open. I think they’ll ripen. I put two pods in an envelope for later use perhaps. I planted the ripe ones, little fuzzy parachutes and all, in two-inch pots.

I know this is a fairly easy plant to propagate from seed because I grew some last year or the year before - but I didn't look after them well enough and they didn't survive where I put them. I think they dried out, and may have been in a spot that was too sunny. Some didn't get planted soon enough and they started dying off in their pots. One of that batch is surviving in a big container but it hasn't flowered. Live and learn. I'll try to do better this year.

Diplacus aurantiacus - Sticky Monkeyflower Bush.

The local wild monkeyflowers were just lovely this year (see above!) and I really hope I can get more to grow around the garden.

Last time I tried gathering monkeyflower seeds I was confused - I tried to grow seed pod husks thinking they were big seeds. Ha! The seeds themselves are actually tiny, like dust almost. I was put right by a more knowledgeable gardener. This year I kept checking them on my daily walk, and got some reasonable seeds. But many of the seed pods had been parasitized:

See the hole? In the picture below, what look like smallish pale brown seeds are some kind of larvae I think, or eggs rather. Not sure if you can see em in the photo below. Maybe if you click.

I noticed bush monkeyflower growing down in the north garden recently. That’s a first. I wonder if because it’s more open down there (since we removed the big broken bay tree). I hope can get some stands of sticky monkey going down there.

Mimulus guttatus - Seep Monkeyflower

I collected seeds from plants growing in a moist, shady ditch beside the single-track road that takes us home from the highway. The road follows a creek and makes interesting riparian plants fairly accessible.

The seed pods are papery like small lanterns and the seeds are very tiny.


Such a pretty flower - rich and buttery. The plant is low and has soft green stems and foliage, very unlike its bushy relative.


I'll put this, if it grows, in shady spots, maybe in a container near a hose spigot, as it does like to be very wet.

Eriogonum nudum - Naked Eriogonum

I also collected seeds of eriogonum nudum from the same single-track creek-side road, a little farther up. It grows up a bank, and likes good drainage.

I've been meaning to try and propagate this plant for a few years now. Not that it is very showy, but it is a local native, and there is not too much of it, so I do want to see if I can get some growing on the shadier side of the north garden (north slope down behind the house).

The individual flowers are pretty but as a plant, it would need to be massed for effect. I'm hoping I can grow it on a bank where some toyon grow.

It's hard to know if I actually got any seeds. I asked about this at a CNPS event and was advised to just crumble up the flowers, because the seeds are hard to detect. So that's what you see below - brown crumbled up flowers. Whether the seeds had all dispersed or not, I don't know.

I also mixed in some crumbled flowers I gathered earlier this year - maybe not quite ready - maybe ready enough. So between these two sets, I hope we got some seeds.

Ceanothus thyrsiflorus - California Wild Lilac

I sowed one set of seeds from the tree that grows on our north slope, half of which which is surviving after being split in two a couple of winters ago. The photo above is the only one I can find of it, before the big split. The other set is from a similar tree that grows just down the road a bit from us. Both sets had been stratified for a couple of months give or take, in the fridge (stratified = fancy word for "kept cold," to simulate winter).

Below, a picture of unidentified ceanothus, with bee, to remind us of spring. It could be nursery stock such as dark star, which I have, or it could be the warty leaved ceanothus which also grows here natively - but I didn't get any seeds of that one this year.

Attentive readers may recall that I stratified a batch of ceanothus seeds earlier this year, and it started to grow a fluffy white mold while in the fridge. In fact, it was quite moldy when I took it out. So this time I microwaved the damp peat before putting them in.

I recommend checking things you stick in the back of the fridge, whether dinner left-overs or seeds. And not only for mold. One of the containers of seeds was too wet, the peat soggy, not just nicely moist. I could have poured out some excess moisture if I had checked.

Shoot. I forgot to note which one was the soggy one. Dang!!! Without keeping good records it's harder to learn anything. Anyway at least I labeled them by origin.

I'd like to propagate "our" tree before it keels over. Never seems right to me, the thought that I "own" these plants that grow here all by themselves - but still, I do somehow care about them more than the plants that grow outside our boundary line! How strange is that?

Anyway. This time, no mold - or just a touch perhaps. Maybe it was perlite.

Madia elegans - Common Madia


I’ve been saving but never sowing seeds of this very attractive Madia for a long time - finally I sowed some! I gathered a few more a few days ago, as I was out walking Duncan. It grows in an open sunny spot near some oaks and old orchard trees:

And I'm hoping it will like it in the upper part of the north garden where it's quite sunny in places.

I sowed three flats of the various small seeds, and put the rest of the seeds into two inch pots, a few seeds per. All the 2 inch pots are held fairly securely in a seed flat.


Keeping them in the greenhouse is a bit - gratuitous - but hey, I'm playing with my new toy!

All the same, I was quite glad they were out of the wind and rain - and HAIL! that we had last night. I hope I can keep them happy. I'm eagerly looking forward to at least a few germinating and making it to the garden.

For the Native Plant Novice: Why?

In a fairly recent email to the Gardening with Natives Yahoo! Group, a self-professed native plant novice asked for advice. The question was fairly straightforward, and I believe was answered right away (it's a great group!). But I realized that on our blog, we're possibly a bit short on information for the novice, so I'm planning on a few posts.

Today's post is about the WHY of California native plants. I'll examine a few oft-quoted reasons for growing natives, and tell you what my experience has been (in future posts we can look at HOW, WHERE, and WHEN).

1. Natives are Drought Tolerant and I'll Save on My Water Bill.
Many people I talk to cite as their primary reason for wanting to grow natives that their water bill is high, and that they hope to stop watering. Not so fast! I say.

• Many of the most attractive natives come from the Channel Islands, Northern California, or the Sierra Nevada. These plants might expect a lot more water than the normal rain fall for your region. Interestingly, Ms. Country Mouse gets a lot more water than I do. For Santa Clara county, you can check how much water you are getting by looking at this site. Notice that Palo Alto currently has only half the rainfall of Lexington Reservoir, about a half hour drive away. Even plants you might consider locally native might need extra water in a suburban garden. 
• In the first few years, all natives need extra water. In the wild, only the most vigoroous plants survive. You want to stack the odds in your garden by adding water. 
• Plants from different habitats have different water requirements. Chaparral plants really can get by with very little water, plants from redwood habitats appreciate (or require) a nice shower on a regular basis to thrive. 

That said, yes, you CAN lower your water bill with native plants. But you might consider combining natives with other beautiful mediterranean climate plants if water savings are your primary goal.

2. Natives are Low Maintenance.
This one seems like a no-brainer. You stick some plants in the ground that actually belong here, and of course they'll thrive. All you have to do is sit in your garden chair and enjoy the butterflies. Not so fast! I say.

While I've found that native plants need less of the boring, repetitive maintenance a lawn might require, they do require some care. All successful native plant gardeners I know actually spend time taking care of their garden. Sure, you might do nothing for several months in summer, while things in the garden are quiet, plants aren't growing much, and planting is not such a good idea.
But in early fall, you'll want to start pruning, and after the rains start you might want to sow some annuals, and put in a few perennials, shrubs, and grasses. Sadly, the non-native weeds like oxalis, privet, liquidamber, and so on don't know your garden is a native plant garden and will not hesitate to take over if you let them, so some weeding is usually required (and some weeds come up through 3 inches of mulch).
So, many natives are fairly low maintenance. See this post, A Garden of Four or Five, by Barbara at Wild Suburbia for a list. But natives won't offer a magical solution (though I do think they offer magical rewards).

3. Natives Connect Me With My Environment.
One of my main reasons for growing natives is the sense of place they give me. I like to feel that I'm planting things that belong here. I enjoy going for a hike and seeing plants I also enjoy in my garden. Learning about the plants in my garden helps me identify the plants I see out in the wild, and a weekend outing often gives me some good ideas for plants to add to my garden. When I meet a native plant novice, I usually recommend they have a look at books that explore the different native plant habitats, such as Designing California Native Gardens: The Plant Community Approach. Even if your goal isn't to create a habitat, your plants are more likely to succeed if you group them according to plant community.

4. Native Attract Birds and Butterflies. 
One main reason I've continued gardening with natives despite some setbacks, some plants that didn't make it, some perennials that decided to become annuals, are the birds, butterflies, pollinators, lizards, and other critters I've encountered in my garden. Yes, I do believe that gardening without pesticides is essential for attracting wildlife, and having water sources and shelter is also required. But having native plants makes a difference.
In his book Bringing Nature Home, Douglas Tallamy makes a convincing argument that native plants are more likely to attract native insects, which in turn are more likely to attract native birds. And while seeds and berries are great for birds, many require a buggy protein snack when migrating or for feeding their young. I'm always happy to see my plants a little bit nibbled at, it means there's food for another critter, be it a bird, a lizard, or a caterpillar.

5. Native Plants are Interesting. Ok, let me go out on a limb here. I really do enjoy the challenge of gardening with natives, and find them more interesting than regular garden plants. A light bulb went off in my head when I recently read that for good design, you need to embrace constraints. I happen to like jig-saw puzzles, I enjoy finding just the right piece to fit in a slot. I find it very satisfying to ponder the right plant for a spot and to finally find it (even if I delude myself at times).

And with that, dear native plant novice, I'll let you ponder what you'll want to do. If it was mainly the water savings and low maintenance you are after, some mediterranean climate plants might serve you just as well if not better than some California Natives. You might even consider some hardscaping (maybe urbanite?). A garden--even a native plant garden--that just annoys you because it needs more water and time than you have is a sad thing.

But I hope that like me, you're interested in biodiversity and envision a beautiful wildlife garden. In that case, I hope you'll enjoy our blog, the links on our blogs, and our book list, and you'll have a fun fall planting season followed by a spectacular spring!

A Special Outing to Clark Canyon Ranch

Mr. Mouse and I like to act locally, so part of our annual donations budget has gone to the Peninsula Open Space Trust (POST) for many years. Here's what they say about themselves on their website.

"The mission of the Peninsula Open Space Trust (POST) is to give permanent protection to the beauty, character and diversity of the San Francisco Peninsula and Santa Cruz Mountain range. POST encourages the use of these lands for natural resource protection, wildlife habitat, low-intensity public recreation and agriculture for people here now and for future generations."

In practice, POST buys properties that would further those goals, and often sells them to appropriate government agencies when they have the money available. Some properties continue as ranches where large development might have sprung up. In my mind, it's an altogether essential part of keeping the Bay Area livable. But I digress. POST also invites donors on guided hikes of properties that are either not yet in the public domain, or that will never be, and in early November, I had the great pleasure of visiting Clark Canyon Ranch together with around 30 fellow POSTers and staff. 

The outing was made even more special by the presence of photographer David Hibbard, who had generously volunteered to talk a little about his approach to photos and came equipped with examples, his own camera, and a wonderful willingness to answer questions. 

We started at the former site of the house of the previous owners. No trace remains, but a single apple tree with inviting red apples gives a glimpse of the past.  Here's what the POST site says:

"Though they had a walnut orchard on the land and raised a few cattle, the Clarks never used the ranch for commercial purposes, leaving its plentiful natural and scenic resources largely undisturbed for the last 60 years—another major reason for POST’s decision to acquire the property, said Moore.
The ranch stretches toward the wooded foot of a box canyon that drains into Bodfish Creek, a spawning ground for endangered steelhead trout. Lined with sycamores, a tributary of the creek cuts through the property. Mixed forest rises steeply to one side; across the water lie more meadows and part of the former walnut orchard rising to a high wall of chaparral. Trees and shrubs include madrone, big leaf maple, bay laurel, scrub oak, snowberry and California buckeye. Eagles, wild turkeys and mountain lions make their home on the land."

It was almost too much to have to decide between a longer hike, or learning more about photography, staying down in the canyon or going higher... I ended up staying with David as he explained how he chooses a picture.

His very high resolution camera had to be on a tripod, and he let us look through the view finder to see the lines formed by a small tree and the branches of a bigleaf maple. It was surprisingly challenging to get the light just right -- in my photo, the lichen ended up a little overexposed. 

But the tree was majestic, and its big leaves treasures scattered everywhere. 

At the second photo stop, David showed us a photo he had made, and contrasted it with an overexposed photo of the same scene. But when he started talking about the histogram -- which you need to examine to avoid an overexposed picture -- most of us got a slightly dazed look on our face. Still, it was a beautiful location for a shot, with the green leaves lit from behind and the tree trunks forming an intriguing pattern in the front. 

By general agreement, we were let loose to explore a bit. Walking along the canyon, we saw remnants of the walnut orchard.

California buckeye ready to drop their fruit for the next generation of trees.

And Holodiscus biscolor (creambush) with impossibly large seedpods.

Splitting up into smaller groups, we all had a chance to follow our passion, make a few more photos, look for a few more special birds, or just drink it all in. It felt good to know that POST has already transferred this property to Santa Clara County Parks and Recreation, and that the county is planning to make public access possible in the future. Meanwhile, what a treat to visit, and to see things like this rickety bridge (which will surely be removed as a safety hazard before the property opens).

(For all those here in the area who are interested in POST, I encourage you to donate or at least get tickets to the Wallace Stegner Lecture Series. Who knows, we might meet there -- though I don't always wear the mouse ears...)