Spring: Trillium and birth

In 1982 after a tough winter in La Honda - a winter of wild storms, landslides, road closures, endless rain, power outages, a tree crushing my neighbor's house - at last the rain stopped, the wind stopped, the roads opened, the power came back, the trillium bloomed, and my third child was born.

The trillium. I'd never noticed them before. Suddenly they were everywhere in the forest around us, exquisitely scented, deeply sensual, lovely. And 3 days after the trillium arrived, Barb went into labor. It was a home birth, but not at our home. The pregnancy had been complicated; we lived too far out in the boondocks; so when she went into labor we gathered at another house that was just a few minutes from Stanford Hospital should the need arise.

Fortunately, the birth went smoothly. Our two kids watched while Doctor Don, our hippie obstetrician, did his job. That's Doctor Don in front:

After the long winter, the difficult pregnancy, a healthy boy:

The two older kids - and you can never be sure this will happen - welcomed him to the house:

In my mind, every year when the trillium arrive, I think of birth.

Spring: Wild cukes

Wild cucumber grows like mad all over the La Honda watershed.
Appropriate to the name of the season, the shoots are coiled like springs and when they grab hold, they stay attached.Their flowers are fuzzy and white,or fuzzy and yellow,and attract bugs. Which is their job.

Miner's Lettuce

You can eat these if you catch them before they flower. Actually, you can eat them after they flower, too, but they don't taste as good. They grow all along the trails and roadsides in La Honda. My kids used to gather them, and they make a lovely salad - sweet and fresh. During the gold rush the forty-niners appreciated them. Fresh food was always the real California gold.
Claytonia perfoliata of the Purslane family (Portulacaceae)

Forget-Me-Nots

They're late this year in La Honda. Something about the climate wasn't to their liking. But a misty fog clears, and they're here at last, in abundance.

It always fascinates me how the buds are pink, but the flowers quickly turn to that rich blue as they are exposed to the light. Occasionally, I see one that remained pink (always in a shadow). Then with more exposure, the deep blue fades to a pale shade.

Myosotis Latifolia. Of the Borage family (Boraginaceae).

Quince

It isn't exactly a wildflower, but somebody planted this quince more than 50 years ago in front of my house, and it has expanded ever since. The first buds appear right after the winter solstice. By New Year's Day, there are flowers. It lifts my heart every year to see this first celebration of the new light. It keeps blooming through June. Nobody prunes or waters or tends this tenacious, rugged plant. Here in the mountains beneath a redwood canopy, it's made itself a home.

Milkmaids

Milkmaids, also known as Toothworts. Always one of the first wildflowers of the year around here. Or, in Latin, Cardamine californica (Brassicaceae).