March, 2010 by Nhu Nguyan Reproduced here with permission. Adapted slightly for the web, with additional photos by the author. (Click on thumbnails to see the larger photographs in a new window. Some are large - up to 350 KB; close window to return.)
Editor's note: Although Nhu Nguyen says he is "classified as a mycologist," he combines a deep love of plants with a passion for travel and photography. He is a graduate student at the University of California Berkeley and a painter. Don't miss his inspiring photo collections at http://www.flickr.com/photos/xerantheum/. Point Reyes National Seashore is about 20 miles north of San Francisco, as the crow flies, on the outer edge of Marin County. It's a great place for birding and botanizing. For more information and directions, go to www.nps.gov/pore . I start my journey at the beginning of the 7.5-mile (12 km) Limantour Road in Point Reyes National Seashore, heading toward the ocean during the first week of spring. After passing through a small field, the road is quickly swallowed by a forest dominated by the extremely pungent California bay laurel (Umbellularia californica) mixed with beautiful coast live oak (Quercus agrifolia) and Douglas fir (Pseudotsuga menziesii). This evergreen forest gives shade and home to many understory fungi, plants, and animals and often tinges the air with the scent of laurel. The smooth road climbs steadily upward and soon vestiges of Bishop pines (Pinus muricata) appear. About halfway along, something alarming and artificial sweeps away the naturalness of the place. All the bay laurels, live oaks, and Douglas firs have disappeared, replaced by what appear to be monoculture stands of medium-sized pine trees of the same age. It looks as if these trees grew so thickly that they tried to choke each other out. What horrible forestry service person cut down the forest and planted just pine trees? It turns out this was actually a natural event. Fifteen years ago in October 1995 the Mt. Vision Fire swallowed a great chunk of the park, the result of an illegal campfire. The most recent large fire before this had occurred 69 years earlier. This blaze cleared out most standing trees. Soon afterward millions of Bishop pine seedlings sprouted and colonized the area. These trees are closed-cone pines that release their seeds only when there is enough heat to open the cones. They are extremely well adapted to areas with periodic fires. Now the trees are starting to thin themselves out in a race where only the strongest survives.
Drive down a steep slope, then climb up again, and the land magically opens. The trees have disappeared and are replaced by coyote bush (Baccharis pilularis), forbs, and grasses. Suddenly I am on top of a ridge extending toward the ocean. To the left are green rolling hills and in the distance appears the glimmering light of the Pacific Ocean. Then purple flowers appear along the roadside - Iris douglasiana! The promise of many more is just minutes away. And so the minutes pass. The sight of the ocean becomes clearer and the irises become more and more numerous. Here they elevate themselves above the natural green lawns that hug the hills. Their dark and tough foliage pierces the air and is softened only by their flowing purple petals. Patches after huge patches of irises cover the landscape with thousands of flowers wedged among them. This is iris euphoria!
The flowers are mostly of one color, but once in a while something darker and more intense pops up, then something else of such pale lilac that it appears almost white stands out even more. The clean and crisp ocean air drapes around the landscape as the bright sun provides what little warmth it can manage. The irises do not seem to be at all deterred by the cold wind and surely enjoy the sunshine. A short walk to the top of one hill and I find a perfect patch, in full view of the ocean and Drake's Beach. Hundreds of years ago, Sir Francis Drake landed on these shores marked by hills cut away by the waves leaving white, sandy, almost vertical wounds. I could grow envious of these irises, living a simple life with a spectacular view of the blue ocean, surrounded by clean crisp air and glorious sunlight. It's time for me to leave, but there is no despair because next spring there will surely be another Pilgrimage to the Irises.
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