August 15, 2007 @ 11:43 pm | Filed under: California landmarks, Family Adventures, Nature Study, Outings
It was a bit humbling to arrive here on the West Coast and realize much of my flora-and-fauna expertise was now obsolete. I don’t know the plants out here yet. Oh, sure, I could identify a bird of paradise or a palm tree—but what kind of palm tree? Got me.
Of course this just makes for a nice new sort of adventure to have with the kids, and honestly, that’s the kind of thing I like best: having a new topic of study to sink my teeth into.
I picked up a couple of field guides and also buried myself in issues of Sunset magazine, a supercool housewarming gift from a certain other East Coast transplant (which: Thank you again, my dear). Lots of local nature centers and gardens have plant labels along their paths, too, and we’ve been slowly educating ourselves that way. But the biggest coup was meeting Julia.
Julia is a young woman we bumped into at a May Fair last, um, May. She and her friend were passing out fliers for a nature studies summer camp, which sounded wonderful but didn’t fit our summer plans. We got to chatting, though, and it quickly became apparent that Julia was just the person I’d been looking for. I’d had a vague idea of hiring a college student to go on some nature walks with us, or even just walks in our neighborhood so we could learn the local landscaping plants. I’m telling you, we’re starting from square one out here!
Julia, it turns out, is an avid urban forager. This news made Jane light up. Back in Virginia, Jane attended several sessions of a nature studies camp, during which she learned (among a lot of other things) to eat her way through the woods and fields and suburban backyards. She got all the other kids in the neighborhood hooked on chickweed as a tasty, iron-rich snack and violets for vitamin C.
But about Julia. I explained what I was looking for, and we exchanged email addresses, and though it took us a while to coordinate dates, we finally managed to schedule a nature hike at Mission Trails, a large natural area close enough to home that I can take my kids there on a regular basis. We have made several visits there already and have fallen in love with its rugged, scrubby hills and rich history.
Yesterday afternoon, I dropped Rose and Jane off at the park entrance, where Julia was waiting with a smile and a backpack full of surprises. ("Grapes, Mommy! She brought grapes for us!") Of course I would have loved to go too, but this outing was a bit more than my younger set could handle. We went to the Super Exciting Grocery Store instead.
Julia had suggested an evening hike for the cooler weather and more active wildlife. And sure enough, the trekkers came home full of stories about the coyote they’d seen, and bats, and birds.
Rose said her favorite part was the twenty minutes the girls spent sitting in silence on a boulder, listening.
"At first I could only hear people noises, Mommy. But then I started to hear lots of birds, and some crickets, and wind and things rustling."
Jane filled a page in her nature book with what she called "sound sketches"—little pencil marks in waves and peaks representing the different sounds she heard. It was really pretty amazing, the way she could look at her cryptic markings and demonstrate the bird calls for me, or the sound of a bullfrog plopping into a pond.
Rose sketched the things she saw: the San Diego River, a fallen tree, a stump that looked like a dog’s head until she got close, a heart-shaped marking on a tree trunk. "I couldn’t tell whether the heart was made by a person or an animal or just Nature," she told me. During the silent listening time, she imagined a whole story about the heart, and although it was nearly nine o’clock by the time the girls were home and had torn themselves away from Julia, revealer of mysteries, Rose insisted upon writing down her story before she went to bed. She didn’t want to forget. Julia had shown the girls flat stones with rounded indentations where Kumeyaay Indian woman had long ago ground their grain. Rose imagined that the tree-trunk heart was carved by an Indian boy, but his beloved had died before he finished the carving and so the tree had finished the heart itself, curving its bark so as to complete the heart.
How blessed are we? I was looking, you know, for our "breezy open," and here it is handed to us on a stone platter, complete with a gentle and enthusiastic guide who knows the way to open a child’s heart is with grapes and a quiet space in which to listen to the wind, the coyotes, and the stories carved on trees by time and imagination.
Fortuna Peak at Mission Trails Regional Park
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Oh, Lissa, this is beautiful. What observant (and imaginative) children you have! And what a blessing to have found Julia!
Posted on August 16th, 2007 at 6:00 amOhhhhh! I remember that park very fondly. I wish I had Julia to take us around. Either it makes for a very pleasant walk.
Posted on August 16th, 2007 at 6:57 amSo wonderful!
Posted on August 16th, 2007 at 12:32 pmSounds perfect! I know what you mean about having to learn a whole new set of flora and fauna. I wish I had an Alaskan Julia!
Posted on August 16th, 2007 at 1:22 pmWhat a wonderful evening for Jane and Rose, Lissa. How fortunate you are to have met Julia — I’ll have to keep looking for our Julia (or MacBeth) to help us discover nature.
Posted on August 16th, 2007 at 2:14 pmso funny that you write about this now – I was just thinking there should be a website called “what kind of plant is this?” where you could post a picture of a plant, and maybe some kind, knowing gardener – professional or amateur could tell you. Maybe, like Sunset magazine, it could have regional sections – so that east coasters like us could ask the west coasters for help.
When you come to LA we can go to Huntington Gardens, where every plant is LABELED. *swoon*
I have yet another otherworldly plant in my front yard bursting into bloom and it’s lovely – but I have no idea what it is! Time for pictures!
Also, I want a Julia.
Also, I clicked on the link above, completely forgetting about that subscription. Boy was I surprised! Every day is a new day for me…
Posted on August 17th, 2007 at 7:54 amIt sounds wonderful, and so does the Amazing Julia!
Posted on August 17th, 2007 at 4:53 pmThis sounds so wonderful – an absolute blessing!
Posted on August 17th, 2007 at 8:42 pmWhat a wonderful trip that must have been!
Posted on August 19th, 2007 at 7:50 amWe have been enjoying the outside, also.
Places I’ve Learned about Plants — Here in the Bonny Glen says:
[...] “At First I Could Only Hear People Sounds” [...]
Posted on August 15th, 2008 at 11:56 amThat’s funny about the chickweed. Just today, my 4yo was bemoaning the fact that the garden was baren of “tasty snacks.” I taught her how to identify dandelion leaves and chickweed and she grazed bare a patch of chickweed. She said the dandelion was too bitter, that “maybe some agave nectar would sweeten it up.” Your quotes about Rilla sound so much like my D.
Posted on February 28th, 2010 at 12:48 pm