Coastal Botanical

Son “Pathfinder” came from Oregon to see his sister Kate’s family, and we six packed into his truck to drive out to the coast for the day, to hike along a ridge trail and also picnic on the beach. As usual, I lagged behind half the time, making discoveries every few feet of interesting grasses and flowers, and trying to learn or remember their names.

California Aster a.k.a. Pacific Coast Aster

The wind was blowing up on the bluffs, but on the beach the air was still, and Kate was able to slice cheese in her lap and pass it around to the rest of us with nary a grain of sand involved.

Black Mustard

I’m showing several instances of Coastal Buckwheat, one of my favorite plants, with blooms more or less faded from the original pastel pink. It just now occurs to me that one reason I love it may be that those gray and pink colors were also featured in my grandma’s bathroom when I was a child. The bees appreciate it for their own reasons.

Below, a mixture of catsear and lotus combined to create a carpet of yellow:

Another contributor to the sunny tone was the Seaside Woolly Sunflower:

Seaside Woolly Sunflower

The grasses were swaying back and forth in the wind — European Marram Grass, my Seek app told me — and my favorite Rattlesnake Grass was abundant.

European Marram Grass
Rattlesnake Grass

European Searocket

To eat our snacky lunch, we gathered around a minimalist and rickety teepee someone else had built, because there was a nice log beside it that seated five nicely. In the foreground here is Tetragonia tetragonioides, which I’ve always known as New Zealand Spinach, but the actual New Zealanders usually call it  warrigal. There’s a better-watered specimen of this plant that keeps volunteering in my backyard garden:

A pink sport from the usual white native yarrow.

Pathfinder patiently discussed with me ways to tell two members of the Carrot Family apart, plants that grow in a similar habitat and that I’ve repeatedly mixed up over the decades. He noticed the different leaf shape and type: Cow Parsnip has large, deeply toothed leaves:

Cow Parsnip

…while Angelica — in this case Henderson’s Angelica — has pinnately compound leaves.

Henderson’s Angelica

Their flowers aren’t exactly the same, either, and there are other differences. Once I saw the two plants growing right next to each other; that helped, for a time. Unfortunately the Seek app that I use a lot does not have a search feature; but if it did, I would probably be even more distracted from enjoying the plants themselves. So I guess it’s just as well.

Coastal Buckwheat with yarrow and more.

It was a very satisfying outing, even if several of us did get sunburned. That was opportunity to take advantage of a backyard botanical: my Aloe Vera plant, the leaves of which we peeled on one side, revealing the gelatinous interior, which we applied to red arms and neck. Oh, so soothing.

Our whole crew slept well that night!

chickory

Summer ought to be warm.

Daughter Kate and her family are visiting me for a while, so I’ve been occupied with them and not thinking about my blog. But today they are visiting friends in another city, and I walked around the garden where a pollinator party is ongoing….

This time it was a Cabbage White butterfly that got my attention, in the midst of bees who were also enjoying the lavender.

All the nectar-drinking creatures seem to be luxuriating in the heat; when they luxuriate it means they are all limbered up and move more easily, and faster. At least, that’s how it seems to  me. I feel that way, except for the faster part.

Kabocha squash growing bigger…

Many of the calendulas are spent, but this one just opened:

Before my family arrived, I tried a new zucchini bread recipe to have ready for them. I used this one from the New York Times Cooking site, but cut the sugar by half, and doubled the lemon zest: Olive Oil Zucchini Bread. (If you use this link you can access the recipe, that I am “giving” you.) It’s quite delicious. Unfortunately, I had to buy the zucchinis for it! I guess I didn’t sow my seeds in a good place, as the plants are not growing. I will have to wait longer to have a satisfying summer squash harvest. It’s been years since I’ve been satisfied that way.

I had a longing to make real strawberry shortcake, using the shortcake recipe from my oldest edition of the Joy of Cooking. We ate it for Rigo’s belated seventh birthday party. That recipe called for a little butter, plus “milk or cream.” Note to self: Don’t use all cream! Everyone loved it, but it was super rich.

We are all about soccer this week, as my dear people brought me their zeal for the sport and for the World Cup happening right now. I’ve watched two games with them already, and expect to see two more, including the final game this weekend. My children all played on recreational soccer teams as youths and I do love watching. These professionals are incredible athletes, and I am constantly amazed. Kate’s family have just moved from Argentina, and are excited that Argentina is still in the playoffs. When Raj and Rigo built a Lego street scene, it included a soccer field with a game and spectators. Go, Argentines!

I have nothing belonging to me.

“What do I need? I need nothing on earth, except for the indispensable. What do I need? I need the Lord, I need His grace, His kingdom within me. On earth, the place of my pilgrimage, my temporary instruction, I have nothing belonging to me: everything is God’s, everything is transitory, indicated for temporary use. Whatever I have in excess belongs not to me, but to my poorer brothers.

“What do I need? I need true, Christian, living, active love. I need a loving heart, compassion for my neighbors, I need to feel joy at their happiness and well-being, sorrow during their sorrows and sicknesses, compassion for their sins, infirmities, disorders, deficiencies, misfortunes, poverty. I need warm, sincere sympathy for them in all the circumstances of their lives, to rejoice with those who rejoice, and to weep with those who weep.”

My Life in Christ: The Spiritual Journals of St John of Kronstadt by Ivan Ilyich Sergiev

St. John of Kronstadt was a beloved priest and spiritual father in the latter half of the 19th century, and into the 20th. His pastoral care and guidance in the spiritual life did much to prepare his flock for the sufferings they were to endure in the coming decades. He was born in 1829 and died in 1909. If you want to read more about him, here is a long article with his life story and many more quotes revealing his ministry of charity and encouragement: “Saint John of Kronstadt.”

Here is one paragraph from the article, to give you a glimpse of the character of this pastor:

“How did he manage to do it all? He had the ability – acquired, no doubt, by prayer and patience – to snatch a short period of deep sleep wherever and whenever he got the chance; and he had a great love of the early morning hours for prayer and meditation, but his early morning walks in his garden were soon discovered, and then – farewell to solitude! Often, indeed, he could barely save half-an-hour for his own prayers. On the rare occasions when he was able to pass a whole day in Kronstadt he liked to walk in the streets toward midnight, praying and meditating: if he saw a light, however, he would knock – often to comfort someone ill or dying, but just as ready to join in laughter and cheerful conversation, if that should be what he found. It is not surprising that he had moments of depression through sheer fatigue; he had been beset in the same way in his student days, then later he overcame them, as he overcame all, as he achieved all, by prayer and, above all, by devout reception of the holy communion.”

Cathedral of St Andrew in Kronstadt – destroyed in Soviet times.

 

To the evening star.

TO THE EVENING STAR

Thou fair-haired angel of the evening,
Now, whilst the sun rests on the mountains, light
Thy bright torch of love; thy radiant crown
Put on, and smile upon our evening bed!
Smile on our loves, and, while thou drawest the
Blue curtains of the sky, scatter thy silver dew
On every flower that shuts its sweet eyes
In timely sleep. Let thy west wind sleep on
The lake; speak silence with thy glimmering eyes,
And wash the dusk with silver. Soon, full soon,
Dost thou withdraw; then the wolf rages wide,
And the lion glares through the dun forest.
The fleeces of our flocks are covered with
Thy sacred dew; protect with them with thine influence.

-William Blake