Mill Valley Red, Part Two

More red things seen out and about in Mill Valley. Click to enlarge any photo.

Mill Valley Red, Part One

A compendium of red things recently seen in Mill Valley. Click to enlarge any photo.

Photos by Susan Sachs Lipman

Dear Deer

Recently we noticed a deer family in our driveway that included the smallest baby deer we’d ever seen. I would guess it had been born within a couple of days.

The parents (or elders, anyway) seemed to urge it to go up the hill with them into the wooded area by our house. But they traveled much more swiftly, leaving the baby deer to take a few wobbly steps on its own, before collapsing from the effort beneath a safe, shady tree.

I was able to get pretty close as it lay there. I moved slowly and tried not to rattle it.

When our daughter was 2 and ready to shed her pacifiers, we told her they were needed by the new baby deer who were born in the spring, and she came with us to leave a bag out for them. I watched this little deer as it heaved the deep breaths of a newborn, its spotted coat moving up and down, and I thought, he could probably use a pacifier.

At some point he gamely took another couple of steps, then lay back down. I was glad he felt safe enough to stay in his little spot. When I came back from some errands, he was gone. I saw an adult deer nearby, which I took as a good sign that the deer family had come back for this little one and were watching out for one another. I figure we’ll watch this baby deer grow up, even though deer grow so fast, we may never be sure which one let me watch (and record) its first steps.

Daffodils: Bunches of Spring Sunshine

Daffodils are such cheery spring flowers. I love them in bunches. Like sweet peas and stock, they have a humble country appeal. The ancient Egyptians, Greeks and Romans apparently loved them, too, as did Shakespeare, who praised them thusly in A Winter’s Tale: “Daffodils, That come before the swallow dares, and take the winds of March with beauty.”

Then, even given all that, this harbinger of Spring inexplicably disappeared from gardens until the late 1800s, when a Scotsman named Peter Barr actually went daffodil hunting on horse- and muleback, bearing only a picture of the lovely flower. With the help of other English and Scotsmen, the bulbs he collected were cultivated in the British Isles, the Netherlands and the U.S., so that this ancient flower now blooms again all around the world, as well as on my deck. Thank you, Peter Barr, intrepid daffodil hunter!

Daffodils

By William Wordsworth

I wander’d lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o’er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the Milky Way,
They stretch’d in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company:
I gazed — and gazed — but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.

Photos by Susan Sachs Lipman

Springtime at Macy’s

We recently took a foray to the Macy’s Flower Show in San Francisco.

The theme this year was “A Bohemian Garden”.

This was the 63rd year that flowers bloomed inside the department store.

The Flower Show is renowned and also occurred this Spring in New York, Philadelphia, Minneapolis, and Chicago.

The tradition began in Macy’s Union Square, which hosted the first ever department store flower show, right after World War II. It was created to promote the store’s perfume.

In a rough retail year, and an even harsher flower-show year (with venerable shows calling it quits), it was nice to see even a scaled-down version of spring pastels, floral magic, and a little fantasy. Even The Teen liked it.

Photos by Susan Sachs Lipman

Wildflowers in Bloom

You could forgive us Bay Area types for going gaga for the outdoors in Spring. This is our time of year. The hills are green and spotted with wildflowers, so that they appear Alpine. The blue Bay glistens. The sun shining, the ferry boat captains sound their gleeful air horns, their vessels trailing streaks of foam.

Come July, we’ll be bundled in woolens while people in less maritime summer climates swat mosquitoes from lawn chairs, the sun still hanging in the sky at Nine.

Think about it: One 4th of July, when my daughter was little, she was given a prize at a BBQ for “Best Red Coat”. A coat!

But for now we bask in the sun, walk the trails, plant our own gardens, and marvel at the special wildflowers that need no planting, but faithfully — seemingly magically — return … with perhaps a little pollination push from a bee, a hummingbird, or the wind. Fairy Lanterns, Lady’s Tresses — Their names can be as whimsical and fleeting as they are.

Recently, on Ring Mountain in Tiburon, I had the good fortune to spot some special flowers and enjoy world-class views, all while getting a little workout on nature’s stairmaster. Ring Mountain happens to be home to the Tiburon Mariposa Lily, which grows nowhere else on the planet, but which isn’t due out until about June. It also happens to have been largely saved from developers by Phyllis Ellman, among others. (Thank you!) The main trail bears Phyllis’ name.

Suncups greeted me on my path. They were once used to scent wine, but I couldn’t smell anything.

I love the romantic, viney Vetch, as I do anything in the pea family.

“If the weather you would tell, Look at the Scarlet Pimpernel.” So it is said of this “Poor Man’s Weather Glass,” whose flowers open in sun and close when rain nears.

An Oakland Star Tulip sighting! Also known as the Oakland Mariposa Lily, it’s rare and stunning.

After a little climb, I was greeted by Milk Maids.

And pretty Blue-Eyed Grass, a cousin of the Iris.

And, Ta da! Poppies, the California State Flower. Spanish explorers, spying carpets of them, called California “Tierra del Fuego”, “Land of Fire”. Native Americans used Poppies to treat headaches and insomnia. I read that they were also used as some sort of love charm, but since it’s illegal to pick wildflowers, I didn’t get the chance to test the Poppy mojo.

Shooting Stars are magical. According to my “Discover California Wildflowers” book, Native American women wore them in their hair for ceremonies.

Another vintage plant, Mountain Pennyroyal, is still used to make a soothing tea, as it was for early settlers.

Irises love nice shady spots and are often found in groups. They’re so majestic and a thrill to come upon. In Greek mythology, Iris, the messenger of the Gods, was personified by a rainbow.

A Checker-Bloom: Another lovely sighting.

After a climb, I was rewarded with green hills and this stunning view across Richardson Bay to San Francisco.

600 feet up the mountain is Turtle Rock, a huge metamorphic boulder that was once on the ocean floor. I touched it to feel its history.

Some of the white serpentine rock on Ring Mountain is over 165 million years old and originated deep in the Earth’s mantle. The area is a rich geologic diary.

Looking across the fields into the network of paths put me in mind of the area’s Rancho past. Until it became Open Space (and narrowly averted development), Ring Mountain was owned by the first official Land Grantee in Marin, John Reed, and his generations of descendants. Cattle grazed on beautiful ranch land.

I drank in the view of Mt. Tamalpais and the Gold Field-dotted hills. It was hard to leave.

A Smattering of Gold Fields and Poppies.

I paused to take in some old-fashioned Tidy Tips.

On the way down, a solid gray snake slithered across my path. I did not stop to take a picture of it.

I felt like I had gone back into history, being among ancient land and grazing fields, where you can still look across to the same views from hundreds of years ago, still imagine the land when it was just being built on, and before. I felt fortunate to be alive on a stunning Spring day, taking time to notice the signs of Spring’s renewal, both subtle and grand, each delicate wildflower a fresh discovery.

To get to Ring Mountain, enter from Paradise Drive, coming from either Corte Madera or Tiburon. The trailhead is just west of Marin Country Day School. The Phyllis Ellman Loop Trail is 1.76 miles and very easy to follow.

These books were helpful in identifying wildflowers and providing other information:

Wildflowers of Marin, Lilian McHoul, Celia Elke

Discover California Wildflowers, MaryRuth Casebeer

California Spring Wildflowers, Philip A. Munz

Open Spaces, Lands of the Marin County Open Space District, Barry Spitz

Photos by Susan Sachs Lipman

Snapshot

Anna’s Bathroom in Springtime.

Photo by Susan Sachs Lipman

Snapshot

Carrots in Springtime.

Photo by Susan Sachs Lipman

Hayes Valley, SF: Black, White & Red all Over

A walk in Hayes Valley on a Friday in Spring.

Click on any photo to enlarge it. And then try it again.

Photos by Susan Sachs Lipman

Rockin’ Robin

Our mid-March mornings have been filled with the song of an American Robin. Its unmistakable, trilling “cheerio-cheerio-cheep” has served as a happy harbinger of Spring, not to mention a morning wake-up for the later-sleeping members of the family. Listen to the robin in our trees.