Before going to Bluesapalooza, I mentioned that I managed to get a hike in. I finally was able to go to the Minarets viewpoint by the trail, rather than the road - the last two times I was here, the trail was completely covered with snow. As was the road, come to think of it:
But yesterday, there were only small patches of snow, and I was able to be on the trail, hiking under trees. For me, the high Sierra come with a scent memory that is so powerful that whenever we come to the mountains and I stop and close my eyes and inhale, a goofy grin comes over me - it's the scent of sun-warmed pine needles and decomposing granite. There's really nothing else like it in the world.
Back to the baby trees. I first noticed baby oaks on my favorite walk (more on that another time). And then, when we were here in June, we stepped out into a clearing surrounded by Jeffrey pines, and all over the ground, everywhere, there were baby pines, still with their little pine nut seed caps. I don't know if you can see those little brown caps on top of the needles, but that's what they are.
It's amazing to me - they are so tenacious, so small. I can't quite imagine how they get from this state to their huge, long-lived adult selves. I found myself treading very carefully anytime I stepped off the trail. And coming right behind them is the next year's crop:
2 comments:
Oh, those adorable baby pines. Unlike the notorious baby box elders that spring up like armies every spring in the garden beds. And grow vigorously, working hard to turn the asparagus patch into a forest.
I admit, I defend the baby asparagus.
Snow in august... so weird to me!
I haven't noticed baby trees (though we are in suburbia and I haven't gotten out to the wild much)
I have noticed an increase in Robins this year... we've watched so many of them fledge in our back yard. So cool!
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