The ocean. The desert. California’s oak-studded coastal hills. They are all beautiful, but each of us has a favorite – a landscape that strums a chord deep inside. For me, it is the glacier-scoured granite expanses of the high Sierra. The occasional tree cover makes for a wide landscape. A wanderer can clearly see distant peaks, and no matter which way he or she may wander, the way is clear. It’s not easy, but when one looks down from the distant view, he is likely to find a gentle stream sliding past a garden of shooting stars and elephant heads. What is this delicate beauty doing amid such rough rocky country?
Wright Lakes Basin is a perfect example, and this image shows why. Gnarly foxtail pines make a living amid granite boulders; a creek tumbles toward the Kern River; the Great Western Divide as a backdrop. Good Lord.
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The wet winter of 2016-2017 was one of those that wildflower lovers long for. In California, when they come, the show is in the desert. Features on the CBS Evening News and NPR from Anza Borrego Desert State Park confirmed that the display was epic. Friends who had gone there in prior wet years returned with enthusiastic reports of jaw-dropping sights. I was not going to miss out this time.
I found an airbnb in Julian, only a one-hour drive from Borrego Springs, but as different as a landscape can be. At an elevation of 4,226 feet, Julian sits at the crest of the Cuyamaca Mountains that drain all the moisture from east bound storm clouds leaving little for Anza Borrego and the desert beyond. 
Here are a few shots from that spot. It was lovely indeed, but such a vast park beckons a visitor to quieter corners. So, I ventured out, but a park this size is a feast that can only be weakly sampled on a three-day visit. In my next few posts, I will share some images of simpler beauty away from the busy loop road. 
Wherever we chose to roll out our bags, each of us was enchanted with Miter Basin. The rim of the basin is surrounded by 13,000′ peaks, and each recess above holds a mountain lake with its own unique charm. Beautiful fall reds colored a ground-hugging mosaic of alpine flora. Daybreak songs of a coyote choir echoed up and down the granite walls, adding to the mystery and magic.
I recently wrote a post about adventure; the notion that the urge for it is a greater motivator than we recognize. I suggested that 49ers came to California as much for the adventure as for the prospect of striking it rich. As evidence, I offered the testimony of many who went to a later gold rush: the Klondike in 1898-9. As with the California Gold Rush, virtually everyone returned empty-handed, but most who were interviewed by author Pierre Berton looked back on that time with fondness and satisfaction.
We often buttress our case to do something new and exciting with “reasons,” but more and more, I think the real reason we want to do it is because it is new and exciting; aka an adventure.
I’m not supposed to say that. It’s not PC. “Digger” is a condescending term that was used by early Eurpoean settlers to characterize some of the Native Americans in the Great Basin and in California who dug in the soil for roots and bulbs. One of our native pines inhereted that moniker as its common name, but the modern day arbiters of politeness say no, it must be changed. So, the digger pine has become the gray pine, or the ghost pine, or the foothill pine. I like digger pine. It is a good reminder of just how mean and insensitive we can be.
I am never quite sure what the exact recipe is for a great spring wildflower display. While I enjoy botanizing in California’s Coast Range and in the Sierra, I know just enough to be dangerous. I’m likely to concoct some groundless theory and assert it as fact. But based on the significant rainfall we have had thus far, I wonder if this spring could be a memorable one.
Naturally, rain is a must, but there have been many so-so spring blooms after a wet winter; other factors certainly play a part. It makes sense that during the recent drought years viable wildflower seeds have not received enough water to sprout. Perhaps through the sparse blooms of recent springs that seeds have been accumulating waiting for a winter like we are having now. With an average amount of rainfall during the rest of the California winter, maybe we will see a spring bloom like 1997.
Do you buy it? I may be way off base, but it sounds good.
If you have ever wondered what California looked like before 38 million of us engineered it to meet our needs, allow William Brewer to take you on a guided tour.
To mark the 150th anniversary of the survey, Tom Hilton has created a blog (http://upanddowncalifornia.wordpress.com/) with posts linking dates 150 years apart. He includes maps, photographs, and links to related historical and natural history resources.