I'll Have a Bluuuuuue Schist Christmas, Without You!

 Blue Schist is a rare beauty made from volcanic basalt. This patch at Edgewood, metamorphosed at high pressure and low temperature from deeply subducted oceanic crust.

   

Hawks Ahead - Hiking Edgewood

My Kind of Study Break

A Red-Tail Hawk, I think.

Using my low-level cell phone camera, and was I glad I had it.

I'd been focusing on learning about what triggers mass wasting. She's was focusing on finding supper.  I think she missed out on her opportunity, as I came around the corner feet away from her in the grass, wrestling with something small and ground-dwelling.


What a reward for studious effort.

Adenostoma fasciculatum - Looking a little seedy ain't yah?

Please click on the illustration above to fully enjoy this beauty

Adenostoma fasciculatum
Chamise graces the chaparral at Edgewood Park

Edgewood Shale Once an Ocean?

Edgewood Shale, The ultimate in Time Travel
Ancient Muds Tells Us Still Waters Once Lay Deep Here

California Summertime

Summer time is dry
Baking Edgewood wildflowers
Deep below seeds wait

By the Waterfall: Late Blooming Honeysuckle

There are a few stray blooms of honeysuckle blooming in latish June near the waterfall on the Sylvan Trail in Edgewood Park. This is one of my favorite spots for a bit of time travel. You just couldn't find a better time portal than a shady glen like this.

It's the spot where I took a short trip back to visit with an Ohlone Rumsen family group last fall. Remember? Here's the story

        - Indian Summer at Edgewood (No. 1) Creekside 

        - Indian Summer at Edgewood (No 2) : Oak Apples

       - Indian Summer at Edgewood (No. 3): Rose Hips

(Co-Published with my newest blog Hiking Edgewood.)

Mariposa: The Time Travellin' Spud (Hiking Edgewood)

Click on my Jolly Mariposa Lily Illustration Above to Get Up Close and Personal 

With This Native Darling

Mariposa, as I bet you know, is the Spanish word for "butterfly". That was what this beauty's petals, apparently, made some early botanist thing about when they first saw this late spring/early summer flower.

On my morning study break, I took a time travel jaunt back to the middle of the 18'th century. There I found that the native Lamishan (an Ohlone people) think it's equally fanciable as a taste treat.  The group I met up with were digging up the bulbs of this (as we'll as some of the  other local Calochortus). One of the women told me that her cousins up valley usually boil or roast them. Her folks, however, like them fried. The results looked, and tasted, much like what  I do with a friendly spud.