When I think Easter I think of springtime and flowers, even though in most of the places I’ve lived those flowers are still a couple of months away. They’re not this year, though, as I’m in the California desert, chasing the wildflowers. And one of my favorite desert wildflowers is the Ajo Lily, also known as the Desert Lily.
Arroyo del Salado campground
When it comes to lilies, I really lucked out this year. I’ve been spending a lot of time this past month in Anza Borrego State Park, staying in the Arroyo del Salado primitive campground. And Arroyo del Salado has been Desert Lily Central.
A few lilies in one of my campsites in Arroyo del Salado
I thought I’d share a few of those lilies with you, being that it’s Easter and all.
Desert Lilies grow and change, evolving over time.
I think one of the reasons Desert Lilies are a favorite is that each plant is so unique, such an individual. That’s not the case with all wildflowers. Sand Verbena, for instance. Don’t get me wrong, I absolutely love Sand Verbena, one of the sweetest scented flowers in the desert. But one patch of sand verbena does not look that different from another. Lilies are different.
Sand Verbena flowers are just not as unique as Desert Lilies!
Maybe it’s because desert lilies do not grow as thickly as some other desert wildflowers. Like me, these plants need their space! They’re not “city” flowers, they avoid the crowds. They prefer room to grow and express their individuality.
They’re not antisocial, they just don’t want to be crowded!
Like people, they grow and change over time, as all their blossoms don’t bloom at once. They stretch it out and take their time. It’s fun to watch each individual plant evolve.
Desert Lilies in Arroyo del Salado
The desert lilies aren’t the only wildflowers blooming in Anza Borrego. I’ve been spending my time in Anza Borrego because, during March, more desert wildflowers were blooming there than anywhere else.
Wildflowers on Henderson Canyon Road, Anza Borrego State Park
Within the last few days, though, some of the other wildflower hotspots, like the south end of Joshua Tree National Park, have finally started putting on a show. Chia, Desert Dandelions and Mexican Poppies are filling the fields. Look in the washes for nice displays of Canterbury Bells and Chuparosa. Further north in Wiilson Canyon Wooly Daisies, Tickseed and Bladderpod are lighting up the landscape in gold.
Canterbury Bells in Joshua Tree National Park
I’m looking forward to a very colorful April as I slowly make my way back North, following the flowers. But for right now, spending Easter with the Desert Lilies of Anza Borrego is a perfect place to be!
What does spring mean to me? That’s the question posed by Sofia of Photographias in this week’s Lens-Artists Photography Challenge. For me, spring equals two things: road tripping and wildflowers.
Ajo Lilies in Anza Borrego State Park
This way of celebrating spring started for me when I used to work winters as a ranger in Death Valley National Park. There, I fell in love with the desert spring bloom. You would not think a land that averaged less than 2 inches of rain a year would have many wildflowers. Surprisingly though, in more years than not, it does. Due to the great diversity of landscapes and elevations, even in a dry year you can find some wildflowers somewhere.
Wildflowers in Death Valley’s Saline Valley
It can be one of the most astounding natural events you’ll ever witness in a good year. During a Superbloom, the flowers start in January and just keep coming. Dry, rocky, barren land is suddenly completely carpeted with color. The variety is phenomenal. They are so thick on the ground that you can hardly take a step without crushing a half dozen blooms. Once I saw a real superbloom, I never wanted to miss another.
Superbloom in Joshua Tree
So I started following the bloom. I would spend a lot of time in February and March traveling between my two favorite desert wildflower spots, Death Valley and Anza-Borrego State Park, and spending a few days at Joshua Tree National Park along the way.
The wildflowers should be amazing in Carrizo Plain by mid-April.
Slowly starting my trip back home to Alaska in early April, I would try to visit Carrizo Plain National Monument. In a good year, this is the best place ever to see wildflowers. Despite the hype that is out there, this year is not a superbloom year. For that, you need a good soaker storm in the fall to get the seeds going. California did not receive all that rain until January. Carrizo Plain is starting to get some color but no big displays yet. I think it could be fantastic in a couple more weeks, though, as more and more flowers germinated in January bloom.
Wildflowers could be incredible in the Sierra Nevada foothills, too.
Traveling north, I edge along the western foothills of the Sierra and make a fly-by visit to Yosemite’s waterfalls, another spring phenomenon. I think the Sierra foothills are where the real superbloom will happen this spring.
Redwood Sorrel
I would continue north through the Redwood Sorrel and Trilliums of northern California to my last big spring wildflower extravaganza, in the Siskiyou Mountains of southern Oregon. Since there were very few wildflowers blooming further north, I would beeline home from there, going back into winter along the way.
Arrowleaf Balsamroot in the Siskiyou Mountains
This year is a little different. I have spent the entire winter in one spot, northern Washington’s Orcas Island. I’ve kept my carbon footprint low, only using two tanks of gas through the entire winter.
Red Warrior
But that’s about to change. Although there are domestic flowers beginning to bloom here now – crocuses, hellebore, fruit trees – there are no wildflowers. As I said last week, domestic flowers don’t thrill me. I need a wildflower fix before I head back into winter.
Fawn Lily
So starting April 2, I’m road tripping down to the closest place where I can see good wildflowers, the Siskiyous in southern Oregon. I’m in love with the trees of that region also, so I am really looking forward to it. I’ll visit a few friends and a few beaches along the way down, too.
Shooting Stars
When I start heading home from there, I may detour into the southern Cascades for a day or two in search of mossy waterfalls to photograph. It all depends on how far spring has progressed by then.
I’ll be looking for waterfalls, too.
As I move north of the border, it’s time to start looking for spring wildlife instead of spring flowers. If I take the AlCan Highway, I may be rewarded by sightings of Woodland Caribou and the rare Stone Sheep. I will certainly see Wood Bison on that route. If I take the Cassiar, I will probably catch a glimpse of a bear or two.
Stone Sheep
By the time I reach the Yukon, I will have traveled back into winter. Well, it will look a bit like winter anyhow. Actually, it will be that in-between season, known in the Northland as Breakup.
It’s still winter in the Yukon in April.
Breakup is a rough time to try to travel off the paved roads. The snow is soft and soggy and will collapse and suck you in. It’s slick and icy in the morning from all the melted water. Wherever it’s not snowy, it’s muddy. The rivers, no longer frozen, are running full, and full of ice. Springtime in Alaska.
But there are signs of Breakup.
There’s a third thing spring means to me. Home. It won’t be long before I’m home, back in McCarthy, trying to figure out how to negotiate the lake in my ATV trail and the downed trees on my walking path. But that’s another story for another time. Right now it’s spring!
I’m in the middle of the long dark now. The sun barely rises by 10:00 AM. Then a few minutes after 3:00, it’s already setting. I’m definitely feeling the effects of SAD syndrome. It feels like the long dark night of my soul, too.
Crimson Columbine
The weather this week doesn’t help. It’s cold, windy, grey, gloomy, rainy, sleety, icy – pretty much everything I dread about winter in Alaska. It feels like the grimmest month of the grimmest year of my life.
Sparrow’s-Egg Ladyslippers
I need to escape. Most winters I can do this physically, like birds and whales, overcoming the dark and dreariness by heading south and avoiding it altogether. Due to Covid, that really wasn’t an option this year.
Lupines
But there is a way out. A way to make my winter escape. I can travel in my mind, trading the monochrome greys outside my door for brighter, happier shades, traveling back in time through my photo files to the vibrant colors of summer wildflowers in the Wrangells.
Round-Leaved Orchid
“Opportunities to find deeper powers within ourselves come when life seems most challenging.” – Joseph Campbell
Wild Roses along the McCarthy Road
Perhaps you too are feeling the drain from this long dark scary winter. Is the adversity and uncertainty so many of us are experiencing right now getting you down, too? Join me then on this journey in my mind, a winter escape to a bright and peaceful land filled with the ephemeral beauty of my favorite subject, wildflowers.
