What Reeks in Mission Viejo Lately?

During the last week, have you noticed a sewer-like smell in the Saddleback Valley? It turns out all of Mission Viejo has been stinky the last few days, and according to the OC Register, the reason has to do with... microscopic organisms. In this case, a species of algae, producing the very same gas that emanates from sewage: hydrogen sulfide. (Thus the "sewer gas" smell.)

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The foul-smelling algae has been surfacing in the Upper Oso Reservoir. The Upper Oso Reservoir is a man-made lake near the intersection of Los Alisos Blvd. and the 241 tollroad. (The reservoir was constructed by building a dam across Oso Creek, a creek which starts in the foothills of the Santa Ana Mountains and flows down toward Laguna Niguel. It's the same creek that feeds into Lake Mission Viejo).

You can read more here, at the OC Register's website.

Dozen Small Tsunami Waves Hit Orange County

Read the whole story here:

http://sciencedude.freedomblogging.com/2009/09/29/tsunami-watch-issued-for-hawai-but-not-california/59669/


Above: The mouth of the Santa Ana River, where the river lets out into the Pacific at Huntington Beach.

Scientist Mark Legg, of Huntington Beach, explain what just happened while standing in the Santa Ana River:



(all sources, OC Register)

Follow-Up on Tin Mining in Orange County

Chris Jepsen over at O.C. History Roundup (a great blog, by the way--highly recommend you subscribe to it!) as of April 22, 2009 has a very informative post on this very topic, replete with fascinating photographs. Read it here: http://ochistorical.blogspot.com/2009/04/santa-ana-tin-mining-co.html

Spring Wildflower Season Begins...

As a Midwesterner (but also someone still relatively new to admiring plants), last year I only began to notice spring wildflowers by around April or May.

That's when you'd expect wildflowers to begin appearing in Illinois, after all. And while it's true that spring wildflower season in southern California does not reach its height until approximately the same time, there are signs of spring as soon as the first rains arrive. This season, that meant as early as November.

For me it was an odd sight. Grasses began to green. The humidity was higher than usual: on Thanksgiving Day, we actually turned on our air conditioning. By Christmastime, leaving our apartment complex at 5am for the flight to Chicago, my wife and I heard the chorus of treefrogs from a pond in the distance.

By January, in the hills I saw the youngest sprouts of wild cucumber (more interestingly known as manroot), and in a few cases, even some small fruits already developing. I witnessed tiny ferns growing in Baker Canyon on the Irvine Ranch, and giant ferns profusely scattered along the oak- and sycamore-shaded slopes of Trabuco Creek.

Today, in February, I saw Fuchsia-flowered gooseberry (Ribes speciosum, below) well in bloom. Did they begin blooming as early as January? You'll have to ask either a more observant flower-enthusiast than I, or a hummingbird. For the hummingbirds, this plant is the seasonal equivalent of an early breakfast.



While the flowers strongly resemble those of fuchsia, careful examination allows you to see it's actually in the currant family--as in the berry, like blackcurrant. (Examination need not actually be too close, as the many spines on its stem will attest just fine to its non-fuchsia status.)

California buckwheat (Eriogonum fasciculatum), whose tender but pointed, linear leaves stay green even throughout the dry season, has also begun to flower. During the dry season buckwheat flowers are still present as a dried, remnant cluster of dark red (seen in background, below).


They're quite pretty even then, but it takes spring to remind you of just how pretty buckwheat is when in bloom. Hopefully the bees are noticing as well, and making that delicious buckwheat honey of which I'm craving as I write this.


Buckwheat flowers themselves are nearly as striking as the pattern in which they grow off the stalk. I lack the botanical terminology to name this growth pattern, but the picture linked to here is worth those words.

And lastly, in the understory of a grove of live oak trees, I encountered a flower that was new to me: "Milkmaids", or California cardamine (Cardamine californica, below). The criss-cross, or "X" shape of the four petals, should have been my immediate tip off that this flower is a type of Mustard, that enormous (~3,700 species) order of flowering plants. More specifically, the Cardamines are the genus otherwise known as Bittercress, whose taproot and prolificness make them an annoyance of commercial nursery growers. These are among our very earliest of bloomers, arriving as early as December if enough rain has been present (Introduction to the Plant Life of Southern California).

Tin Mining in Orange County?

Consider this the first of multiple future posts about mining in Orange County (a place which in the last 130 years has been a site of mining for gold, silver, lead, zinc, and tin, among other interesting materials).

Since I first learned about tin ore earlier this year, I've been fascinated by it. Called cassiterite, it has very unique-looking black crystals. DK has an incredible image, visible here.

Smelted and refined as pure tin (see image), tin is a wimpy metal that saw its most recent heyday in the last century when used in cans. (Times eventually gave way to aluminum and stainless steel.) In the 21st century, it seems that tin has been reduced to little more than a lead-free alternative for electrical solder and fishing weights.

But before fishing weights and tin cans, tin was once a mighty metal. The more potent use of tin, of course, is as an additive to copper in creating the alloy bronze. Despite the relative weakness of tin and copper by themselves, the alloy is surprisingly strong. The term "Bronze Age" underscores the fact that it was the unique hardness of bronze which saw metal itself graduate from use as mere decorative curiosity (e.g. gold & silver jewelry) to primary material for tools and weaponry. So in no small way, tin lifted mankind out of the Stone Age and in so doing, brought him that much closer to the Iron & Steel Age (which continues at present).

Here's a link to a tantalizing blurb about tin mining in Orange County.

I've heard it said that no tin was ever found in Orange County, but the caption here suggests that one "A. Gasparina" discovered some tin ore in 1877.

The Geologic Map of Orange County (Morton & Miller, 1981) identifies both the Trabuco Tin Mine, and another one called the Temescal Placer Mine.

So perhaps the verdict is still out... was some tin in fact successfully mined in Orange County?

I've sent this query to several local Orange County history and geology buffs, who have already responded in kind with what promises to be some useful information. Once I learn more, I will amend an update to this post.

UPDATE: Read Chris Jepsen's post of April 22, 2009, "The Santa Ana Tin Mining Co.", over at OC History Roundup.

My First Wild Tarantula Encounter

Ooh, scary, coming toward me. (Just kidding. I was going toward it. He was actually trying to get away from me!)

Male Desert Tarantula trying to get away from me.


Trip co-leader Mike demonstrates that the desert tarantula is surprisingly docile.



Some interesting facts I found:

Factoid #1: The desert tarantula seems to be North America's only tarantula genus (Aphonopelma). Several species are readily found in Texas, New Mexico, Arizona, and southern California.

Factoid #2: At dawn and dusk, the males go out in search of females. Once they mate (within their first three years of life), the males will die. Females, on the other hand, live for up to 20 years. NOT FAIR!

Factoid #3: During their final molt (shedding of their skin), males develop extremely long "pedipalps" (the spider equivalent of antennae). Then they go out in search of the ladies.

Orange Spring Amanita & Mushroom Season

Moisture in Southern California, is like Santa Claus--it comes just once a year--so I feel compelled to post about mushrooms once again (and possibly for the last time this year), before they become unfashionable.

(1) The earliest mushroom I found this season is pictured below, next to a standard-sized plastic spoon (used as a makeshift trowel). It popped up alongside several others of the same kind in January, in a patch of landscaped wood-shavings near an intersection that I drive by on my way to work every day. My hectic schedule, combined with the awkward location of the mushrooms, prevented me from getting to it before it had dried out, and thus made it virtually impossible for me to identify. As I wrote in my last post, mushroom identification can be hard enough as it is, even when spore prints are made.


(Here's a top view of the same mushroom pictured above):


Based on similarities in structure and habitat, I suspect that several other mushrooms I've seen during March and April were the same species. Here they are, in fresher form than the above:


Curiously, notice that the one in the background has been chomped on a bit. (If you read my last post, then you'll know why the culprit could not have been me.)

Since these mushrooms were fresh, I was able to make a spore print from them, which turned out to be the color of cocoa:


(2) This next mushroom is the first one I encountered that I feel somewhat confident in having identified. If I'm right, this is an Orange Spring Amanita, Amanita velosa. These mushrooms especially prefer the leaf litter found under live oak trees, which is exactly where I found them (Wilderness Glen Park, Mission Viejo):


Notice the elongated acorn of the live oak tree which was near this mushroom. Such strangely-shaped acorns are exotic to my Midwestern eyes! Also surrounding the mushroom are the dried, dead leaves of years past. Live oaks, although evergreen, nevertheless do drop old leaves--I imagine much as an evergreen pine still drops its needles.

The photo below clearly shows three features possessed by Orange Spring Amanitas: 1. the white spot on the cap (here somewhat soiled), 2. the ridges along the edge of the cap, and 3. a cup-shaped bulb around the base:


As willing as I am to shift around the subjects of a scene in the interest of making a photograph more glamorous (I confess that above I moved the acorn a few inches closer to the mushroom!), I swear the scene in this next photo was as is. It's a darkling beetle on an Orange Spring Amanita (Caspers Regional Park):


What a fun shot. Darkling beetles like to eat decaying vegetation. Perhaps he's attracted to the smell of the mushroom??

(3) Two mushrooms popped up from the soil around my potted lime tree here in Irvine in early April. No positive ID, but they left dark brown spores. (See below sketch and spore print.) I left one of the mushrooms to drop its spores in the soil, in the hopes that it will fruit again.


(4) Last week (mid-April) I encountered several small, whitish puffballs in the hills above Three Arch Bay (in Laguna Beach). They were by that point extremely dried up and had already released their spores, so identification would have been very hard. And alas, I did not have my camera with me!

(5) And, of course, there were the false morels (or maybe black morels), as featured in my last post.

I'll be very curious to see what, if any, other mushrooms I encounter in the weeks ahead, and when will mark the end of the season! The weather's been awfully dry of late...

Black Morels (probably)

It's time to play everyone's favorite game: "Turds? or Mushrooms?"

If you answered Turds!, that would be incorrect. These are mushrooms. "Mushrooms?! In southern California?!"... "But," you object, "I thought southern California was part of the Desert Southwest!"

Well, it is. But first of all, I don't even know if deserts are actually barren of mushrooms (let's check... Here: this guy from Tucson says there are a few).

And secondly, Orange County is on the coastal slope of southern California. We've even got the Santa Ana Mountains (Peninsular Range) to our east that helps keep in the moisture and humidity. I'm not saying it's a rainforest here--recall the wildfires?--but Orange County averages 13 inches per year [1]. That's 3 inches too high to be considered "desert". In fact, as fantastically varied as Orange County's habitats are--coastal sage scrub, riparian woodland, chaparral, montane coniferous woodland, tidepools, estuaries, urban, suburban, grassland savannah, etc.--it is one of our great local-geographical ironies that desert is the one habitat Orange County does not have. (For that, you have to step across the Orange/Riverside County line.).

So it's actually not out of the ordinary to find mushrooms growing in southern California, assuming you're looking during the moistest season of the year, which is now.

I have a special place in my heart for mushrooms. It's said that in ancient and medieval times, mushrooms were widely regarded as magical, the province of fairies and gnomes. I'm sympathetic to that. There is something almost magical about them. I'm not the first to be intrigued by their short-lived nature, the fact that they pop up literally overnight and are gone again in days without a visible trace. They are sometimes quite colorful, and sometimes odorous. Some of the very ones you encounter would spell instant death if eaten, while others are delicious, and yes, still others cause severe hallucinations. Paradoxically, evolutionary biologists (and mycologists--people who study fungi) tell us that mushrooms are probably more closely related to animals than to plants. And I feel like there are other reasons I'm really intrigued by mushrooms, but I'm finished soul-searching for now.


Mushrooms are extremely difficult to identify to species--more so than plants and animals. Not only do you have to learn the basics of mushroom anatomy (which consists of noting the gill attachment, cup shape, veil type, color, cap shape, etc.), but to be certain, you nearly always have to make a spore print. It's totally my kind of geeky fun, but even then, my attempts at identification usually fail, because I never have the passion to follow through with use of my microscope and identify the spore shape. (You just wait.) I have a sister, who's both a chef and someone interested in nature, and every few months we get to talking about it and she mentions that she's thinking of going mushroom-hunting. And given the number of innocuous-looking but deadly, or just plain poisonous-enough-to-make-you-really-sick mushrooms I always have to caution her against it.


All mushrooms are exciting to me, but morels especially so. For starters, they don't look like your typical, Beatrix Potter-style 'shroom. The inner Butthead in me wants to laugh at them. "Huh huh huh huh. Look Beavis, morels look like turds."

More seriously, morels are a delicacy, and are therefore one of the most sought after family of mushrooms in the world, after truffels. They can fetch as much as $30 per pound [2]. I've yet to eat one, but my adorable, rural-Missourian wife attests to their deliciousness, she says especially when they're battered in egg and breadcrumb. (But we ask, suspiciously, what isn't delicious when battered in egg and breadcrumb?).

Following my field guide to mushrooms, the club-shaped mushroom here is most likely a variety of Black Morel, which is edible... but I wouldn't eat it. There's too strong a possibility that this is a dark variant of a different species known commonly as the False Morel. And on that, I shall quote for you the relevant passage, from The Audubon Society Field Guide to North American Mushrooms: "Scientists have discovered that the Conifer False Morel develops a compound similar to the one used in the manufacture of rocket fuel. It causes acute illness and has been fatal in a few instances; it also produces tumors in laboratory animals."

You get the point.

California Poppy

Common name: California poppy
Scientific name: Eschscholzia californica
Range: southern Washington to northern Baja California, east to Nevada and Sonoran desert southwest
More information: The California poppy is a stunningly colorful and elegantly simple flower to behold. Here are five interesting facts about Eschscholzia californica (source: Wikipedia):

1. It is the state flower of California.

If you enter the state by road, you'll be keen to this immediately (it's on the welcome signs). It also graces the road signs for scenic routes, and lots of "Greetings from California!" postcards. Apparently, it was adopted as state flower around the turn of the last century--by a landslide vote over the Mariposa lily and the Matilija poppy.

2. It was named for Johann Friedrich von Eschscholtz, one of many 19th century naturalists who helped to explore and catalogue many taxonomically unchartered islands and territories of the "Far Side of the World"--particularly much Californian flora and fauna. He was also, in my opinion, a handsome fellow.
Eschscholtz, a Baltic-German, was professor of anatomy and director of zoological cabinet at the University of Tartu (which is located in present-day Estonia, then Imperial Russia). From 1815-1818 he was ship's physician and naturalist on the Russian circumnavigational expeditionary ship Rurik, a voyage which enabled him to collect along the rim of the Bering Sea, the Pacific Islands, California, and South America. (Says Wikipedia, "The other naturalist was the botanist Adelbert von Chamisso who took over Eschscholtz’ specimens excepting insects on completion of the voyage. The two were close friends and Chamisso named the California poppy Eschscholtzia californica in his honor.") On a later voyage, Eschscholtz returned to California where he collected over 100 unique species of beetles near Fort Ross, the southernmost Russian fort. (You know that the Creator loves beetles, right?)

3. In places where it has been introduced, it seems to be even more successful than in its native range.

According to Wikipedia: "Because of its beauty and ease of growing, the California poppy was introduced into several regions with similar Mediterranean climates. It is commercially sold and widely naturalized in Australia, and was introduced to South Africa, Chile, and Argentina....

"Introduced populations have been noted to be larger and more reproductively successful than native ones (Elton, 1958), and there has been much speculation as to why. Increase in resource availability, decreased competition, and release from enemy pressure have all been proposed as explanations.

"One hypothesis is that the resources devoted in the native range to a defense strategy, can in the absence of enemies be devoted to increased growth and reproduction (the EICA hypothesis, Blossey & Nötzold, 1995). However, this is not the case with introduced populations of E. californica in Chile: the Chilean populations were actually more resistant to Californian caterpillars than the native populations (Leger and Forister, 2005)."

4. It is reported that at the peak of blooming season, orange petals seem to cover all 1,745 acres of the Antelope Valley California Poppy Reserve.

Antelope Valley is located in northern Los Angeles County. (This is definitely going on my list of places to visit!)

5. As with other members of the Poppy family, it contains narcotic alkaloids, which have sedative and analgesic properties.

According to reports, however, these properties are relatively mild in the California poppy. Hmm... does that mean Elaine should have eaten California poppy seed muffins, instead of Opium ones?

Giant Green Anemone

Scientific name: Anthopleura xanthogrammica

Common name: Giant Green Anemone

Range: Alaska to Panama.

More information: The name "anemone" refers to a type of flower; "sea anemone" is a metaphor, as these are animals of the Phylum Cnidaria. Cnidarians consist of the jellyfish, corals, and sea anemones. The name is Greek for "nettle"--another plant metaphor referring to the fact that jellyfish, sea anemones, and coral all possess tentalces with the ability to sting.

(Another prominently shared characteristic that unites members of this group is their similar larval development--many jellyfish larvae resemble sea anemones).

Ever since my first visit to a California tidepool last year, I have been fascinated with the Giant Green Anemone, and have sought in vain for a detailed and trustworthy online account of their life history. Supposedly, they live a remarkably long time, and are capable of detaching themselves from their substrate and "swimming" in search of more profitable territory. (Then reattaching themselves; they are otherwise firmly attached to the rock at their cylindrical base.)

I have learned through experience that the Giant Green Anemone's sting is incapable of penetrating human flesh. The worst I have felt is a slight "sticky" tingling. They will close their tentacles upon any thing that might drop into their "oral disk" (the central 'bulls eye'-like structure, see above), presumably this is how they capture their food. I note that crabs seem to possess immunity to the anemone's stinging tentacles. Sea urchins and mussels, do not fare so well. This I know from the touch tanks at Aquarium of the Pacific. See disclaimer, below.*

Pictured above is one individual, about six inches in diameter, in a shallow tidal crevasse located on the Dana Point headland. In the background are other individuals.

*Please note that, in order to promote biological ignorance, superstition, and general contempt for a naturalist's joyful curiosity, the State of California forbids the touching or picking up of rocks, shells, or any living organism on California's coasts, regardless of how abundant that organism is, or whether your action falls well outside the range of what could be considered harmful to the organism. Yes, this is the People's Republic of California. But your own state probably has similar draconian measures in place.

Check out the wildlife laws in Illinois, for example:

"It is also against the law for anyone to live trap and relocate any wild animal without a nuisance trapping permit from the state of Illinois - even on their own property. Fines starting at $500.00 per animal and time in jail can be given to those who decide to break the wildlife laws."

http://ipl.unm.edu/cwl/statbook/illino.html

ADDENDUM: Here's a reminder that clicking on any photo will reveal a higher resolution. That's especially recommended for this picture.

Striped Shore Crab

Scientific name: Pachygrapsus crassipes
Common name: Striped Shore Crab
Range: Oregon to Baja California
More information: P. crassipes has a very close cousin, P. transversus (the Mottled Shore Crab), who occupies the Atlantic coast--from North Carolina south to Uruguay.

The above photo was taken near low tide at a Laguna Beach tidepool. I observed, several days later, that nearly all of the crabs encountered at a tidepool at high tide in nearby Corona del Mar were Striped Shore Crabs.

To find out more, including what these crabs eat, see this entry at VR Tidepool (a really old website).

Harlequin Bug

Scientific name: Murgantia histrionica
Common name: Harlequin Bug; Calico back; Calico Bug; Fire Bug
Range: throughout U.S. as well as Canada adjacent to New England; especially southern U.S.
More information: The above photo is of a later nymph. He is feeding on bladderpod in Crystal Cove State Park, near Laguna Beach, June 2006.

See Harlequin bug entry at Natural History of Orange County; BugGuide.net entry

UPDATE, 7/7/07: I came across a whole bunch of these bugs while walking on a trail near my apartment (Salt Creek Park) in early June, again feeding on a bladderpod plant. They were definitely in a different stage of development, as their markings were of a noticeably different pattern.

Jacaranda

Jacaranda tree growing by La Brea Tar Pits.

Jacaranda leaves, flower, and fruit, up close.

Jacaranda tree growing by my apartment.

Scientific name: Jacaranda mimosifolia
Common name: Jacaranda; Green Ebony; Brazilian Rose Wood; Blue Jacaranda, Black Poui

Range: native to Argentina and Bolivia

More information:

Jacaranda entry at California Gardens.com

"Blue Jacaranda" at Wikipedia

"Jacaranda" (genus) at Wikipedia

Weeping Bottlebrush

Scientific name: Callistemon viminalis
Common name: Weeping Bottlebrush
Range: pending
More information: pending

Here in Orange County and in the Los Angeles area, I've seen many members of the myrtle family in the form of medium-sized eucalyptus trees as well as large, woody bushes.

[snip]

So it's worth noting that this is definitely not the only species of myrtle used in landscaping here in Orange County. (More on the other species, later...)

Bush Monkeyflower

Scientific name: Mimulus aurantiacus
Common name: Bush monkeyflower, Sticky monkeyflower
Range: southwestern Oregon through most of California (according to Wikipedia entry)
More information: Calflora.net entry, Bush monkeyflower; Wikipedia entry, "Mimulus aurantiacus"

It is sometimes called "Sticky monkeyflower", presumably because the leaves are sticky to the touch. (I will have to try this.)

According to Introduction to the Plant Life of Southern California (Rundel and Gustafson), the name "monkeyflower" refers to the two-lipped flowers which resemble small faces (from the front).

Also, even within southern California, the flowers vary quite noticeably in shape and color--a curious fact worth further exploration. (Rundel and Gustafson mention that this "may reflect an evolving change from bee to hummingbird pollination").

The stigma (female part) of the monkeyflower is sensitive to touch, like a few other plants (e.g. Mimosa). It closes shut a few seconds after being touched. (Again, I will have to try this!)

This website says that the young leaves and stems can be eaten, but are quite bitter, and that also it was used as a poultice by Indians.

According to the Wikipedia entry, monkeyflower "grows in many climates and will thrive in many types of soil, wet, dry, sandy, or rocky. It even grows in serpentine, a soil that most plants have difficulty thriving in because of its unique mineral composition."

The above photo was taken Sunday on the rim of Badlands Park (elev. about 1000 ft.), at the southernmost edge of Aliso & Woods Canyon, overlooking the Pacific Ocean in Monarch Beach.

California Sea Lion

Scientific name: Zalophus californianus

Common name: California Sea Lion

Range: coastal northern Pacific Ocean
More information: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/California_sea_lion

The major distinction between sea lions and seals is that sea lions are "eared seals". (Seals are earless.) It's worth looking here for a comparative look at the skeletons of the seal and sea lions--this also gives you a sense of how similar the Pinnipeds (seals & sea lions) are to dogs, cats, and bears (mammals of the Order Carnivora, which includes dogs, bears, cats, weasels and their close relatives).

Within the Order Carnivora, evolutionary biologists have reason to believe Pinnipeds are Caniformes, or descendants of the same ancestor of dogs and bears. (Carnivorans are either Caniforms, or Feliforms). You can find a little bit about this at the entry for "Pinniped" on Wikipedia.

The above photos were taken Sunday while on a marine mammal boat cruise out of Dana Point. These sea lions are perched on "Seal Rock", which is just off the coast of the city of San Clemente in south Orange County (background). The dominant male sea lion stands out. Also, a cormorant is hanging out, on the far left. (Possibly a juvenile Double-crested cormorant?)

Sea Lavender

Scientific name: Limonium californicum
Common names: Sea-lavender, Sea Lavender, Marsh Rosemary, California Statice
Range: Oregon to Baja California; common near coasts & other saline environments
More information: More photos at Common Plants of Upper Newport Bay; "Sea-lavender" entry at Wikipedia

Be sure to touch these flowers if you ever encounter them--the dried feeling of them is very distinctive. Sea-lavender is in the Leadwort Family of plants (so it's not a type of lavender or rosemary, despite its common names). There are only 3 species of Sea-lavender found in North America (compared with 120 worldwide, with most of those found in the Mediterranean and central Asia--see the Wikipedia entry).

Giant Keyhole Limpet

Scientific name: Megathura crenulata

Common name: Giant Keyhole Limpet

Range: Central California to Baja California.

More information: Entry from Molluscs [sic] of Orange County; possibly worth learning more about: immunological studies of Giant Keyhole Limpets; hemocyanin

Believe it or not, a limpet is a primitive type of gastropod (snail), and that's what this is. He obviously doesn't fit within his shell, though. Now, this is the only Giant Keyhole Limpet I've yet encountered, but, from all the photos of other specimens I've seen, this guy is unique in having an extremely small shell given his body size. The others are big, but the shell doesn't seem nearly as useless on them.

According to my Audubon field guide, the Giant Keyhole Limpet "feeds on algae and colonial tunicates. Native Americans used the conveniently perforated shell on wampum belts."

UPDATE, 7/7/07: I observed my second Giant Keyhole Limpet at a tidepool in Laguna Beach early last month. Its coloration was different from the above, and I got to see its underside and really get a sense of its anatomy. I will post photographs in a follow-up entry.

Pacific Tree Frog

Scientific name: Hyla regilla

Common name: Pacific Tree Frog

Range: British Columbia south to Baja California, west into Idaho & Nevada.

More information: Online Field Guide to Reptiles & Amphibians of Coastal Southern California.

Also, "The Biogeography of Pacific Tree Frog" looks interesting.

The above photographs of a young Pacific Tree Frog were taken by me at Crystal Cove State Park in June of 2006.

Bush Poppy

Scientific name: Dendromecon rigida

Common name: Bush poppy

Range: California and Baja California, in Pacific Coast Ranges and Sierra Nevada foothills.

More information: Wikipedia entry here. Calflora.net article & photos here.

I encountered Bush poppies in the Santa Ana Mountains while visiting last June--and that's the setting of this photo. These were growing on a southward-facing side of a slope, at an elevation of (I think) about 2000 ft.

Be prepared to see more photos of poppies in the next few weeks--I'd be remiss if I didn't showcase our state flower (California poppy), which I've lately seen blooming along Laguna Canyon Road.