Angraecum sororium

Two years after bringing home Angraecum sororium from a plant sale in Westminster, CA, it's opened the first of its four buds. This species in native to Madagascar and is wonderfully night-fragrant like most Angraecoids. Along with succulents, I've been growing orchids for over twenty years now. I’ve learned enough along the way for it to be a rewarding hobby.

You can’t go wrong with reading books written by experts in their respective fields if you want to get better at something. There’s no one size fits all approach to orchid culture even within a genus.

I’m breaking my general rule of ruthlessly editing and instead showing this flower in another light. Both photographs are pleasing to me for different reasons. This is the one I uploaded to Pixels.com. Please shoot me a message if you’re interested in a print of the other one.

Redux

We may move and become part of another place, but none of us can change where we're from. In my case, that's Lake Michigan's eastern shore of sugar sand beaches and dunes. I doubt I'll ever return to my salmon stream to stay. I would be unhappy leaving San Diego's leopard sharks, mountains and desert to move back. But I do still enjoy visiting the lake and friends who are excited to see me. I stay on top of conservation issues related to the Great Lakes and pick up trash on the beaches and in parks while I'm there. I swam my laps along the buoys in Ludington. It was somewhat surreal not having to do the stingray shuffle to get out there like I do at home. My subconscious has merged pods of pilot whales I've seen just south of the U.S./Mexico border and my hometown lighthouse. I’ve even seen killer whales pass it while I slept.

A lone gull off of Sleeping Bear Dunes National Lakeshore. I’ve been asked here in California if one can see across Lake Michigan. Yes and no. I’ve certainly seen Chicago’s skyline from Grand Mere State Park near where I grew up, but that’s a short distance away. The lake is about 118 miles (190 km) across at its widest point.

Sandhill cranes before they descended to Arcadia Marsh Nature Preserve. A relative by marriage lamented to us during our visit that they tear up lawns. I prefer wildlife to manicured sod and can hear the Anna’s hummingbirds squeaking in the California fuchsia planted where grass used to be as I type here.

We spotted this doe at dusk in Ludington State Park. Her fawn was nearby and we felt bad putting them on guard even as we quietly padded through.

My snake senses are finely tuned and I knew roughly what I’d heard before I looked over my shoulder and saw this beautiful eastern hognose going about its business in Ludington State Park.

This ruby-throated hummingbird was working Impatiens capensis in Arcadia Dunes Marsh Preserve, as were quite a few others. It didn’t surprise me to see them chasing much larger birds—the hummingbirds pretty much rule the yard here. I used to ride my bike over to the Kennedy Forest portion of Forest Park in St. Louis to watch the hummingbirds visiting these plants. I’d be growing an enormous bank of them if I lived in the region to attract and nourish these birds. Clean feeders are a great addition to a wildlife-friendly garden, but helpful (often native) plants and insects provide better nutrition.

The Lost Lake Trail at Ludington State Park is sublime.

I was lucky to see orange-fringed orchids (Platanthera ciliaris) growing in a small, west Michigan preserve from the vantage point of a boardwalk. This species is endangered in Michigan and threatened in other locations as well. Minimal land has been spared for them to thrive in because wealth extraction of land and our fellow humans seems to make more sense to a lot of people. Argentine ants and plagues may have the last laugh.

Sphagnum moss in the bog supporting the orchids and wild blueberries.

Ghost plants (Monotropa uniflora) can be missed easily if the light isn’t hitting them just right.

A monarch butterfly caterpillar (Danaus plexippus) feeds on a common milkweed (Asclepias syriaca). This plant species throws quite the pollinator party and is wonderfully fragrant.

Here’s an adult monarch working common boneset (Eupatorium perfoliatum) at Arcadia Marsh Nature Preserve.

This American red squirrel and I watched each other for awhile at Ludington State Park.

American white waterlily (Nymphaea odorata) at Ludington State Park.

Flow.

A side of sauce. This shot could have been taken anywhere. My exhibition as a senior in art school studying photography with Pulitzer Prize-winning photographer Taro Yamasaki was a series of aesthetically pleasing prints I shot of plastic pollution in the Ann Arbor River.  It bothered me then and more so now. The situation has worsened as our convenience culture continues its conquest.

This white sage is thriving in my alma mater's botanical garden and in various spots in the yard. I love Salvia apiana and so do my animal buddies. The arid house at Matthaei struck a chord with me the first time I saw it. It was my first exposure to the Agaves, Aloes and Haworthias I grow too many of.

Arcadia Dunes is protected, owned and managed by the Grand Traverse Regional Land Conservancy.

Lightning overhead and raindrops on my forehead.

Comic-Con at Home 2021

I’m participating in an online version of the spectacle that is San Diego Comic-Con, my 8th year overall. Please check out all of the makers’ works and consider supporting a living artist if you see something that grabs you: Comic-Con@Home Art Show 2021

Offering

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Coyote shares his thoughts on being surveilled

…and probably on the bobcats as well.

Seeing the wildlife around here makes my day.

This bunny has good reason to hide in the Shaw’s agave and Cleveland sage.

Juvenile cooper’s hawks raised in the canyon finger have been crying to be fed for weeks now. There’s a lot of circle of life behavior to observe in the yard and adjacent preserves.

Valley Carpenter Bee working a white sage.

Anise swallowtail butterfly pausing on golden cereus.

This Texas red yucca is currently being relished by a Costa’s hummingbird, a bird species I most often see in the desert. It’s no ocotillo or chuparosa, but he thinks it’ll do in a pinch.

Happy Solstice!

It’s quite clearly the summer one here in San Diego. The Sun plays a big part in making life on Earth possible, so I’m a longtime fan.

Robin Street-Morris. Canyon Sunrise. Transparent watercolor and soft pastel on 300lb cold press paper. 13” x 19” (33 x 48cm).

Our local star brings us flowers.

Avonia quinaria subspecies alstonii with Salvia ‘Royal Bumble’ looking over its shoulder. Outdoors, I mostly grow plants native to our area, but I’m a citizen of the world when it comes to cultivating species from elsewhere that don’t exhibit weedy growth habits that push the locals out.

Whale tails are back...

This ethereal watercolor and soft pastel painting was my response to seeing blue whales a week ago. Blue whale flukes (tails) are more grayish in real life. Said species was given that common name because their bodies glow blue when they're just below the surface.

Owning this painting or a print of it while wearing a thong peeking out of the top of your low-rise jeans while driving a car with the cool whale plates that benefit the California Coastal Commission would be totally meta. Increase the Droste-ish Effect by buying the art and getting a design of it tattooed on your lower back. ;-)

Robin Street-Morris. Phantasm (White Whale). Transparent watercolor and soft pastel on 300lb hot press paper. 13” x 21” (33 x 53cm).

California sea lions in San Diego

Tourists and locals alike understandably flock to La Jolla to see the California sea lions and harbor seals, particularly when it's their pupping seasons. I need to have my increasingly mislaid "I can cope with the public" hat on in order to brave the crowds. It's typically the lure of getting in La Jolla Cove that does it. Both pinniped species are curious and will often approach me underwater on their own terms which never gets old. I couldn't effectually chase them in their oceanic realm if I wanted to and neither could Michael Phelps. We humans are comparatively out of our element in the water no matter how much we love being in it. On land, I keep my distance and photograph them with a 100-400mm telephoto lens. I've seen a lot of folks get way too close over the years putting both themselves and the wildlife at risk, but I've never been present when animals were being beaten or their newborns picked up. Those photos and stories fill me with rage, sadness and disbelief that anyone could do this. Bad actors in our parks and preserves are why we need to pony up cash to pay more rangers who can dish out actual consequences as needed. If that's not a good use of taxpayer dollars I don't know what is, not to mention the creation of hard yet surely rewarding jobs. I'm in favor of closing Point La Jolla during sea lion pupping season for the same reason the Children's Pool is closed for the harbor seals when they're giving birth and nursing. I want to believe most people who visit mean these animals well, but there are enough assholes out there that these animals need better protection. Please join me in signing the Sierra Club's San Diego Chapter's petition to Mayor Gloria and San Diego City Council by clicking or tapping HERE.

Please back up. A little more…a little more… Perfect!

(Hey, I never said I’m a nice person.)

Look closely and you’ll see one blending in with the rocks. They’re pretty inaccessible in this spot. The youngest pup is almost vertical.

I could easily spend all day watching them surf. Waves and weather that keep me and my snorkel dry are seemingly nothing to them.

The sea lions and harbor seals can swim so fast that sometimes I don’t see them until they’re in my face! I’d rather not have that encounter with one of the larger juvenile white sharks aggregating off of our coast, though I REALLY want to see one from a safe distance…as in having been out to the Farallon Islands three times levels of interest with no luck yet. And now I want to reread The Devil’s Teeth by Susan Casey.

Resting up for the hunt. They can appear lazy, but are very active at night in search of fishes. Yup, it’s “fishes” because we’re talking about a diverse diet that includes many species of fish as well as squid and octopus.

On second thought, why hunt when you can just train the fishing crowd to do it for you like this charismatic bull did?! Everyone involved was clearly having a great time, but this is one reason why NOAA doesn’t want us to feed them:

“Marine mammals change their natural behaviors, including feeding and migration activities, and show decreased willingness to forage for food on their own. They may also begin to take bait/catch from fishing gear. These changed behaviors may be passed on to their young and other members of their social groups, increasing their risk of injury from boats, entanglement in fishing gear, and intentional harm by people frustrated with the behavioral changes.”

Chilling on a bait dock at dusk.

This guy benefited from SeaWorld’s rescue, rehab and release program. They’re who I call when I find a distressed pinniped.

California sea lions thermoregulating off of San Diego.

Hanging out with a juvenile California brown pelican. La Jolla is a great spot to watch them, cormorants and gulls as well.

“Thanks for helping me out!”

"Up north"

We finally had a week to drive to Sequoia, Kings and Yosemite National Parks. Our first stop was a little agricultural town named Reedley that reminded me of pretty much any small community in the Midwest. We'd all be well served reminding ourselves that we have more in common than not regardless of what state or country we live in. TV and movie portrayals of "coastal elites" in the U.S. are representative of a miniscule minority. And even they can’t pay other people to take their shits for them.

The purpose of our stay in Reedley was meeting up for a home-cooked dinner with friends and patrons who found my work on eBay when we lived in in Detroit. Not everyone who scored a promotional steal went on to buy original art at a price that reflects my efforts, but this couple commissioned two paintings inspired by sequoias and their support was much appreciated. Even back in the day I didn't take on projects I wasn't excited enough about to do well. There are lots of other good artists out there who specialize in things I don't. But trees...trees I already knew I wanted to see myself someday I could approach enthusiastically. I paint differently these days and am largely inspired by nature I’ve seen in person. That said, I'm no longer embarrassed by what I made at the time, an attitude I've had to cultivate a bit. One may as well own one's past while continuing to grow, particularly when people were financially supportive and still own the work.

Aside from seeing the big trees, my dream that I didn't really expect to come true was finding Cypripedium montanum, a rare in California lady's slipper orchid species. I couldn't believe my eyes when we turned a bend and saw this. We went back a second day to further appreciate it. It was buggy, hot and worth it. I loaded up with certain OTC drugs so I could deal with it because heat shreds my system. As a Torrey pine, I would like it to be 65°F with a heavy fog until around noon.

No trip to Yosemite National Park is complete without embarrassing oneself with a stab at black and white photography. Self-deprecating “joke” aside, I paid at least some dues developing piles of of T-Max 100 and printing on Ilford paper while in school at the University of Michigan. Film is beautiful at its best, but this method results in fewer caustic chemicals going down the drain and that’s what keeps the Canon Mark III around my neck to the point of bad posture and the Leica M6 in the closet.

Leichtlin's mariposa lily (Calochortus leichtlinii). I did the plant dance when I found it because I adore genus Calochortus, so much so that I had my book about them in tow so I could ID any I found without relying on my connection to what passes for civilization.

Sequoia skin. One of the few really big ones I was able to touch, not that I’m opposed to the barriers for obvious reasons.

This was a reminder to me that there’s nothing new about the proclivity of some to deny reality which doesn’t make the repercussions of their anti-intellectualism any less harmful.

Delays getting in and out of Yosemite to accommodate trucks moving lumber were frequent and long.

Just chilling watching frogs and birds with an IPA in paw. It looks peaceful, no? It wasn’t. Our cul-de-sac in San Diego is comparatively quiet as longs as the neighbors’ mow and blows aren’t around. Overheard while there from a biker dude to his lady: “I didn’t travel 800 miles from Arizona to listen to someone else’s videos.” Preach…

Wawona Tunnel. Nuclear arms races are a thing of the past now, right? …

Snow plant (Sarcodes sanguinea) is a beautiful saprophyte.

It’s not like I wasn’t going to take a photo or two of Half Dome. And, yes, there should be plants in the foreground IMO.

The big trees are undeniably wonderful, but this manzanita mini tunnel in Kings Canyon National Park was the plant hug I needed away from home.

This is the bear who totaled our Jeep rental and stole our homemade GORP bars.

Lunar eclipse

It's been pretty cloudy around here as of late, so I didn't have high hopes I'd get to see the lunar eclipse. I checked the weather for the mountains and it wasn't much better. Conditions weren't looking promising around 2AM, 3AM etc., but there was a window just when I needed one. Then the fog rolled back across the spectacle just like it did when C/2020 F3 (NEOWISE) was in town. There was an owl on a nearby roof and I kind of didn't believe my eyes due to the wishful thinking factor.

Lunar Eclipse over San Diego

I had the company of a pair of great horned owls for a lunar eclipse in Tucson a few years ago as well as a magnificent Joshua tree growing in cultivation. If only it were as dark in our neighborhood as it is near Saguaro National Park East. Much to my delight, the nearby mountain community of Julian just became the second IDA International Dark Sky Community in California after Borrego Springs. Light pollution does a lot more than kill my stargazing buzz.

Yucca Moon (Lunar Eclipse with Joshua Tree)

Waiting for rain

This is a piece I'd wanted to make since visiting San Miguel Island, part of Channel Island National Park. The dark creatures you see are dormant giant coreopsis that spring to life in late winter after some rain and produce bright yellow blossoms. I encountered a spring on my way up to this spot that is surely visited by San Miguel island foxes. It's a dream of mine to camp nearby and linger so I can see this subspecies of Urocyon littoralis, the last I'll be able to "catch" not having Navy clearance.

It's still funny to me in a not at all ha ha sort of way that some think southern California doesn't have seasons. It most definitely does. I'm always thinking about what's coming in and going out of bloom in the parks away from our airports and patches of green dominated by grass and palms. The "no seasons” mentality is a challenge because many who've moved here from elsewhere are sometimes quick to think that a native plant that looks tired during the summer is dead. Nope, they're just dormant in many cases. Would a Midwesterner chop down a maple in the winter just because it doesn't have green leaves? For the most part, no.

Waiting for Rain. Transparent watercolor and powdered soft pastel on 300lb hot press paper. 14" x 19" (36 x 48cm).

Walking while (overly) aware

I wonder how many people have passed this live oak in Los Peñasquitos Canyon Preserve over the years without pulling knives on it and inviting pathogens for a picnic? Weak appeals to tradition could be made to justify new arborglyphs, none of which hold much water when we’re talking about trees in nature preserves; what these clowns did is no Chumash “scorpion tree.”

***

There’re still flowers to see in San Diego other than invasive mustard and ice plants despite our minimal rainfall over the winter. I enjoy the hunt.

brownspined pricklypear (Cylindropuntia californica var. parkeri), Los Peñasquitos Canyon Preserve

red-shouldered hawk (Buteo lineatus), Los Peñasquitos Canyon Preserve

lanceleaf liveforever (Dudleya lanceolata), Los Peñasquitos Canyon Preserve

coyote (Canis latrans), Los Peñasquitos Canyon Preserve

climbing milkweed (Funastrum cynanchoides var. hartwegii), Torrey Pines State Natural Reserve

San Diego barrel cactus (Ferocactus viridescens var. viridescens) with pink sand verbena (Abronia umbellata), Torrey Pines State Natural Reserve

sacred datura (Datura wrightii), Torrey Pines State Beach

San Diego goldenstar (Bloomeria clevelandii), Louis Stelzer County Park

delicate clarkia (Clarkia delicata), Louis Stelzer County Park

San Bernardino larkspur (Delphinium parryi), Louis Stelzer County Park

A cherrypicked view from Kumeyaay Promontory at Louis Stelzer County Park sans enormous powerlines.

This is on the way to our trash and recycling bins. I suppose it's my version of a container garden. It started a couple of years ago with some Calorchortus weedii var. intermedius bulbs from Telos Rare Bulbs. Wildlife kept eating the emerging leaves, so I chucked in some Opuntia prolifera cladodes that had fallen from the one I planted at the end of the driveway. The Eschscholzia californica is a volunteer from elsewhere in the yard. Maybe next spring will finally be the year for that C. weedii.

This is probably not my last post about cacti...

There don’t seem to be gloves thick enough for handling some of them. That’s why I frequently wear none to maximize my dexterity and instead use my BBQ tongs when I’m repotting them or moving them in the garden. They still nail me sometimes and I’m a little scared of my coastal cholla because we’ve had some disagreements. The funniest is certainly the time I flipped a fallen piece of it into my face with my hori-hori and it stuck to my chin. That’s probably the only selfie I should ever have bothered taking and yet I was too preoccupied with getting the cactus off of my face to think to.

San Diego barrel cactus is much tamer comparatively speaking and I adore this species. I’ve got buds on mine and many in the preserves are in flower. Toward sundown one can watch solitary cactus bees find blossoms to curl up in. This one may or may not have moved on after I saw it faceplant late in the day. Only one is visible in the shot below, but this flower had many Argentine ants swarming it and others nearby. Said invasive species makes life hard for the native pollinators and the cacti as well. These ants think nothing of attacking other small living things and I’ve wondered how often these bees get a restful night's sleep when the former are present (someone who studies them for a living surely knows).

San Diego barrel cactus (Ferocactus viridescens), Diadasia sp. and Argentine ant (Linepithema humile) in Los Peñasquitos Canyon Preserve

My golden cereus began blooming for the first time and it’s a hit with the native bees in particular. A friend of mine who was in school at the Rancho Santa Ana Botanic Garden (now the California Botanic Garden) brought it down the 15 from their nursery for me as a single stemmed plant. It’s grown its heart out since being planted and is now quite large with many branches.

Bergerocactus emoryi and Diadasia sp.

Here’re a couple of other recent beauties for the fun of it. The crimson one was purchased as Trichocereus ‘Fuente de Sangre’. Taxonomists have since said, “Um, actually, Trichocereus is really Echinopsis.” It’s chilling near some eastern Mojave buckwheat (Eriogonum fasciculatum var. foliolosum) and Aloe aculeata. Aloe peglerae and Aloe dorotheae are nearby with the latter being almost as bright as this flower. Wildflowers bloom around their skirts in season.

Echinopis ‘Fuente de Sangre’

There’s nothing wrong with spritzing one’s flowers for a photo op, but nature did it for me that morning. I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s the last time we see rain other than fog here until fall.

Echinocereus chloranthus

Parodia uebelmannianus f. flaviflorus

Echinopsis ‘Edwardian Lady’

And here’s one from the garden for those who can’t be brought over to the spiny side unless roses are involved. As part of our ongoing hillside project, I added a San Diego mountain lilac (Ceanothus cyaneus) in a one gallon pot last fall. If it survives its first hot summer (and the Argentine ants don’t farm mealybugs and scale around its roots) it should do well from there desiring no supplemental water. That’s a big “if,” but I planted it with a black sage (Salvia mellifera) and placed some large rocks around it in an attempt to keep its roots cool.

Egression

This is my latest mixed media painting that I'm pleased enough with to share here. I've noted that it's in my best interest to keep my inspirations to myself for relatability’s sake. That way viewers and potential patrons can see whatever places in my landscapes they wish. But… I have no business sense and I like to prattle on about my favorite places, so I will add that I made this piece after returning from Santa Cruz Island, part of Channel Islands National Park.

Robin Street-Morris. Egression. Transparent watercolor and powdered soft pastel on 300lb hot press paper. 14" x 19" (36 x 48cm).

Please click or tap on the image of the painting if you’d like to purchase a print.

Every day is Earth Day

It hurts to watch organisms we love dearly die, particularly when it wasn't their time to go. And it’s difficult to be in the company of people who don't accept that anthropogenic climate change is the real deal.

Mule deer family in the yard

Hi there.

The Stare (Owl Moon VI)

Halloween is a summer away, but any time of year is a good time for me to celebrate two of my favorite things: owls and the Moon. This is a long running series that I return to when I feel like it. I recently took note of the boxes of Prismacolor pencils in my studio closet that hadn’t been touched in years and thought why not? There are less used colors in there from high school (cringe).

While I obviously took a lot of artistic liberty with it, this mixed media piece was inspired by an actual owl encounter in Tecolote Canyon. If you live in San Diego, you may know that this lovely park is on the other side of the 5 from Mission Bay and Sea World. I plan on paying a pair there a visit today and seeing if I can’t find an owlet or two. They were definitely nesting when this male eyed me sternly.

Robin Street-Morris. The Stare (Owl Moon VI). Transparent watercolor, colored pencil and soft pastel on 300lb cold press paper. 13” x 13” (33 x 33cm).

Please click or tap on the image of the art if you’d like to own a print.

California Native Plant Week

Homeowners nearby got California Native Plant Week started a little early by having a magnificent laurel sumac chopped down. I'd have been thrilled had it come with our house purchase instead of the acacias and ecosystem-altering saltcedar that's since been replaced with a bush rue. I'm hoping our immediate neighbors don't feel pressured to do the same with their lemonade berry; it's trimmed up into an open shape the fire department feels is acceptable for creating a defensible space and isn't going to be responsible for our homes burning down if disaster hits this canyon. Palm fronds grazing our homes’ roofs and embers landing in leaf-filled gutters are another story. Those things are easily addressed without leveling more habitat and making our views hideous, though the powers that be already accomplished the latter at least somewhat by festooning the canyon finger with colored tape last fall urging us to do the former.

I dried my eyes, blew my nose and headed down to Los Peñasquitos Canyon Preserve to escape the sounds of the chainsaws that were giving me chills and to remind myself of what made me want to live in this area in the first place.

Peñasquitos Creek riparian zone

Mountain lion snacks doing some pruning

It and other discarded masks left with me along with the usual wrappers and plastic bottles.

Parish's nightshade (Solanum parishii)

Coast prickly pear (Opuntia littoralis)

Sycamore and willow holding paws

I learned that our San Diego chapter of the California Native Plant Society is to have a new mascot based on Dudleya pulverulenta. I could have painted one at its plumpest, but liked the contrast of the curled leaves and lush center of this one. It shows how well adapted they are to surviving our dry season while remaining beautiful. The inspiration for this piece is growing near a narrow path that dips low next to a bridge that’s part of a multiuse trail in Los Peñasquitos Canyon Preserve. One day, I was standing in said spot photographing it and a guy on a mountain bike shouted down to me asking if I was going to move any time soon. He wanted to take the more challenging way down rather than riding across the bridge. I told him pleasantly that I wasn’t finished and that the path I was on is for pedestrians and equestrians. He retorted that he didn’t see any horses. I suggested he ride across the bridge which he proceeded to do while calling me a few choice words women tend to not appreciate. I’ve learned that trail usage signs do little to stop cyclists out there and that if I stand my ground on the pedestrian/equestrian trails they ride around me into the plants, so I’ve given up on that approach.

Chalk Dudleya (Dudleya pulverulenta). Transparent watercolor and soft pastel on 140lb hot press paper. 13” x 18” (33 x 46cm).

(Please click or tap on the image above if you’re interested in purchasing a fine art print. )

Wherever we rest our heads the vast majority of nights is our home. Unless we’re camping (or homeless), we leave the preserves and parks and return to our apartments, condos and houses at night. The plants and animals in them have nowhere else to go, thus it’s my opinion that we owe them the right of way when we’re in their home.

California poppies (Eschscholzia californica) and white sages (Salvia apiana) are putting on a show in our yard as are many other sages and wildflowers.

Island fox "hunt"

What I'm most hoping for when I visit Channel Islands National Park is to see these pint-sized apex predators thriving in their home and ignoring us.  The ranger who met us at the pier for orientation mentioned that some of the foxes are so tame they'll get up on the picnic tables to join us for lunch.  My husband knows how much I love them and wondered aloud what my reaction would be if one hopped up next to me and begged.  As tempted as I might be to make a little friend for the moment, I would not share my food with an island fox. Everything I’ve read about them has taught me that it's in their best interest to forage for native fruits and hunt insects, island deer mice and reptiles. Even snakes.

This fox was wandering around the campground sniffing for dropped snacks and sat down in the sun before curling up to take a short nap as I came closer. It got up again after it drew a larger crowd.

One person wondered aloud if it was breathing.

After walking about a mile from the campground into Scorpion Canyon, I caught sight of alert, cinnamon-colored ears glowing high on the canyonside. Unlike our fox sighting on Santa Rosa Island, we had more time to linger and observe its behavior without fear of missing the boat back to Ventura.

These are heavily cropped 400mm shots of it hunting a snake, quite likely a Santa Cruz Island gophersnake judging by its slightly spotted underside, but I can't say for certain. It cached its prey after biting it behind its neck while shaking it furiously and then continued hunting. There's quite likely a den nearby with fox kits on the way given the time of year.

Santa Cruz Island fox (Urocyon littoralis subspecies santacruzae ) spotted!

Prey located…

The pounce!

Even shooting at 1/400 second, its forehead and ears are ablur here because it was shaking that snake so hard.

You might be able to see faint markings on the unfortunate snake’s underside if you’re checking out this post on a quality monitor.

It appeared to nibble for awhile and then cache its kill.

The hunt continues.

The recovery of this species is a conservation success story and you can read about it here if you're unfamiliar with it. If you'd like to help continue research efforts, consider sending Friends of the Island Fox a few bucks.

Santa Cruz Island has inspired a number of my mixed media paintings. Clicking or tapping on the images of them below will take you to prints of them at Pixel.com.

Anacapa Vista. Transparent watercolor and powdered soft pastel on 300lb cold press paper. 14" x 19" (36 x 48cm).

Two Ravens. Transparent watercolor and powdered soft pastel on 300lb hot press paper. 13" x 19" (33 x 48cm).

In Search of Island Foxes. Transparent watercolor and powdered soft pastel on 300lb cold press paper. 13" x 19" (33 x 48cm).

A flying jewel

I spent some time today appreciating the peridot sweat bees (Augochlorella pomoniella) and other pollinators moving between plants blooming in our garden. There are over 20,000 different species of known bees in the world. They’re all of intrinsic value and important to humanity’s survival as well.

Augochlorella pomoniella working Leptosyne maritima

They were interested in Echinocereus triglochidiatus as well. Claretcup cactus (just one of its many common names) is a favorite of mine. The blossoms look like embers when one catches them backlit.