How to Find a Wildflower
6/6/2024
My cousin Lulu will be coming up to the city tomorrow. We will be looking for wildflowers–but not just any. The kind referred to by their long Latin names which only bloom on certain peaks. It is about looking for the one and of course the metaphorization related to romance or rather the companion kind of partnership will most likely ensue. It is all petal picking when it comes to if he loves you, or if he loves you not, but you have to find the flower first.
Needless to say, I am excited to scale mountains and look for these wildflowers. These blooms that need certain conditions met in order for them to bloom. A biological lesson that I must take notes on.
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Searching for the One (Calochortus tiburonensis)
We woke up early, did the coffee shop thing, crossed a bridge, and were accompanied by Lulu’s friend Ryan. We started our Tiburon Peninsula “frolic” on Ring Mountain. The trek towards Calochortus tiburonensis began in the opposite direction of the majority of these particular Mariposa Lily blooms (we were not aware of this at the time, obviously). The clouds were making it hard for the sun to make an appearance and we kept misidentifying the bodies of water which flanked the peninsula we were on. We hung left, went high, saw a vulture, and reminisced on yesterdays where “anything goes, or anything went I guess.”
Three hours and two bananas later, we saw a snake and decided the left peak was Calochortus tiburonensis-less. Ryan and I left Lulu and started down the foothill, getting ready to go towards the other peak. At this point, I started to feel the hope of finding these flowers waning. I knew I wanted to find them, but Lulu needed to find them. Not because she knew their Latin name or actually owns hiking poles, but because finding an endemic wildflower means something entirely different to her than it does to me or Ryan for that matter. She has a discontinued Polaroid that used to photograph teeth, but she is using it to photograph wildflowers. We waited for Lulu and then like any good third act she spotted them in the nick of time.
The Calochortus that belong only to the Tiburon Peninsula appear otherworldly and orchid-like to a degree–at least according to me, someone who frankly knows very little about plants, but has a nose for Star Jasmine. While Lulu was documenting the bloom a really nice man named Doug joined us. He is somewhat a docent at Ring Mountain. He relayed that he did not even know there were blooms on this left peak. So, Lulu discovered some blooms that potentially would have never gotten their spot light.
Perhaps the best part of it was when we did continue to the opposite peak, being able to spot the lilies in most directions. Lulu ripped Mustard blooms in Guerrilla gardening fashion and spotted a special Calochortus. Something at sometime cross pollinated and made something completely unique and yellow and potentially never before seen.
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It was a joy to wake up early and spend some time walking around looking for something I think most people would not be familiar with. It is hard to steer away from making comments that lean on the aspects of a journey, paths taken, wrong turns, and detours, but whatever. The search for flowers with good company made it something special. For a period of time, I was not thinking about anything revolving around my personal vacuum, but I was focused on hunting down this flower I knew nothing about, other than a general idea of where it is supposed to be. Lulu’s discovery was important. We had to spot a vulture, circle around a massive Eucalyptus twice, spot a snake, and accidentally forge our own trail to find the one in an unlikely place. There will be other “Calochortus tiburonensis” to be found, but I am positive before then there will be so many steep climbs, a vulture, maybe a snake, and amounts of hope lost. But if there is good company and plenty of directed patience plus lucky timing there will be blooms to be seen.
