Last Saturday, after having spent another week of dealing with my lack of connectivity and my ISP's so-called tech support, I decided I could not bear to look at my computer screen for one more minute. So I jumped into the car and headed off in search of Persephone's promise of spring to come.
First of all I drove up to the top of Mt. Diablo, which is--at 3849 feet--the tallest peak in the Bay Area. We had stormy weather the previous week, but still, I was surprised to see snow here and there on the mountain on a 70-degree day.
Not much was blooming yet, although I did see several streaks of California poppy (Eschscholzia californica) against the hillsides. They're among the first wildflowers to bloom every spring. At one time, the hills around San Francisco were so covered with these poppies that they inspired early explorers to use the name "Golden Gate" for the strait that connects San Francisco Bay with the Pacific Ocean.
Further down, I saw the brilliant green new grass under the oak trees. Their gnarled winter-bare branches are just beginning to leaf out.
Here and there I saw fields with intensely yellow wild mustard (Brassica campestris).
But I still didn't get the whiff of springtime for which I was searching. So I turned Audhumla in the opposite direction, and headed off to Pescadaro State Beach and Nature Preserve on the Pacific Coast in San Mateo County. There I saw more mustard, a haughty American Crow (Corvus brachyrhynchos) standing on a rock, and a parking lot full of people who, like me, were drawn outdoors by the sunshine and the beauty of the coastline.
I took the long way home over the Santa Cruz Mountains to La Honda and then along Skyline Boulevard. On the way I drove through deep and dark redwood (Sequoia sempervirens) canyons where I saw only Wild Radish ( Raphanus raphanistrum) along the roadside and licorice fern (Polypodium glycyrrhiza) sprouting from tree trunks. I had some in-a-hurry Type A drivers dogging poor Audhumla's rear end, so didn't have a chance to pull over and get any good tree shots. Here's the one photo I was able to shoot at a turn-out.
The funny thing about my day in search of Persephone is that I really didn't see her fingerprints until I came home and walked through my garden. Here at home, the freesias have gone berserk, filling the air with an entire symphony of fragrance. The red flax (Linum grandiflorum) is blooming its head off, and the species geranium is covered with bright purple flowers. The calla lilies out front are unfurling their big white blossoms. Meanwhile, the snails (Helix aspersa Müller) are making lace from the giant leaves of my Brugmansia sanguinea. (If the Goddess is a snail-lover, I'm in big trouble for I continue to wage mighty battles against the snails in my garden).
In a couple of weeks my coven will gather to celebrate Ostara, the vernal equinox, when we formally welcome Persephone on her return from the underworld. This year the ritual will be at my house, and it looks like the garden will be perfectly ready for the celebration.
spring flower wild+flower Persephone Diablo mountain ocean coast ritual Pagan Paganism celebrate celebration California Northern+California Bay+Area