The Wake-Robin: Three is Magic (Hiking Windy Hill)

Trillium or Wake-Robin

Spring is, indeed, bustin' out all over at Windy Hill Preserve in the Mid-Penninsula Regional Open Space.

An encounter with the three perfect white petals and trinity of glossy leaves in this small white trillium, or Wake-Robin, is a great way to exit the day-to-day and head for another realm.

When it comes to trilliums, it's easy to accept that three really is a magic number.

Oh Baby, it's a Wild World

We all gotta come to terms with it. 

Sometimes the world is a little wilder than others.

Fungus Amongus: The Pink Ones Are Toxic

Hiking Windy Hill 

Click on the toxic princess above

to really enjoy the details

But don't touch, 

if you run into  her on a post-rain hike

As was hoped for, we got a bit of those storms the Oregonians were so kind as to send down our way. Two guesses as to what quick crop the rain brings out in the Santa Cruz Mountains.

I chatted with a mushroom gathering fella close to the end of my hike at Windy Hill Open Space Preserve today. You aren't actually supposed to gather mushrooms in the Open Space, but what do you say? My husband saw another couple at the top of the hill with collecting bags as well. Hopefully enough people are concerned about the possibility of eating the wrong 'shroom that the area doesn't get stripped of it's fungus-bearing potential.

This man was gathering mushrooms under an oak tree. I asked him about this pink beauty I'd snapped on my camera phone further up the hill. He knew just the spot she grew.

"Oh those are very toxic," he said in an English thick with a mellifluous some-kinda-European accent I couldn't place. "They are so toxic that if you even touch them with your fingers, the toxins will enter your bloodstream and .... " he made a vague gesture as to where I might now be, had I had the nerve to perhaps prop up this little pink-topped native plant to enhance her photographic possibilities. The location of his casual gesture was somewhere down the side of the trail in a rather steep ravine.

Don't eat the pink ones.

Foetid Adder's Tongue: If I was a fly...

Click on the Pulgas Ridge Foetid Adder's Tongue illustration above

For a fly's eye view 

If I was a fly
I'd think I had died,
And was on my way to heaven


'Cause what could smell more delicious to me, 
 as I'm sensing along with my micro antennae,
then the rotting aroma of Scoliopus bigelovii?


Though they say I resemble a serpent's tongue, 
That's not what brings the fellas on,
My lovely putriferous odor's the charm.