Creative Writing Wander in Fremont Canyon

Today's writing wander in the mouth of Fremont: memorable due to the 30 mph gusts of Santa Ana wind, which made the oak canopy sound like a waterfall if you closed your eyes (thanks Sueanne for that accurate comparison). I began a poem about it:

Airs Poetica
Fremont Canyon, Santa Ana wind

In my low
front row seat
I am sheltered
by the crumbling
yellow sandstone
cliffs that amp-
lify this morning
concert: oak
choirs rise
up canyon, sway
branch arms, rattle
hallelujah leaves,
roar out windsong—
I am crushed
under the air's
crescendo.

We found our places on the sand and sandstone banks of the shallow creek that made another kind of music when the wind paused. Then, after writing almost an hour in the canyon, we hiked a short way up the steep road toward the Irvine Lake overlook. Time ran out, though, and we had to turn back before we got to the lake view.

What we did get a glimpse of: a whole miniature world of biological crust--including moss and lichen and liverworts--on the northfacing roadcut along the washed-out red dirt road. The photo above is a liverwort called Asterella californica. I spent over an hour looking up info about them after I got home. It would all probably be TMI for anyone not wholly fascinated with these weird life forms that have no veins to carry water and nutrients. In other words, what looks like a leaf is not a leaf; it's a thallus.

And what looks like a tiny flower on a stalk in the photo is actually this: “When the gametophyte has become fertilized and is ready to produce its sporophyte generation it may grow a tall green umbrella-shaped structure called the carpocephalum. The sporophyte grows on the underside of this structure, often completely hidden from view.” TMI for some, absolutely fascinating for others. If you fall into the second group, see

http://www.perspective.com/nature/plantae/bryophytes.html

Shoe notes: (and what outing is complete without them?)
After last week's painful re-introduction to running shoes on the Dilley hike, I decided to just wear socks and sandals on today's short outing. This was fine except on the steep downhill—I slipped several times. (The bottom of the sandals has zero tread.) I wished I were barefoot . . . I've been on some tilted and slippery sandstone trails in the last couple of months, and my bare feet have not lost their grip yet.