
Maybe next year we’ll make lemonade.

I used to think Tagetes lemmonii was so-called because it smells citrusy. But it’s actually named after John Gill Lemmon (1832-1908), who, with his wife Sara Allen Plummer Lemmon (1836-1923), collected plants throughout the American West.
Since first discovering it decades ago at Huntington Gardens, I’ve planted it at every place I’ve lived.

Yesterday was my birthday. Inspired by Yvea Moore and others in the nature journalling community, I invited some friends to help me celebrate by picking up litter on Venice Beach. It’s a tradition I hope goes viral. (Let’s see … on any given day, about 11,000 people in Los Angeles are celebrating their birthday. Imagine if they all took a couple of friends and picked up litter for an hour on this one day per year. It could really make a difference, right?)


In amongst the native sagebrush and laurel sumac in the Malibu Bluffs Open Space is a big healthy patch of non-native Pride of Madeira. Even though it doesn’t ‘belong’ there, the bees, hummingbirds, orange-tips and tiny native pollinators are loving it.

Agave americana (maguey) is a huge, sharp, blue-green succulent that blooms once, then dies. The flower spike ranges from 12-25 feet (3.5-7.5m) in height — this one by our driveway is just getting started. The bloom trigger mechanism is not well understood, but it generally flowers at about 10 years of age. The fruit are edible — I’ll be collecting and sautéing them when the time comes.

I sketched this coyote a few weeks ago from a different angle. There are eight mosaic sculptures in Malibu’s Legacy Park by the artist Robin Indar. Maybe I’ll eventually get around to sketching them all.
