Heat, Heat, Heat!

Extraordinary heat is the news from Molino Creek Farm…and everywhere around the Central Coast of California. It has been in the 80s during the day for a few days running and going down into the 60s at night – enough to cool the house, thankfully. The sun beat down so wiltingly, burning right through the shirt. Panting finches, beats propped open. The biggest yellow-bellied racer I ever saw, living up to its fast name, slither-whipped across a trail. Snake weather! Clear blue sky days and most sparkling star depth nights. What interrupts the sky are occasional clouds of road dust and legions upon legions of zooplankton. Clouds of tiny metallic green Ceanothus beetles and many others, whirring and spinning above the shimmering hot fields, mopped up by swallows, pounced on by bluebirds.

Quince flowers are always the first to really create some art in the Orchard

Herbivory

The panicky quick growth of Spring is riddled with insect holes, shot through with orange rust fungus. Blue or yellow butterflies energetically flit from leaf to leaf, setting down eggs, flick over to a flower for a sip, and then more frenetic egg laying. Smooth green, fleshy caterpillars or ones covered thickly with prickly black hairs…munch leaves, everywhere, bodies swaying, mouths hungrily arching back into fresh foliage.

Walking with sandals through the hard-to-see overgrown trails makes for orange footwear, orange feet. Wild oat leaves, especially, but also our garlic crop, blackberry and many other plants have been besieged by rust fungi. Leaves turn orange, giving off dusty orange puffs of fungal spores; a closer look reveals thousands of odd evenly spaced orange dots. The fungi are feasting where the insects have failed to feed.

The Deer

The saga of ‘deer in the fence’ continues. We have two large fences. Maybe too large fences. Seems we can’t keep up with the fences. Do fences shrink or are the deer bounding better? Gradually, we add a few more feet on top of the old fence, which was only 4’ of ‘field fencing’ with another set of spaced wires to get the thing to perhaps 7 feet. The wire spacing technique burned up in the last fire, so the top wires hang willy nilly in many places and The Deer find their way over or through that weak link. Gradually, we discover the favored fence jumping spots and add new sections of fencing to close those gaps. Above Vandenberg Field, the (once) new fence extension ends and right where the old, shorter, less effective fence begins…is the Trail of Deer. A team of four (mighty healthy looking) deer come and go as they please through that weak point. This evening, all 4 deer were lined up at the Most Delicious Salad Bar, enjoying a Greek Feast of freshly sprouted grape leaves right at mouth height, held up on vineyard trellis.

Flowers!!!!!

The quick Spring creates a riot of flowers, all blooming at once. The woodlands surrounding the Farm are dense with post-fire California lilac, shiny leaves and hundreds of acres of blue, sweet bouquet. Where the shrubs don’t crowd, native understory flowers bloom: fat false Solomon’s seal and milk maids, redwood sorrel and native blackberry. Out around our fields, in the native prairie, there are rafts of California poppy and the beginnings of the first sky lupine, buttercup, and blue eyed grass. Native grasses are blossoming, too: purple needlegrass and brome, mainly.

The orchards are blooming, too. The earliest pome fruits, quince, are in full joy as are the navel oranges and avocadoes. The scent of citrus wafts far from the orange trees across the farm, a sweet perfume. Cherry blossoms have just burst out in the last couple of days. It won’t be long before the entire apple orchard is pink….so early!

Cover crops bloom in masses. Row after row of bell beans are blossoming in the interstitial areas of the orchard; their fleshy thick leaves barely hiding whorls of big pea flowers. In the row crop fields, daikon radish is head high presenting blinding pure white sheets, abuzz with bees.

This is the way that Spring rushes towards, and soon past, our open-mouthed surprised selves: WOW! Time is moving quickly.

Bell beans’ lush leaves hide pea flowers

Tremulous Time

Humans keep calendars and clocks, rarely aligned with Nature’s metronome. Religion nudges ceremony further, further from the harmonic pulse of seasons, from the spin of Earth, Moon, and Sun. The peeling of millions of people-machines drown timekeeping (dawn and dusk!) birdsong, belching chemical steam, blotching sky, trapping heat, swaying ancient melodies into continuous disharmonious cacophony.

Disoriented humans growing old too fast, days’ flight, years’ fast wrinkle.

Cows on the road into Molino Creek Farm, photo courtesy of M. Lipson

Jumping Ahead

Daylight Savings Time came and March lept into the place where April used to be. Apples are blossoming a month too soon. The blinding greens from the shining fields are already upon us, grass bolting, wildflower riot. Heat waves follow draughts of rain (again!). No more rain foretold and yet too early to believe it is the end of this ‘rainy’ season.

Prescience

Presently taking the time to gaze and smile at verdant hillsides, lush grass and dark green, leafy oaks. Endless ranks of pointy grass strain skyward portending future pokey seeds and ankle-torturing socks. For now, it is grassland Peak Green.

Big, bushy coast live oaks unveil soft new leaves, some trees more yellow, some more red, all gradually turning more uniform dark, prickly, waxy green. Pale dusty pollen filled oak flower tassles dangle from every branch tip; tinier, unseen…stem-hugging female flowers promise acorn births. Farm fields glow at sundown – rafts of white radish, yellow mustard splashes, sprays of bright calendula orange. These will hurry seed-making against all odds, facing the pace of people-priorities under tractor-wheel, mower and plow onto worm-work, rot, and crop-root (joy!).

The varying green of grass and coast live oaks – Photo by M. Lipson

Creature Gathering

Toms and hens, spiders to the wind, and the dawn reveals the arrival of swallows.

The harem found Tom, amused at flashes of facial color (the blues! the reds!), gobbling and strut – cooing encouragement then giggling. Too soon for (echoes of Mardi Gra chiefs) tail displays. The Molino Creek Farm turkey flock saunters along the roads, pecking at field margins. Wondering if this is the same flock that disappeared last early November, all except the Tom: where did they go?

Marty reports spiders taking to the sky. Arachnid astronauts spin and then drop from web ends. Abandoned threads continue downwind, tangling together, creating scattered ropes, white crazy string biotic ‘litter.’ Parachuting predators terrorize fast-reproducing feasts – herbivorous bugs or themselves become wren or robin snacks.

Mysterious moonlit sky trails recently led the barn swallows back to their Molino summer home. They peer into last year’s neglected mud nests, taking stock. Last year’s brood must find new nest locations, not too far from family… collective actions guarantee the coming year’s sibling success. Each whirring swallow eventually lands puddle-side, testing the qualities of mud with both claw and beak.

So goes the rhythm and so goes the song of the consistently changing world at Molino Creek Farm.

Mycorrhizal Meanderings

On February 5, 2026, the upper foot of soil surrounding the Monterey Bay was dry, a week later it was wet. For weeks, during the time of year when our Mediterranean climate should have been at its wettest, the rain had stopped and the sun’s radiance warmed as if it were summer. Shallow soiled areas of prairie turned drought-stressed reds and purples, grasses stopped gaining height and started blossoming. Redwoods and pines wafted clouds of yellow pollen, carried far in the rare warm breeze. Mushrooms and mosses withered and dried. Dust blew off of unimproved roads and farm fields. And then the rains returned.

Coast live oak acorns – these trees rely on fungi for their nutrient and water uptake

Oscillating Unpredictability

Climate change models suggest that we should come to expect the unexpected, waves of hotter and hotter drought interspersed with deluge and destruction. Will being a Mediterranean climate area mean anything anymore in the future? (next time you vote, even in a local election, you are making a choice in this pro-mayhem or pro-life dichotomy) 2026 year marks the 3^rd time since 1986 with such a dry hot period during the time of year when it should be the wettest and coolest. All have been recent. How does Life adapt? I wonder about the fungal webs that are crucial to the forests and shrublands around the Monterey Bay.

Mushrooms are just the ‘tip of the iceberg’ of sometimes extensive fungal mats running through the soil

Natural Fungal Flux

The rhythm of fungi is easy to see if only you look for chanterelles. This bright orange tasty mushroom pushes through leaf duff a while after the ground gets wet. Wetter years make for more mushrooms. Prolonged moisture and not-too-cold weather makes for the biggest crops. Eventually, they get tired and as spring progresses, they disappear until the following wet season. Other mushrooms have their time in this cycle, some preceding the rains by a bit with the shortening days…others bounce out at the first raindrops…and still others wait for the warmth and drying of summer. Peak mushroom diversity used to be typically in that middle zone, in January, when the landscape had long been very wet and the days quite short and cool.

Dependency

The handful of oak species in our region along with the redwoods, pines, and firs require fungal communities to survive. So, too, do the manzanitas and madrones. In the orchards, almonds, apples, pears, hazelnuts, walnuts and so much more likewise depend on fungi to do their foraging. These trees have no root hairs to soak up nutrients and water; instead, they have evolved roots engineered to house fungi. Trees supply fungi sugars and fungal webs spread out through the ground, supplying trees nutrients and water. Dr. Tom Parker at San Francisco State University discovered 250 species of fungi under a single manzanita bush. We know very little about which fungi do what for who.

Under My Oak

I planted two coast live oaks in my yard, and one has been very evidently nurturing an interesting fungus. Dead Man’s Foot is a kind of puff bally thing that sticks a large, 6-inch or so, stumpy dark brown ugly ill-formed mass out of the leaf litter in the late spring. Some suggest a shallow burial with an emergent rotting foot, but it doesn’t smell unpleasant. As I mow grasses short each spring, this area doesn’t need much attention, except to rake up oak leaves. The grass barely grows and other weeds are missing – the place is nearly bare: the dead man’s foot is delivering every bit of nutrient to this fast-growing oak. Nearby, another oak planted at the same time doesn’t have these phenomena: it grows more slowly, is emersed in tall grass and weeds, and doesn’t have any fungi popping up in its understory (yet!).

What Happens

How will the climate change driven droughts and deluges affect fungi and the life that depends on them? There are a suite of fungi that follow wildfire, but will they withstand more frequent and more severe fires? Will the succession of winter fungi that are used to long, cool, moist winters survive winters that are less predictable? How will the forests and shrublands fare if their fungal foundations are shaken? How will we even know?

Frog Song

Frog song, forest tending, restoration reflections, and burn piles – just a few of the things happening at Molino Creek Farm this past week.

The geological substrate of the Farm: Santa Cruz Mudstone. (this one looks grumpy). This is on an old railroad grade bank- lower restoration site in an area planted with purple needle grass in 2010

Frog Song

The cement pond has lots of algae and lots of frogs, singing. This is the second season with a new regimen of pond management. In summer, we try to keep the pond swimmable with chlorine and such. As winter approaches, we stop with the chemicals and allow the pond to go feral. The algae starts growing and frogs quickly move in, and also the newts. The frogs are Pacific chorus frogs, which are relatively small but loud. They can change color in just a few hours to blend in better to their surroundings. For unknown reasons, they start singing louder and louder and then stop, then build up steam again and stop again…right through the night and sometimes in the day. Guests staying the Barn are quite close to the cacophony, which takes some getting used to if one wants to sleep. They are laying eggs which become thousands of tadpoles that gradually grow legs and hop away into the adjoining orchards where they help control pests. Well, I suppose no few of those tadpoles get eaten by newts, which also make eggs and newtlets in the pond.

Forest Tending

We are still cleaning up after the 2020 wildfire, and that cleaning up is helping to prepare for the next one. Bob Brunie has been hard at work getting a patch of Douglas fir in order. That stand adjoins our entrance road and presented quite a hazard during the recent wildfire: it was burning so intensely as to thwart any attempt to use the road, so it was briefly impossible to quickly respond to threats to uphill structures, which may have resulted in some wildfire damage. The fire left lots of dead trees and parts of trees – fuel for future wildfire and a repeat of the last one in blocking the road. So, Bob’s been chopping down dead trees, trimming up branches, and hauling out understory fuels to be burned in piles. We were concerned about Douglas fir invasion before the last fire, but now stands have become quite rare, so this project has become a kind of important forest restoration project. Plus, a shady grove is welcome on hot summer days and some wildlife species probably are glad for it.

Meanwhile, I spent a bit of time cleaning up burned willows and fallen conifers on another patch of farm ground- alongside our ephemeral stream where one day there might be some good camping spots.

Let’s reflect a little deeper on some other longer-term restoration work the Farm has been up to…

Bracken fern is plentiful in the upper restoration site

Scrub Transformation

Molino Creek Farm landmates and a network of generous community members have been working with nature to steward this land since 1982 and recently have been embarking on coastal prairie restoration. Photos from the 1980’s show much of this land as meadows. The legacy of indigenous land tending presented lush prairies to the first colonists who took advantage of the abundant forage to feed livestock. Barbara McCrary reported that her husband Lud’s grandfather’s journals noted landscape-level neighborliness with gatherings on this parcel to tend the hay crop in the late 1800’s. Only recently, because of changed stewardship, have the meadows been transforming into scrubland, but two wildfires helped reverse that and we’ve been taking advantage of those to nudge the ecosystem back to the very-endangered coastal prairie ecosystem.

Small flowered needle grass in the upper restoration site: rare situation- most of the area doesn’t have native grassland species, yet.

Recent Prairie History

Two wildfires, a prescribed fire, and large-scale mowing have been tilting two large sections of south-facing slopes towards the grassland direction. In 2009, the Lockheed Fire engulfed 270 degrees of the Farm and firefighters set back burns to one of what is becoming a south-facing restoration site. Firefighters fanned across the slope and, just in time, set the scrubland above Vandenberg Field on fire, pulling advancing wildfire away from one of our homes. The slope subsequently erupted in thistles and then reverted to scrubland by the time the 2020 CZU Lightning Complex Fire once again burned it. With it went an area downhill in what has become the second restoration site (below Vandenberg Field). In 2024, the Central Coast Prescribed Burn Association burned that second site. After each of those burns on the second site, Moliñeros scattered locally collected grass and wildflower seeds, including across an acre that had been planted in 2010 in native grasses and coastal scrub species. Matthew Todd helped us last year to mow the uphill site, which had burned in 2009 and 2020 but was around 5 feet tall in poison oak, coyotebrush, and French broom.

The lower restoration site, which we have seeded, has lupines and poppies- here just beginning to flower

Restoration Now

Interestingly, the two restoration sites are evolving quite differently. For both sites, ecological reactions to the first fires were similar: very poor-looking soil, lots of bare ground, then broadleaf weeds (thistles), and then resprouting coastal scrub species. After 2 quick-succession fires and seeding, the lower site is transforming into very lush grassland. After 2 widely spaced fires and then mowing last year, the upper site has only rare patches of grassland and lots of broadleaf weeds/resprouting coastal scrub species. If the lessons from the lower site apply, that upper site needs another fire, and/or mowing…soon – and seeding!

It is most curious that the soil seems so poor during early stages of restoration and then gradually produces more and more lush grassland. Is it because so much of the nutrients are caught up in scrub biomass, and that has to decompose and become available for the grassland…or, is there some soil biome shifts occurring? Maybe one day we’ll know!

Burn Piles

A key component of this land tending is biomass disposal. If we don’t do it, Nature will! We were pleased that the 2020 CZU Fire burned up many brush piles, but we might have placed them better and surely lots of critters, thinking they were safe below all that biomass, were cooked alive. To avoid burning up critters, we move piled up brush to an adjoining spot to burn. Wherever brush is piled and rests for more than a few days, there are lizards, snakes, rodents, and sometimes even foxes hiding in the mess.

This land creates an amazing abundance of biomass, which presents a threat when wildfire comes. This productivity is evident in our row and orchard crops and equally easy to see in the growth of scrub, grassland, and forest. The post-fire cleanup has generated a lot more biomass to be moved around (MOOP!), mostly burned but maybe we’ll figure out gully stuffing and chipping at some point. We should probably aim for 70 burn piles a year to keep making progress; we are at 15ish now with more stuff piling up by the day and we have until April to burn it up (or wait until next December). Bonfire Fun!

City of Santa Cruz Town Hall

Putting the City of Santa Cruz in perspective, an aerial view from a flight on 2/2/2026

What if there was a Community Town Hall in the City of Santa Cruz? Might such an endeavor help Santa Cruzans learn to support politicians more representative of their better-informed viewpoints? Could we add to the growing national movement to overcome entrenched, well-funded, and prejudiced political organizations? Is it possible that a Community Town Hall could help steward civic engagement to better inform decision making on critical issues?

Outcomes

If such an institution could be formed, how would we measure its value? In the long term, we would want this potentially expensive endeavor to be politically relevant. In the shorter term, participants would need to see it as a good use of their time. We would want the populace to agree that it well represented them in every respect. And, we would want to see increasingly more people being civically engaged, including more voter registration and turnout during elections.

Background

The term “town hall” is well used and has deep roots in US society. Elected officials have used town halls in various ways. Cynically, they are seen as ways of “representatives” seemingly listening to their constituents. But, how frequently do elected officials change anything from such feedback? Especially recently, such meetings have been disrupted by angry people and activists. The internet suggests that town halls are ways that company leadership hears from their employees. Buried deep in the internet searches, you find the term ‘community town hall,’ and even a bit of guidance on running such things.

Generally speaking, community town halls have rules and facilitation that allows respectful civic dialogue, sometimes between the community and their elected officials or other decision makers. I am not aware of any current, regular or even periodic convening of a town hall near Santa Cruz. For years, there was the Penny University but covid and the death of Paul Lee seem to have brought that to a halt. In the deeper past, I have taken part in faux town halls about the future of Cotoni Coast Dairies on two occasions run by two different organizations with no apparent outcomes. Besides those, there have been numerous ‘public input’ meetings but those are completely different.

Methodology

I would like to hear from others, but have a few ideas to share about how I see a Santa Cruz Town Hall being organized. The first imperative would be to form a representative body, engaging social scientists to help design that process. Participants probably ought to have ‘alternates’ to step in when they are unable to participate. Then there is the question of issue-formation: how will the focus of the Town Hall be informed? It seems like issues to be contemplated ought to be relevant and timely. One thing people seem to agree on about town hall methodology is that meetings need professional facilitation. It seems also important that the town hall’s deliberations have some level of buy in from decision makers, but these folk need not be key members of the town hall. Town hall leadership, though, is necessary. Perhaps a leadership committee could be formed. The facilitators and leaders would need to work together to formulate the deliberative processes and rules for the town hall.

Science, Fact, and Expert-based?

It seems important that sound deliberative processes should be science-based, but is that okay? The deliberative processes that I have seen work center on exploring the common curiosity of participants by collaboratively seeking out the best available information. Adults learn best when they feel the information they are hearing is provided by legitimate sources sharing salient information. However, some factions of today’s society have been suggesting that there are flaws in our information gathering system. If that is an issue in our community, we need to learn how to accommodate those concerns.

The Voice And Greater Engagement

How will a town hall have a voice and how will its work translate to the larger community? The role of journalism is one key issue that needs to be resolved. And, there will need to be deliberation of guidance about how to communicate the ideas that emerge from town hall processes.

However it is designed, the town hall needs to have a community engagement strategy. Somehow, a reciprocal flow of information between the town hall and the larger community seems important.

Suggestions? Want to Help?

If the City of Santa Cruz is to have a Town Hall, we need more ideas, commitment, and funding. If you want to contribute those, please let me know. We certainly need suggestions about how to best design this thing. And we need folks who are willing to help lead, facilitate, and convene the group. At first, a team will help as we work out a strategy and gather funding. After the strategy and funding are built, implementation may require more or different people. I’m hoping this idea resonates. Let’s see where it goes.

-this post originally published as part of the amazingly informative BrattonOnline blog – check it out and stay in touch!

Rain at Molino Creek Farm

Rain runs off of bark, soaks into soil, and hisses as it soaks rapidly into mudstone pores. Drops percolate through the earth, moistening roots and wetting bugs, coalescing into aquifers, seeping out in springs, flowing down as streams. Rainwater mixes with rain whipped ocean salt droplets but remains rather pure. As downpours, showers, or drizzle, rainwater washes nutrients out of the soil past slurping, hungry roots, bathing micro-organisms in nourishing soup. More pristine, richer soils more effectively capture free nutrients. More disturbed/tilled poorer ground loses nutrients. Nitrogen in particular leaches from disturbed soils and finds its way into groundwater or rivers, sometimes in such quantities as to be classified as pollutants.

Rain water collects in tractor rut in our perched-high Vandenberg Field, farmed by Two Dog Farm

Watershed

The Molino Creek watershed begins in vast swaths of maritime chaparral growing in fractured mudstone with very little discernable soil. Manzanitas, ceanothus, bush poppy, and such are the dominant chaparral shrubs, growing symbiotically with fungi. When the winter storms drench this chaparral, rocks soak up the first good bit before water soaks into the millions of cracks through this highly fractured rock. Down it soaks, a few feet for every inch of rainfall. There’s not much in that water, the nutrient poor ground rife with fungal threads gives up little to the flow. Under the mudstone is a dense sandstone. The interface is a line of springs. The seeping water converges, forming Molino Creek.

Tributary

There’s a tributary on our farm and it remains unnamed. Most know this stream for its 25-foot waterfall, which splashes noisily through the winter. There’s a productive spring in this stream and below it the stream flows year-round, although just a trickle in the drier summers. When the waterfall really roars, we know that the karst below us is full and to expect the lowest sinkhole to become a lake shortly. Water piles out of foot-diameter holes, pillows of powerful flow billow up into the rising lake.

One of the handful of holes connecting to karst from whence issues water during high rainfall events

Looking down the karstic hole…how far does it go?

Sink Holes

There are 5 larger sink holes on Molino Creek Farm and there are more on adjoining open space lands. The largest pock of collapsed limestone is 50 feet deep just off a trail downhill a bit on Cotoni Coast Dairies parkland. We also haven’t named the lowest, largest sinkhole but we see it most years, sometimes even with a flock of ducks. There is no known limestone on the other side of Molino Creek for a hundred miles north along the coast, but the limestone continues south to Santa Cruz and then appears again in Big Sur. Our farm’s sinkholes have nice deep soil to allow tomatoes lots of foraging space for nutrients and water. Somewhere way down below there are caves – tiny honeycomb caves or grand ballrooms decorated with flowstone and stalactites. Sometimes, they collapse, creating a dent in the ground above.

Rain-kissed Persian limes hang thickly awaiting harvest

Citrus

Citrus Hill grows and produces – more each year. We planted many orange, lemon, lime, and mandarin trees in 2019 (-ish), and those are starting to produce. These trees are 4 – 8 feet tall, they are deep green and laden with fruit. We have harvested and distributed over 150 pounds of Persian limes with another 70 that are ready ‘to go’ (right now). Browsing harvesters are snacking on the first ripening mandarins. Four hundred pounds of oranges will gradually ripen between now and 3 more months. Meyer lemons are also slowly ripening.

A gravel road with a 'rolling dip' that is shown melding with a ditch to drain water off of a farm road — Ditch meets road drain rolling dip on the main road into Molino Creek Farm

Roads

Our farm is 3.5 miles from the highway and we maintain another 3+ miles of roads on the farm. This land use changes Nature, requires work, and has many great advantages. The most evident road effect is hydrological: roads become waterways, sluicing rain and runoff into ditches and drains, carrying mud and road gravel. Human and non-human animals use the road routes – easier than the alternative. Long ago, the road from the highway was so poor that it required four-wheel drive and chains. Before that, it was on the back of horses or mules, ox carts, etc. and up a now-obliterated road parallel with Molino Creek.

Shovel and tractor, sweat and sore muscles, are called upon to keep the road drains clear, to spread new material, to fill holes.

Newts and Frogs

With the soaking drizzle, raining right through the night, amphibians are on the move. Driving home up the Coast Highway at 9pm, red-legged frogs were making brave attempts to cross the road in the pouring rain. Rough skinned newts were flashing their tummies, heads held high, trying to be seen. It was slow going slalom to avoid the critters. The small chorus frogs are singing loudly all night long in the cement pond next to the barn where they are laying eggs and cavorting. As a friend pointed out…when it is raining, the whole world is amphibian habitat!

Enjoy the Rain!

Humans, Dogs, and Social Nature

A friend recently pointed out how one aspect of human behavior can provide hints about other parts of our personalities. For instance, with people who enjoy spicy foods: might it be interesting to see how they integrate endorphin rushes into other parts of their lives. Might they act in ways that invites pain, in other ways?

Similarly seeking analogs, I wonder if how people treat their pet dogs says something about their world view, in general?

What kind of person could treat this dog poorly? He was a good pet.

Fido, Get Over HERE!

Get their attention first by yelling their name, then give them stern ‘BAD DOG’ words. Yell it again if necessary, and again. If they finally show up, then smack them.

This habit of barking orders at dogs over and over, every time that the person feels the need to control their dog makes me wonder how that person sees the world. Physical brutality on top of that, just when a dog has (finally) acted as directed, makes me very sad for those relationships. Does command and control and physical brutality make sense in the larger world to such people?

A Whistle Does It

On the other hand, I’ve seen people who have the most cooperative and loving relationships with their dogs. For instance, a certain whistle brings the dog running, tail wagging. Invariably when asked about how these people got to that point with their pet dogs, they say it took a lot of time and effort. Honing communication combined with positive reinforcement are key. Are people who arrive at such non-violent relationship building with pet dogs also apt to have a similarly well-evolved means of relating to their fellow humans?

Different dog breeds have different temperaments, to be sure, but communication is key.

What To Do?

I routinely run into this issue and it really bothers me. The Capitola DMV has it. The Davenport US Post Office has it. I bet you’ve seen it, too: signs that say something to the effect of ‘No Animals Allowed Inside.’ What are humans if not animals? Minerals?

This problem of mine also crops up regularly in social commentary and literature when some ‘smart’ person decides to add their (sometimes ‘witty’) comments about what separates humans from non-human animals. Such arguments are generally flawed and baseless.

Social Animals

How might the world be better if we learned from the science of how social animals have worked out social problems? What if our conversations turned that direction regularly? And, what if humans thought a lot about that when adopting social animals into our lives?

Learning from Nature

There is a wealth of wisdom that Nature can share. Humans have benefited greatly from many of those lessons, and additional learning can take us much further.

When we see ourselves in the dogs we are trying to acculturate into our lives, we learn both how to better mesh with the dog and better hold ourselves in human society.

We might also apply this kind of learning with other social animals in our lives: parrots/parakeets/etc, deer, crows, cows, goats, quail, etc.

The finest people have the finest pets. Do dogs really look like their owners?

Cautions and Next Steps

We taught to be cautious about ‘anthropomorphizing’ non-human animal traits. The caution goes that doing so might make you blind to important differences. How about some balance here, and the adoption of a new word? How about cautioning about ‘anthroscism’ – advancing the idea that humans are somehow wildly different than all the rest of the animals? Same kind of reasoning holds: doing so might make you blind to important similarities.

Your homework: start a conversation this week about some human reaction you see that reminds you of how non-human animals act and why that might be.

-this post originally appeared as part of the online weekly blog BrattonOnline.com – a compendium of important information from around the Monterey Bay and beyond. There are movie and TV review, historic photographs from Santa Cruz, links to great media, and columns from amazingly well informed authors. Check it out! Subscribe!! donate!!!! The Blog Needs Your Support.

The Meadows of Scotts Valley

When you think of Scotts Valley, what comes to mind? What comes to my mind are hours of tedious battles to save what was left of the remarkable meadows, which are home to some fascinating species. Embedded in those memories are lessons about how other people viewed those meadows and the diversity of human perspectives.

Glenwood and Santa’s Village

Highway 17 bisected some fascinating grasslands in Scotts Valley. On the west side of the highway, one can visit what remains of the Glenwood meadows. It is called the Glenwood Open Space Preserve and is owned by the City of Scotts Valley and managed by the Land Trust of Santa Cruz County. I’m not sure how many native species are left now, but in the 1990’s when I joined the battle to save those meadows, we used R. Morgan’s statistic of an extraordinary 250 native plants on just over 200 acres. The meadows would erupt in spectacular displays of lupines and poppies, each hillslope a slightly different color with many other wildflower species.

Home to Rarities

To the east side of Highway 17 the last remaining meadow is at what was formerly known as Santa’s Village or the Polo Ranch. This smaller meadow was recently carved apart to make room for a luxury housing development by the seemingly ubiquitous Lennar Homes. Though smaller, this meadow has wonderful botanical surprises both in shallow-soiled dry rocky places and in some seepy wetlands.

These meadows are the home to the federally endangered Scotts Valley spineflower and the state-listed endangered Scotts Valley polygonum, species found nowhere else in the world. The state-listed endangered San Francisco popcornflower is awaiting better management in the seedbank in both meadows. A distinct form of Gray’s clover, if it survives, will probably one day be called the Scotts Valley clover as will a distinct form of Douglas’ sandwort – both should be listed as critically endangered and are only in the Polo Ranch meadow. A population of the State-listed rare Pacific grove clover has been found in the Glenwood meadow. The federally listed endangered Ohlone tiger beetles are also found in these meadows and in only 5 other places…all within Santa Cruz County. Opler’s long-horned moth, which should also be listed as endangered, is found feeding on cream cups in the Glenwood meadows. Western pond turtles have been found in the Glenwood pond, which would also make great habitat for the rare California red-legged frog were it not for nonnative fish which were put there a while back.

Prior Losses

Scotts Valley has a long history of destroying the things that made it a very special place and replacing those special things with poorly planned housing developments. One gets the distinct feeling that poor planning is a hallmark of that town, which has no town center and is entirely sprawl. Smells like a legacy of greed combined with lack of civic engagement and the resulting pro-developer elected official. My mentor R. Morgan lamented the loss of the marsh that was once at Camp Evers, an ancient peat bog like no other for hundreds of miles. Then there was the development at Skypark, which was an airport and now has a small fragment of the once wildflower-rich extensive meadows.

Scotts Valley High

Since the early 1990’s, as I’ve been following the more recent destruction of Scotts Valley’s ecosystems, the first to get to bulldozed was the Scotts Valley High School site. There were other sites but someone in power got their way, sacrificing rare species and permanently destroying a treasure of immense value. So powerful were the proponents that they managed to protect only tiny set aside areas for the rare species, spaces that were doomed to fail. Promises of integrating these small conservation areas with high school biology classes never materialized. Management for the endangered San Francisco popcornflower has never succeeded.

Glenwood Open Space Preserve

With great effort, the Friends of Glenwood, the California Native Plant Society and the Sierra Club managed to fend off 200+ homes and a golf course that had been proposed at the site.

Meanwhile, the Land Trust of Santa Cruz County is both succeeding and failing to manage this preserve. On one hand, they have been quite successful in managing for the most endangered species on the property- the Ohlone tiger beetle. This beautiful beetle has flourished because of their work. On the other hand, the habitat for the Pacific Grove clover seems to have been lost due to poor decisions. And, large areas of the property are being overcome by invasive species such as stinkwort and French broom.

Santa’s Village

Legal wrangling and the California Native Plant Society’s (CNPS) negotiations resulted in the protection of a small private park above 40+ homes. CNPS fought to have fewer homes, arguing that more homes would require more grading, which would threaten the hydrology of the steep terrain and its rare plants. Undeterred and supported by the ‘any development is good development’ Scotts Valley City Council, the home builders dug into the hillsides which subsequently collapsed, severely damaging the rare plant habitat. After years of delaying any management, the preserve area degraded due to brush and weed encroachment. But, after many years, the Wildlife Heritage Foundation is managing the property and trying to restore some of the rare species. Let’s wish them luck!

Lessons Learned

Scotts Valley has been, like Capitola, pro-sprawl whereas Santa Cruz is hemmed in. Just wait…one day Santa Cruz may re-think its greenbelt. Maybe I’ll get to hear another City Council person tell me that if such-and-such endangered species was in their yard they’d destroy it. Maybe I’ll once again hear a developer say something like ‘that Ohlone tiger beetle is probably the most common bug in the world!’ As pressure grows to develop around the Monterey Bay, I hope that we figure out sooner than later how to ensure that natural areas remain natural. How about third-party conservation easements on our parks? Can you not see how municipalities like the City of Santa Cruz will one day try to build housing on its greenbelt? Even State Parks will see that pressure. It seems to me that land trusts should be eyeing those opportunities with interest. They could be helping to guarantee longer-term conservation now that we’ve seen how quickly the tides can turn against conservation as the populace gets poorer and the developers get richer and more powerful.

Appreciations

I feel gratitude for many of the actions people are doing to help nature around the Monterey Bay. In this column, I will extend praise for those actions to specific people but inevitably will overlook others to whom I apologize in advance…chalk it up to not knowing everything everyone is up to or just plain forgetfulness. I also realize that no one is perfect, so I focus on the specific actions that I appreciate, not the whole of what anybody or group of people does, which might include things that are, on the other hand, very bad for nature.

First Peoples

I lead with my appreciation for the First Peoples for their care for the Monterey Bay region. It is not hyperbole to say we owe everything we experience, the whole of nature, to the First People. The people who are and were indigenous to this place for thousands and thousands of generations took care of this land – every part of it. From squirrel to deer, from river to ridge, from the tallest oak to the tiniest wildflower – these things are here because of those people. The descendants of some of these people are still here, and we have much to learn from them and alongside them if we care to do so. They are still weaving together the fabric of this wonderful part of Earth.

Organic Farmers

I also appreciate organic farmers for caring for nature. By shunning the use of synthetic chemicals for pesticides and fertilizers, organic farmers are avoiding poisoning nature. These farmers forgo these things, pay fees for certification and inspection, and work harder to produce food that often times, to me, tastes better. Farming is not an easy career. I am so glad that I can afford organically grown food and that there is such an abundance produced in our region. There are lots of organic farmers that have inspired me, but I especially think of Phil Foster (Pinnacle Farm), Ronald Donkevoort(Windmill Farms), and Jane Friedmon and Ali Edwards (the original Dirty Girl Farm), and Jerry Thomas (Thomas Family Farm) as inspirations.

Weed Warriors

I want to give thanks to the folks who have long battled invasive plants in our area. Some of the hardest work protecting nature is done by the Monterey Bay’s weed warriors. These folks often volunteer their time to battle the worst invasive species affecting natural areas. They’ve battled French broom, jubata grass, ice plant, sticky Eupatorium, and on and on. Ken Moore was the godfather of weed warriors through his founding of the Wildland Restoration Team (interview pt. 1and pt. 2), but there have been many others. Linda Broadman worked with Ken and carries the torch through her leadership with the Habitat Restoration Team of the Santa Cruz Chapter of the California Native Plant Society. The Monterey District of State Parks deserves mention for steadfastly and regularly organizing volunteers to control invasive plants. Then, of course, there are the many volunteers who actually do much of the work…

Conservation Activists

This is where my appreciation will surely fall short as there are so many people who deserve recognition. Conservation activists often take civic engagement quite seriously. I am in awe of the many nature conservation activists who have fought and won so many important battles around the Monterey Bay. I have enjoyed learning from and sometimes working alongside Celia and Peter Scott, Bruce Bratton, Jodi Frediani, Michael Lewis and Jean Brocklebank, Corky Matthews, Gillian Greensite, Debbie and Richard Bulger, and Don Stevens. Behind and working with these good people were expert and dedicated legal support from Debbie Sivas, Jonathan Wittwer, Gary Patton, and Bill Parkin. Folks who have been affiliated with the Rural Bonny Doon Association and Friends of the North Coast also deserve recognition. Without people who are willing to donate their time, expertise, good judgement, intelligence, and skills we would not have much of the open space that species need to survive.

Tending the Fire

I have been so pleasantly surprised to see so much work with prescribed fire in our community. For me, this started years ago with Cal Fire including more recently as Angela Bernheisel led the first good fire at Soquel Demonstration State Forest. I have been thankful also to the work of the Central Coast Prescribed Burn Association, including their leaders Jared Childress and Spencer Klinefelter. State Parks’ Portia Halbert is a dynamo for putting good flames on the ground and an inspiration to so many others in moving that powerful tool forward. This prescribed fire work is tricky and takes brave people who know so much about so many sciences to get that kind of work done. Plus, they have to work well with others because it takes so many others to do that kind of work. They are restoring nature while making our communities safer. Thank you.

Politicians

For the last 35 years, there have been few politicians in our area that have openly declared nature to be central to their platforms, and I deeply appreciate those who have. Currently, there are very few indeed. State Senator John Laird seems to me to be an outstanding example of how a politician might succeed when keeping environmental conservation a publicly stated priority. Mayor of Marina, Bruce Delgado, is another example. I wish there were more than just those two, but that says something about both the need for more folks to run for office and the public’s will to prioritize such things when they vote.

-this post originally appeared at my weekly column for BrattonOnline.com where one can subscribe and get the best local, regional, and global news from very smart and observant people.

Annual Penultimate Post for Molino Creek Farm

-I post nearly weekly from Valentine’s Day until Thanksgiving a blog about Molino Creek Farm. So, this is the second to last post for 2026.

Rain. Every vignette, each part of the farm…the entire region…is being wetted. This rain drives the moisture deeper into summer-dried soil awakening new life for the winter season.

Forest Drops

The rain is captured and concentrated in the high boughs of redwoods and firs. Drizzle coalesces into big drops plummeting, sometimes making sharp smacks against limbs, shattering. Mostly, though, the raindrops are muffled quietly diffusing into deep, fluffy needle duff. Giant bananaslugs scoonch across trunks leaving silvery slime trails.

Scrub Soak

Resinous coyote bushes slump, covered with white fresh seed fluff made heavy with water. The bushes densely glisten even under cloud-capped sky. Exploring newly emerging liverworts or mushrooms, you dare not squeeze between those hulking shapes: brushing up against one instantly soaks. Edges of shrubby patches will have to do for the liverwort expeditions. Alarm squeaks resound: families of golden crowned sparrows flush deeper into cover. They are the cryptogam farmers.

Flushing Grasses

Gopher mounds bristle like alarmed hedgehogs. Although dense, the single first leaves of 2” tall grass seedling spikes haven’t covered the moist, deep brown soil. Ferny blue-green rosettes of California poppy catch droplets that magnify and distort their otherwise tidy appearance. The arched dense cover of perennial grass blades dance and bob in heavy downpours.

Tilled Mud

Furrows of loose soil, freshly plowed or harrowed flatten gradually as they saturate. Mud puddles form in tire tracks. Liquified dirt flows in rivulets, down rodent holes, backing up against obstacles, painting one color what had been complex hues of soil surface-chopped plant residue. In between showers, these tilled areas waft thick and sweet soil scent.

Puddled Roads and Trails

Cows lower their massive noses to road puddles – convenient drinking areas far from the trough. Birds delight in the ubiquitous baths, wings splashing, heads scooping, beaks open sucking up sweet fresh rainfall. Every trail and road is dotted with puddles.

End of the Season

The last Palo Alto Farmer’s Market of the season for Molino Creek Farm this Saturday. Bodhi powered the tractor across the fields, discing and planting cover crop into the night Tuesday. Orchard cover cropping progressed with whatever hours I could spare, however many hours my body could muster – alas, only half done before this week’s rainstorm! Imagining the swelling of bell bean seeds, licked by snails, prodded by earthworms in the freshly turned soil.

Strong dark wax boxes of winter squash are stacked high and curing just inside the south-facing doorway of the Two Dog Farm greenhouse.

Farmers wend their way slowly one more time down the rows of tomatoes, happily surprised to be harvesting tomatoes this close to Thanksgiving.

Heavy shoulder bags of apples filled on the steep orchard hillside and hoisted onto the sorting table. Fuji and Braeburn are the last varieties this year to go to market. Sweet and juicy but each having their own very unique flavor, vastly different. We will too soon miss the crunch of that wonderful fruit. A reminder to relish the appreciation of what you have before its gone. I take extra-long to finish a fresh-picked apple nowadays, making sure to chew and taste while gazing at the skin and flesh…the juice…the release of complex aroma upon each crisp bite.