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 3rd 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.
A large coast live oak
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, 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.
Post 2020 fire redwoods- resprouting!
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!
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 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.
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!
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.
Here it is…suddenly the season where we reflect on what it means to be thankful and what to be thankful about. All around us, beings are ecstatically grateful every moment. But, us humans seem to segregate our thankful moments, relegating them to holidays or ceremonies. Well, we should be happy for the ability to reflect in such a way, however it occurs.
A recent sunset from Molino Creek Farm
Deep Time Thanks
Molino Creek Farm lies within the unceded territory of the Awasawas, or Santa Cruz People, in the Cotoni tribe. They lived on and cared for our land. They left lots of artifacts. There are places where seashells are still coming out of the soil. There are lots and lots of chert and some obsidian flakes. We have found bowls, mortars, and cooking stones. They were the first human inhabitants of this land and they took care of the old growth redwoods and ancient oaks that we still enjoy. Their land management made our soil rich for the crops we still grow.
The Greek Ranch and Transition
Much more recently, us Molino Creek Farm folks have The Greek Ranch and then Kay Thornley, Harlow Dougherty, Jim Pepper, Steve Gliessman, and others to thank for being here. There were years of hippies living here, wild years as we understand back in the Greek Ranch days. As the Greek Ranch transitioned to Molino Creek Farm, this contingent from UC Santa Cruz managed to purchase the land and created the organization that we have now. Many thanks to the folks who had the patience and fortitude to wade through all sorts of issues in establishing this cooperative.
A few Lisbon lemons still left on the trees
Farming
Joe Curry, Judy Low, Mark and Nibby Bartle, and many others worked very hard to establish Molino Creek Farm, which became a legend for dry farmed tomato production. The early farmers made enough money and worked hard with piles of purchased materials to put up miles of deer fence, long stretches of irrigation, and a very good agricultural well. They bought equipment – tractors, fuel tanks, implements, generators…much of which we still rely on. These intrepid farmers taught many people how to grow dry farmed tomatoes and those people started their own businesses. The Farm was the 13th certified organic farm in California…there are hundreds now. We must thank these organic farming pioneers for showing how it’s done and inspiring others to give it a go.
Intentional Community
Other work deserving thanks is from the communal spirit and willingness of those who co-own this land. Living together in such a rural place takes work. The Farm is off grid and so produces its own power and water. We live 3.5 miles up a private road, which takes a lot of maintenance. They say people used to have to drive with chains to get up a muddy hill on the way in, and even then it wasn’t certain.
We have people who manage the finances, ‘the books,’ taxes, meeting facilitation, meeting notes, work party conveners, and so much more. Some of the group maintain the farmland, others maintain the wildlands, and others the water infrastructure. There is a legal committee, a road committee, and a neighbor committee – all very necessary. It takes great generosity to make these things work and we remain grateful to one another for the things we fit into our otherwise busy lives to help keep things together.
2020 Fire
The CZU Lightning Complex Fire devastated our farm. We lost two homes and a community garage workspace, fences, parts of our water system, many orchard trees, and much more. We put out word about what happened and an accompanying call for assistance. Within a short while, we raised $80,000 to help generally and a big portion of that to revitalize what was lost in the orchard. Such Huge Generosity!! We are still awed by that support. The financial support we received is just one indication of the strength and support of the social networks that the partners in this endeavor hold and tend.
We lost quite a few of our avocados in the 2020 fire, but they are just starting to fruit again
Land Stewardship
Since the fire, we have had amazing support for tending our land. The Prescribed Burn Association has poured support into teaching our cooperative about good fire and then leading a prescribed burn last year, reducing fuels over many acres, restoring coastal prairie. They brought people here to help and keep in touch, watching with us the effects of their management. Now CalFire is offering that same kind of help!
Neighbors
Our neighbors have always been helpful. For years, the folks at the cement plant helped keep our road in good shape, the gate secure, and even supplied us with road material, rocks, and spare cement. PG&E has chipped in lots of funding and work to keep the road repaired.
The partners with the San Vicente Redwoods have also been unendingly great to us. Roadwork and weed work, fire and fuel management, security, and so much more have all been graciously a part of their contributions. We are learning together how to take better care of our lands, the non-human beings, and each other.
Community Orchardists
For 15 years, we have enjoyed the growth of our Community Orchard. We keep in touch with 225 people on email. 5 – 20 people show up to tend the orchard on many Saturday afternoons. Even though the fire took us backward a step, 5 years later we discover the orchard has surpassed that damage and is creating more and more amazing fruit, feeding more people.
This year, we needed a tractor and the community orchard network donated funds that allowed us to buy one this past week. It is amazing how the generosity continues, born out of the relationships we build by tending a beautiful orchard, creating “Fruit for the People!”
In sum, we are very thankful. We have so much to be grateful for. Thank you, each and every one of you, for the various kinds of love and support you offer this amazing place, this greater community, which we steward together.
Soon, (the fairly dumb) Daylight Savings Time ends and the days will seem even shorter, by a quick, artificial burst. Wildlife adjusts to Fall, changing their behavioral patterns. Fruits galore – ripening of successive apples, limes hanging thick. A new solar power array materializes. The end of Molino Creek Farm farmer’s markets. The ever-greening of fields. Thunder and fog, chill and sun.
Jonagold apples are especially bright…and quite delicious!
Bursts of Rain
We’ve had two storms so far bring precipitation, but the soil is bone dry 2’ down. It hasn’t been enough rain to stop needing to irrigate. Nevertheless, in the fallow fields and meadows – the first herbs have germinated and the green blush is growing into outright blankets of verdancy.
The GreenUp has started – germination in fallow fields
Last night in the wee hours I was awakened by the rattling of the house. Thunder! Some caught great movies of lightning strikes over the Monterey Bay. The last thunder that rattled things was back in 2020 when an orchestra of timpani rolled and rolled, ‘Rolling Thunder’ went from myth to reality. So, up from bed I was forced and off to gawk out the windows to see what was up. Alas, the flashes were too rare, the thunder had moved off and the night was calm once again. No rain then but rain rumored to be forthcoming this weekend.
Between rain storms, it has been nice, even hitting 82F this past weekend. A firefighter asked me what the relative humidity has been – ugh, not Rx fire weather: 85%!
Shorter Days
We clock the shortening days through anticipation of the last light for harvesting apples for the following day’s market. We need enough daylight to sort the apples with even the tiniest blemish from the perfect ones that go to market. That moment is 6:30 this week. For those of us with day jobs, that makes for a very tight window to harvest and sort. Today, there were 11 hours of daylight: the night is surely taking over to the glee of owls and other night time predators.
Lone Fangsters
The fiercest of predators are guarding their territory and prowling alone through the lengthening nights. Long tailed weasel mating season has been over for some months: they fend for themselves, darting up to 30 miles per hour and winding slowly through the narrowest of rodent holes. Their scat is everywhere across the farm, reminding their brethren who is who and where they’ve set up shop.
Fiercer still, mountain lions are just starting to think about pairing up with the first caterwauling a few weeks back. There was a memorable pre-fire Winter Solstice where we heard 3 lion females yowling from different ridges around the farm. That seems about the normal date for that kind of behavior, and it is a ways away. Meanwhile, massive solitary male mountain lions prowl a huge area all the while worrying about running into another male, which can be fatal or at least badly injurious. They scent mark to avoid such encounters. The urine scratch marking of Big Cats has started on the trails through the dark redwood forest along Molino Creek – signs we haven’t seen for 6 years.
Bird Season
Now that their young are on their own, the chickadees, goldfinches, and Anna’s hummingbirds are also about, cruising without immediate families. Chickadees and goldfinches flock with other unpaired tribal members, though in fairly small groups around the Farm. 6 chickadees seems like the biggest flock right now, and even that’s unusual to see. Goldfinches are hanging in similarly small groups but there are many of those tea parties.
The Anna’s hummingbirds, though – anything but social: they bomb and whistle at each other fighting for territory with what little nectar can be found, mostly around home landscapes right now. Those hummers will be the first of these non-monogamous birds to nest: in January they start gathering lichens and spider webs to weave their beautiful baby-homes. Those tiny nests will in a few months glisten with raindrops and grow transplanted mosses, cradling tiny eggs and their near torpid sheltering parent. Now, these future parents aren’t associating with one another, but instead joust for food, and try to get fat on the dwindling nectar.
Deeply Social Birds
For whatever reason, our blackbird flock is extraordinarily large this year. I counted 80 birds in one tree yesterday. Another flock came in this evening to join that one – over 100 birds. Perhaps it is because we allowed cover crops to go to seed this past spring, so there’s lots of food. I dread the bird seed predation right after the planting of cover crops. This year, we opted for only bell beans for orchard cover crop – the seeds so massive as to avoid easy bird swallowing. Late germinating bell beans are welcome salad greens for a lot of birds, though.
I ponder how the blackbirds know to stop singing all at once. Their sing-song squeaky cacophony sounds a bit more melodious than a long line of train cars squeaking and screeching on ice cold rails. All of the sudden, they all stop: not one at a time, no slow lowering of the volume. How do they do that…and why?
I would be remiss under this heading to not mention the California quail. Never fear, the coveys are numerous, the birds fat and happy. What a show!
Arkansas Black – a dark apple with a bright white inside
Harvesting
The Two Dog crew returned to Molino Creek Farm to harvest their wonderfully productive tomato patch this week. At the same time, their pepper field is knee high and hanging densely with fruit. And, 2 Dog winter squash leaves are wilting revealing rafts of colorful squash.
Molino Creek Farm tomatoes, on the other hand, are mostly picked though the plants are putting on a flush of new growth after the early rains. Zucchini plants still push out yummy food. But, the season for that business is winding down – maybe only two more weeks of farmers markets to go!
The apple ripening season is just beginning to unfold. There was an unusually low amount of Gala apples and almost no Mutsu: our early varieties. So, this week we finish gathering the Galas and look to other types next. We’ll pick Jonagold apples – big, shiny, beautiful fruit and the prizewinner of our farm’s apple tasting competitions time and again. We are lucky to have a good number of those to share this season. Braeburn are close behind. But, the big amount of fruit is in the Fuji crop, which is 3 weeks away from being ripe. Will we be harvesting Fuji apples in the dark, or how will we figure out how to harvest so many of those fruit?!
Olives are hanging – December harvest?
The see-sawing of apple abundance is a result of what is called ‘alternate bearing’ syndrome. 2021 – post fire season, nothing much to harvest, then 2022 big year…2023 little year…2024 epic year…2025 little year. The way around this is to thin, thin, thin – and clip off fruiting spurs and so forth to make harvest more steady. Let’s hope we can keep up with thinning next spring – a crucial year to break this cycle.
Granny Smith – the quintessential winter apple….not ripe for months yet!
Limes!
The Persian lime crop hangs heavy – what an abundance we will have if this all works out. We are frequently told that our limes are the best on Earth, and we agree. Someone wanted to see if we could pick them now, while they are green, to provide people with what they expect to be limes. So, off we went to squeeze and test and try to find a green Persian lime worth selling. Sample number 3- the squishiest green limes we could find and the results…NO! No juice! The vesicles, or ‘juice sacks,’ just haven’t matured: they were pungent, poppy and quite void of juice. So, we’ll have to keep explaining to folks that the yellow citrus are the best limes in the world. We’ll have about 500 pounds of them this year to share…in February – March, or thereabouts.
Persian limes are getting HEAVY
So, the shortening days doesn’t mean the end of the harvest. Nay, the harvest for our tree crops is just beginning!
While the nights are clear – get you outside to a dark area and enjoy the night time sky. We are marveling in the big, clear Milky Way from Molino Creek Farm these long, dark nights.
High in the canopy…Bacon avocados for a year from now!
“Here comes The Rain!” they said, and it poured. Scuttling long tomato harvest hours, for many days, rescuing the fruit. Waves of warmth before the chilly precipitation. Then, the wind. Ravenous deer. Big colorful sunsets.
Another magnificent sunset at Molino Creek Farm
Deluge
Stepping out of the shower, there was this massive rumbling noise from outside. Breathing deep to combat a visceral fear growing: “What IS that sound?” Brain grabs an idea: Is that a low flying big aircraft? “No, that’s not it.” I recall the adage that tornadoes sound like freight trains. It has been years since my teenage Georgia experiences with twisters close at hand. I forget the noise. A quick round of glancing out of every window, every direction: no sickly gray-green sky, no breaking tree branches…probably not a tornado. But, it is raining so hard the roof is rumbling. Blustery but not extreme, the windows rattle and bow. The air could hold no more water. The surface of every bit of flat-ish soil was everywhere a deep liquid sheen where a rough moist surface had been moments before. Rivulets feed deep moving pools carrying rafts of debris. Luckily, it lasted only a few minutes; otherwise, it would have been a major disaster. Scary.
In a few hours, the world transformed. Gone is the dust of the long, dry summer. The Fear of Fire evaporates: we are given reprieve.
Coyote Bush Female Plant About to Burst with Seed (to the wind!)
Germination
This was the Germinating Rain, an unusual phenomenon of Mediterranean California. Billions of seeds scattered at the onset of the drying tawny summer and buried by crisp dead thatch are now sprouting, turning the brown landscape to green. The verdancy blushes at first, so subtle as to make you doubt your eyes: you must look closely. It will be February before the prairies are so green as to make your eyes hurt. It takes time for the new growth to overtop the skeletons of last year’s plants.
The farmers never gave up weeding. They were at it as recently as last week. Now, they will be overwhelmed by the flush of seedlings stimulated by the rain. But the harvest is nearly over and the moist ground is better prepared for planting the Winter cover crop. There will be more purposeful germination in the dark brown, fluffy richly scented soil for the next couple of months.
A raft of radish weed seedlings has germinated in this tomato field
Fall is Here
The subtle signs of Fall are arriving. Black walnut leaves rapidly yellow. Willows, too, turn paler hues. But the most profound change is in the bracken: vast patches of hillside fronds have withered to their signature brown. The rain moistens those leaves and scents their vicinity with sweet straw bitterness.
Bracken fern fall
Turkey Tales
As Thanksgiving approaches, one would assume that the wise wild turkey would know something untoward is approaching. The scent of their roasting flesh will waft across the landscape right on schedule and they can’t have missed that for generations. Is that why they’ve become so scarce?
Then again there was the horrid sound, the screaming alarms and furtive loud complaints from the woodland two weeks ago. I took a walk in the newly moist world today down toward the forest via the Camp Road, towards the creek – yonder the way of the terrible turkey noise. No sign of problems. Not a turkey feather askew. On return, as if to bolster the ‘something’s not right’ sense: a single (male?) turkey takes a thunderous flight from one branch to another in the high-up redwood canopy. Where did the other 5 of that one’s friends go?! We wait and watch to see how this story unfolds and miss the flock which had so regularly meandered across our farm.
Two Dog Really Truly Dry Farmed Winter Squash
Sunsets and Fruit Picking
The stormy weather has produced the most remarkable sunsets, lighting the evening as the harvest winds down. As the predicted First Storm approached, every person possible took to the vines buckets in hand to pick as many tomatoes as possible. Rains can easily ruin the crop. Water starved plants, dry farmed tomato vines in particular, faced with sudden abundant moisture soak up so much that the fruit bursts. Stems and leaves suddenly moist are excellent surfaces for a rain of bacteria and fungi eager to devour cells. Melt down is commencing. As Judy says, we are lucky if the crop can last until Thanksgiving. It is a rare year when that happens. The trade off with beneficial end of Fire Season is the unfortunate commencement of the end of the tomatoes.
Meanwhile, in the orchard there is another kind of harvest underway, a harvest unaffected (we hope!) by the onset of rains: apples! It always takes such patience to await the ripening of apples, but the small harvest of the early ones (Gala) emphasizes the wait for those to come. Plus, there are no mutsu apples this year, so the next in line are Braeburn…still a ways off, but the taste of the first ones…with overtones of citrus and tropical fruit…make us excited. And the size of the Fuji crop is oh-such-a-bonanza.
Braeburn apples are slowly ripening
Onward we go…soon to the mowing and onto the harrowing-in of cover crop seeds.
The Peninsula Open Space Trust (POST) recently published an article about a 2023 regional trail user survey. The author of the article, Zionne Fox, wrote about some of the results of the study, and her writing helps gain new insights into POST’s philosophy regarding recreational use in natural areas.
Summary of the Article
Ms. Fox’s “blog,” published on August 28, 2025, announced the findings of a ‘unique’ regional study by the Santa Cruz Mountains Stewardship Network that had purported to assess parks trail user expectations. Fox reports the percentages of different user groups (equestrians, dog walkers, hikers, mountain bikers) that want more trails. She also notes that non-white respondents were statistically under represented. The article suggests (without supporting data) that demand for trails is growing and that ‘open space operators need practices that can meet rising visitor expectations while preserving natural habitat.’ There was also mention about many equestrians hailing from Santa Cruz County and (again, unsubstantiated) a need for additional accommodation for multi-day trail trips.
Reporting Issues
The POST article fails in many ways to meet the standards of responsible reporting, but that is predictable given the organization’s overall tendencies. First, note that the study referenced isn’t, as the author claims, ‘unique,’ at all: another, more professional study covering much the same material was published not that long ago. Also, notice that there is no link in the article to a report about the results of the survey. With further research I find that the survey authors, the Santa Cruz Mountains Stewardship Network, lacks a link to any reporting on the survey results on its website. Without more details about survey methodology, statistical analysis, and results it is difficult to draw one’s own conclusions.
Moreover, the article emphasizes only the survey results which correlate most with POST’s own goal of increased recreational use of ‘open space’ lands. For instance, statistics are provided for apparent unmet needs from various recreational groups, but similar statistics are not presented about the degree of concern for natural resource conservation, which is at odds with increased recreational use. In fact, in the ‘What’s Next’ portion of the article, there is no mention of POST’s or any other ‘open space operator’s’ intention to address survey respondents’ concerns about conserving and nurturing natural resources which suffer from over visitation. Similarly, POST suggests that those operators should focus on ‘preserving natural habitat,’ which curiously avoids the more concrete and pressing issue of conserving the specific species that are sensitive to natural areas recreational use. Habitat preservation is nearly meaningless to measure, whereas species conservation is much more useful and quantifiable, with a richer history of scientific rigor in informing open space management.
Note that the author of this article fails to mention any results from the portion of the survey asking about trail user’s negative experiences in open space areas. The survey asked poignant questions about negative interactions with dogs, people biking, shared trail use with other users, etc. Such conflicts are expected and are a challenge that trained park managers are used to addressing; unfortunately POST lacks staff with such expertise, so it is understandable that the author would avoid mention of this portion of the survey, which would otherwise reflect poorly on her organization.
The reporting insufficiencies and biases should not be surprising to those who follow POST. This is an organization focused on increased recreational use at the expense of species conservation. For instance, while on one hand cheerleading for the National Monument designation of Cotoni Coast Dairies, POST refused to sign onto a letter advocating that the designation include specific protections for natural resources. Peruse the organization’s website and you’ll find that species conservation is de-emphasized as opposed to an over-emphasis of recreational use of natural areas, which negatively affects nature. While being the best funded private organization working on open space issues in the Bay Area, POST has apparently never hired staff or engaged contractors that are professionals at managing visitor use in such a way that demonstrably protects the very species that require POST’s natural areas to survive. POST has published no reports or plans to address these concerns, at least none that are available to the public.
Methodological Issues
On its face value, the survey issued by the Santa Cruz Mountains Stewardship Network lacked the rigor to make the kinds of conclusions that POST suggests would be valuable. As opposed to previous, more rigorous studies the survey failed to sample the breadth of the population with interests in open space areas. POST notes that proportions of respondent self-reported ‘race’ did not reflect the population as a whole, but failed to note how the survey may have also biased certain user groups over others (mountain bikers vs. hikers, etc).
One would expect to encounter survey bias given the mode of delivery. The survey was a web-based survey distributed by social media networks. Open space organizations have recently become increasingly aligned with a vocal minority: well-funded mountain biking advocacy groups who undoubtedly circulated the survey in order to impact the results. Other trail user groups may have been under-represented because they have little exposure to those particular social media networks or because they lacked the computer technology to respond.
Cautionary Conclusions
We can learn valuable lessons from POST’s reporting on this trail user survey. Given the power of POST, we should continue to be vigilant about the group’s propensity to favor increased recreational use of open space lands at the cost of species conservation. This bias should make us question the organization’s ability to manage funding tied to protection of public trust resources. POST is a donor-funded organization, and so some degree of pressure from donors could help to steer the organization more towards conservation. We should also recognize that POST is not alone in making these types of mistakes. It appears that the Santa Cruz Mountains Stewardship Network is also allied with such thinking, and we have seen other conservation lands managers approaching open space management with similarly unbalanced methodologies. These trends must be reversed if we are to conserve the many species of wildlife which are sensitive to poorly managed recreational use in our parks.
As time passes and we stay alert to the possibilities, we will see if the poorly executed SCMSN trails user survey results are used to justify or rationalize actions by POST or other members in their network: wouldn’t it be a shame if they were?
-this post originally published in my column for BrattonOnline.com – a weekly blog with movie reviews and posts by very interesting people on matters near and far. I recommend subscribing to it and donating so we can continue this long tradition.
Behold, the peak of ripe, sweet, delicious dry-farmed tomatoes. The best in the world at the peak of the season, which will wind down soon. Lots of people are canning, drying…putting up food as the harvest rolls in, a bounty beyond any other season. Jays and acorn woodpeckers, too, rushing about, storing food like so many others.
A Ripe Molino Creek Farm Tomato: YUM!
Harvest
Tomato farmers can barely keep up, and people are buying. There are three particular crunches in the season: planting, weeding, and harvest. Each has its particularly critical moment interspersed not so much with ‘what do we do’ but more ‘how many people are necessary’ to do the work. The crunch times require more people than the weeks between, making it difficult for labor management and economics for small farms.
Soon, the Community Orchard will face that final crunch. It seems to be a year like the last one when all varieties get ripe simultaneously. Gala apples are suddenly all ripe at once and the Braeburn and Jonagolds aren’t far behind. Luckily, the Fujis are going to wait a bit…and they are the biggest crop this year. It is a scratch year for the Mutsu variety for some reason. There are ten other varieties with one tree each that will get ripe in about 2 weeks. So, we’ll start preparing for a cider pressing gathering to process 1,000 pounds of apples in 2-3 weeks.
Two Dog Farm’s pepper field is lush and green with abundant fattening fruit. Their winter squash patch is still luxuriant and green with hundreds of butternut squash peeking through the leaves. Their Chardonnay grapes are getting honey-green and close to ripe…all ~2,000 pounds.
Wild Life
Baby owl begging, distant coyotes singing, a mountain lion caterwauling, masses of quail, a morning garter snake, bright-eyed deer herds, and many, many ground squirrels.
Every now and then one of the baby birds strikes up a unique racket; this time, it is a baby great horned owl…begging. The begging goes all night long and it is loud and obnoxious. I suppose if you are the Queen of the Sky, you can make that kind of racket and not fear getting eaten. With no other baby around to mimic, a single young owl can pick whatever obnoxious voice to really bother its parents. This one ended up being half way to a barn owl screech, but louder. Mom and Dad owl hardly bother to hoot as the baby steals the show. You’d think it would get hoarse.
Sylvie reports a mountain lion caterwaul – that’s new since before the 2020 fire! Celebrations!!! Welcome back lion momma.
There are streams and rivers of quail pouring out of the brush to peck-peck-peck at masses of seeds strewn everywhere on the ground. They are fat with glossy plumage. It has been a good quail year.
Open the front door first thing and there’s a 2.5 foot long garter snake on the stoop. What luck. First snake in a long while. The other moist morning or late evening snake to see is the (common here) rubber boa…haven’t seen that one for a month.
There are a record number of deer hanging out on the farm. Deer highways pound grass flat and expose soil along hoof-rutted trails. Piles of fertile deer poop litter the ground every few feet on the north-facing grassy slopes where they graze on a mix of grass and resprouting shrubs. At night, flashlight beams illuminate more than a dozen pairs of eyes on that slope. Walking down the road to turn off evening irrigation sessions, my heart races to be too near to huge antlered bucks; hoping not to antagonize one: they seem feisty.
A flock of 60 blackbirds has gathered on the farm, a mix of Brewer’s and bicolored, singing their complex anarchistic melodies from atop bare-branched fire killed trees and then flying like wind-scattered fall leaves down into the fallow fields to feast on seeds. Their song lights up every hour of every day, a chorus that will entertain us through the winter. Their rhythm section has squeaky peeps that nearly match the repetitive, constant, mechanical ‘Chip! of ground squirrels scattered far across the Farm- between the two species it approaches cacophony.
A skein of 50 honking, white-fronted geese in a huge V flew West to East high above the Farm at 4:30 this evening.
Bills Open: Nuts!
Jay cries are muffled, acorn caps scattered. It is peak acorn season and the jays hardly have time to taunt. Their heads are down, shoulders hunched, beaks pried open carrying fat ripe green shiny acorns to-and-fro. Don’t watch them when they try to bury the nuts – they’ll get mad, pick back up the nut and fly to somewhere where you aren’t watching. They suspiciously glance about, quickly poking each nut into a hole, making a quick swipe to cover it up and it’s onto another one. Back-and-forth over and over: busy days! We are pleased that they are distracted from eating apples, leaving the fruit destruction mostly to yellow jacket wasps now.
Dahlias are a long-time specialty of Judy Low
Land Tending
Our great gratitude to one generous guy- Matthew Todd has finished his mastication work for us this year: 4 acres of brush ground to small pieces! We needed to do something about the weeds and he offered to help for a great big discount that made it possible. He resonates with our mission to keep our hillsides wild and native and tending back to coastal prairie and so he wanted to help. His wonderful skill and powerful machine took care of jubata grass, radiata pine, and French broom, which had proliferated after the 2020 fire. Now we have a better chance of tackling those scourges with other tools – excavators, pulaskis, burn piles, and broadcast burns will join a several year mastication project to reduce the broom until we can get livestock to help manage the restoration areas. Thanks, Matthew!
We’ll collect a bunch of grass and wildflower seed this next spring to hurry the restoration along.
Hoping CalFire will be able to help this Fall with another prescribed burn.
Grey Hayes 