An autumn walk

“When one walks, one is brought into touch first of all with ... essential relations.”

-- Aleister Crowley

“Christmas is coming, the geese are getting fat.”

-- Beggar’s rhyme

The beach at Crystal Cove has long been a favorite of mine, a magical walk that gives me great pleasure to share with Catharine (who first introduced me to one of her special hideaways), our sons, Cooper and Austin, and close friends. I generally prefer company, so it felt strange to find myself walking alone past the distinctive, weather-beaten bungalows, unaccompanied save for a few joggers, seabirds and my scattered thoughts.

I waded through the shore break, allowing the chilly water to reach my hips. Bands of straw-colored seaweed wrapped around my legs, and I could feel countless grains of sand swirling past me. Even on a cloudy, cool afternoon, I felt invigorated and fulfilled.

This stretch of beach is a never-ending source of activity during autumn -- sail boats, seagulls and migrating California gray whales are atop my list of favorite sights. On this particular day, I could even tolerate the whine of distant jet skiers.

The rugged cliffs that separate the beach from the intrusions of the highway seem dry and taciturn at first glance. If one takes the time to study them a bit more carefully, the plants that cling tenaciously to the rocky face form a community. They protect the thin layer of soil from erosion and provide a safe haven and food source for small mammals, birds and insects.

Although just a few meters from human habitation, this beach environment is harsh and forbidding. Only a few species can tolerate the combination of wind, sand, salt and scarcity of water and call it home. Imagine yourself living at the seashore indefinitely without shelter, food and water.

The grayish foliage of salt bush (Atriplex spp.) is the most common member of our Crystal Cove plant community. It will grow where less hardy plants stand no chance of surviving. Physiologically adapted to tolerate high levels of salinity and alkalinity, it will even grow in the sand.

The showy white, bell-shaped flowers of jimson weed (Datura spp.) contrast sharply with its drab surroundings. The dry cliffs are a preferred locale for this hardy species. Watch out for this one, it is poisonous.

St. Catharine’s lace (named for my beautiful wife) is a native buckwheat (Eriogonum giganteum) from the islands of Santa Catalina and San Clemente. It has migrated down to Crystal Cove Beach. Its needle-like leaves fight off the extreme environmental conditions, and its roots hold on tenaciously to the soil. Its pinkish-white flowers are a welcome source of food with a number of pollinating insects.

The yellow flowers of scotch broom (Cytisus spp.) are easily recognizable as members of the pea family. Exotics that have ventured from home landscapes, they are another important source of food for birds and insects.

Castor bean (Ricinus communis) seems out of place by the beach, but it is tough enough to naturalize itself along my walk. Commonly found in extreme conditions throughout Laguna Beach, it has also happily migrated down to the beach.

The last few weeks have been personally challenging, a time of contemplation and self-examination. The walk along the beach was a safe place to question myself about love, life and the future. In the end, I believe we must hold tight to the ones we love, while affirming our pursuit of personal happiness. See you next time.

* Steve Kawaratani can be reached at 949.497.2438 or plantman2@mac.com.

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