Páásal: Pitóó qáy háx ʻóʼnaqa páásal.

Chia: Nowadays no on knows of páásal.

Popúsh posúnnga kííkat mííq.

Its seeds are small.

—Luiseño elder Villiana Calac Hyde

laurel sumac_náqwut

In The Island Within, anthropologist Richard

Nelson describes his long engagement with an

island off the coast of Washington. Nelsonʼs

book, however, is not a travel guide but a

“stay-at-home guide.”

He writes to remind us that our own special

island is not necessarily an exotic locale, but

rather the habitat right outside our front and

back doors.

Rhus laurina

sycamore_$ivééla

As we become intimate with our special island

in San Diego County, for instance, we might

anticipate the sound of mourning doves at

dawn, or know that a bevy of quail will dis-

perse as we walk a particular path, or recog-

nize that the leaves crunching beneath our

feet are native sycamores.

Yucca whipplei

mixéʼwut

live oak_wiʼáá$aleee

Itʼs not so much whether the place we love, or

learn to love, is oak woodlands or chaparral,

mountain or coastal, but that we become an

intimate of that place. Then the land will begin

to dwell inside us, as well as surround us. The

land will inhabit us, as we inhabit the land.

yucca_panááʼal

Three of our stay-at-home guides—Diania

Caudell, Teeter Romero and Abe Sanchez—

take us on a field trip in the San Diego back

country to learn about native plants and to

harvest two traditional basketry plants, Juncus

textilis, also known as wiregrass, and Yucca

whipplei, known simply as yucca.

pa

ná

á’a

l

Yucca whipplei

indian lettuce_towish popaʼkwa

As we walk above the streambed, we stop

to taste the succulent leaves and flowers of

towish popaʼkwa, or Indian lettuce, also

known as minerʼs lettuce.

tow

ish

popa’k

wa

mustard__towish popaʼkwa

The stand of wild lettuce is surrounded by mus-

tard, an invasive plant. In California, mustard

seeds were first broadcast by Franciscan friars

so that travelers would see a yellow glow and

know they were getting close to the missions.

“It was more than a year since he had trod this path, and . . . he found it growing fainter and fainter, and more and more overgrown with the wild mustard. . . . As he proceeded he found the mustard thick-er and thicker. . . .The plant is a tyrant and a nuisance . . . it takes riotous possession of a whole field in a season . . . for one plant this year, a million the next . . . .” —Father Salvierderra in Ramona

monkeyflower

We stop to photograph the bright orange

monkeyflowers, floral magnets for humming-

birds, bees and butterflies. Our guides point

out that the stems and leaves of monkeyflow-

ers are edible and can be eaten as greens.

Native people ate the stems and leaves of

California poppies, lupine, and Indian paint-

brush as well.

tíshmal

blue dicks_tóókapish

Now weʼre on our knees, as if in communal

prayer, eye-level with the blue dicks. On sinu-

ous stems, the flower heads sway gracefully

even in the slightest wind. The women in the

group take a special pleasure in saying that

weʼre photographing blue dicks.

tóókapish

Dichelostemma capitatum

indian potatoes_tóókapish

Teeter says we can eat the nutritous and tasty

bulbs bulbs, once an important food source

for Luiseño and other California Indians. They

used digging sticks, often made of a hard

wood such as mountain mahogany, to dig up

the bulbs. Blue dicks are also known as grass-

nuts, wild hyacinth, or Indian potatoes.

Dichelostemma capitatumqawííʼalwut

purple phacelia_sikimona

Next, we stop to photograph a large stand of

the velvety purple phacelia, another beautiful

native wildflower. Like other native wildflow-

ers, the stems and leaves can be eaten for

greens.

Phacelia parryi

rattlesnake weed_lawálxwash

On field trips to photograph wildflowers, we

often find the best photo opportunities are on

our knees. Weʼre on the ground again, this

time photographing the tiny lace-like flowers

of the rattlesnake weed. The pulverized leaves

of this prostrate little plant, according to our

guides, are reputed to be an antidote for

rattlesnake bites. We all take note.

laxwálx

wash

wild cucumber_ʼénwish

As we continue on our walk, Abe points out

a wild cucumber vine and tells us the large

shiny black seeds were pulverized and used

as a oily medium for paint pigment for ancient

rock paintings. The seeds were strung together

to make necklaces as well. This year after the

rains, the wild cucumber is prolific, twining

under and over everything.

‘énw

ish

Marah macrocarpus

waxáwkila

lupine

Is that lupine?

Yes! No! Yes! No!

Yes! Look at the leaves.

coyote_ʼanóóyi

We stop to examine coyote scat. Abe points

out the rodent fur in the scat. He tells us how

to distinguish coyote scat from dog scat. A

student photographs the scat.

wild lilac

We photograph a wild lilac, or soap bush, in

bloom. Abe tells us we can stir the tiny blue

flowers in water to make a shampoo to wash

our hair.

Ceanothus

manzanita_múúkul

We pass a manzanita, and he tells us we can

harvest and smash the berries when they ripen

in the summer to make a refreshing drink.

Coyotes relish the berries as much as indig-

enous people did, Abe tells us. In late summer,

he predicts, weʼll see plenty of manzanita ber-

ries, as well as fur, in coyote scat.

Arctostaphylos glauca

manzanita cider 1. scald a quart of berries with a cup of boiling water 2. mash to a pulp 3. allow to settle for an hour 4. strain 5. sweeten to taste

farewell-to-spring

Look at that! Whatʼs that!

Wow! That is beautiful! Look at that!

On my god! Those are gorgeous!

No one has any idea what the gorgeous

violet-flecked wildflowers are.

Later, we look them up: the elegiacally

named farewell-to-spring, Clarkia bottae.

skunkbush_$óóval

We learn to distinguish between poison oak

and rhus trilobata, an important basketry

plant. “Rhus trilobata has smaller leaves and

a strong smell,” Abe tells us. “Thatʼs why itʼs

also called skunkbush.” He sniffs a few leaves.

“Nope, this is definitely poison oak.”

When poison oak is in bloom, its flow-

ers are white. Rhus trilobataʼs are

yellow. We all know itʼs important

to

remember the difference.

rhus trilobatapoison oak

ʻiyáála $óóval ʻánkish mííqPoison oak like squaw bush.

yucca_panááʼal

Teeter points out the yucca plant, also known

as “Spanish bayonet” or “our Lordʼs candle.”

She climbs the embankment and demonstrates

how to harvest the inner core of yucca leaves

by carefully twisting and pulling them out.

After drying the leaves, she will use them to

begin her baskets.

pa

ná

á’a

l

Yucca whipplei

chia_páásal

We spot a small stand of chia on the hillside.

Abe, Teeter and Diania are very excited—

stands of chia are rare in the wild, especially

after a drought. The unrestrained enthusiasm

of our field guides is contagious. Following

Abeʼs lead, we put down our cameras and

help pull out the invasive mustard plants that

surround the chia stand.

Salvia columbariae

chia_páásal

The high-protein chia was one of the primary

staples of indigenous people in Southern

California. Chia, as well as the seeds of white,

black, and thistle sage, may have been more

abundant and important as a food source for

Luiseño people than acorns.

Today, the chia is in blossom, its seeds not yet

ready for harvesting.

Weʼll be back, chia-devotee Abe says.

Salvia columbariaechia seeds ready for harvesting

willow

When Abe, Diania, and Teeter return, theyʼll

bring their seedbeaters, special basket tools

used to harvest the chia seeds. Seedbeaters

are woven from plants such as redbud, choke-

cherry, and willow.

elderberry_kúúta

We pass an elderberry just beginning to

bloom. Diania instructs us how to use the

elderberry blossoms to make a powerful tea

which will break a fever, fight the flu or a

virus. First dry the blossoms, she tells us, shake

out any bugs, remove any bitter green parts,

and then steep the blossoms in hot water.

Sambucus mexicana

Polóóv téngalish. It is good medicine.

elderberry_kúúta

Elderberry, one of the most sacred Luiseño

plants used in blessing ceremonies, is also one

of the most versatile. Luiseños ate the tasty

blue berries and made a poultice of the leaves

for sprains and itches. They also used small

branches to make bows and larger ones to

make flutes and clapper sticks.

Píʼ popúsh ʻííq polóóv, ʻáxaat mííq. Its fruit is also good, and delicious.

toyon_ʼááchawut

We stop to photograph a toyon, its bright red

berries so popular with native birds that the

plant is also known as an “aviary on a stick.”

But itʼs spring, and the berries donʼt ripen until

late fall. Toyon berries are really bitter tasting

to humans, Diania tells us, so the berries were

parched to make a cider.

‘ááchaw

ut

Heteromeles arbutifolia

wild cherries_cháámish

Ceonothus shampoo. Currants. Yucca blos-

soms. Chia seeds. Minerʼs lettuce. Manzanita

berries. Elderberries. Toyon berries. Wild

cherries. Teeter jokes and tells us weʼre ready

for Survivor.

Prunus ilicifolia

ʻAtááxum pitóówill ponéy cháámish usarwun.People still use the wild cherry.

yerba santa_pálwut

One of our group comments that where she

once saw brush by the side of the road, she

now sees a cornucopia of edible and medici-

nal bulbs, buds, berries, roots, tubers, corms,

greens, and seeds.

Eriodictyon crassifolium

jimson weed_sacred datura_náqtumutal

All of us are beginning to understand how

profoundly it is the plants that make Luiseño

culture possible—as food, medicine, fiber,

cordage, clothing, tools, shelter, fuel, weap-

ons, musical instruments, sacraments, and

ceremony.

Datura was used as a sacrament in boysʼ puberty

rituals.

poison oak_ʼiyáála

When Abe finally descends the stream bank

to harvest the juncus, we must decide whether

to follow our fearless leader through a poison

oak thicket, or to follow the more cautious

Diania and Teeter down the hill. As someone

well as someone well acquainted with poison

oak rash, I encourage caution.

Toxicodendron diversilobum

mugwort_pakoshish

Some of our group are worried. Our guides

point out that the riparian mugwort is an in-

digenous remedy for poison oak. We pick the

mugwort, smell the pungent leaves, then rub

them on our face, hands and arms. We put

the leaves in our pockets, jot down the Luiseño

name, pakoshish, sketch and photograph the

plant for future reference.

poison oak_ʼiyáála

“I hate poison oak,” Abe tells us. “But youʼve

got to respect it. Youʼve got to respect it.”

yerba mansa_chévnish

“Take a warm shower when you get home,”

Diania advises. Use lots and lots of soap.

According to Kumeyaay elder Jane Dumas,

the best soap to wash with after trekking

through poison oak is made from yerba

mansa, an important medicinal native plant.

Píʼ potówla póʼ polóóv. Its root is good.

Anemopsis californica

An infusion brewed from the roots is

used as an ointment for cuts, bruises and sores. A poultice is

made from the leaves to reduce swelling.

canyon pea_ʻaxá$mal

Weʼre still busy memorizing the mugwort,

but our field guides are already pointing out

other companion plants—willow, mule fat, and

canyon pea.

Póʼ yawáywish mííq. Itʼs beautiful.

juncus_$óyla

Abe comments on the ease with which he

pulls up the juncus stalks. It rained recently

and ground is still soft and the plants pliant.

Heʼs really excited by the coloration he finds

at the base of the stalk. “This is a very good

brown,” Abe tells us. “We use this dark seg-

ment of the juncus for color in our baskets.

click image for video

juncus_$óyla

Our three guides are passionate about native

plants and love nothing more than to wander

the back roads of Southern California hunting

for basketry materials. Teeter tells us that if we

plan to go juncus-gathering with Diania, weʼd

better have some money, a jacket, and a full

tank of gas, because we wonʼt come home

until the tankʼs empty and the moneyʼs gone.

juncus_$óyla

As Abe, Teeter, and Diania harvest the jun-

cus, they speak to us of the difficulty in finding

traditional basketry plants—seasonal streams

where juncus stands once proliferated are

cemented over or inaccessible because of

the dense overgrowth of invasive non-native

plants. The juncus might be sprayed with herbi-

cides to eliminate the poison oak.

juncus_$óyla

We learn of their lack of access to places on

private property where juncus does grow, as

well as the special arrangements they make

with various government agencies to harvest

this traditional plant.

juncus_$óyla

When we finally climb back up the stream

bank to the road, our guides carry their

bundles of juncus on their shoulders.

Juncus textilisvv

basket woven by Abe Sanchez juncus, deergrass, and rhus trilobata

chaparral nightshade

Walking back to our cars, we comment that

our guides are sophisticated observers, alert

to the nuances and details in the landscape we

would otherwise easily overlook.

california sagebrush_húlvul

Abe, Diania, and Teeterʼs detailed and precise

observations help to nurture in us an enhanced

intellectual and emotional engagement with

our surroundings.

This emotional engagement is as important

as an intellectual one, helping us cultivate our

hearts, and noses, as well as our minds.

Póʼ polóóv téngalish Thatʼs good medicine.

Artemisia californicac ph

oto:

cher

yl e

ng

toyon_ʼááchawut

Our guides offer us a deeper awareness and

more comprehensive experience of the habi-

tats that sustain us. They also offer us a breath-

taking vision of what our Southern California

landscape could be—a buzzing, singing, howl-

ing place, full of foods, fragrances, medicines—

as well as textile and basketry materials.

Heteromeles arbutifoliabasket hat woven by Abe Sanchez: juncus, deergrass, rhus trilobata

white sage

On our field trip, we comprehend how Abe,

Teeter, and Dianiaʼs lives are intricately and

intimately woven into the landscape. We have

witnessed their profound respect for the land,

their complex ecological knowledge of the

region, their gratitude for the generosity of the

natural world, and their spiritual beliefs that

sustain them in the face of relentless develop-

ment and ravaged habitats.

Salvia apiana

phacelia

What transpired on our field trip could not

have happened in a classroom or in a comput-

er lab—the exuberant fragrance of black sage,

the succulent taste of Indian lettuce leaves, the

velvety texture of yerba santa, the subtle shift-

ing of the light, the translucency of phacelia

leaves at the end of the day.

This was not a virtual experience.

Phacelia parryi

Páásal: Pitóó qáy háx ʻóʼnaqa páásal.

Chia: Nowadays no on knows of páásal.

Popúsh posúnnga kííkat mííq.

Its seeds are small.

—Luiseño elder Villiana Calac Hyde