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
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