It's 66˚F outside at 2:30 pm on a January day. The sky is clear, the day is beautiful. Our mid-winter in southern California is mild and lovely.
Unfortunately, people have difficulty seeing incremental local climate changes if those changes do not have a concrete negative impact on themselves. In addition, most people who have relocated to Los Angeles from places with snowy or harsh winters do not even notice our subtle seasons.
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| toyon berries, 1/15/15 |
Today however I came face-to-face with an impact from drought and climate change that is having a direct impact on my neighbors and their migratory relatives. The toyon or California holly should be filled with red berries (what toyon should look like in December/January). Because of the drought the two bushes in the front of the house did not fruit at all this year and the toyon at the top of the hill has fruit that look like this...small and unripe.
The northern mockingbird that only occasionally visits our yard was here this morning hunting for fruit, it found none. The hermit thrush who visits annually was also searching for toyon fruit. Unlike the mockingbird, it has come here from the north to spend the winter in a location that should offer winter fruit. Both are having to supplement their diets with more insects.
High in the eucalyptus tree the mewing cries of a small flock of cedar waxwings caught my attention. Twenty-seven of these fruit-eating birds sat pondering their next move. They too were here looking for the toyon berries that they expected to find on our hillside. When they found nothing, they went hungry. They regathered and flew on.
For these birds, drought means smaller, less nutritious food. But subtle changes in our climate are also altering when the fruit ripens. Imagine driving across the Mojave desert with the plan to stop at that favorite restaurant only to find that the town is closed up and the next place to find food is 100s of miles away.
Subtle changes in our local climate are impacting wild species that are tied to the fruiting or flowering of specific plants. We need to increase our awareness.
There are signs of autumn all around. The leaves of the peach tree are daily turning red and golden.
The toyon fruit (aka California holly) is turning red and attracting the attention of the hungry hermit thrush.
But the on-again, off-again autumn weather is making someone grumpy. The angle of the sunlight signals autumn–time to hibernate–but the warm days keep tempting the desert tortoise to stay up.
As you can tell from the photo, this guy is not asleep. His son, has gone in for the winter. Typically, the old guy is in by mid-October, but this year he can't seem to commit to hibernation. He comes out, sits in the sun, takes a few bites of food then grumbles back into his den. Today he stuck his head out and immediately turned around.
He wants to be asleep, but the warm weather is confusing. Some of the migrating birds have been off in their annual cycles as well. For this desert tortoise who has been in captivity, since the mid-1970s, fluctuating climate is an irritation, but for desert tortoises in the wild there can be serious consequences. If they miss time hibernation, they can get caught away from a protective den when the weather does turn cold. They could use up food reserves before they hibernate.
They do not digest food well without basking in the sun and having hot temperatures. They need to stop eating and completely digest what is in their stomachs before going into a deep sleep. Undigested food in their system can rot while they are hibernating, causing them problems. When tortoises awaken in the spring they have expectations of flowering plants and new greenery that they depend on to replenish themselves after months of not eating or drinking. Changing climate can impact all of the timing in this delicate dance making survival even more of a challenge for wild tortoises.
This grumpy guy has us as caretakers to make sure he has food and vitamin supplements. Wild desert tortoises are on their own. Tortoises around the world need our help. They are important members of their ecosystems and all too frequently they are taken out of the wild, both to their detriment and that of the other plants and animals that depend on them.
Tortoises in Turkey
I recommend book Life in a Shell
If you need evidence that Southern California has received less rain than normal, all you have to do is look at the plants.
Toyon (Heteromeles arbutifolia) is a native shrub in our chaparral. The dark green, toothed leaves and red berries in winter resemble holly. Newcomers to southern California called it California holly. "Hollywoodland," the name a real estate developer first used to market homes built into the foothills northwest of Los Angeles, refers to the red-berried toyon plants that were on the hillsides. When the letters spelling "land" fell down what remained was the "Hollywood" sign.
This year the toyon is demonstrating just how little rain has been available to the natural habitat. Consider these two photos of toyon.
This photo with plump red berries is of a plant that receives biweekly irrigation year-round.
This photo is of a plant that is dependent on natural rainfall. The berries are small and have not ripened.
In 2010, this same bush flourished.
Migrating birds like cedar waxwings, American robins and hermit thrushes as well as our local year-round residents like the northern mockingbird, depend on the toyon's fruit during the winter. When our rainfall stays at an annual 12-14 inches, food resources for local and migrating wildlife is reduced.
While this is an average normal amount of rainfall, the key here is "average." Our Mediterranean climate requires years of flood mixed with years of drought for plants to really thrive.
See the last time we really had flood precipitation.
Still the toyon is hardy. It survives frost and it will survive our low rainfall, but the animals that depend on its fruit will have a more difficult time.
There is a special reward for planting native plants: watching habitat being restored in front of your eyes.
Five years ago I planted a 3 gallon toyon (Heteromeles arbutifolia). It started out just 2 foot tall. Today it is about 8 foot tall. The dark green leaves are prickly and in late autumn its berries ripen to a brilliant red. It's no wonder European immigrants to California were reminded of holly and called it "California holly" or "Christmas berry."
In fact this is the holly that gave the name to "Hollywoodland" and therefore Hollywood. (Decorating with toyon)
The native Chumash, Ohlone and other coastal peoples in California roasted or dried the berries and ate them. They also used the strong, rot-resistant wood for a variety of implements and ceremonial markers. But people weren't the only species that depended on the toyon. Numerous animals eat the berries as well, rodents, foxes (including the endangered island fox), probably the extinct southwestern grizzly bear did as well. A wide range of birds also look for this easy-to-spot, chaparral delicacy.
Sunday morning I watched the hermit thrush picking one red berry at a time and swallowing it down. A hermit thrush has been coming to my yard every winter for the last seven years. I believe it is the same bird, but I don't absolutely know that for sure. For the second year in a row it arrived with a friend. I wonder if the thrush has been waiting for the toyon to grow up and become the beautiful berry-producing plant that it is now?
One thing is for sure, the toyon has created a valuable source of winter food for the hermit thrush, cedar waxwings and other berry-eating birds. The hermit thrush seemed to be thankful for its bountiful meal and I was heartened that I had made a positive difference for the local wildlife and migratory birds.
Now is the season in California to plant native plants, they are the Foundation of Habitat. Plant a few natives and help make a positive difference.
