Selaginella watsonii

Watson's spikemoss

Selaginellaceae

Not all plants found in the desert regions are seed bearing. One of my personal favorites, this species belongs to Lycopodiophyta, which is considered the oldest of the extant plant lineages, having descended from a division in the plant family that occurred around 410 million years ago. Found in the mountainous regions at the base of rocks and outcroppings, they are easily missed and generally ignored.

Despite its moss like appearance and name, S. watsonii is a true vascular plant, and has leaves, roots, and stems. Unlike seed plants, this species reproduces by spores. Like all members of its lineage, the leaves are an independently evolved structure from those of either the lignophyte (seed plant) or pteridophyte (fern) line. In essence, they're much like the wings of a bird vs. the wings of a bat. They are a similar structure that performs the same function, but arose separately and independently.

Because of the small size of these plants, and that they perform very little in the ecology they occupy, this species, as well as other members of its lineage, get only minor attention in the scientific community. While this is understandable, it also does them injustice, as they represents something that has persisted since before mammals, or even reptiles, entered the scene.

Langloisia setosissima ssp. puncata

Spiny desert calico

Polemoniaceae

One of the flowers that is easily missed by the casual observer, Langloisia setosissima ssp. puncata is one of the prettier belly flowers found in the mojave. Being so small, they're not major players in the ecology, but do represent the tenacious life of the mojave, as well as the diversity that is present right below our noses (or feet as the case may be for this plant).

L. setosissima ssp. puncata is found in gravely to rocky, well drained soils, most often out in the open away from other plants. The speckling on the blooms is only truly visible when you get up close, so getting down to look at the flowers is really rescissory to get a good feeling for the bloom's true appearance.

Centaurium venustum

Conchalagua or Charming Centari

Gentianaceae

Found in the canyons of the Eastern Sierra Nevadas, Centaurium venustum grows in seeps and by creeks. Easily missed because of its small size, the flowers of this gentian are vividly apparent when finally noticed. This species is widely distributed, and can be found throughout most of the mountainous areas of the state.

When identifying the species for the first time, I was rather confused, as I'd never encountered Gerntianaceae before. It took me some time to id it with the key, but it did resolve itself nicely when I did.

Mojave weather

The Mojave is typically a cool season desert, meaning that it doesn't get rain during the summer months. Instead, the wet season is in the winter, like in a coastal Mediterranean climate. This leads to a dryer environment during most of the year, so succulent plants like cacti are less prevalent, whereas scrubby plants like creosote and salt brush are dominant. When summer precipitation does break over the mountains, it usually falls as virga, and therefore doesn't make landfall. Summer thunderstorms are also rare, but can occur.

One of the most unusual and interesting weather events that can occur in the northern reaches of the desert is valley snow. Such occurrences don't happen often, usually only once every 15-20 years. When it does happen, it happens spectacularly, and then vanishes again as quickly as it came. The experience can be rather surreal, but the haunting beauty of seeing a creosote bush or choilla covered in a layer of fine powder is breathtaking.

Calochortus kennedyi

Desert mariposa lilly

Liliaceae

A splash of vibrant orange on the desert sand, Calochortus kennedyi makes is pressence known like an glowing ember. Where as most desert flowers I've encountered are some shade of white, yellow, blue or purple, this lilly is a vibrant, almost florescent orange. Though not rare, these plants are not "common," so finding one out in the field is a real treat.

The beauty of the desert

Though it sounds like an oxymoron, there is a real beauty to the desert that makes me, even now, misty in the eyes. More than just about any other place, it is something that is great, vast and innocent. There is a beautiful, delicate purity to the desert, one that I fear is lost on those who are too blind to see it. While living there, I looked around at the grandeur of it, the simple, stunning majesty of it, and was confronted by people, living in its midst, that felt nothing for it, saw it only as a resource to be exploited for their selfish pleasure, or destroyed in the name of their highly vaunted progress. It made my stomach heave with loathing when I saw its surfaces scared by the wicked claws of humanity's callousness. And feel great pity for those who, while living in its midst, had never truly seen it because they were trapped by the walls of "civilization."

I call the desert innocent because that is how I see it. It is open, clean and pure. You can see from horizon to horizon, and truly understand just how vast it is. There is little cluttering it. The life that lives there is delicate, while struggling to persist and grow, but is at the same time tenacious and strong, unwilling to let itself give up. Its face is rough and hard, but look a little closer, and it shows a beautiful, delicate side, one that is so shy, it takes some coaxing to come out, be it the transient blooming of flowers in the spring, or the furtive animals that hide in the shade of the rocks and bushes. It is tenacious, holding onto its life while barely having enough to survive by the standards of those near it.

The value of this place is not measurable in dollars, but in the delicate beauty of its life, its body and its soul. When I walk the desert and take in its vastness, I come to what might be called a state of reverence. Its such a wondrous thing. And I love it. It is without pretense, modesty or judgement. The desert simply is. And that is the most beautiful thing about it.

Mirabilis multiflora var. pubescens

Colorado four-o-clock

Nyctaginaceae

Found in the upper reaches of the canyons in the eastern Mojave, Miriabilis multiflora greatly contrasts with its much more common cousin, Mirabilis laevis var. villosa. The most stikeing contrast between the two is one of size. Where the common M. laevis is a smaller plant, M. multiflora is much larger, with its blossoms being on average 5 cm across, and the plant itself being around half a meter in diameter on average.

Like all members of Nyctaginaceae, the petals and sepalsof the bloom

are fused into a single perianth. This blossom is a deep magenta, and a very pleasant find while hiking in the reaches of the canyons and valleys.