
As a result, the region's native wildflowers evolved to withstand periods of drought.įor a native annual like our state flower, the California poppy, "their whole life cycle is based on flowering quickly and making seeds and getting those seeds into what we call the seed bank in the soil," he said. There's a lot to learn from it, too.Įven before industrialization and the climate change that resulted from human-caused greenhouse gas emissions, rainfall in Southern California varied considerably year to year, Yoder said. There's a lot to appreciate about the growth around us.

The growth has highlighted truths about our ecosystem that were easier to ignore in drier years: A changing climate has upended bloom schedules, non-native plants have altered the landscape, and many seemingly fallow fields are in fact just beds of dormant life waiting for the right time to bloom. All plants are thriving in these conditions, from native wildflowers to invasive weeds. Roses have thorns, and this superbloom has briars too. The combination of those two factors has produced "an absolutely glorious spring," one that has been more vibrantly colorful for longer than any in recent memory, said Jeremy Yoder, a Cal State Northridge biologist. Regional temperatures remained moderate as well, without any sudden early-spring heat waves to kill off fragile baby plants. Those 31 atmospheric rivers delivered steady, nourishing rainfall from October to March. The lush greenery in city parks, the mustard flowers electrifying the hillsides, the burst of unexpected blossoms from carefully tended gardens and sidewalk cracks alike-all of it is thanks to an ideal balance of precipitation and temperature that has catalyzed plant growth across the state. Nature will take care of itself."Įverything is growing everywhere all at once in Southern California. "But with all these rains you realize-the bulbs are there. "We used to have all sorts of lovely flowers here, and then they all died off," Harper said, looking down at the unexpected blossom. There was even a calla lily blooming from a patch of dirt everyone at the kitchen thought had gone barren. The Indian coral tree's fire-colored blossoms popped against green leaves. Magenta explosions of bougainvillea frothed over the kitchen's gates and the cinder-block walls of the vacant lot next door.

"This plant here-I've never seen so many flowers on it," marveled organizer Matt Harper, pointing to the berry-like blooms on a natal lily. But this spring has super-charged the courtyard's trees and lush greenery, which offer shade and sanctuary to the hundreds of neighborhood residents who come for the kitchen's thrice-weekly meals.
